#i made a crack once about how one of our cats who has a nickname of ‘little bits’

[followthemuse]

I'm at the nurse's station, inputting patient data into the computer system. The lights flicker, but I pay it no mind. It happens often enough that it doesn't bother me anymore. It's not scary anymore. That really is the only downside of being the only one who works the graveyard shift in a nursing home - the amount of odd noises and strange occurrences that happen throughout the night.

Just then, I hear a tiny meow. My breath catches in my throat and I look around. The light has completely stopped working now. Damn these phosphorescent bulbs. The only light in the area is the dim glow from the computer screen. I'm still searching for the source of the meow, but it's impossible to see anything. I shake my head and return to my work. I send out an email to my supervisor, letting her know about the light blowing, knowing it will be morning until she opens it.

After I finish logging the data, I decide it's time to do a quick check in on all of the residents. I stand up from my chair, phone in hand, using the flashlight on it until I get to a better lit area. As I'm turning off the flashlight, I see a black shadow scurrying into the darkness. "That's odd," I think, but I don't think too much of it. It's probably just my eyes playing tricks on me. I shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand.

I check on Mrs. Jeffers first. She's a sweet old lady in her 80s. Her family lives halfway across the country, so instead of moving here, or moving her there after her husband and caretaker passed, they made the hard choice to have her live with us. I crack her door open slightly, just enough to see inside the room. I hear her oxygen machine beeping, and I see her form lying in her bed, curled up with the blanket she sewed for her husband a long time ago. I shut the door as quietly as I can, wiping a stray tear from my eye. Sometimes working here can be a bit too much, seeing how much loss these people have endured in their lifetimes.

Meow. I spin around to look behind me, but again, there's nothing there. I search the dim hallway, looking behind and underneath carts and wheelchairs, but I come up empty. "Calm down. It's just the stress of the final day before I'm off. I'm sleep deprived," I say aloud, trying to rationalize what is happening. There's no way that it can be the same thing. I refuse to believe that this is the Harbinger.

Just then, I feel something brush up against my leg. Pulling in a shaky breath, I look down, but there's nothing to be found. But I can feel it. I can feel it weaving back and forth around my ankles, jumping up slightly every once in a while, like a cat who's asking to be pet. A tear rolls down my cheek. No, this can't be.

Meow! I press my back against the wall and slide down to the floor, eyes closed, tears fully flowing now. No no no no. I'm not ready. I shudder, trying not to hyperventilate. This cannot be happening. I'm only 29. I open my eyes, but the sensation is gone, and I no longer hear the meowing. I take a deep breath and stand back up, trying to collect myself.

I run my fingers through my hair and wipe the tears away. Before I check on anyone else, I decide to stop by the restroom. I turn the tap on as cold as I can get it and splash water on my face, trying to calm down. I grab a paper towel to dry my face, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I try to process what's happening.

About a month ago, staff and residents alike have reported seeing a fluffy grey cat roaming the facilities. It would only be quick sightings, and it was never consistent. After someone reported seeing the cat, however, one of our residents would be found in the morning, having passed in the night. The other nurses and I nicknamed this mysterious cat "The Harbinger", since it was spotted right before we lost someone. I, personally, have never seen the cat, which I found surprising.

I didn't totally believe it, I just thought that a resident was keeping a secret cat in their room. The place I work for doesn't allow animals in the building, due to heath hazards and some residents having allergies, but that hasn't stopped family members from bringing beloved pets to their relatives.

I pull my phone out again, and send a quick text to one of my coworkers, Elizabeth. I ask her if she's ever seen the Harbinger, or if she's ever heard the cat meowing. It's currently 3:33 in the morning, and I'm not sure if she'll reply. I send the message anyway, and then send her another text. "I think I saw it. I'm not sure. I saw a shadow in the east wing hallway as I was starting rounds, and have heard meows, but I just don't know. Please call me." Send.

I throw my paper towel into the trash, and go to finish my rounds. Everything is relatively normal after this, and I go sit in the day room, which is far away from any resident rooms. I'm still shaken up over what happened when I started rounds, but I just look forward to clocking out at 7 AM. By now, it's 4 AM, so there's only a few hours left of my shift. I turn the TV on and put it on the lowest volume possible and put it on something. I don't even know what I'm watching, as I'm too distracted.

On top of the TV sits the Harbinger. I noticed the tail first, fluffy and hanging low in front of the screen. I stifle a scream. I look into its eyes, which are a strange, electric blue, seemingly glowing in the dim room that's only lit by the screen of the television. The cat cocks its head to the side, and then to the other side. It chirps and jumps off. My breath quickens as the cat approaches the chair that I'm sitting in, and then it jumps up into my lap.

It settles into a comfortable position and lies down, starting to purr. I don't know what to do. Tears are streaming down my cheeks again. This cannot be real. It can't. I lift my hand slowly and begin to stroke the cat. I can feel its fur on my fingers. I can feel the vibrations of the purring. I sigh and say aloud, "What are you doing here, little one?"

The Harbinger looks at me, lazily stretching and yawning. I get the feeling that she's a girl, and that she's here to let me know everything will be okay. She stands up and turns around in a circle a few times before getting comfortable again, all the while, still purring. I don't know what to make of this.

I'm so focused on the cat that I don't hear him come in. I don't hear the glass of the security door break. I don't hear the squeak of his shoes on the linoleum. The tears have stopped at this point, and I'm mindlessly petting the Harbinger, allowing her purring to soothe me. I only notice that someone has broken in when it's too late. . . when his hands are around my neck. I immediately try to pry them off, but the grip is too tight.

I lean my head back to see the face of my ex-husband, the one whom I thought I had escaped. He found me. The Harbinger is still in my lap, purring and chirping at me, as if to say I'm right here. Everything fades to black.

You work in a nursing facility where a cat inexplicably visits patients the night they pass. Tonight they won’t leave you alone.

[unluckyxse7en]

...

[hansolmates]

g.p.s - god, parents suck | m

summary; seokjin just wants to enjoy the disney treatment and you are more than happy to deliver pairing; dilf!jin x hotelier!reader genre/warnings; crack, humor, gets a lil emotional, teenage daughter issues, one very minor allusion to a daddy kink LOL, a very vaguely implied sex scene, so CHEESY  w.c; est. 5.1k a/n; wee my first jin fic! this is for @btsghostiewritersnet​ #DynamiteDads event! I was supposed to go to disney this year but sadly miss rona had to cancel our plans so this is just pure self indulgence. as always thank u to @eerieedits​/ @chillingtae​ for the disney dream fic banner!

if you like it give it a bippity-boppity-boop on the like and share buttons! ✨✨✨

“Left, left!” Seokjin cries, holding onto the emergency break for dear life, “not my left, your left!” 

“We’re facing the same way! We have the same lefts!” 

“Clearly not if we’re going right, Sweetheart.” 

“But the GPS says to go right!” 

“In four-hundred feet, keep left at the fork,” Google Maps interrupts pleasantly.  

“That’s it. Kim Yeji, pull over!” 

“But Daaaaaaaaad,” yet his daughter complies, sadly pulling over at the edge of the road. She doesn’t even have to step on the gas, just turns the wheel slightly so she can land slowly, pathetically on the gravel. 

“Angel,” Seokjin says levelly, reaching over to unclick the seatbelt. “I will drive the rest of the way, I gave you time to practice for you have to drive to college but we can’t get on the highway like this.” 

“You never let me do anything.” 

“What, I do! Who let you go to prom in that sequined excuse for a dress?” 

“Uncle Namjoon!” 

“Fine, I’ll give him that! Who let you dye your hair to a crisp—” 

“Uncle Hoseok!” 

“Uncle–” Seokjin is affronted, jabbing the seatbelt in it’s locked position when he gets in the front seat. “Forget it, let’s just have a peaceful drive for the next few hours until we get to the hotel,” he removes Yeji’s phone from the holder, placing it in her lap. 

“Dad,” she waves her phone around, pointing to Google Maps, “you need the GPS to get there.” 

He scoffs, “No, I don’t. We’ve been to Disney plenty of times. I know where we’re going.” 

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time we went to Disney?” 

“When you were two? Three?” 

Yeji relaxes in her seat, not ready to argue with her dad once more. “Alright, lead the way,” she gestures vaguely to the empty parkway, devoid of life for miles. 

Seokjin is undeterred, reaching over the console to pat Yeji’s blonde hair. He turns on the radio, only to be met with the sound of crunchy static and terrible country music. Cutting the radio, he immediately switches to an old Disney CD, telling Yeji to let it go as he pulls into the open road. Reddish dust clouds around the car briefly, ripping against the tires as they drive off to their hotel. 

“Is this the Princess Hotel?” 

“Nope, this is the Prince S Hotel.” 

You can’t help but grin at the way your current customer’s face falls. He’s a handsome thing, all plush and pillowy in the cheeks and lips. Despite his daughter hanging off his arm like a limp noodle—after all it’s past 2AM and they’ve probably been driving for hours—he still manages to look somewhat put-together despite you telling him they’ve got the wrong place. 

“Told you, use the GPS,” her daughter chastises weakly, tucking her cheek in his shoulder. 

His kid’s a pretty girl, kind of reminds you of when you were a teenager. “The Princess Hotel is about an hour away on the other side of the Disney resorts,” you say slowly, noting from the way the girl is swaying on her feet that her father must be equally as tired, “although, I would suggest staying here for the night. Your daughter’s about to fall asleep on my counter.” 

At the pointed look you’re giving the teen, Seokjin puts a protective hand on her slim shoulders. “Yeji-bear, why don’t you lie down for a bit,” he leads her over to a spare couch. “We’ll call our booked hotel,” he says shortly, looking over his shoulder to give you a forced smile. 

Ah, you’ve seen this scene one or two times in your days working at Prince S. A father too prideful to admit he may have messed up just a little with the directions, and a child that probably argued or simmered so hard on the way they’re passed into a stupor on your lobby couch. Tonight, or your early morning is a little special though, you’ve never seen a father as handsome as the one in front of you, exasperatedly calling up their real hotel reservations. 

“What? My reservation has been revoked?” her daughter groans when he jostles around his lap, knocking her head, “how can you do that? Past the time? I thought this was Disney!” 

You drum your nails against the counter, using your other hand to pull up your guest list for the night on the computer. The father, now furrowed in the face, walks up to you and leaves his daughter on the plush couch. 

“One double bedroom for the weekend, please,” the father pulls his cards out, flicking it to your side of the counter. He places down his car keys in the available holder, “I parked out front, you do valet right?” 

With a nod, you get to work. “Take it they weren’t very accommodating?” 

“They gave our hotel room to some Make-A-Wish Foundation kid!” he cries exasperatedly, hands in the air as you patiently book the room. Your eyes linger longer than usual on his driver’s license and ID: Kim Seokjin. Even his driver’s license mugshot looks handsome. He rests his arms against your counter, despondent. “Is it terrible for me to hate on some kid with a terminal illness?” 

“A little,”  you shrug, slipping his keycard under his elbow, “but I mean according to your, Yeji-bear,” you can’t help but giggle at the nickname, “if you used the GPS you’d be at the correct hotel.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Seokjin glares, hauling his and Yeji’s luggage in one hand, “baby, let’s go upstairs c’mon.” 

You watch the small family trudge to the elevators,  sleepily walking forward like zombies. No one spares you a second glance, they never do, so it gives you ample courage to take a look at Kim Seokjin’s toned body. Broad shoulders, a Dorito-trimmed waistline, and long legs that you want to climb up on.

Oh, daddy. 

“Hey,” Yeji pops up on your counter, looking much perkier than she did hours before, “do you have my dad’s car keys?” 

Trying not to raise your brows at your young guest, you give her a smirk, leaning over the counter. A spunky thing, with sharp eyes with a pretty cat-tipped eyeliner shape that has her looking well put-together. You wish you had your shit together as a teenager, you barely have it together now. 

“I do,” you quip, “why?” 

“I wanna get Starbucks,” she says simply, “the pineapple matcha is to die for, and I want to drink as many summer specials as I can before it’s over.” 

“Valid,” you reply, going into your master key to retrieve all the guests’ keys. Taking Seokjin’s from its holder, you note the expensive make. Peering up from your desk, you look at Yeji’s innocent features. Before you place the key in her waiting palm, you snatch it away, “Why do I have the feeling you’re doing something that you’re not supposed to be doing?” 

Yeji tilts her head, “I don’t think it’s any of your business,” 

Sassy. You like it. “Get me a grande matcha frappe and your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Deal.” 

Watching Yeji drive off in the large Hyundai Palisade gives you a little twinge of worry, but you quickly tamp it down to motherly instinct. If you were Yeji’s mom—which you’re definitely not, you’d be worried. Naturally, you feel similarly. 

The hotel phone rings, the red light from 921 blinking on your switchboard. Flipping down the room number you pick up the receiver, “Prince S Hotel, how can I help you?” 

“You do booking, valet, and housekeeping?” Seokjin’s exasperated voice says in your ears, “who would I call if I want breakfast?” 

“That would also be me,” you reply wryly, twisting the curly wire between your fingers, “we advertise ourselves as a hotel for the quality, although we are much smaller with only thirty rooms. Sort of like a bed n’breakfast, getting the true royal treatment.” 

“Would the royal treatment consist of some extra towels and a continental breakfast?” 

“You got it.” 

A little cliché of you to do the whole “whistle while you work” segment—a lacy apron to make sure your uniform doesn’t get dirty, a spot of coffee to keep you peppy and setting everything up on a gold trimmed cart. You didn’t think you’d see Seokjin again, especially after how upset he was about his room. 

With a little rap on his door, Seokjin invites you inside to set up. Their room overlooks the valley as opposed to the busy roads, so it’s a perfect way to rise with the sun. He immediately reaches for the coffee as you drag your little cart in, completely ignoring the cream and sugar on the side. After a long sip, he moans in pleasure. 

“Ah,” he exhales, a sound that has you teeming. You grip the handlebars a little tighter than usual, “Maybe it was fate that we ended up here.” 

“Maybe,” you fight the urge to bite your lip, because Seokjin has no idea how cliché of a line that is. He isn’t even speaking directly at you, talking in front of the sun like it’s his morning routine. “Say, have you seen Yeji around?” 

“Ah,” you shug, pretending to be oblivious, “I think she went out for a walk.” 

He turns to you, giving you a quivering brow, “She hates walking. Probably calling her friends in Korea or something.” 

Of course she doesn’t like walking, you think, that’s why she took your car for some overpriced drinks. 

Instead, you place the fresh pancakes and sides on the guest table, making sure everything is organized and in order. You place the towels atop the haphazardly made bed, making sure to put two mints on top. It isn’t customary to include mints, but you think the mints your hotel has taste great and deserve to be shared around more often than not. 

“So, it looks like you’re ready for Disney,” you remark, taking note of his outfit. He has on blush mid-thigh shorts, stretchy and made from a canvas fabric that looks airy and comfortable. Around his neck is a little portable fan, and on his head is an old Mickey baseball cap. 

“Ah, just for today and tomorrow! Sunday is my ‘me’ day,” Seokjin says, dashing across the room at the sight of fresh food, “Yeji is meeting with some cousins and will be spending the rest of the weekend with them.” 

“Sounds like a fun weekend,” you remark, turning to leave. 

“Will you be working the rest of the weekend?” 

This is supposed to be small talk. You try to convince yourself that Seokjin is just being polite, wondering if his service is going to be impacted by you being around or not. There must be nothing sexual, or just mere attraction, going on between the two of you. Well, maybe on your side of things. The pink shorts and the baseball cap are doing things to your body that you barely understand. Unfortunately, the eager apples of his cheeks and the innocent upturn of his lips lets you know that any possibility of returned affections is virtually nonexistent. 

“It’s my weekend off,” you fight the twinge of excitement when you see Seokjin pout, “but Park Jimin relieves me, and he’s definitely a much better host than I am. He’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.” 

“Does he make better pancakes than you?” Seokjin asks, swirling a bite in a ribbon of maple syrup.  

“I’m afraid not,” you smile, “he makes a mean breakfast burrito though.” 

He shrugs listlessly, eating slower. He takes his time to make sure every pancake is cut in equal two-centimeter pieces, taking his time as if he’s savoring the last of your home-cooked meal. “Not sure if I’ll be completely satisfied then.” 

With a firm smile, you wheel your cart out as fast as you can. You can’t keep up the facade now, not with your trashy mind and your dampening panties ruining your sense of self. Quietly slamming the door behind you, you’re met with Seokjin’s spitting image. 

Yeji tilts her head at you, eating you alive with her dead-on stare. She places the keys and your matcha beverage on your cart. 

“Did my dad confuse you or something?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“He’s like that,” Yeji shrugs, taking a long sip of her drink, “don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

A good word? With an uneasy smile you wheel away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks.

“Can I have the keys?” Yeji asks the next morning, minutes before your shift ends.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You’re sure Yeji is a wonderful kid and has a good heart, but she’s seriously putting your five-star Yelp review on the line. Cocking one eyebrow you say, “What, need your Starbucks fix?” 

“Do you know how to parallel park?” 

“Why, need a teacher?” 

“It’d be better to have someone nearby to make sure I don’t park into a guard rail.” 

“Does Seokjin approve?” 

“You obviously know the answer to that,” Yeji replies, “and you and my dad are on a first-name basis, huh?” 

Fighting the heat in your cheeks, you busy yourself by locking up the money box and key tin, but not before grabbing the keys to the Palisades. “I’m doing this for you because I have impeccable customer service skills,” you feign haughtiness, leaving your front desk and scanning your ID to clock out. 

“Not because you think my dad is hot?” she follows you out the door. 

“Do you always talk about your dad like that?” 

Yeji is silent as she takes the keys from your grip, and you follow her in the passenger seat. A scent that’s fruity yet musky fills your nostrils, and you hug your arms for comfort. This is painfully awkward, at least in your point of view, but Yeji pays no mind as she connects to her Spotify playlist and turns on the air conditioner. 

“I’m not one of those prissy daughters that try their damn hardest to make sure their dad doesn’t date,” Yeji murmurs, adjusting the mirrors, “anyone my dad dates will be better than Hyehwa. He deserves to be happy for all that he’s done for me.” 

“Hyehwa?” 

“The biological carrier for nine months,” Yeji replies dryly. 

Your heart pinches, squeezing against your ribcage as you put two and two together. Hyewha, who you’re assuming is, or was Yeji’s mother, is definitely out of the picture. Yet seeing how confident Yeji is with herself, and how much he loves her father and wants him to be happy, is clear in your eyes. 

“You are one cool kid,” is the only thing you can say, hoping you don’t have that silly heartened look in your gaze. 

It seems that you do, because all she does is roll her eyes and put the car in drive. 

It’s nearly one in the morning when you get the call. 

You’re off the clock, but it’s graveyard hours and you and Jimin are craving pizza. So while Jimin tends to the last minute guests, you pick up a cheesy pie and hide behind the desk while Jimin does his job. 

You’ve polished off half the pie when the main phone rings, and Jimin sighs heavily. Late night and early morning calls are the absolute worst. 

“Get the hospital on speed dial,” Jimin jokes, but not really because the last time someone called at one, you really did wish you had an ambulance on-site. 

“Prince S hotel,” Jimin spins the cord between his fingers, looking like a dreamy teen heartthrob as he leans against the counter. He immediately swings the phone over to your greasy fingers, “it’s a personal call.” 

Wiping your hands on the box, you raise a brow. “Hello?” you ask, wholly confused. 

“Mm, it’s Yeji,” the voice slurs on the other line, “I need help.” 

“A-are you drunk?” you say, incredulous.

“Yeah, me and my cousin snuck a bottle downtown,” Yeji sounds nervous, and you unconsciously grip the phone tighter, “can you pick us up? I can drop you my location if you give me your number, please. My dad trusted me with the Palisade this weekend, I can’t let him know what happened. I know I’m always trying to get under my dad’s skin and whatever but I don’t want him to lose my trust, what we did is a dumb mistake.” 

A part of you feels for Yeji, you’ve done dumb shit like this when you were young. All those fond memories are nothing but memories, and definitely not reflective of your current life now. 

The rational, intelligent part of you knows that you should probably call Seokjin right now and tell him what’s going on. You don’t really want to get involved in their family matters, especially when as of late you’ve been inserting yourself in Yeji’s antics. 

With a sigh, you pull up your Lyft app, already knowing whose side you’re on. 

It takes no more than fifteen minutes for you to arrive at the scene, Yeji and what you assume is her older cousin sitting on the curb of a dilapidated Krispy Kreme, sadly polishing off a whole box of glazed donuts, Well, her cousin is polishing off the box, Yeji is taking nibbles at her proffered donut. 

You sigh, pulling Yeji up. You see tear-streaks, her previously perfect cat-eye smudged off and running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, sounding not as inhiberated as she did before, “I bothered you.” 

“Not at all,” you soothe, running a hand down her braids. You try not to melt when Yeji nearly leans into your warmth, but backs up at the last second, “I’m happy that you called. Would rather know that you’re safe now than later, yeah? I’m not mad at you,” you assure, pulling a crumpled brown napkin from the pizzeria to dab at her ruddied cheeks. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” you turn your head dangerously slowly towards the cute muscle pig who’s still sitting on the curb, “Ya deserve a five-star Yelp review for this service—” 

“But I’m mad at you,” you pointedly ignore his drunken charm. He looks old enough to drink, which only further annoys you because he should be the one taking care of Yeji, “get in the damn car, Youngkook.” 

“It’s Jungkook—”

“Get in.” 

He swallows his tongue, and you notice Yeji stifling a giggle at your attitude. She wordlessly hands you the keys, clamoring in the front seat while Jungkook takes the whole back row. Yeji tiredly informs you the address to her cousin’s hotel, and you drive off into the night. 

“Did I ruin my dad’s chances with you?” you think that Yeji has no clue what she’s saying, but there’s a little sliver of heart in her tone. Her face is pressed against the window, the cold glass on the verge of keeping her awake as she stumbles in and out of consciousness. 

“You could never do that,” you mumble, and you smile when her eyes willingly flutter shut. 

“Hey, babe,” you practically hear desperation in Jimin’s voice.

“Jimin, no,” you already know that his request is sitting prettily on the tip of his tongue, “it’s my weekend off. I’m not getting out.” 

“But someone requested your pancakes,” he whines, and you can practically feel his pout on the other line, “and he said and I quote ‘I’ll be able to tell that you made them.’ I feel threatened!” 

“Did they offer to pay in diamonds?” 

“N-no. But he said it’s his daughter’s special weekend and he’d be really thankful if you’d come by and make your breakfast for him.” 

Daughter? Yeji. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. You have your own room separate from the hotel, a deal that has you living rent free in exchange for your hard labor five days a week. “Heat up the stove for me and crisp the bacon,” you mutter, hanging up and throwing the phone under the covers. 

Tugging your hair back and throwing on a large hoodie, you put on your slippers and pad down the little sidewalk that leads to the hotel. The sun beats down on you immediately, willing you to go back to your air-conditioned room to fall back asleep. Swimming through the soup that is the Californian air, you shuffle inside Prince S and make a beeline for the kitchens. You brush through busy employees, flashing a quick smile and “good morning” as you get to your station.

Jimin is already there, sitting at your workspace. All your ingredients are sitting out: flour, eggs, butter, vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, buttermilk, and fresh berries. However, Jimin makes  no moves to attempt cooking, instead looking at you with pursed lips and waiting for you to get a move on. 

“Get your butt off my counter,” you slap his thigh disapprovingly, pulling your sleeves up to start mixing the ingredients, “you’re dirty.” 

“I embrace being dirty,” Jimin replies majestically, kicking his legs back and forth. His Doc Marten creepers wave in your vision, “thank you for swinging by. He said that it was really really important that you come in and make them. Daughter’s request.” 

“They’re lucky they’re a cute family,” you mutter under your breath, although the words aren’t laced with malice. 

The batter is fluffy and puffy, rising with the scent of melted butter and caramelized sugar. You take careful fingers towards the berries, creating a smiley face in the uncooked pancakes. 

“Is your maternal side kicking in?” Jimin says in your ear, and you swing at him with your spatula. 

“Leave me alone, art is being made.” 

“Sure,” Jimin hops off the table, patting your shoulder, “I got a date with room 69,” you roll your eyes, there is no such thing as room 69. “So please continue to be awesome and finish off this favor by delivering it to Mr. Kim’s room.” 

“Jimin, no!” you don’t care that half the staff is staring at you amusedly, the other half uncaring because they’re so used to the two co-managers. “I’m not wearing—I’m not wearing pants.” 

You gesture to the obscene amount of bare legs out in the open. California’s hot as hell, you try to wear as little layers as possible. However, in the workplace you like to keep a modicum of decency. Even though Kim Seokjin is fine fine fine, you have decorum. 

But Jimin’s already off to visit the guest in room 69 and you’re stuck with a pile of fresh hotcakes and none of the workers want to get involved in your shenanigans. Typical. Begrudgingly, you force your Hallmark-esque smile and arrange the gold trimmed cart, taking care to put extra berries in the fruit dish. 

It’s a simple transaction. Get in, drop off the food, accept the tip if Seokjin feels generous, and get out. The door to room 921 looks larger than life, intimidating like the gates to heaven. You knock firmly, but gingerly. “Room service?” the voice that escapes your lips is your sugary professional voice, one that makes you wince immediately. 

A muffled “coming!” has you bristling at the door. You curse yourself, looking at your bunny-clad feet and your legs disappearing under your hoodie. 

As soon as Seokjin pops his head open you blurt, “I swear, I’m wearing shorts underneath this.” 

“Uh,” and that forces him to look at your legs. Dammit, it was a good intention but the wrong way to go. “Good to know,” he coughs, opening his door wider. 

The room is much messier on Seokjin’s side of the room, now filled with Eeyore and Baymax memorabilia. A large, white Baymax plush sits innocently at one side of his untouched bed. You crack a smile at that. 

“Where’s Yeji?” you ask lightly, putting both stacks of pancakes down on the available table. You absently wipe the crumbs off, leading the little pile of food-crust to the garbage can. 

“Yeji?” Seokjin asks, “why would Yeji be here?”

The way you put the cutlery down instantly slows, “You called Jimin this morning saying you needed pancakes specifically made by me to give to Yeji.” 

“Who?” 

“Jimin?” you raise a brow, losing your high-pitched commercial tone. “Tiny, annoying blond guy?” 

Seokjin stares.

You stare back.

“Yeji’s at her cousin’s townhouse,” Seokjin states plainly. 

“No, you called and said Yeji wanted pancakes—” No. 

Yeji, or Jimin, or both called you and set it up. 

“Oh, Jimin’s an idiot,” you tap your head lightly, wanting to bop out any potential embarrassing memory that has burned in your brain, “must’ve misheard. Or is hearing ghosts! Honestly he isn’t the right mind I’m so sorry I reallygottaneedto—” 

You can’t even breathe let alone exhale the rest of your sentence, so you instead do the only thing you can do—run away. You don’t bother to exude grace as you plop any trash on the cart from yesterday’s room service, whipping the cart around so fast that the side wheels fly off and pop a wheelie. 

“We don’t have to let the food go to waste,” Seokjin says pointedly, probably watching you like he’s watching a comic show as you try to bolt out of the room. 

The door is closed, and the little hallway is too small for you to put your body and the cart between the walls. You’ve trapped yourself. Maybe you could just leave the cart and dip? You’re sure there’s at least two extras downstairs. 

“It won’t,” you reply dumbly, “I can eat it in the breakroom or something, I haven’t made breakfast for myself yet. I mean, I was kinda craving an avo-toast this morning, but pancakes are always a classic.” 

Seokjin snorts at your incessant rambling, carding a hand through his chocolate locks, “I’m trying to ask you to stay for breakfast.” 

“You’re trying to��oh,” you mirror his expression, running a hand over your hair so it pulls out of its already messy style. You haven’t done much physical activity this morning, but you feel absolutely breathless as you’re glued to the cheap carpet, taking in Seokjin’s wide glassy eyes

“And if you stay for dessert, I’d like to thank you properly,” 

“I didn’t bake dessert,” you hide the shudder in your throat when he steps closer, pinning you against the cart. Your knuckles must be transparent by now due to how hard you’re gripping the cart. 

“You didn’t,” Seokjin agrees, “but you definitely brought it.” 

You yelp, actually, a whole little dolphin-squeal escapes your lips as Seokjin puts his hand against the wall. You’re actually living a Disney-esque scenario that you do not want to be in. Seokjin’s either trying to give you the Eugene-Signature-Smoulder, or the Prince Naveen charm that isn’t very charming. 

“You’re a cheeseball,” you try to snap back, but it only comes out as a small reply, fitting of your cramped situation. 

His buttery brown eyes are clear and warm, and his sweet scent envelopes your form. You feel impossibly small, sinking deeper and deeper into your hoodie until you feel the heat of his voice sinking deep into your skin. 

It’s then that he leans in and whispers in your ear, his voice a simple request, “Please tell me that you’re interested in me too.” 

Something clutches softly in your heart, tethering you to Seokjin’s gaze. You wonder how many times Seokjin goes through this scenario. You wonder if he’s happy being a bachelor. You figure that many partners must have doubts being tethered by a teenage daughter, or if Seokjin is used to fleeting hook-ups.

“Have been since check-in,” you reply smoothly, finding your breath and looking up from your eyelashes.

Seokjin’s lips find yours, and you swear you’re lip-locking with Cloud Nine. They’re soft and supple and taste a little like maple syrup as they mingle with yours, and you can’t help but weave your hands through his equally silky strands, tugging him closer as he hooks his arms under your bare thighs. 

He gives your bottom an experimental squeeze, leading you to the unmade bed.

Needless to say, breakfast has to wait. 

“So, I’m going to throw a cliché.” 

“Sure, we’re in Disney.” 

“Why me?” you slap his bare chest when Seokjin laughs, pouting, “I mean it! All I did was look cute and give you pancakes!” 

“So you admit you’re cute,” Seokjin smirks. 

“C’mon don’t change the subject, tell me!” 

Even though this hotel is partially yours, you’re still amazed at the softness of the Egyptian cotton as it engulfs both your bodies. Maybe it’s because you’re warm and bathing in the noon afterglow, maybe it’s your bed partner. Still, it feels divine as you lounge in bed, sipping champagne (left by the door, courtesy of Jimin.)

“Mm, caught you driving around with Yeji in my car.” 

You sit up straighter, clutching the sheets to your chest, “You saw us last night?” 

“You were also out last night?” Seokjin tilts his head, “I meant when you taught her how to parallel park.” 

“Oh fuck—I mean,” you slap your forehead, knowing you can’t get away with this one, “Let’s just say I helped her out of a sticky situation. Don’t blame Yeji, blame Yeji’s bunny-headed cousin.” 

“Noted,” Seokjin throws an arm around you, snuggling closer. You relax into his hold, melting between the sheets and his soft skin, “Knowing you’re pulling through for her. Let’s just say I’m a little soft for my daughter, no matter how old.” 

“She’s wonderful,” you say genuinely, taking slow sips of your bubbly drink. 

“Wanna go visit her for lunch? I’m supposed to be meeting her in an hour.” 

You don’t feel deterred or nervous to see Yeji, or even the possibility of meeting Seokjin’s extended family. So you agree, run back to your room quickly to throw on a reasonable summer outfit that doesn’t consist of hooded sweatshirts and booty shorts. 

Seokjin offers to drive your sedan, and since you feel a little princess-ish today you decide to let him take the wheel. After a few minutes attempting to drive in the direction of the townhouse however, you lower the volume on the radio. 

“Jin? I think you’re going the wrong way,” not only do you live here, but you went to the townhouse last night and you’re sure it’s in the opposite fork, “do you want me to plug it in the G.P.S?” 

“I know my way, hon,” Seokjin waves you off, confidently streaming through the oncoming traffic. You smile nervously, you have a feeling this situation has happened once or twice. 

“Oh, is that why you ended up in my hotel?” you tease, “because you’re so good at directions?” 

“Duh,” Seokjin reaches for your hand atop the console, “after all, my intuition led me to you.” 

[psychedelic-ink]

This is my commission for @some-piece ! Thank you so much for commissioning me once again and oh my god I hope you like this because I certainly enjoyed writing it! 

Pairing: Law x chubby!fem!reader x Zoro

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Drama

Word count: 5 k

Warning: Fingering, anal, dirty talking, threesome 

Summary: You, Law and Zoro go to visit Franky and Robin on Christmas everyone is there including Sanji. Zoro’s and Sanji’s constant bickering annoys Law and you so the two of you hatch a plan to end it all.

Commissions | Ko-Fi

There was a reason why you never invited anyone to your place and it was a good one. It wasn’t one reason though, it was two. 

And the two reasons were standing right infront of you. 

“Stop eating the appetizers you damn moss head!”

“For the love of god could you go bother someone else! Shitty curly ass eyebrow!” 

“What did you just say!?”

Taking in a deep breath you apologetically looked at both Robin and Franky, you felt like you had brought a toddler who just wouldn’t settle down. But the older couple seemed to be happy with this since they both laughed along with Zoro and Sanji’s immature fighting. But sadly you and Law couldn’t be as cheerful, the two of you had grown tired of the constant bickering of the two at every goddamn gathering. It was embarrassing, especially since the both of them had no filter at all. 

The evening continued, it was nice seeing everyone else, honestly the gathering of all your friends was the only reason you appreciated Christmas. Luffy was constantly shoving appetizers in his mouth, Usopp was talking about his new book with Franky, Robin and Nami were happily gossiping, you and Law were mingling, everything could be considered great but of course Zoro and Sanji’s constant fighting put you in a sour mood. Law placed his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, his warmth calmed you but you couldn’t stop from sighing constantly. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking at your raven haired partner. “I’m really enjoying myself but I just can’t seem to zone them out, they’re like mosquitos constantly buzzing in my ear.” 

Law glared at the two, he had no idea why but Sanji had his foot against Zoro’s face. 

“I get what you mean.” he muttered. “Hey dumbass!” he shouted. Zoro flinched and turned his gaze from Sanji’s foot to him. “You promised not to do this. Again.” he hissed between clenched teeth. 

You couldn’t see Law’s expression but you were positive that he was gesturing towards you with his eyes, which you had no issues with since you just wanted the mosquitos to stop quarrelling. Zoro’s eyes went between you and Law, finally he pushed Sanji’s foot away from his face and clicked his tongue in annoyance as he walked towards the two of you. 

“Yeah listen to you boyfriend.” Sanji cooed as Zoro left. 

At that moment both you and Law knew that there was no way Zoro was going to spend the evening with the two of you. Beet read, Zoro turned back on his heel and they resumed their shout race they had with each other. You buried your face into Law’s chest as the two of you groaned. 

“Yeah there’s no way they’re going to stop anytime soon,” Law said, annoyance latched into his voice. “Maybe we could distract them or something?” 

“Zoro has a one track mind, I doubt we can distract the beast after he’s been awakened…” After a moment of silence a smile spread across your lips. “But I do have an idea that might work. We might not be able to distract Zoro but we can distract Sanji.” 

“With what exactly? I already share you with one man, I ain’t sharing you with another.” 

You laughed at the pure seriousness of his tone. 

“No not like that but we could act like the most nauseating lovesick couple ever and annoy the hell out of him.” 

“Are you sure that would work?” Law questioned raising an eyebrow. 

“We’ll never know until we try my sugar bear.” 

Law looked at you and as soon as you made eye contact with him you both started to laugh. 

“There’s no way we’re going to get through this without laughing,” Law said wiping a tear. “If you ever with all seriousness call me sugar bear I will dump you.” 

“Please do so, that just felt wrong.” 

But even if both of your stomachs churned each time you made kissy faces and called cute little nicknames at each other, you continued your attempt to distract Sanji. Surprisingly, you both managed to do it without breaking into a laughing fit and you could tell that Sanji was starting to get annoyed. The fact that Zoro was in a couple and he wasn’t (maybe he could find someone if he just stopped drooling over every goddamn woman he saw) just made him angry in a petty way. 

Honestly you’ve never seen Sanji like this before, he usually just called Zoro names or made fun of his hygiene but this Sanji, a Sanji enraged in seeing a lovey dovey couple at every corner… it frightened you. Of course he couldn’t say anything to you so that meant he focused all that rage towards Zoro which was the exact opposite of what both you and Law wanted. They started to get more violent, more verbal and to be completely honest their behavior threatened to ruin your whole mood. 

You were hoping that dinner would be the solution to everything, everyone was gathered around the table, the smell of Sanji’s cooking enticing everyone's noses and stomachs. Momentarily you saw Sanji, he was oddly calm and much like the Cheshire cat  his lips were spread out in a grin. Your stomach dropped at his expression, the cook had his gaze fixated on Zoro who was sitting right next to you, calmly scooping mashed potatoes into his plate. Law was on your other side and gently you nudged him with your knee, he followed your gaze and locked his eyes on Sanji as well. Ever so faintly you could hear the tattooed doctor groan. 

“Zoro, how does it feel to not be able to make your girlfriend happy?” he asked, humming. “How does it feel to need another man’s help to satisfy her?” 

Your mouth fell open at his words, never could you imagine Sanji hitting Zoro below the belt like that. Quickly your eyes switched towards Zoro, if looks could kill Sanji would be dead by now, he dropped the spoon and stood up, the chair falling to the ground as he did so. Law had his hand on your leg, his thumb going in circles as he tried to soothe your nerves. Everyone was dead silent and was holding their breaths. What would Zoro do? He would fight back obviously? Sanji was still smiling at him as Zoro’s glare intensified. 

Then Zoro did the unimaginable. He walked away. 

That seemed to take Sanji by surprise because momentarily you could see his smug look wavering and for a short moment you could see regret. But that didn’t stop you from lashing out. 

“Good job Sanji.” you spat. “Are you happy now?” 

“I...I…” 

Before the cook could finish his sentence you stomped away and went to find Zoro, Law followed you after excusing himself from the table. You could hear Nami scolding Sanji but you didn’t care about that right now. The only thing you cared about was Zoro, he already wasn’t the most comfortable about the relationship and Sanji had hit him right where it hurt. You searched the house for the green haired man, he was in none of the guest bedrooms, finally the two of you heard a groan and followed the angry mumbling. You saw light coming from a door that was cracked open and well behold Zoro was in the third guest bedroom. 

 “How did you end up here?” Law asked, genuinely curious. 

Zoro flinched at the voice and turned to stare at the both of you, quickly you closed the door as you entered the spacious toilet. 

“I...don’t know.” Zoro grunted, turning his gaze back to the mirror. 

You noticed droplets of water dripping down his face, it was clear that he was trying to calm himself down and honestly you were impressed by his tenacity. You placed your hand gently on his back, just as you were leaning in to check on his face he pushed you back. You gasped, surprised that he pushed you away. It wasn’t a strong shove but it still took you by surprise, Law took a step forward with his eyebrow furrowed as he glared at Zoro. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “Don’t take your anger out on y/n.” 

“He’s right.” 

“What?” you asked, your heart braking at the tone of Zoro’s voice. 

Zoro averted his eyes and as a plea for help you glanced at Law. He sighed and placed his hand on Zoro’s broad shoulder. 

“Look at me.” Law said firmly, Zoro, hesitant, lifted his gaze back up to face him. “You love y/n don’t you?”

Zoro nodded. 

“You love me too right?” 

Zoro sighed but nodded again. 

“See this isn’t about not being able to satisfy y/n, the three of us love each other. Sanji was just trying to piss you off and you know that.” 

“Yeah.” you chimed in also taking a step forward. “It’s also kind of our fault since we edged him on with the lovey dovey crap.” 

“Really? I haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah well, you were busy trying to choke Sanji.” Law said, an amused smile on his lips. 

You also broke out into a smile when you saw Zoro finally giving in and chuckling. It looked like Law managed to get through his thick skull of his, taking a step forward you planted a soft kiss on Zoro’s cheek, he seemed surprised by that and gave you a confused look. 

“That’s for not losing your shit in front of everyone.” 

A faint shade of red colored his cheeks, Law patted Zoro on the shoulder and laughed. 

“Yeah good job! You somewhat kept your promise to y/n and me.” 

“We’re still annoyed at you though.” you said, pouting. 

Law nodded at your statement. Zoro sighed and rolled his eyes, it was nice to see him starting to relax. You knew well that he always felt calmer with the two of you, and even though that could be said for the three of you it was especially true for Zoro since he wasn’t the most emotionally open person in the relationship. 

Every beautiful rose has its thorns but when it came to Zoro it was worth it. 

“How about we go back,” Law said, gently pushing Zoro towards the door. “I bet everyone is worried.” 

You followed them both with a smile, Zoro had groaned a bit to Law’s statement but didn’t resist. When Law opened the door the three of you were surprised to see Sanji there, the blond flinched and quickly hit something behind his back, taking a step back he nervously started to tap his feet. 

“I-I wanted to apologize,” he stuttered. “To all three of you, what I said was in bad taste.” 

You locked eyes with Law and you could see in his gold orbs that he was as equally shocked as you were. Quickly your gaze fell back to Sanji who had his eyes locked to Zoro. 

“Yeah it was.” Zoro grumbled as he crossed his arms in front of him. 

“I especially wanted to apologize to you Zoro, I...I was just being an asshole.” he took in a deep breath. “I didn’t mean what I said, so here.” 

Quickly Sanji pulled out what he had stashed behind his back and shoved it into Zoro’s chest, both you and Law peered over his shoulders to see what it was, much to your surprise it was a present. Zoro raised his eyebrow and gave Sanji a confused look as he held the gift. 

“I got everyone a little something for Christmas, this is your present. I really didn’t want to make you upset, especially on Christmas.” Sanji said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

Zoro sighed and started to tore away the wrapping paper. Your curiosity grew. 

“Just because you bought me something doesn’t me— WHAT THE FUCK?” 

Zoro’s hands were shaking as he held a black shiny box, Karuizawa Vintage Single Cask Malt Whisky was written on top of it in gold. Behind it there were big red kanji symbols that you had no idea what it meant but apparently it was a big deal because Zoro’s hands were shaking and his mouth was agape. 

“Ohh fancy.” you here Law humming. 

“How did you get this you dumbass?” Zoro blurted out his eyes back on Sanji, the cook seemed amused by Zoro’s reaction. “Did you sell an organ or something?” 

“I have my connections,” Sanji replied with a smirk. “I’m guessing you like your present?” 

“You’re such a piece of shit you know that right?” 

From Sanji’s expression you could see that he wasn’t expecting that, his eyebrow twitched but he quickly took a deep breath and walked away muttering something about ungrateful moss heads. Zoro smirked and called out to him as he left. 

“Thank you!” 

Without glancing at their direction Sanji waved and disappeared from view. Your eyes went between the supposedly expensive bottle and Zoro, you could swear you could see sparkles in his eyes. 

“Should we leave you two alone?” you asked, teasing. 

“Oh shut up,” Zoro replied, hugging the bottle. “Alright let’s go back.” 

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

You let yourself fall on to the bed, it dipped under your weight and you sighed happily at the coziness of it. Franky and Robin sure as hell knew how to spoil guests. The rest of the night had gone, much to your pleasure, swimmingly. Sure Sanji and Zoro bickered now and then but it was more on the soft side, you could tell Sanji was holding back his vulgar mouth and Zoro’s teasing had become more playful after receiving the very expensive bottle of japanese whisky. 

Law quickly made his way to the shower, despite looking like a homeless college student he did shower quite often and Zoro had laid down on his stomach right next to you. He placed a kiss on your cheek, and grazed his lips against your skin making you giggle at the sensation. 

“Hey y/n,” Zoro whispered, his lips inching closer to your ear. “Let’s have sex.” 

“What?” you snorted. “Why now?” 

Zoro propped himself on his elbow and came closer to you, you could easily sniff the alcohol coming from his breath, a devilish smile spread across his lips. 

“The cook is next door, let’s make some noise.” 

“For the love of god Zoro,” you groaned. “This is you master plan to annoy him? It’s a pretty shit one. Besides you know I don’t moan.” 

“Come on, for me?”

“No,” you said again, furrowing your eyebrows. “Besides I don’t want to be included in this childish game.” 

Zoro flashed you a grin as he climbed on top of you and you rolled your eyes as you guessed what was going to come next. 

“Fine I’ll just have to make you moan then.”

“Yeah good luck with that.” 

He ignored your annoyed tone and snuck his hands under your shirt, his lips latched to your neck, Zoro’s fingers traced your body as you continued to lay down on your back. You let out a shaky breath when his hands brushed over your nipples. Zoro started to squeeze and knead you breasts, it felt good of course and small whines left you but that was pretty much as far as noise making went for you. 

Zoro left open mouthed kisses as he rolled up your shirt, exposing your breasts, he took a hold of each nipple and started to roll the sensitive nubs between his fingers. Your back arched with his touch, and he nibbled on your flushed neck. 

“Come on I want to hear you.” he muttered against your skin. 

But your lips were sealed shut, Zoro clicked his tongue in annoyance. Swiftly he lifted you up and pulled down your sweatpants followed with your underwear, you gasped when he shoved in two fingers. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Look how easy I can slide my fingers in to you y/n.” 

Your back arched as he fiercely started to thrust his digits in and out of you, your heart was beating madly in your chest as you let out shaky breaths. Zoro disappeared between your trembling legs and left a trail of open mouthed kisses up your thigh, occasionally he would nibble on your soft flesh as he traveled towards your heat. 

You weren’t going to lie, the man was really going all out for you to make some noise. 

“Zoro…” you whispered as you felt his breath ghosting over your clit, his fingers still thrusting in and out of you. 

“That’s a good start,” he chuckled. “But how about we get a bit louder?” 

Before you could snap back with a snarky remark, he wrapped his lips around your clit and started to suck on the already overly sensitive nub. Zoro hummed as he tasted you, your juices overflowing around his fingers. The lewd noises echoing inside of the room turned you on even more, your whole body shivered and you bit your bottom lip. You placed a hand behind his head and started to roll your hips accordingly to the rhythm of his sinful fingers. 

You weren’t sure but it felt as Zoro was smiling at you for slowly coming undone, he continued to suck, nibble and push in your clit with his tongue. He scissored his fingers inside of your, spreading your insides, searching for that sweet spot that he was sure that would make you scream. 

Too bad that you were one stubborn woman. 

Your toes curled, you flinched, trembled, occasionally whined and whispered his name but that was pretty much it. Zoro gradually became more annoyed at your silence, suddenly he pulled out his fingers strings of your juices following his digits, you gasped at the sudden emptiness. You glanced up at him and noticed that he was glaring at you, you raised an eyebrow to that. 

“This shouldn’t be a surprise to you.” you said, challenging his glare. 

“We’ll see about that.” he growled and shoved down his sweatpants, his cock slapped against his abdomen and needless to say you were impressed by his stubbornness. 

Zoro grabbed your hips and squeezed your love handles, aligning his cock with your hole he buried himself inside of you with one swift motion. Your eyes teared up a bit by the sudden feeling of being stretched out, your back arched and you gasped for air. Without giving you a chance to adjust he continuously slammed his hips in and out of you, your breasts bouncing and hitting you in the chest with each thrust. 

“Just make some noise woman.” Zoro grunted as he leaned in and buried his face into your neck, biting and sucking on your skin. 

You closed your eyes and started to lose yourself in the bliss, you couldn’t care less about Zoro’s ambition to make you scream and shout, you were just going to enjoy the ride. Just as you were losing yourself you opened your eyes back up as you heard a faint creak of a door opening. 

Law came out of the bathroom and steam followed him, with a white towel loosely wrapped around his waist, he was dabbing the excess water out of his hair with another towel. Momentarily he glanced at the top of you, unfazed he continued to dry his hair. An idea popped into your head and before Zoro realized that Law was out you furiously started to wiggle your eyebrows at him, he noticed and gave you a puzzled look. You turn your head to the night stand and look at the lube with such intensity that it looked like you were trying to summon the bottle to move towards you. Law understood the message, of course he did, he understood everything and with a grin he quickly grabbed the lube and dropped the towel flashing you a glimpse of his semi erect cock. 

You watched as he stood behind Zoro, pouring a generous amount of lube over his fingers, he spread Zoro’s cheeks and pushed in the tip of his two fingers. Zoro immediately jolted up and his thrusting slowed down, he turned enough to see that Law was behind him. 

“What the hell?” he hissed. 

“I want to join in on the fun too.” Law hummed.

Grabbing Zoro’s chin with his free hand, he pushed his finger deeper as he grazed his lips over Zoro’s. A smile spread across your face when you saw how red Zoro was getting as he parted his lips, wanting a kiss from Law. But instead of a kiss, Law smirked instead and curled his fingers, stealing a rather loud moan from Zoro. 

“Tell me what you want Zoro.” he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. 

Zoro swallowed as his eyes widened, you could swear you could hear his heart racing in his chest, you licked your lips at the sight and felt yourself becoming slicker at the scene playing in front of you. Unwillingly your insides clamped around Zoro’s cock and he let out a soft whimper. 

“Kiss me.” he breathed out, his voice trembling. 

Law placed his lips over Zoro’s, you watched intently as Zoro parted his lips allowing Law to slide his tongue inside. He moaned into the kiss and he slowly started to roll his hips, making you throw your head back as his shaft grazed against your puffy clit. Law continued to suck on Zoro’s tongue as he scissored his fingers inside of him, preparing Zoro for what was about to come. You could feel Zoro quivering inside of you, your mouth watered knowing how good he was feeling. 

Law broke the kiss and with a string of saliva connecting them he grinned at Zoro’s flustered state. He pulled out his fingers and Zoro whined at the loss of them, Law gently placed a kiss on the side of Zoro’s chin and aligned himself with his hole. With both hands squeezing Zoro’s hips, he started to push in. Zoro gasped at the feeling of being stretched open and his cock twitched inside of you. Law clenched his teeth. 

“You’re still so damn tight Zoro,” he breathed out. “I need to fuck you more often.” 

As a reply, Zoro let out a groan, you chuckled at that and saw Law move up his hands towards Zoro’s chest, he grabbed both of his breasts and squeezed them. Your eyes widened as Zoro’s back arched and let out a throaty moan. Law started to play with Zoro’s nipples, rolling the erect nubs between his slender fingers and pulling them occasionally. Zoro’s head fell back and Law continued to push in until he was fully sheathed. 

Law let out a shaky breath and decorated Zoro’s skin with open mouthed kisses, his hands fell back to Zoro’s hips and he pushed the green haired man forward so he would drop on all fours. Zoro’s face was an inch away from yours and his hands were on each side of your head. He was breathing heavily, the scent of alcohol and yourself still lingering in his breath. Pushing yourself up you captured Zoro’s lips with a kiss, you felt Law starting to thrust in and out of him, effectively making Zoro thrust in and out of you as well. Zoro moaned into your mouth as you sucked on his bottom lip, wanting to hear more of him you let go of his intoxicating lips. 

Zoro’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as Law’s thrusts became more intense, sweet moans left him nonstop, you could relate to him, getting fucked by Law was no easy task. The noise of skin slapping against skin was like a sweet serenade to your tainted ears, each time Law thrusted, Zoro thrusted deeper into you. You clawed Zoro’s back, you couldn’t stop watching him, Zoro was looking down at you between half lidded eyes, his cheeks a beet red and his tongue dangling with each thrust, his moans were gradually becoming louder. 

“Ahh...ahh...Law…” he mewled, pushing back into the doctor. “This is too much.” his voice trembled and you could swear you could see his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I’m just starting Zoro.” Law purred and as a demonstration he pulled his hips all the way back  and snapped them back, pushing his throbbing cock in all at once. 

Law rammed his cock into Zoro’s deepest parts and it was just too much for him to handle. You could tell that he hated how good Law was making him feel, hated how he couldn’t stay quiet and hated how he was already coming undone by Law slamming into him, lewd noises of his balls slapping against his flushed skin was enough to make him want to disappear. 

Lost in the pleasure, Zoro didn’t notice Law grabbing his green hair. He pulled at Zoro’s hair, and as a response his hiss could be heard. 

With each thrust Law was able to rip a throaty moan from Zoro, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Without a hint of shame in his voice Zoro screamed out, he moaned, he groaned and he begged Law to let him cum. 

His voice echoed throughout the whole goddamn house and by the end of the night everyone would know who was making him feel good. A wicked smirk spread across Law’s lips. 

“Law!” Zoro shouted, his voice echoing. 

“Yeah that’s right, scream my name.” Law teased, grinning at you and winking. 

Zoro didn’t reply and instead continued to moan out Law’s name, he sometimes even moaned yours as well, his arms trembled as he struggled to keep himself up so he wouldn’t end up squashing you. You felt yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm, Zoro’s cock throbbed inside of you, his length now drenched in your juices, you slightly lifted your hips so he could hit that special spot inside of you, normally you would ask but you weren’t sure he could even hear you over his own moans at this point. 

Also wanting revenge for earlier, you lifted yourself up as much as you could, you licked a stripe down Zoro’s neck and ended on his breasts, with one hand you rolled his erect nipples between your fingers and with your mouth you sucked on the other one. 

“Y/n what are you— Ahh!” 

You bit into the sensitive nub and violently sucked on it, Zoro shivered and pressed his chest further into your face. He always did like to have his nipples teased. Your tongue went in circles, the way he whimpered and moaned on top of you made you want to tease him further. You took another bite and sucked, hoping to leave a mark. Falling back you witnessed your masterpiece, even now you could see a dark circle forming around Zoro’s nipple. Just as you were going to suck on the other one, you were pushed back as Zoro basically fell on top of you. Momentarily your gaze landed on Law, he was looking down at both of you, his eyes dark with lust.  

Law’s grip on Zoro’s hips tightened, his movement grew sloppier as he chased his own orgasm. Law flashed you one last grin before plunging himself deep into Zoro groaning, as he came and of course him plunging into Zoro meant that Zoro was burying himself into your deepest parts as well, you saw white as you came, you juices dripping on to the sheets. Zoro was twitching inside of you, his mouth wide open and his eyes crossed as he screamed out Law’s name over and over again. 

Law pulled Zoro out of you, his cock was still hard as a rock. Law motioned you to get on your knees, which you did, Law wrapped his fingers around Zoro’s cock and stroked him until he was cumming all over your face, thick ropes of cum shooting out of him. Your eyelashes felt heavy with his cum, you darted his tongue out and gave it a little taste, it was bittersweet. You looked up to gaze at Zoro, he seemed completely out of it, he was still panting looking down at you with awe, you grinned and stuck your tongue out showing him that his seed was still lingering in your mouth. He shivered. 

“Let’s get you into a shower.” Law said as pulled out, softly slapping him in the ass. 

Without saying anything Zoro let Law and you guide him to the bathroom, his cheeks were still beet red. 

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Breakfast was certainly more entertaining, at least it was entertaining for you and Law, Zoro much like an embarrassed child kept his gaze on his plate, Sanji on the other hand...he couldn’t even look at either of you. Whenever he did, he would look away and blush. It was amusing to see them both so silent, it pleased you. 

And of course it pleased Law as well. 

Law wrapped his arm around Zoro’s shoulder and placed the weight of his body on to him, forcing him to press down further into the chair. Zoro let out a yelp, you hadn’t noticed right away but it seemed like Zoro couldn’t quite sit down right, both you and Law chuckled as all eyes turned to the three of you. Your poor green haired partner blushed and tried to cover up his yelp with a cough, this seemed to work on all of them except for Sanji who was now blushing furiously as he excited the kitchen. 

Zoro’s master plan had worked after all.  

[val-aquenta]

I’m on fire posting these fics. They have mostly been languishing in my drafts, so I really just have to spruce them up a tad to post them ahahah. 

Here on ao3

 Qui-Gon is the first to call him Ben. Obi-Wan is a name that is too long for him to yell, so he is nicknamed Ben. At least, that’s what he said. Obi-Wan thinks otherwise, obviously. 

“Why Ben? What’s wrong with Obi-Wan?” He wonders, not noticing he’s said it out loud until he hears Qui-Gon chuckle. “What?” He flushes, affronted by the cheeky grin on his Master’s face. It is a look that screams trouble.

“A little long, Obi-Wan, huh?” Qui-Gon pauses for a moment from where he is preparing for flight. “Not exactly perfect for yelling when I need your attention.”

Obi-Wan puffs up a bit, not dissimilar to a loth cat Qui-Gon notes with amusement. “Obi-Wan is a good name.” The boy defiantly tries not to pout while saying this. “It’s not like I call you… John.” He mutters softly, voice sounding put off.

“John?” The older man’s wrinkles crease around his eyes as he smiles. He shrugs. “Ben is a good name regardless.” He defends.

“Obi-Wan’s better.” He opposes tetchily, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s so special about Ben anyways?” He asks with curiosity, always eager for new information.

“Well, Ben technically means son of my right hand, a phrase from my homeworld’s main religion.” Qui-Gon murmurs, willing to try and satisfy Obi-Wan’s need for answers. “The religion is… complex. I don’t even understand it completely, but I do understand the meaning of the phrase.” He pauses.

“Well… what’s the meaning of the phrase?” Obi-Wan fiddles with his hands, eyes alight with interest. He flushes self-consciously when Qui-Gon lifts his eyebrows as though proving a point. He ducks his head, a hint of red on his cheeks. 

“Well, in the religion, there is an entity called God. And the phrase to be at the right hand refers to being in a space of special honour, the right hand, of God.” He explains, enjoying the way Obi-Wan seems to brighten with the new information. “Being the son of the right hand should mean that you will grow into this space of importance. Rather fitting, don’t you think?”

“Oh…” Obi-Wan flushes, freckles disappearing into the deep red colour. Qui-Gon swears the tips of the boy’s ears are red. “That is kind of you to say, Master.”

“It is the truth, my Padawan.” Qui-Gon smiles, clapping a large hand on his shoulder and tugging the boy in for a hug. Obi-Wan startles, tensing for a couple of seconds until he relaxes, shorter arms just barely managing to reach around Qui-Gon. 

::::

Satine was the next to call him Ben. You see, Bant never truly latched onto the name that Qui-Gon christened him with, preferring to stick to her shortened form, Obi. Therefore, Satine is the next. She hears it once when they’re getting shot at and Qui-Gon has a plan that has an 80% chance of ending up with all three of them dead, but it’s better than their current odds. Qui-Gon yells it at him to get the boy to pay attention. 

At first, Satine is startled, thinking a new ally has joined them but is surprised that it’s just a nickname for Obi-Wan. Granted, she doesn’t call him Ben for that long because she, like Bant, prefers to call him Obi.

She does call him Ben when they’re parting ways, and Obi-Wan’s chest aches something fierce. Qui-Gon watches, eyes somewhat sympathetic as they follow Obi-Wan. He pretends not to notice as they share one small, sweet, innocent kiss. It’s everything Obi-Wan wants, but he hesitates and glances back at his Master, and then pulls away from the embrace, head bowed. It is almost everything he wants, and that makes all the difference. If he stayed, he would abandon his Master and his family in the Temple. More than that, he would abandon his path as a Jedi. Even Satine, for all he cares about her, is not enough to sway him from his path. The Force whispers in his mind, sorrow and apologetic, thankful for his sacrifice. The choice cements and he lets go of Satine.

“Ben…” Satine whispers, the word almost lost in the wind. “I… good luck.” Her blonde hair, carefully arranged on her head, moves as she bows. “Thank you, Master Jedi, for your protection.” Obi-Wan bows back, though his head remains tilted down, not willing to look at the woman.

“It was our pleasure,” Qui-Gon responds, sending a little pang of comfort down the growing bond with his Padawan.

“Do be careful.” She says, deviating from her formal script. “Farewell, Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi.” The names fall easily onto her tongue as though she hadn’t spent almost a year calling them something else with much more familiarity. 

“May the force be with you, Duchess Kryze,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he walks away from Satine, from the comfort of that life, and into the Jedi transport, his Master, a steady and strong pillar in the Force, ahead of him.

“… Ben?”

“Yes, Master.” Qui-Gon looks as though he wants to say something, wants to spill some secret, but he thinks better of it, instead closing his mouth and opening his arms, catching Obi-Wan as he falls into them. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs into the pale ear, his hand stroking circles into Obi-Wan’s shoulders. The boy, because that’s what he is, does not respond, only tightening his grip and inhaling the comforting scent of his Master.

::::

Mace is the third Jedi off the transport ship. He is also the third to call Obi-Wan Ben, though that happened a while back on a joint undercover mission with Qui-Gon. He reverted to calling him Obi-Wan, but then he reverts once more. He’s older and wiser, and, has been a friend ever since Obi-Wan was a small young child of the creche. 

“Obi-Wa… Ben.” Obi-Wan’s heart cracks just a bit more. Never again will he hear that familiar voice whispering that name to him. The deep baritone voice rumbling it. It hurts worse than leaving Satine, Cerasi, or Siri, or losing Reeft had. “Sit down with me and let’s talk.”

“Yes, Master Windu.” The response is immediate, drilled into him with years of training.

“Tell me how you feel, Ben.” Mace rumbles, voice not as deep as Qui-Gon’s, but very close. Obi-Wan is certain that if he were to press his ear to the bald Jedi’s chest, he would feel the voice vibrating.

“Fine…” That response is nailed into him out of fear. Fear of not being good enough. 

“Really?” Mace murmurs disbelievingly, leaning forwards and taking in the red-tinged eyes. A hand reaches out and takes one of Obi-Wan’s hands, feeling the slight chill that seems to emanate from him. “You don’t look fine to me.” He says in a frank manner that only he can pull off without sounding overly rude. 

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Obi-Wan responds, more exasperated than he thought it was going to sound. 

“Ben… you’re not wrong to be sad. It isn’t wrong to feel loss or to grieve.” Mace says, voice closer to whispering than to speaking. The man scoots closer to Obi-Wan who, in the eyes of the Republic is also a man but, in reality, still feels like the thirteen-year-old being sent to Bandomeer, or the sixteen-year-old who left Satine, or the- “You’ve just lost a man who has been by your side for twelve years. It will hurt.” Obi-Wan laughs, but it is more cracked and painful than any laugh Mace has heard. He desperately scrubbing at his eyes as though he wishes to scour them away.

“I know it hurts, Master. Force, my chest feels as though I was the one who was run through with a lightsaber, not Qu-” His voice breaks around the name, and he devolves into small sobs. Mace observes the boy being thrust into Knighthood with something close to helplessness. He had lost Cyslin in a less brutal manner and yet it had hurt all the same. All Mace can do is offer some comfort to the man. “There’s a hole where he was and I can’t-” Obi-Wan's voice cuts off as he cradles his head in his hands. 

“Ben,” Mace says it curtly, as though fully taking advantage of how short it is. Qui-Gon dragged it out a bit, seemingly relishing the way the name made his mouth shape. Satine’s lips always made the name sound sweet. Short and filled with emotions. “Observe and release your emotions.”

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan admits. He tries to look at his emotions. He can understand, but he can’t release and make them go away. There’s just too much. He says as much to Mace. 

“Let me help, Ben.” And it is as though Obi-Wan is a youngling once more, trailing behind Padawan Windu in cream coloured corridors. As though they’ve been transported to a time when Mace’s forehead did not have the stressed wrinkles it does now. As though Obi-Wan hasn’t just had a piece of his heart carved out with a sith lightsaber. Together they sink into meditation, aware of each other, and acknowledging one another. With a little flick from Mace, Obi-Wan begins to reveal his mind warped by guilt and self-loathing and anger and pain and… it’s too much, Mace admits to himself. So, he starts small. A small statement, I was too slow, is given to him, and they watch it together, understand it together, and accept it together. Then, he moves to another, unwanted. And to the dozens that remain. Mace does not judge, and his heart aches at the knowledge of the burdens Obi-Wan is thrusting upon himself, but he says nothing about it, only reaching for the boy… man after their meditation and bringing him into a hug that lasts a full minute.  

::::

Cody is a really good researcher. Sure, he’s great with a blaster, and hand to hand combat, and anything to do with the military really. He was trained under Jango Fett and the Kaminoans. But, one of his greatest strengths is his efficient diving into the Holonet. He can splice information from different databases, even the Jedi Temple’s database. Technically, he could just go to the Archives and find the information, but he could be seen there, so he doesn’t. Instead, he sits at the main console of his barracks and begins to get information regarding his new General. The Jedi, Kenobi, seems nice enough, but looks can be deceiving. In this case, however, it seems that they’re not. The little ginger seems to have a kind streak about the size of Ryloth. 

“What in the world…” He mutters as browsers pop up. Multiple mission reports that he skims through to reveal another thing. Apparently, the General has a penchant for injuries. A really bad one if the reports are not a joke. He digs through one that was co-written by one Qui-Gon Jinn, and he spots some errors. At least, he’s sure they are errors because he’s pretty sure the General’s called Obi-Wan… not Ben. However, he doubts that the General would let that slide.

“Ben.” He forms the name under breath, making some multi-syllable word from it. “Ben.” He says it curtly. It is more efficient than to say General Kenobi or, Force forbid, Obi-Wan. The Jedi have the oddest names.

“Commander…” He jumps, turning to look at the man in question as he walks into the barracks completely unannounced. “I was, ah, wondering if you would like-” He squints at the console’s screen. Cody flushes deeper than before, the crimson stain spreading around his neck and up to his ears. Caught researching his General by the General in question. Rex will never let it go. 

“General Kenobi, sir.” He plants his feet and straightens his back. Obi-Wan looks at the report and then at Cody and then back to the report. 

“Did you… hack into the Temple?” He questions curiously. 

“Well… I do have the access codes…” He trails off. 

“Is this… the mission to Joonta?” The General strokes his beard, leaning forwards to read his report. “Force, my diction was horrible back then. So was Qui-Gon’s.” He scrolls down.

“Sir…”

“Yes, Cody.” He seems oddly enthralled by the report, scrolling rather quickly through the pages. 

“Is your name Ben?”

“Sometimes.” Obi-Wan… Ben? Hums. Reading through the report absently. Noticing the silent prompting from Cody, the General shakes himself a bit. “Oh. It’s a nickname given by my Master. Almost no one uses it.” 

“Ah.”

“Cody… you can call me Ben if you’d like. I don’t mind.” He stops the frantic scrolling to look at Cody.

“The vod will better understand if I call you General Kenobi, sir,” Cody says while ticking the name onto the General’s name. General Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Kenobi. Jedi and their names. 

“If that is your wish.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Now, I came here to offer you tea in my quarters. Would you like to come?” 

::::

Ahsoka’s always heard of the famous Master Kenobi or Padawan Kenobi or Knight Kenobi in pairs. Padawan Kenobi was always paired with Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi was paired with Padawan Skywalker, and Master Kenobi is paired with Knight Skywalker. Knight Skywalker is now obviously paired with Padawan Tano, so they're all connected. Contrary to what Anakin would think, Padawan Kenobi is the term she’s much more familiar with, and therefore is more familiar with the pairing of Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi. Even though she knows so much about Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are within all the stories that the Crechemasters say. She knows of the most interesting missions that the duo took and is somewhat embarrassed to admit the amount of hero-worship she has for the two.

“Master Obi-Wan, is it true that you had to drink pirates under the table to rescue Master Jinn?” She asks out of the blue one day, noticing the way Anakin’s hand tightens ever-so-slightly, blue eyes dashing to Obi-Wan’s pinched expression. She’s new to her apprenticeship and she still feels overwhelmed if she thinks too hard about the fact that she’s the Padawan of The Anakin Skywalker, and is part of the famous lineage. 

“… Yes. Where did you hear that, Ahsoka?” He frowns while stroking his beard, a habit he can’t seem to break. He doesn’t look too annoyed by the question. Instead, he looks amused and rather curious.

“Ages ago, Master, in the creche.” Obi-Wan shrugs and continues, waving off Anakin’s worried words. The smile on his face is nice to see. Ahsoka thinks it looks bad when the Frown is in place, and that is all that has been in place since the invasion of Ryloth began. She’s happy that she could coax a smile out of the typically austere looking man.

A few months later while they’re travelling through hyperspace on Obi-Wan’s ship, Ahsoka blurts another question. Obi-Wan had offered to teach Ahsoka some jar’kai during the hyperspace travel, and Anakin had assented, remaining on his ship while Ahsoka trained with her other Master. “Master Obi-Wan, is it true that you once were eaten by a large squid and then spat out?” She asks at the mess hall. Cody, who was rather peacefully eating his meal thank you very much, chokes on the ration’s he was chowing on. Stitches, the medic, appears to have swallowed water down the wrong pipe and is sending a concerned look at Obi-Wan. The man in question deflates, shrugs, and answers quietly. 

“Yes, Ahsoka. On Fuleya. Master Jinn thought I was dead for two minutes. Nearly screamed his throat raw trying to cut me from the beast's stomach.” He shrugs and then proceeds to tap on his datapad as though the clones in the immediate vicinity aren’t looking as though they’re having heart attacks. They’re very… protective of their General sometimes. Ahsoka shrugs as well, turning back to her meal. “Was this also heard in the creche?” He asks with the very amused glint in his eyes. The smile also seems to brighten his face. 

Ahsoka feels a warmth in her stomach at having brought another smile to the man’s face, especially considering the stress he seems to be under with the war. “Yes. I heard lots about you.” He shakes his head fondly. She thinks that the smile on his face is worth the possibility that the clones might wrap him in blankets and lock him on the ship. Not that that would be a bad idea thinking about it… 

“Master Obi-Wan,” She starts, her head tilted in wonder. This time, they’re alone. They are at the Temple, in Obi-Wan’s living room, sharing some tea. Anakin, ever the disliker of tea, had opted out, likely going off to see Padmè. “Is it true that your second name is Ben?” At this, Obi-Wan chokes on his tea, spraying the liquid around the room as he coughs.

Ahsoka startles, putting her own cup down and scooting closer to offer some assistance. “What?” He asks weakly, bringing a hand to his chest. This has been the most intense reaction so far. She rubs her hand softly on his back. Humans are ever so slightly warmer than togruta, and she delights in feeling the warmth through his Jedi robes.

“Barriss told me that Master Unduli told her that Master Windu told her that your second name is Ben.” Ahsoka chatters, looking curiously at the man who lies on the couch.

“Technically, Ben is not my second name. I don’t have one.” Obi-Wan runs a weary hand down his face. “Ben is a nickname given to me by my Master.” 

Ahsoka perks up. “Oh, really? Like I’m ‘Snips’ to Anakin?” She questions, excited to learn more of the rather mysterious Master. 

“Well, I suppose? Ben probably has more thought put into it than Snips.” He smirks playfully. 

“How so?” At this Obi-Wan flinches. Ahsoka casts him another worried look but he waves it off.

“It’s a name meaning that I‘ll be special, essentially. It’s native to Qui-Gon’s homeworld.” He smiles softly at Ahsoka. “Much better than ‘Don’t get snippy with me.’” She laughs, happy to once more bring another smile to his face.

“Maybe.” She concedes. “I like Snips though.” Obi-Wan lifts an amused brow.

“I like Ben too.” They smile at each other.

::::

Luke never knows Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan. The thing is, Obi-Wan is dead before Luke is even born. In his place, Ben Kenobi is there. He knows the rough and weathered hand of Ben, not the smooth hand of Obi-Wan. He listens to the voice of Ben, not Obi-Wan. Because of that, there is no need for Luke to call Ben anything but Ben. 

“Ben… why are you called Ben?” He asks one day. Owen is feeling in a more forgiving mood and Beru probably took pity on the sad old man, and they have allowed Ben to visit for a bit.

“The same reason you’re called Luke. I was named Ben.” He responds with a slight smile. 

“Your Mom named you Ben?” Luke asks head tilted in curiosity much like another youngling tilted her head while asking about the name Ben. He wonders where the young togruta is, or even whether she’s still alive.

“No. My… father named me Ben." He swears that there is the gentle hum of laughter in the deep rumbling voice of his Master floating through the air. He looks around, but just the typical homestead surrounds him.

“Oh. That’s cool.” And that’s that. The boy runs away to the deeper parts of the house, a smile on his face. In his hands, a soft blue blanket flies in the wind.

::::

Vader knows who Obi-Wan Kenobi is. He is the man who took everything from him. He took his unborn child, his wife, his limbs, and his potential. Vader is sure that most of his problems stem from this Obi-Wan. Vader, however, does not know who Ben Kenobi is. You see, Anakin never knew Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan together long enough to know of the nickname. He wasn’t there as Qui-Gon whispered the name softly before his death. He never listened to Master Windu sigh his name as the two were chatting as they walked the halls. He never listened to the now-dead Duchess whispering nicknames into the ear of his former Master. He never listened to Cody jokingly calling the ginger, Ben. He never noticed how Ahsoka would whisper to Master Ben sometimes. Because of this, he misses the Jedi Master in his hiding spot. 

“Darth Vader. Have you found your former Master as I asked?” Sidious sits on his throne of lies and steeples his fingers, wretched features obscured by his long, dark robe.

“No, my Lord.” The man bows stiffly at the waist, metal limbs not allowing anything truly graceful. “Kenobi is elusive, but he is old. Soon, he will be dead.” 

Unknown to the two, Ben Kenobi, not Obi-Wan because that man died alongside the thousands of Jedi in the Purge, watches as a boy, the son of his fallen brother, plays in the sand, a toy spaceship in hand. Ben sits on the tip of a dune, smiling at the happiness the boy unknowingly projects as he wooshes the ship around above him. Ben’s hands are busy, carving a new ship for the child. He plans to make a Nubian for the boy. 

“Ben!” The boy shouts across the desert, waving his hand. “Hello!” Ben smiles, and waves his hand in a silent greeting before he stands, joints creaking as he does, and turns back to his hut. Another day and the boy is safe. Cocooned in the silence of Tatooine, Ben takes comfort in the setting suns.

“Ben.” He hears the wind whisper, joining the deep baritone of Qui-Gon, the dulcet tones of Satine, the curt voice of Mace, the kind voice of Cody, and the young voice of Ahsoka. Luke’s toddler voice adds itself to the litany of voices, and Ben grins, watching the ever-changing dunes. Today was a good day. Seeing Luke usually makes his day, and this is one of those instances. A visit from his Master would do him good, he thinks. Soon, he will be too old for the lessons that the man has planned, but he plans to enjoy them while they last. Ben walks into the dunes, towards his hut. He might only have the ghost of one of the people who called him Ben, but he carries the other four close to his heart, carefully adding one more to that collection. The newest addition has a clear voice that is destined to deepen as he ages.  

“How was your day, Padawan?” Qui-Gon is standing in front of the hut, serene as he was in life. Perhaps even more so. 

Obi-Wan smiles wryly, feeling at peace for one of the first times in a while, “Quite nice, Master.”

Qui-Gon smiles indulgently, pleased that Obi-Wan still finds some joy in his life, “That is comforting to hear, Ben.”

[ghostlywritten]

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Five

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,5k

Prologue   Chapter One   Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four

Time flies fast when you have fun. And I had a lot of fun for a week after the party. Despite the harsh weather, despite the essays piling up, despite the training sessions getting tougher it was all worth it in the end when I was left alone in the Common Room with James, chatting about everything and anything. Occasionally even Sirius, Remus and Peter would join us if they weren't in the mood to go to sleep yet and we would play Chess or Exploding Snap.

Of course I knew I would never be part of their unique friendship quartet but I was glad they would let me join in on their fun from time to time. Though I suspected they mainly missed James and didn't want to abstain from him too much.

One particular evening left me alone with Sirius and a few empty bottles of Firewhiskey after Remus and Peter decided to head to bed early and James insisted on retrieving some midnight snacks, sneaking off with a Disillusionment Charm. How he had managed that spell when we hadn't learned it in class was beyond me. Anyways, this got to be the first time I had ever been in the lonely presence of the school's heartthrob with no one and nothing in the near vicinity to distract him from me.

I swallowed nervously whilst the dark-haired boy seemed pretty relaxed, his posture slouched in his armchair.

"You know, I do wonder sometimes how things come together," Sirius' voice cut into the silence and I looked up from my fiddling fingers in my lap to see him pensively watch the flames flicker around in the fireplace, the light giving his features a warm glow.

"In what way?" I asked quietly, not wanting to somehow interrupt his peaceful posture.

"I mean, the way things have turned out in the end," he said, waving his hand to gesture around us, "Everything that brought us to the point of sitting here in the Common Room of the Gryffindors in the middle of the night. I got the best friends I had ever imagined I would get. Ever." I smiled at this. "I'm a Gryffindor, which is the least likely house a Black would get in. I ran away from home and am living with my best friend the life and with the family I've always dreamt of." Now this wasn't exclusive news. Everyone knew about Sirius' escape from the Black House last summer and that he was staying at the Potter's. I was sure a lot of people had their opinions on it but were clever enough to not voice them out, at least not with any Marauder nearby.

I was a little surprised however that he opened up about it when he had refused to say anything on the matter for the past months. One glance at the empty bottles on the table gave me the answer though. 'Everyone gets a loose tongue after a few drinks. Good thing I don't drink...much.'

"I'm glad you are out of there," I said sincerely, recalling the one time I had been pushed into the boy's locker room by my fellow female, giggling team members and had caught a glimpse of the many bruises on his back. I didn't know why but I immediately had a hunch that those hadn't only been from Quidditch. They had looked too nasty. My attempts to talk about child abuse with him were instantly cut off by the boy himself, the cold glare still giving me chills even in mere memory.

"Me too," Sirius sighed blissfully, "The Potter's are truly the best."

"Now all that is missing is the future Mrs. Black," I teased.

He wiggled his eyebrows, "I have encountered a lot of worthy candidates so far. Wanna be next?"

"Thanks, but I'd rather not catch anything," I replied, wiggling my eyebrows back at him. He gave me a mock affronted look before he smirked devilishly, my breath catching involuntarily at the handsome enhancement of his features, "Don't worry, I wouldn't ever date the future Mrs. Potter."

I almost choked on my spit, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you heard me just right," he barked out a laugh at my red face, "And you can't tell me there is nothing going between you two."

"Ehm, I can because there is nothing going on between us," I retaliated, forcing down the blush from my cheeks.

"You don't have to hide it from me," Sirius said with a shrug, his shit-eating grin still ever so present on his face and I grimaced at him, "I don't blame you. And the Potter's are the best family you can meet."

"Sounds like heaven," I replied deadpanned and he nodded his head with wide eyes and a straight grin before he reached for his forgotten half-empty glass of Firewhiskey. Sobering up slightly, I pondered on my next words before voicing them out carefully, "Don't you miss your actual family though?"

"Hm?" Sirius hummed but I knew he had heard me clearly, stalling as he took a long sip of his drink.

"You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," I added hastily when I noticed how his features hardened, "I'm just a curious cat, wondering if I could ever leave my family like that."

"Do they abuse you mentally and physically every hour of the day?"

"Ehm...no."

"Then you don't have to wonder about it," Sirius said darkly, "You can consider yourself one of the luckiest people on earth." I kept quiet, watching him close his eyes and breathe in deeply through his nose. 'Maybe I should have just kept quiet like always,' I thought, mentally kicking my tactless ass.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," I apologised softly, looking down at my lap awkwardly. Hearing him sigh made me peek at him through my lashes, "It's okay, Cec." I beamed in relief at the nickname. "My family is just a touchy subject."

"I get it, you don't want anything to do with them," I agreed quickly, trying not to agitate him further.

"It's not that I don't want to...," he sighed for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I just can't deal with them anymore. And Reg..."

"Regulus Black? Your brother, right?" I asked, having heard that name before. Apparently, he took after his brother, being the heartthrob of his year and part of the Slytherin Quidditch team albeit a Seeker.

"Yeah, my little brother," the dark-haired boy said, a smile unconsciously lifting the corner of his lips before they dropped into a bitter frown, "Of course, he is just as brainwashed as the rest of them, all thanks to our dear mother," he almost spat the last word and I winced at the hatred in his tone. At this point, it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, barely realising the other presence in his proximity. "I wish he would have just come with me," he mumbled, a vulnerable look on his face.

"You could still try to be close to him," I offered a weak suggestion, which he immediately dismissed with a scoff/hiccup. "Yeah, right. As if he would listen to me after I ran away. He won't even look my way anymore."

"But-"

"Don't think I haven't tried. He even said we weren't brothers right when I left." I frowned at the crack in his voice, my heart squeezing slightly at the pain in his eyes. Who would have known how much he suffered under all that loud and playful facade of his.

"Maybe he was just mad that you were leaving him behind," I pondered softly, racking my brain about how to make him feel better, "Sometimes we say things in the heat of the moment that we don't really mean." Sirius kept quiet, pensively watching the flames as he refused to make eye contact. I looked away from him, figuring he wouldn't like eyes on him at his vulnerable state, "I think, you two could still be close despite all the differences."

"...You really think so?"

"Yeah, one of you just has to make the first move."

"How do I know he won't reject me?" he asked like a small child, the armchair he sat on suddenly looking too big for him.

I thought it over. The possibility of rejection was definitely there, I wouldn't lie to him about it. After all I knew nothing about his brother's personality. "You don't," I responded, "But the world is full of lonely people waiting for the other to make the first move. And so many bonds get lost because of it. Don't you think that's sad?" His grey eyes snapped over to mine for the first time we had started this serious talk, surprise flickering through them before they were set into something akin to determination.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything though, James came bustling through the portrait hole, his arms packed with various snacks as he giggled like a fool. "Dig in, guys!" he cheered, dropping everything on the coffee table and just like that the serious mood was broken.

I watched Sirius pick up some cookies, munching on them as he chatted up a storm with James about the upcoming Quidditch match. By now, I knew it had been mostly the alcohol that made him spill everything. I just hoped he wouldn't feel too awkward about it the next morning.

The game against Slytherin had packed a punch. The Hufflepuffs' Bludgers were nothing against their aggressive tactics.

Let's just say no player got out there unscathed and the Snitch got caught by Regulus Black - the Slytherin Seeker - just before Angie managed to get a goal that would have gotten us a win if it had only been a few seconds earlier.

I rubbed my sore side where a Bludger had hit me at the beginning of the game as we went inside the locker room, the Slytherins celebrating on the field and laughing at our backs.

"Worst game ever," Frank, who was trudging next to me, muttered and I nodded wordlessly, my eyes watching the stiff back of our Captain as he led us into the little hut.

"This game was pathetic!" James hissed as soon as the door closed to our locker room, "Nothing worked the way we have practiced. Sirius, Frank where the hell were you two when they rained the Bludgers down the Chasers?"

"I-" Sirius started but James continued, still heated, "Oliver? You're the Keeper, right? You are supposed to keep the Quaffles out of the hoops and not hit them through!"

"I didn'-"

"And Angie? Were you even on the field? I couldn't bloody see you once near the opposite hoops."

"James, I was trying everything," Angie protested next to me, "The Slytherin Chasers w-"

"Don't even try any excuses on me," James spat agitated, "I know you want to quit after break but the way you play makes me think you want me to kick you out right now."

"James," I spoke up astonished as Angie sat back with a pissed off look. I knew he could get angry from past experiences during matches but that was straight out rude. "Calm down, we all tried our best."

"Tried your best?" the boy hissed, and I resisted the urge to tell him he sounded like a snake. No, that would probably make him madder, "If that's your best you can say bye-bye to your dreams of becoming a professional Chaser, Cecily. Not even the Montrose Magpies would want you!"

My eyes widened in surprise, his words cutting a knife through my chest.

"James," Sirius started this time, his gaze actually serious for once as I deflated into my seat, feeling more hurt than I had expected, "It's enough now."

The Captain sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself. "Fine. Get dressed, we will talk about this at practice next week. Whoever needs to go to the Hospital Wing, stay back. We will go together."

I jumped out of my seat as soon as he dismissed us, rushing towards the girls' room to take a shower and change, his words repeating in my head like a mantra.

"Don't take him seriously," Angie soothed, interrupting the silence around us, "He always gets pissy when we lose a game."

"I know," I said with a sigh, wincing when I touched my side. Angie grimaced at the already bruising spot, "You should get that checked by Madam Pomfrey."

Nodding in agreement, we walked out together.

"Don't you wanna wait for the others?" Angie asked as I kept walking. "No, let's just go," I said over my shoulder, forcing her to concede when I didn't stop.

"Ms. Grant," Poppy greeted me, "It's been a while. I hope you realise, neither the sweets nor Mr. Potter have changed my mind, no matter how persuasive the Pixie Puffs can be."

"It's not that," I replied, shaking my head at Angie when she gave me a questioning look, "I just need to get my side checked."

"Ah, the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor has been today, right?" Poppy remarked, frowning at the sight of my bruise when I lifted my shirt, "Honestly, this game should be banished from school. It always gets way out of control."

"Still nothing that you can't fix," I replied, watching her shuffle through her cupboards after setting me down on one of the beds.

"What was that about Pixie Puffs and Potter?" Angie asked as we waited.

"Just me unsuccessfully trying to get an internship here at the Hospital Wing," I explained quietly as the doors of the Wing opened once more to reveal the other players trudging inside, pushing aside the few Slytherin players that tried to walk in as well. Luckily, they were in too much of a good mood to stir up a fight like they usually would, instead opting to just verbally make fun of the boys in the background.

"Didn't I tell you to wait?" James asked annoyed as he sat down on the unoccupied bed next to us.

"Yes, and I didn't," I snapped back, pissed off at both him and the pain in my side. James opened his mouth, but Sirius clasped his hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Shooting the grey-eyed boy a grateful look I turned around as Poppy came back, gesturing for me to lift my shirt. I obeyed, hissing as she applied some balm on the bruise but sighing immediately in relief as the pain diminished into a dull ache. "Apply this once more tonight and it should all be well by tomorrow," the matron instructed as she handed me the tube and I thanked her with a quick smile before I hopped off to leave. Bidding the others goodbye, I ignored James' lingering look, particularly at my bruised side, and left to have a quick dinner and head to bed.

This day had been exhausting enough.

The following days were miserable to say the least. The Slytherins were still gloating about their win, classes were hell as nothing went into my brain and on top of that I wasn't on speaking terms with James and therefore, the rest of the Marauders as well.

It wasn't like I didn't want to, but his words had left a sting more painful than the bruise on my side; Bringing up my deepest desire and throwing it back in my face was a big no-go. I almost regretted opening up to him like that and the more days passed with him not talking to me the more I wished I hadn't ever walked up to the Quidditch pitch for that game with a little extra-confident swagger in my steps.

I also wished I didn't have to attend the regular Quidditch practices; James was more commanding than usual, which led us to double laps and longer simulated games until it was pitch black outside. The only bright side was that at least Sirius tried to cheer us all up and even occasionally chatted with me in-between breaks.

"I think something is wrong with Peanut," I mused, adjusting my grip.

"Something is wrong with what?" Sirius asked perplexed.

"Peanut," I repeated, gesturing towards my broom. The dark-haired boy stared at me. "You...named your broomstick Peanut?" he asked slowly, uncomprehending.

"Yeah, why?"

"Just- no matter," he dismissed quickly, his lips twitching in amusement, "Why don't you tell James that something is wrong with Peanut? He can fix it."

Raising a brow, I stated, "First of, Peanut is a splendid name for a broomstick." I rolled my eyes as he burst out into small barks of laughter. "Secondly, I'm not on speaking terms with our dear Captain right now and you know that."

"Yes, I do." It was his turn to roll his eyes. "And I still think it's ridiculous."

"It's not! He mocked me!" I protested.

"Yeah, but weren't you the one, who told me that people say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I don't appreciate you using my words against me!"

Sirius grinned before he turned sirius again, "He was angry, and I can safely say that he did not mean a single thing he's said back then."

"And why isn't he talking to me then? He hasn't even apologised!"

"Because he is also proud ass. Or rather, he doesn't know how to approach you," Sirius snickered and my eyes widened in surprise.

"He doesn't know how to approach me?"

"Yeah, he thinks you are angry at him-" "Which I am!" "-and he is still trying to figure out how to apologise." I stayed quiet, watching the subject of our conversation fly around the field, giving instructions to each player. "If you let it up to him, I would say he will work up his courage by the end of the year. At the earliest."

Later that evening, I decided to stay up after dinner. The others went to bed quickly whilst I sat on my bed with my broom on my lap, contemplating whether I should go down or not. I didn't even know if James still waited at the fireplace as I hadn't been there the past few days but figured it couldn't hurt to try.

Putting my robe over the sleeping clothes, I softly padded outside, carefully taking a peek around the corner into the Common Room after walking down the hallway. The space was empty except for one lonely person lounging on the loveseat in front of the warm fire, the sight achingly familiar.

Swallowing nervously, I gripped my broomstick tighter as I headed down the stairs with purposefully loud steps (as far as possible with socks on). His glass-rimmed eyes snapped over, widening, and he immediately sat up when I approached him.

"Hey James," I greeted him awkwardly, holding my broom in front of me with both hands, almost as a form of protection.

"Hey Cec," he breathed out as if in relief, his eyes rapidly flickering from me to the broom and back to me.

"Um-"

"Come sit," he offered quickly, patting the seat next to him and I obliged, relaxing and simultaneously feeling nervous at the proximity, "Why do you have Peanut with you?"

"Oh, right. Ehm, I think something is wrong with it," I explained, handing it over at his request, "It's not turning as smoothly as it used to."

"Hm, 'might have gotten tweaked during the last game," James mused, brows furrowed in concentration as he examined every inch, "It got hit by a lot of Bludgers, didn't it? Bloody Slytherins. But nothing I can't fix."

"Yeah, I figured that was the cause," I nodded in agreement and his eyes flickered over to me, the fire giving his irises a honey-coloured tone. "What about you?" he asked softly, "Is your side doing better?"

"Perfectly healed, thanks," I informed him, melting slightly on the inside at his concern, "You know Poppy." He cracked a grin at the nickname (causing my heart to miss a beat) before looking back down at the broom, his gaze turning serious.

"Cecily, I...wanted to- you know- I kind of said some messed up things after the game," he stammered slightly, fiddling with the broomstick nervously. My features relaxed at his nervous state and I allowed a small smile as he continued, "I really shouldn't have said what I said- you know the thing with the Montrose Magpies and you- and everything else I said to the others, I didn't mean any of it and I will never do it again, I solemnly swear! I guess, what I'm trying to say- and what I've been trying to say the past few days, but I didn't know how- well first, I figured I should probably give you some space since I never do that with Evans and she always gets madder and madder, but-"

"James," I cut him off and he immediately shut his mouth, "It's alright."

His brown eyes widened, "Really?"

"Yeah, I get it. It's okay."

"You are not mad anymore?" he asked tentatively, staring incredulously as I shook my head, "It's that easy?"

"Well, it can be," I replied with a grin before sighing, "I just don't wanna be mad anymore." And I missed his presence. But hush.

James also sighed, in relief as he leaned back. "Good, I don't think I could have waited any longer."

"Waited? For what?"

"Asking you out, of course."

This time, I really choked on my spit.

Chapter Six

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part one

a/n: did you really think i could control myself enough to NOT do an enemies to lovers professor!bucky fic? did you really think i have that much willpower? i fucking love this trope and it’s so cute and i definitely will be doing more of these. k bye! leave feedback if ya want, and as per usual, don’t copy/share w/o my consent! if you read this all, luv u tons <33! - ali

wc: 4.2k words

-

Walking into your office bright and early was always the worst part of your day. Not because you hated your job, or because you hated the students you taught, but because of your neighbor.

Being a college English professor was something you dreamed of since you were a young girl, and it was something that you thoroughly enjoyed doing every single day.

Even if it meant being up before 7 AM during the week. 

But something that never failed to irritate the absolute everliving fuck out of you when you walked in was Dr. James Barnes.

Dr. Barnes was an incredibly educated man. He could tell you anything about historical events. Any day, any year, any country. But there was something about him that gave off an air of arrogance and ‘I’m better than you because of all my friends in the staff.’ You only joined the English Department of the Avengers University about a year ago, but in your time there, you’ve already built a strong reputation for yourself. 

Unfortunately, you were a bit shy when it came to conversing with your coworkers. Your most prominent friends who you’ve made are Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the Russian Literature and Studies professors. They were the ones you gravitated to the most, naturally, and have been incredible friends since you started this job. 

While they’ve been friendly, you’ve been having a pretty difficult time breaking out of your shell. You tend not to really put yourself out there in terms of sociality because of how unfamiliar you were with the setting, but you were slowly building your confidence to truly get to know your coworkers.

Steve Rogers, one of your fellow English professors, came into your classroom on this gloomy, early Monday morning with a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Mornin, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve says while placing your cup on your desk, taking a fine morning?” He asks, breaking into a grin.

Steve was contagious when it came to his happiness and uplifting mood, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

“I’m just peachy, Professor Rogers. How was your weekend?” You ask, opening your laptop and reaching for your lesson binder. 

“It was actually really nice. I got my grading and planning for the week done last week so I got to spend time with the fiancée.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, how nice! What’s her name again...? I keep forgetting, forgive me.” You laugh, failing to recall the name of Steve’s beloved.

“No worries, Y/L/N.” Steve laughs at your aloofness, “it’s Peggy. She actually works as a military strategist.” He says with a proud smile, which you took notice of rather quickly. 

“That’s really interesting... I would never even be capable of doing anything with the military.” You giggle, making sure you have everything ready for your lesson today. 

“So... Y/N.” At the mention of your first name, your head shoots up in concern. Was something wrong? “Do you have anyone special at home?” Steve asks.

Your mouth felt dry at the question. You know Steve probably wasn’t trying to pry, but you couldn’t help feel yourself shrink under the question. 

“I- uh, no. Unless my cat counts.” You try to lighten the mood and lessen the speeding of your heart. 

Steve takes notice of your bright blush and embarrassment. To be fair, you were embarrassed. You were well into your twenties, a successful woman with a stable job, but little to social life. Or love life, at that. 

“You have a cat?! Let me see ‘em!” Steve exclaims, trying to deflect from the previous question. 

“Oh! This is her...” You say, flipping a frame facing you on your desk to Steve. In the picture frame was a beautiful, tiny black cat. “Her name is Lucy.” You tell him, smiling fondly at the image. 

“How old is she?” Steve asks.

“She actually just turned a year old. I thought it would be nice to have some company in my apartment when I moved here. I was getting a bit lonely.” You tell him, reminiscing on when you first adopted Lucy.

“She’s a real sweetheart.” Steve’s not able to wipe his grin away while looking at the furry animal. 

“Oh, you don’t even know. She’s a spoiled little thing, you should see her when I leave in the mornings.” You scoff, looking back to your checklist on your computer.

“Y’know, Bucky has a cat, too. I think he would like to know that someone else around here has one, the rest of us all have dogs.” Steve mentions casually, but your brows furrow in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been the most sociable person here since I arrived, but... who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve met someone with that name...” You search your brain for any recollection of meeting someone named Bucky, but you were coming up completely short. 

“Oh! Bucky is what James usually goes by... I mean, normally people don’t call him James, just Bucky or Barnes as nicknames, y’know?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, that makes sense,” you say with a slight laugh, “Dr. Barnes and I haven’t interacted very much since I started here... I get the feeling he’s not too fond of me.” You say with a smile to not make Steve uncomfortable. You knew the two of them were friends, as they were always chatting in the professor’s lounge and cracking jokes. 

“Bucky...? Not fond of you? Did something happen between you two that I wasn’t aware of? You’re not unlikable or anything...” Steve wonders out loud, trying to understand. 

“I-I’m not too sure, Professor Rogers.” You try to stop the conversation here before things got too blown out of proportion. “I hate to cut this short, b-but I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, so I should get going.” You tell him curtly, gathering your things into your tote and seeing Steve out of your office. 

“I’ll catch ya later, Y/L/N!” Steve says as he walks in the direction of his office down the hall.

“See you, Rogers!” You say back, making your way out of the building to the next. 

Just as you locked your office shut, you see a head poking out of the office next yours.

You keep your head down, not really wanting to engage in any aggressive banter right before your lecture. 

But of course, Dr. Barnes had other ideas. And while you really didn’t have the time, Barnes definitely did. 

“Mornin’, Professor Y/L/N! Already late to your first class of the week?” James calls from his spot as you walk in the opposite direction to the exit of the building. 

“I’m actually perfectly on time, Dr. Barnes. And it’s Doctor! Have a good day!” You turn back briefly for about two seconds to meet his gaze, and walk into the biting morning air, ready for the long day ahead.

Dr. Barnes, damn you for making my days ten times longer than usual.

-

Going home was always your favorite part of the day. Your apartment was your safe place, your place where you could drop the professionalism and not worry about having to interact with other people. 

Most of your nights were spent reading, watching movies, learning new recipes, and whatever you could do to take some time to yourself. Lucy was roaming the kitchen while you were trying to perfect your latest baked good. 

As Lucy intertwines herself between your legs, you look down, making sure you don’t trip over yourself.

“Luce, you have a whole plaything set up over there, why do you insist on putting yourself right ther-” Just as you were scolding your kitten, your phone rings from its’ spot in front of you on the counter.

“Hello?” You say into the speaker.

“Y/N! How are you?” Natasha’s voice came through the speakers, making you pull the phone away from your ear. 

“I-I’m good, Natasha. What’s up?” You ask, wondering why she was calling you since she was very clearly not at home. 

“W-Well,” she lets out a laugh with commotion in the background, “a few of us are down at the bar a couple blocks away from your place, I think.” Another round of ruckus in the back, “would you like to join us?”

“O-Oh... who else is there?” Your voice came through softly, making your nervousness evident through the phone.

“Just a few people in our group... Wanda, Banner, Stark, Rogers, Wilson, Odinson...” Natasha’s voice trails off, like she was still going to mention someone else, but was holding her tongue.

“Oh... Uhm, I was just in the middle of a recipe, but I think I could swing by for a bit...” You look down at your mixing bowl, covering it and placing it in the refrigerator. 

Lucy scurries through to your closet once you open it, searching for something to wear, because your current situation was quite frankly sweats. Choosing a black turtleneck and jeans, you dab on a little bit of makeup and pull on some boots, making your way to your car and warming it up. 

Once you made it to the bar, you were met with a stench that only bars have, one you haven’t smelt in years. College was fun while it lasted, though. 

The first person you spot is Wanda, who’s sitting at the bar waiting for drinks, you presume, so you make your way towards her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came! Natasha said you were, but we weren’t sure, you don’t normally do, but it’s perfect! I’m so excited, we never hang out too much, you know? And-” Wanda was rambling, and although you could tell she didn’t want to offend you, it stung. You know you haven’t been out with your coworkers, but it was just one of the effects of your social anxiety. 

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know, but I’m gonna try to come out more... I think it’s time.” You tell her with a small smile. 

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m glad, you deserve to let loose and have fun every once in a while, you know. It’s okay to relax.” She pats your shoulder, and you can feel her warmth in it, both physically and emotionally. It was nice.

“I- Yeah, thanks, Wanda. Do you need a hand with the drinks?” You ask, seeing the two full trays. 

“Yes! If you don’t mind, we’re just back there. We got you a drink too, but we didn’t really know what you liked so we just played it safe.” She explains, pointing to the Old Fashioned on the tray.

“Oh! You didn’t have to...” You trail off, placing the tray down on the table. 

“Hi, Y/N! Didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight, good to see ya!” Steve says while scooting further down the booth seat to make room for you, everyone else welcoming you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, guys. I guess I really did need to get out of the house.” You say while sipping on your drink. 

As the chatter around the table starts again, you quickly end up finishing your drink, caught up in the atmosphere around you and how you were having such a good time. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad. I should do this more often.

And as this thought came to your head, Natasha sees that you’ve finished your drink, motioning to the empty glass.

“Need another, Y/N?” She points to the bar, “I’ll come with, I need one too.” 

You nod, scooting out of the booth.

“I’ll just have a glass of red,” you tell the bartender, Natasha giving you an odd look, “I still have to drive home later..” You laugh when she hums in realization. 

While waiting, a tall guy with dark hair is already chatting up Natasha. And just when you didn’t think your night could get any weirder, you feel someone come up next to you.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all by yourse-” But the voice was cut short as soon as you turned your head towards whoever it was. As soon as your mind recognized the face, your eyes widened, met with equally wide, ocean blue eyes.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was filled with confusion and mild disgust, ouch. 

“I-I was invited... By Natasha...” Your voice was meeker than you wanted it to sound, because who the hell was Bucky to question why you were here? 

“Oh. I didn’t know it was you, for the record.” Bucky states, watching in satisfaction as you look down at your wineglass that the bartender placed in front of you. She gave you a sympathetic look, turning back to another customer.

“I-Yeah, I figured, Barnes. Sorry to disappoint you, I suppose.” You grab the glass and walk back to the table, trying to not look as though someone just called you ugly to your face. 

“Y’know, I don’t quite understand why you can’t just let her be.” Bucky turns his gaze to Natasha.

“I just... don’t like her. It’s as simple as that, Nat. She walks around acting all high and mighty, like she isn’t equal to us.” He reasons, trying to make his point. 

“Bucky... Maybe if you took five seconds to get rid of that ego of yours, you’d know the kind of person she is. And she is most definitely not as pretentious as you’ve made her out to be. She’s a human being, just like the rest of us here.” Natasha finishes defending you, turning back to the table, leaving Bucky even more confused than before. 

-

As the night went on, you very evidently avoided anything that had to do with Bucky. If he came by the table, you would waver your gaze elsewhere, and if he initiated the conversation, you would keep quiet. Although you knew it was probably the easiest way to avoid conflict with him, you could tell you were folding in on yourself. 

And Wanda and Natasha most definitely noticed. 

Every time Bucky spoke, it was like you would disconnect. Focus your mind elsewhere, filling your head with thoughts completely unrelated to your current atmosphere. 

“Y/N, what do you have planned for the holiday break?” Sam’s voice pipes up, trying to include you in the conversation. 

“Oh, uhm... Not much, I usually stay at home and make myself a nice meal. Take some time to myself, y’know.” You smile at the thought of the holiday season. You were completely ready to take the time off to catch up on self care. 

“Oh, no family to go see?” Steve’s voice asks from across the booth.

“Uh... no, not really.” You try let out a light laugh at the answer, trying to not show the stiffness of your body at the topic at hand. 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” Steve says, trying to rectify the situation.

“No! You’re completely okay, Steve.” You reassure him, not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable. 

“Well, now that we’re on the topic,” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence, “Y/N, how come we know, like... nothing about you? You’ve been at the university for a bit now and this is the first time we’re seeing you outside of work.” Bucky’s expression was smug as could be, and you were really fighting the urge to cry right now. 

“Bucky, leave her alone.” Wanda’s voice was coming as a warning, daring Bucky to go even further.

“No, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything,” Bucky keeps pushing, “but you just seem to act like we don’t deserve your time, like you’re better than all of us or something.” 

“Buck, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice was like ice. “Just leave her alone, for God’s sake.” 

The table falls silent, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I-I’m sorry, guys...” Your voice was holding on by a thread. “I think I should go, thank you so much for inviting me out with you guys. Have a good night.” And with that, you slip out of the booth, disappearing out the front door at an exceptional speed. 

The rest of the table was watching Bucky with several emotions, including mild disgust, anger, and hopelessness. 

When will this stop?

- 

That night when you return to Lucy, you were drained. Tired. Exhausted. Ever since you were a child, it seemed that you couldn’t outgrow your shyness and quietness. The only place that made you feel like you belonged was your lecture hall. And although you tried, several times, to overcome this horrid quality of yours, it seemed that you could never escape it. 

It just always came back.

And you know how it made you seem to others. Pretentious, snobby, it gave you an air of a superiority complex.

When in reality, it was exactly the opposite. You were so afraid to speak sometimes that you just choose not to. You didn’t want to be judged or ridiculed for saying the wrong things, so you thought it was better to keep quiet.

Becoming a professor definitely helped you break out of that shell a little bit, but it never really translated outside of the classroom.

Flopping down on your grey comforter, you realize that you couldn’t continue to feel like this. It was years and years of meekness, of keeping to yourself. That was the reason why you were almost 30 with no boyfriend, no fiancé, and certainly no husband or child. 

You knew you had to make a change, but you didn’t quite know how to. But that’s something you’ll have to worry about later, because you were close to passing out right now.

-

The following week had been... different. You were spending less of your lunch hours in your office, alone, and finally accepting Natasha and Wanda’s consistent invites to eat with them. It took them by surprise at first, but they welcomed you with open arms.

It was now Thursday, and you were in Wanda’s office, digging into your pasta salad that you’d packed.

“So, Y/N, just out of curiosity...” Natasha speaks through her lunch, “What suddenly made you want to join us? I mean, after last week, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see us again.” She laughs a breath out, clearly feeling guilty for last weeks’ events. 

“Well,” you supply after a moment to think, “I realized something. After James... spoke his mind, I guess you could say, I realized that he was right, in a way.”

“Wha-” Wanda interjected but you continued to explain.

“I realized that I had removed myself so far from the people that I see every single day so much that they don’t even know me. And it’s been like this most of my life... I usually just keep to myself, but I think that even though I’m terrified of speaking to people I don’t know, it’ll never get better unless I actually try.” You release, feeling a metaphorical weight lift off your chest. 

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad you finally chose to let us in... But Bucky was still an asshole, and totally out of line. We know we can’t speak for him, but we’re all really sorry for what he said... He doesn’t even know you, and he shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.” Wanda says after a moment of silence. 

“Thank you, guys.” You smile, gathering your things and standing up. “I have a lecture to prepare for, but... thank you for everything, both of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good people in my life that I can call my friends.” You’re shocked at the fact that you feel two sets of arms wrap around you at your confession, holding you tight.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to thank us for being your friends... you deserve good things, never forget that.” Natasha tells you, and for the first time, you actually believe it. 

“Okay, I actually have to go now, but I’ll see you two later?” You ask, already halfway out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll text you!” Wanda yells back, and you’re making your way back to your office to gather your belongings for the lecture.

But of course, you could never get ready for a class without Barnes popping out and giving you a little pep talk.

“Afternoon, Y/L/N. Getting ready to bore another groups of kids to death?” He asks, a smug look on his face with a mug held in his hand. 

“Actually, Dr. Barnes, I happen to have excellent students who truly enjoy being in my class, being that I don’t teach any 101s, that’s more Steve’s part. But thanks for the concern.” You tell him, shutting the door behind you and letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You’ve never spoken to anyone like that in your life before. 

And James was equally shocked at your attitude, standing in his doorway, dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open. He was staring at your shut door, wondering where the quick with came from.

He begrudgingly turns back into his own office, truly trying to process what just occurrfaxed.

While you slung your bag over your shoulder, there was an infectious smile gracing your face, proud of not being his doormat for the first time.

That day, class was even better than usual, and you even let your students out early, telling them to enjoy the rest of their day. 

And that night, you went home feeling the best you’ve felt in a long time.

-

You went into the university the next week feeling refreshed from you girl’s weekend that you hosted at your apartment, inviting Natasha and Wanda, and even another professor named Carol who you’ve recently befriended as well- to unwind and have fun with. 

And as you swing the usually locked door of your office open with ease, your eyebrows furrowed. 

I remember locking it when I left on Friday...

But the only thing that seems to out of place is the iced americano and chocolate croissant sitting on your desk.

On the bag of the croissant, there was writing that read, ‘Thought I’d make it up to you.’

Who the hell would go out of their way to bring me breakfast? You thought to yourself. And they know my usual...

You honestly assumed it could’ve been one of the girls, but you don’t know what they could’ve been making it up to you for. Maybe girl’s night? But still, everyone did a good job of bringing things with them to compensate for you hosting. 

But nothing explains the door being unlocked. But you weren’t really afraid. You didn’t keep anything too valuable in there anyways, taking most papers home with you, and keeping classified files sealed in the file cabinet. 

It didn’t really scare you, but you truly wondered who would go out of their way to do something like this for you.

The rest of your day went by pretty quickly, and it was oddly quiet. Specifically from the office next door.

It’s now 5 PM, and not a peep from James.

It unsettled you, to say the least. First the breakfast and unlocked office, and now not a word from him. 

It was weird.

You spotted him talking to Steve earlier in the day, but you haven’t seen too much of him either.

Although, there was a staff meeting tonight, so you’d definitely see him then.

As you made your way to the designated conference room with Natasha, you see Dean Fury waiting for everyone to arrive. He greets you with his usual disgruntled look, which you’ve learned to not take personally over the time you’ve spent here at Avengers University.

Slowly, everyone made it in, taking a seat. 

“Good evening, staff. I hope you’ve all had a productive day thus far, but there’s a reason I’ve called you here tonight. I have a proposal for all of you.” Fury explains, making you all curious. 

“I’ve decided, after a few months of toying with the idea, I’d like to do partner teaching. Each and every one of you will be assigned a counterpart, and you will both help each other in making the others’ teaching environment better. Here at AU, we’re committed to always pushing the envelope, and that means that sometimes, you’ll have to get uncomfortable. And if you’re wondering, there’s no way out of this. You all have to do it. Each one of you has received an email to your .edu inbox with your partner assignment and further instructions on how this will be done.” A pause overtook the room as everyone pulled out their phones to check their emails. “Happy teaching, we start next week, folks.” Fury finishes, exiting the room. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your eyes when they saw the opened email. 

Dr. Y/L/N, you’ve been selected to teach alongside Dr. Barnes.

Oh fuck no.

And the look he was sharing with you from across the table confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing. 

-

a/n pt.2: ooooooh cliffhangerrr!!! holy shit y’all this bitch long asf. don’t worry, part 2 will be coming soon! comment and lmk what you thought down below! this might have a part 3, i haven’t decided yet !! lol, anyways, i have class in an hour, so bye! if you made it this far, i seriously love and. appreciate you!

[embretheworld]

I was bored so here’s some hc’s

I have a lot surprisingly so a lot of these are coming off the top of my head

-Laxus does not have good eyesight in the eye with a scar because that's where the lacrima was implanted. But he can still see out of it, it just gets blurry sometimes.

-If you had a lacrima implanted in you, there's gonna be a scar where it was implanted, and depending on what type of magic it is determine's the shape.

-Laxus's mother was born without magic and had the same thing happen to her but she was 16 when she had it implanted in her hand, she also had asked to have one and Laxus didn't.

-Laxus was born without magic thanks to his mother being born without magic too.

-When you get a lacrima implanted in you, depending on what type and how strong it is, depends on how sick you get. It's a counterbalance so people won't always get lacrima's implanted in them. The day it was implanted you get very sick as the body's reaction to an overwhelming influx of magic in your system, it happens every year in the same day it was implanted but the first time is the worst.

-"This is what I get for being emotionally slutty," Loke probably looking back on some kind of event.

-Loke with freckles!

-Loke sleeps when he's bored.

-Lucy suffers the worst writer's block ever and can't seem to ever get out of it no matter how hard she tries(I feel you girl).

-Plue really likes candy.

-Happy got Lucy a little frame that said "Life is better with cats" for her Birthday and despite how much Happy annoys her sometimes she keeps it on the desk she writes on and treasures it dearly.

-Do not let Erza play whack a mole or the games where you have to throw balls at clowns or vases you have to knock down to win a prize.

-Or let the dragon slayers play any driving game in general.

-Horror movies do not scare Aries, a lot of things do, but not horror movies.

-Mira really likes candles, but always gets them when they're on sale.

- Gray once got banned from a strip club after being mistaken for one of the strippers.

-Juvia could literally kill someone if she wanted to since our bodies are made of 60% of water but has no idea. She desires to learn more about blood magic if she so desires but hasn't.

-Levy wants to study rune magic but procrastination is her worst enemy, also people trying to attack the guild interrupting her every time she tries to cracks open a book to try and learn it. She's stopped trying to learn it in fear that if she tries someone will start attacking the guild again.

-Gajeel & Juvia and Gray & Loke are very underrated friendships that need more attention.

-Natsu chugged hot sauce and didn't even flinch. (A friend of mine did that and they scare me.)

-Lucy carries around a box of matches just in case Natsu wants a snack whenever they go on missions.( which is a lot of the time, a lot of her money has went into buying matches, she's had to go to plenty different stores to buy some because she's scared the clerk will think she's up to something and explaining it will only make her seem more suspicious.)

-Technically demon slayers are just exorcists but with more violence.

-In a human au Gray was an exorcist once.

But in normal Fairy Tail he takes side jobs on getting rid of demons from ordinary houses or other places which pays a lot.

-The wool Aries can make, can make really nice jackets. She's made jackets using it, but Loke stole it cause he likes comfy things in general.

-Loke actually needs his glasses, his glasses double as both sunglasses and normal glasses(someone I know someone who has the same type of glasses, I also wear glasses so.) due to being in Earthland too long, certain things started deteriorating like important sense's thankfully it wasn't on a major scale but on a longer one but it can't be fixed.

-Due to his eyesight deteriorating he has better hearing.

-Loke and Evergreen are nearsighted, Levy is farsighted.

-Ivan named Laxus because Laxus looked so much like his mother it only seemed fair.

-Laxus has an aunt who's his mom's sister. He talks to her through letters because she lives across the sea.

-"My little dragon," was a nickname that Laxus's mom gave him after he had gotten the dragon lacrima implanted in him against her wishes since if they were to do it, she wanted to do it when he was 16 like her but Ivan thought 8 was a much more appropriate age. (It was not). The only one who knows of this nickname for him is Makarov, his mom, his aunt, and his dad.

-His dad once used the name in a fight against him and he wanted to punch him so bad.

-If Mira were to swear she'd put sailors to shame.

-Erza has horrible road rage.

-I refuse to believe that Loke has two sets of ears, he does not have human ears and lion(cat ears?) ears at the same time just lion ears while in his celestial form and humans ones in his human form. He wears the piercing he used to wear on his human ears on his cat ears when in said celestial form, or outfit or whatever.

-The car ears(I'm calling them that now) are actual ears, you'd be surprised how many people try to pull on them in thinking that they aren't only to be pleasantly surprised that they in fact are. He likes to be pet behind them whenever they are there and he doesn't have regular human ears.

-He also despises chokers/collars with the very soul of his being. He might hiss at you if you bring one even close to him that's how much he hates them.

He doesn't even have a reason to he just hates them.

-Erza sometimes refers to her guildmates as "Feral children".

-Dragonslayers cannot whistle if their life depended on it.

-Loke knows French because most of his masters were in the French Court meaning it was mandatory for him to learn it. (I refuse to believe anyone with common sense would date him with that haircut he had in the human world, looked like something a 5-year-old would draw on a stick figure in an attempt to draw hair).

-Levy knows French, Arabic, and a few other languages.

-She fucks with people by talking to Loke in French and making them think that they're talking about that person why they aren't.

-Mira tried to learn French, she failed very badly since she kept forgetting the parts before the word and kept messing it up.

-The dragon slayers can purr when happy, growl when mad, and whimper when sad.

-The same thing applies to Loke but mostly because he's an overgrown cat.

-In order to date someone at the guild if you aren't in it you have to get Erza's blessing/asking her if it's alright since she's kinda the older sister and also the first one you wanna tell.

-Loke does not blow-dry his hair after he washes it because it just poof's up and there's no way to fix it other than to wash his hair again and look like a drowned cat for an hour or two. Though his hair is very soft after he washes it and it properly drys and isn't wet.

-Celestial spirits can dream, but their dreams consist of looking back on old memories from an outside viewpoint.

-Freed says "Let's have another round tonight" very unenthusiastically when drunk, just that sentence, no other sentence, just that one, only when he's drunk.

-Loke's good with finances along with fashion because one of his previous master, Valeria, pushed her financial work on him as a 'learning experience'.

-Loke was also offered a modeling job before and Lucy is super pissed since he of all people can get one but not her. (In the human au, he actual does modeling)

-If Mira and Loke were to team up it'd most like to be to help people in the guild get together.

-They would succeed.

-They both also like wine.

-Loke and Erza are bi, Mira is pan.

-Upon learning about this, Juvia considered Loke a love rival, be assured her that he was none and that he'd give her some advice to trying to date Gray because Gray and romance don't go well if she kept quiet about it.

-Gray ended up figuring it out and still holds it against him.

-Loke does not like being compared to a cat, he despises it so Gray as the best friend he is does exactly that.

-The two of them have blackmail on each other, and Gray often drags Loke into watching horror movies knowing he absolutely despises him with the very core of his being.

-Gajeel will fight anyone who hurts his best friend, Juvia.

Or anyone who hurts his guild but Juvia is different since she's been with him since they joined Fairy Tail.

Natsu once grabbed a pan straight out of the oven and horrified everyone in the room.

[delimeful]

my virtues uncounted (4)

winner of august’s second monthly fic poll! hope you enjoy!

warnings: antagonist/villain remus, panic, injury, blood, cliffhanger

previous chapters

-

In the time it took for everyone else to get worked into a panic, Logan had come up with a few theories on why, exactly, their connection with Thomas would be so suddenly muted.

Of course, many of those theories were only useful if they could be proven, and seeing as they  had a limited amount of time and space to work with, he could set them aside to figure out the direct, exact cause another time.

For now, the priority was finding their way back home. Once they were able to reconnect with their part of the mindscape, their connection with Thomas would also hopefully repair itself.

“Think of our current status as dealing with some temporary interference,” he told the others. “Once we leave the subconscious, our metaphorical signals should reach Thomas again.”

“‘Should?’” Anxiety asked, looking dubious.

“And how are we to leave when this shadowy scourge is thwarting our every escape attempt?” Roman added, glaring balefully up at Anxiety.

“Hey, you technically haven’t made any escapes yet, so I technically haven’t thwarted anything yet.” Anxiety ignored Roman’s exasperated expression with ease, shrugging. “Schrodinger’s Thwarting.”

“Anxiety, kiddo,” Patton stepped a little closer, pulling them all back on track, “I don’t think we should stay down here for too much longer. It’s not good for us to be disconnected from our rooms like this.”

“And that’s not even mentioning the fact that we don’t know how Thomas is functioning without his core sides connected to him,” Logan added, hoping that the other Side was in a reasonable mood.

Anxiety kept his face neutral, but Logan could see the little crease between his eyebrows and the way he went slightly paler. “It’s still too dangerous to risk without a plan.”

“And with a plan?” Logan pressed.

Anxiety’s shoulders bunched up even further, and for a moment he was worried he’d gone too far, but then the other Side let out an irritated sigh.

“If it’s actually that concerning, and I can more than imagine how it could be, then. I guess. We could try. With a plan,” he emphasized as Patton perked up excitedly. “One that I agree to.”

“That’ll only take us a lifetime,” Roman grumbled, but even he seemed revitalized now that they were getting somewhere.

Logan found himself getting excited as well. “In that case, I need all the information you have on routes to neutral territory and the weather cycles here.”

Anxiety materialized the data into files on a touchscreen phone, which would work quite efficiently as a display considering their size. “Good luck figuring anything out. This end of the mindscape is way more… chaotic. Stuff’s always changing.”

“I don’t mind a challenge,” Logan reassured him, and then set to work making spreadsheets and comparing trends. It was almost soothing.

In the background, he could hear Patton asking about who they were most likely to encounter if they attempted to beeline for the neutral zone, and Roman bartering for possession of his sword back. (The trade seemed to be settling on Anxiety handing over the sword in exchange for no stabbing and no nicknames for a week. Roman was perhaps more reluctant to stop generating witty quips than necessary.)

As Logan suspected, when Anxiety didn’t feel implicitly threatened by them, he was much more open. Though, that might have also been the exposure to Patton’s determined friendliness, which Anxiety seemed to eye with the wariness of a stray cat. He’d have to bring this up the next time they had a debate about the effectiveness of so many of Thomas’s Sides being hidden away.

Now wasn't the time for that, however. Now was the time for action, as Roman liked to proclaim.

“I’ve found the best path for us to take,” he announced, drawing all eyes to him.

Probably no time for an illustrative powerpoint to demonstrate how he’d come to this conclusion. Perhaps later. A summary of the plan would do fine.

Roman and Patton glanced up at the large side frequently, but Anxiety listened with a critical attentiveness that Logan found himself appreciating. At the end, his brow was furrowed, but he didn’t seem fully decided one way or the other.

“This plan will only work in our current time frame,” Logan cautioned. “As you said, the landscape of this place is always shifting, so we need to take advantage of the patterns that we can. I expect getting lost would not end well.”

Anxiety nodded, and then seemed to come to a decision.

“If you’re certain that it’s the best time… Fine, I’ll believe you.” Anxiety grumped, his body language already displaying several signs that he was growing nervous at the idea.

Logan blinked once, genuinely surprised that he had convinced the other Side, before regaining his composure. No time to be touched by Anxiety’s apparent faith in him. “All the data I reviewed points to this being the best opportunity.”

“One condition,” Anxiety said, holding up a finger. “If it seems like the plan has failed and things get dangerous, our backup plan is giving me access so I can rise up.”

Roman raised a sharp eyebrow, his sword once again sheathed at his side. “I seem to distinctly recall you freaking out about that idea?”

Anxiety made a face at him. “Yeah, and I’ll continue to not like it, but if it keeps you losers from getting discorporated, I’ll deal. Do you guys agree or not?”

Logan traded looks with the other two, and then nodded. “It’s a reasonable backup plan.”

“Sure,” Anxiety snorted, and then hesitated for a moment before reaching out and placing his uninjured hand palm up on the table next to them.

Patton plopped himself down immediately, but Roman wasn’t as eager.

“I am not going back in your pocket,” Roman told him, unimpressed. “Lint on my outfit is a no-no, let alone giant lint.”

“Your outfit is already ruined,” Anxiety snapped back, rolling his eyes. The blood on the white outfit somewhat resembled a candy cane.

Logan raised a hand to interject before it could become an argument. “If I may suggest, your hood seems like it would both give us more space and allow for a vantage point to watch your back.”

“I can watch my own back,” Anxiety growled, and then sighed. “Just don’t fall out.”

He was exceedingly careful as he reached behind him to the hood of his jacket, and the three of them had no problem getting in, though they did end up knocking a few limbs against each other in the process.

As Logan expected, it was much easier to grip the folds of the hoodie fabric and looking over the edge of it gave them a vertigo-inducing view.

“Okay,” Anxiety said, sounding as though he was speaking more to himself than them. “Let’s do this. It’s probably going to crash and burn horribly, but whatever.”

“Remind me to speak with you about cognitive distortions later,” Logan mused.

From where he was peeking over Virgil’s shoulder, Patton cheered. “Woohoo, you can do it!”

“With our talents to help, we can’t fail,” Roman added, making some sort of dramatic flourish that Anxiety couldn't even see. “Onwards!”

“What am I, a horse?” Anxiety shot back, and then firmed his shoulders slightly and stepped to his door. “Remember, low in the hoodie so you aren’t seen.”

After receiving a chorus of agreements, he took an audible breath and stepped through the door.

The hoodie bounced slightly against his back with every step, but nothing too jarring. Logan resisted the completely illogical urge to hold his breath as they descended the creaking stairs.

After a long moment, Anxiety’s shoulders lowered slightly. “Nobody’s down here.”

He picked his way carefully through the living area, until they were back where they started, at that huge, weathered front door. It seemed much less insurmountable from Anxiety’s eye level. The other Side grabbed the knob and pushed it open, stepping over the threshold.

They all let out a breath of relief.

From there, Logan’s attention was consumed with providing directions in a low mutter, carefully navigating their way through the shifting, fog-covered landscape. Patton occasionally pointed out a distant landmark he maybe recognized, mostly unhelpfully.

Still, all factors considered, they made it a fair distance before things went wrong.

Anxiety had just taken the first step over a wooden bridge when the hair-raising cackle split the air behind them. At Logan’s side, Roman latched onto his wrist with an iron grip.

Anxiety held still for a moment longer before turning around, his hands tucked into his pockets in a faux gesture of casualness. “Remus. I thought silently stalking people in the dead of night was too subtle for you?”

There was an unpleasant crack of bone that made Logan glad he couldn’t see Remus. “Wouldn’t want to scare the little emo and his little uninvited stowaways off, would I?”

The three of them exchanged panicked looks. He knew?

Anxiety took a step back, hissing in frustration. “Are you the reason they’re like this? Or Dee?”

Another cackle. “The enchantment was all me! Double D would ruin my fun if he knew. But you’re no spoilsport! I can already feel all the exciting new additions to this game you’re thinking up in that squishy grey matter of yours. We can have a little fun together! Whaddya say?”

Anxiety took another step back, his back twitching with the urge to turn and flee. “Remus. C’mon. Think about Thomas.”

The atmosphere suddenly darkened, sending a chill down Logan’s spine.

“Maybe he’s the one who should be thinking about us,” Remus said, the grin in his voice suddenly much more menacing. “I know you’re tired of being ignored, Anxiety. You’re just as sick of our snakey friend’s interference as I am. Without them, there will be space for us!”

“Thomas needs them,” Anxiety urged, his rough voice a sharp contrast to Remus’s singsong encouragement.

“Puh-lease, we’re not taking them away forever! The Core Bores are like cockroaches; you just can’t get rid of ‘em, even when you crush their little heads.” A thoughtful pause. “They’re just about cockroach-sized now, too!”

Roman’s grip grew painfully tight.

Anxiety shook his head, jostling them slightly, and then began to slowly back across the bridge. The tension in him seemed to scream that he wanted to turn tail and flee, give into his flight instinct. But he couldn’t turn without putting them directly in Remus’s line of sight.

“Don’t be so antsy! I know you want to be noticed as bad as I do,” Remus advanced with slow, predatory steps.

Anxiety was too far from the other end of the bridge. He’d be caught.

Logan made pointed eye contact with the others, and held his free hand out, palm down.

“What I want doesn’t matter here. It’s too risky! It’s. Not. Happening.” They were stepping faster now, the noise overlapping.

Patton nodded once, placing his own hand on top. They both looked to Roman.

“Aw, that’s what I never got about you, emo. You’re always too scared to jump in and grab the bull by the horns! A little goring can be its own kind of fun, y’know.”

Roman’s expression finally turned certain, and he slammed his own hand down, completing the stack.

All of them felt it when the balance shifted, and there was a heartbeat of stillness before everything erupted.

Anxiety turned on his heel and bolted, seconds before a manic, ear-splitting scream split the air from behind them.

“YOU’RE LEAVING US!”

“Rise up!” Roman screeched, clinging to the hood’s fabric for dear life. “Rise up!”

“I don’t know how!” Anxiety yelled back, ducking and weaving through the fog-filled forest that had formed around them. “I’m trying to— it’s not the same as just appearing!”

“You have to stay in one spot and focus,” Patton said, trying hard to keep his voice calm. “You can do this!”

Anxiety came to a standstill, and for a few breathless seconds, they waited.

“It’s… it’s not working!”

“Try and focus on where you want to appear. Let yourself rise, don’t try to control it—“ Logan caught a flicker of movement behind them. “Watch out!”

Anxiety twisted out of the way, a double headed axe thunking into the trunk of a nearby tree. He clenched his fists, closing his eyes tightly, and Logan finally felt the familiar sensation of their part of the mindscape dropping into place around them.

He caught one last glimpse of Remus, body twisted into a throwing gesture and gaze almost shocked, before the scene changed to their living room.

Anxiety staggered, face pale, and the lot of them ended up sprawled over the length of the staircase, ungraceful but undoubtedly home and the right size once more.

A moment spent catching their breath, and then.

“We made it!” Patton yelled, voice cracking in relief as he threw his arms out, laid out on his back.

From the carpeted landing he was still facedown on, Roman grunted an exhausted affirmation.

“It was a close call,” Logan said, pushing himself up and dusting his tie off. “We’ll need to take precautions for the future.”

“Good thing we have Anxiety!” Patton said brightly. “He’s an expert at precautionary measures!”

“As long as he doesn’t precaution Thomas into never going outside again,” Roman muttered, with no real aggression to his tone. He seemed just as glad that Anxiety had gotten them all out of there, if not more.

Anxiety didn’t rise to the bait. Logan turned to thank the other Side properly, and was met with the sight of him curled in over himself, a hunched over ball of hoodie. “... Anxiety?”

With a hoarse cry of pain, the Side yanked something from his side. A comically oversized throwing knife, drenched in a slick coating—

“Oh,” Anxiety said in a small voice, struggling to stem the bloodflow from the stab wound in his torso. “Shit.”

Within seconds, a dark stain began to spread, and Logan immediately lurched forwards, trying to seal the wound, erase it, even just put enough pressure on it to clot the bleeding—

Anxiety inhaled sharply. Nothing about the nature of the wound changed. It wasn’t healing. Logan’s hands were covered in warm-wet-red and nothing was healing.

Past the ringing in his ears, he could hear the others yelling behind him, trying to accelerate Anxiety’s integration into the conscious mind.

All he could focus on was Anxiety’s face, tight with pain and resignation.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, the hitch in his voice betraying him. “We can’t die. It’s fine. Can you— Can you feel Thomas?”

Logan nodded stitedly. The connection was faint, but growing stronger.

Anxiety nodded once, sharply. “Good. That’s— That’s all that matters.”

Then, like the question had been all that was keeping him awake, he went limp like a puppet with strings cut.

[seijohsfairy]

you’ve been in love with kuroo tetsuro for years, silently supporting from the sidelines. it’s where you feel comfortable, felt- comfortable. so now that kuroo finds out you’re his most loyal fan?

.wordc. 9.5k tw manipulation, degradation!, corruption, bullying, dubcon/noncon, coercion, yandere kuroo, fingering, oral, Kuroo is on the world’s biggest ego trip

.author’s note. I finally finished this monster after struggling for so long ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥) inspired by fanatic by @/jackrrabbit​. if you want to read an amazing bullying smut, it’s seriously perfection

+

An obsession. If someone asked, you’d never call it that. An appreciation of the sport maybe, or of the hard work and dedication of the players. But an obsession might’ve been more accurate, as you have been a fan for years now. At least you can admit it to yourself. Not a day goes by where you forget to think about volleyball, and more in particular, him. It’s not your fault it makes you so happy… It’s not at all, and yet—

You’re able to watch the young men through the open doors of the gym, the resounding bangs of spikes flattening against the polished floor filling the building. You huff out in the afternoon sun and hide under the sun-bleached, red parasol as best you can, before wiping a bead of sweat from your temple. Soon everyone will be pouring out of the classrooms, which brings a smile to your face. But for now, you spare another look inside the bright hall, following the red jerseys as they move swiftly around the court. The speed at which the balls connect with the floor have always impressed you, but your eyes are instead on the middle of the group, tracing the number one mindlessly.

“Senpai, are you alright?” your junior squeaks out. You flinch in surprise at her question, almost dropping the drink you’re holding in the process. Her short brown hair sticks to her face where a wide-eyed expression marks it, though a small, unsure smile stays in place. You quickly bring out a laugh though, waving off her concern.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry,” you put down the glass can and press your cool fingers to your forehead, smiling, “the heat just makes it hard to actually pay attention. Could you repeat that, please?”

“I’m just so glad you suggested this, s’all!” she beams, putting the last of the lemonade out on the table, each can in between ice packs. They’re already dripping, coming summertime close to unbearable. “My big brother always talks about the fanclub at home and that other teams don’t have a fanclub near as good as ours!” You smile at her while you pour chunks of ice into the white wine, putting it out too. The entire table is decorated with the team colors, flyers to one side, donation jar and cash register on the other, with all the drinks, ice pops and watermelon slices in the middle.

You even made all of the small, red cat charms that hang from the parasol yourself. A bit overkill perhaps, but no effort really feels big enough when you’re as dedicated to a team as you are, even if it’s embarrassing to say. But well… you’d do just about anything to support Nekoma and the man you’ve been crushing on for years now. While you peer up at the windows of the classrooms, mentally keeping track of just how much longer you’d have to wait for the rest of the fanclub to join you, you miss the proud look the younger girl sends your way. Yui, the libero’s younger sister, pulls her hair up in a tiny ponytail. “You must be so proud since you started it all by yourself.”

You look back down at her, flushing. “Of course I am proud of the fanclub, but I’m even more proud of our team. Y’know, I’ve been watching some of them since middle school and they all seem to enjoy it so much. It makes me want to support them in any way I can.” You’ve taken the requests of the team to heart to the best of your ability. Hopefully you can sell a lot, they’d really need new cleaning equipment and some of the shorts and jerseys could definitely be replaced with new ones.

“Of course Nekoma’s angel would say that,” a voice giggles, the black haired girl strolling up behind you. All the others walk close behind, right when the bell indicating the last class rings. The rest of the fanclub waves politely, many of the girls with their own healthy flush. “Make some space, Mrs. Kuroo, everyone will be getting out in a minute or so.” You give the other third-year a little poke in her side, looking down at the menu as you pick at the corner of the laminated sheet. It’s so silly, but the nickname makes you all warm inside. How nice it would be to actually be… well. You shouldn’t think so far ahead, or not ahead at all, since Kuroo Tetsuro has absolutely zero interest in you. The overflowing amount of love you have for him isn’t making up for anything.

“Don’t call me Mrs. Kuroo. It’s embarrassing,” you tell the raven-haired girl, glancing back inside the hall for just a moment to watch as said man gulps down his water, sweat drenching his hairline and dripping down his chin. “Even if I like it, he doesn’t know I exist.” Some of the girls coo at your admission, all of them at least aware that you’ve looked up to the Captain for years. Your friend sends you a knowing look, before cracking her fingers and getting to work on the cash register. She’s been trying to get you to say something for months, and with the last few weeks of high school growing closer and closer, you can’t even blame her.

But what would you even say to the guy you’ve crushed on for so long? After all, you’ve been in his class for three years now and he never once spoke to you directly either. He’d probably be creeped out by your dedication to him. Before you can think of any more, bunches of students start pouring out of the buildings, looking tired out by the day. When they see your stand, many of them light up, already taking out their wallets to get some cool lemonade. You clap your hands and look at the girls surrounding you, before nodding. “Alright, let’s do this! We’re going to sell everything out today. Yui, you get that side?” You turn to the first few customers and put on your best smile, handing them a menu. “Welcome to the Neko Outdoor Café! Would you like a drink?”

///

“Captain!” Yamamoto calls, pout more pronounced with each passing second. “Please let us take a break. Please.” He’s about to get on his knees and beg. “Come on, man. I need this.”

The raven haired man just lifts a brow in his direction, before turning his attention back to the bench so he can tie his shoelaces properly. “Shut up, you’re being noisy.” He doesn’t care to ask what the guy is on about, already more than annoyed at having to practice in this sweltering heat. Every movement feels slower than usual, it’s pissing him off.

“They’re going to sell out and leave, Captain!” the other tries again, tugging at the edge of Kuroo’s jersey like a child. In fact, he looks like he might burst into tears. The Captain ignores him.

“I’m sure they’re keeping some extras for us,” Yaku tries, smacking Lev’s hand away from his water bottle and downing the last of it.

Kenma hums. “You know they wouldn’t leave us with nothing, they’re all so thoughtful.” The setter is already trying to soothe a teary-eyed Yamamoto, while Kuroo straightens out to wipe himself down with a towel. “They probably have a whole pack of ice lollies stored away for after practice. Our cheer squad leader wouldn’t be caught dead forgetting about anyone.” At the mention of your name, the Captain frowns, the sound unfamiliar. “She even remembered to bring some mango for me last time, and I don’t even remember telling her I don’t like watermelon that much.”

“Who now?” Kuroo frowns. He pokes out his tongue to wet his lips, following his team’s gazes to outside the gym, where rows of students are lining up. He can just see the edge of a red table, curiosity peaked.

Kenma’s face blanks when he looks over at his long time friend. “The leader of the fanclub? She’s been to every one of our matches since like… eighth grade or something. How have you never noticed her?” Some of the boys turn to him in confusion too. Kuroo crosses his arms over his chest, before chewing on his answer. It’s not that he ignores anyone on purpose. But your name doesn’t ring a bell, neither does the description.

“Pretty sure she really likes you, too,” Lev suddenly says, getting up from his spot on the floor to bound closer to the door to watch past it. “She always wears clothes with the number 1 and your name on it. She’s very nice, she bought me chocolate milk after our last game.” He stares out the door for a moment longer, before perking up and waving for his older teammates’ attention. “Ooh ooh, she has ice creams for us, she’s calling. Can we please take a break, Captain?”

Everyone turns to the third year. Even Kenma is giving him an unspoken question with his expression. “Fine, whatever,” Kuroo just sighs, giving into their antics. “But after that we’re getting back to spike training and you better all jump higher than I’ve ever seen you jump.”

While waiting in line, he asks to point you out. You’re busy smiling at every single student that comes by, colored shadow falling over you because of the sun shade that is just as red as the rest of the table. Just as red as your flushed face, and as red as the shirt that you’re wearing with his name on it. You look kind, with a childlike joy on your face, innocent in the way you beam out warmth. And after staring at you for a while, you do start to look a bit familiar. Huh. So this is what his biggest fan looks like. He’s not let down, not exactly, though he does wish that you’d focus less on the lemonade and more on him as he waits in line with the rest of the team. But it’s understandable, you’re just trying your best. Even he can see that.

Suddenly, you look up from the cash register, having been shoved in the side with an elbow by your friend and in the split second he catches your eyes, he can see several emotions flash in them. The last one before you look away is definitely wide-eyed mortification though. You look away from him and turn to your friend, whispering something in her ear as your cheeks grow red-hot. You blank at her answer, before biting your lip. It’s strange, but something in the things you do are cute to him. How you nervously toy with the edge of your shirt. How you try to keep your eyes on the ground but glance back every so often anyway. How you put on a smile. You must really, truly like him. And he can’t say he doesn’t like at least that. That innocent expression on your face is to die for. Really.

After a minute or so, you seem to gather your wits and look up to walk from behind the stall. “Guys, you don’t have to wait in line. Come up here,” you wave them over, not looking at him at all. Somehow, this only makes him giddier, wanting to see you flush even harder. Maybe you’d pass out if he talked to you. Maybe you’d cry. Would you even be able to handle it if he got any closer? The smirk that clings to his lips is one of ego-filled happiness, he can’t help himself. Something about you makes him feel like he’d be able to break you with the slightest of pressure, and though he’s never quite wanted to control someone like that, he can’t say it doesn’t feel exhilarating.

Everyone moves out of the one line to skip to the front, as you busy yourself by glancing under the tables to pull out an extra cooler, opening it swiftly. That way your skirt pulls up insanely high, though you try to keep it down with one hand. Oblivious to what you’re doing, surely. His cute, little fan. He’ll have to give you a lesson on proper manners, but not now. All in due time. When everyone starts thanking you, you just rub your neck, straightening back up.

“How much are they?” Kenma asks, “I’ll pay. Is it alright if I get the money to you after practice though?”

“No, no!” you beam, “they’re free for you guys! I could hardly let our own team pay for some stupid ice pops and lemonade.” You don’t hesitate to smile at Kenma. Kuroo holds his tongue from breaking into your conversation for now, instead taking one of the watermelon slices and biting into it. You seem to sink into yourself a bit when he turns back in your direction, almost as if you’re trying to disappear into the background entirely. Would be hard though, with that bright a shirt. “We also have wine if the adults want any,” you continue, shooting Kai and Yaku a guilty glance then and trailing off. “Though that might not be a good idea if you’re still practicing.”

You still have yet to look back at him, creating a void of something in the pit of his stomach. Why don’t you want to look at him as much as he wants to look at you? “Are there any strawberry pops?” Lev asks, probably aimed at you but Kuroo’s already taking a step towards you before you can answer.

This way you’re not able to ignore him any longer. Your eyes are so big and stunned when you glance up at him, tilting your head back just so you can look him in the face. There you are, he thinks. You pull a lip into your mouth, cheeks burning with color. Your chest heaving up and down, heart clearly pounding so hard he swears he can hear it. And Kuroo is living for it, the thrill of making you so affected by his presence undeniable. He wants to be the one to make you so flustered, wants to be the one to taint it too. He does know that’s probably not normal, but it’s so tempting. He smiles down at you, watching when your lips tremble softly. Cute. He softly calls out your name, grinning wider when you seem to mellow for a moment at the sound. “Did you do all this yourself?” he asks, enjoying the starstruck expression on your face.

You have to take a moment to get yourself back on track, clearly. Understandable. “Mhm,” you manage though, looking anywhere but him again when you realize you’re staring. “W-Well, everyone helped plan it, of course. I just made everything they planned out.”

“Yeah?” His smirk has yet to leave his face, but if it could grow any wider, now would be the time. You give a shy nod, looking back up at him for a moment. “The lemonade looks good. The watermelon’s good too.”

You’re practically glowing at his compliment, taking a step back to roll yourself back and forth on the balls of your feet. He wants to place his hands on your shoulders to keep you still, but really, you might just faint if he does so he holds himself back. “T-thank you s-so much! I’m glad you like it. I hope you’ll be able to use the funds well, but if you ever need anything else, you can always ask me,” you lift your shoulder and smile at him for just a moment, blush still raging on your face. You blank then, quickly adding, “or any of the other girls! We’re all here to support you, so… p-please keep working hard and doing your best a bit longer!” You’re stuttering like crazy too. He’ll have to work that out of you.

Before he can say anything else, someone calls for your name, so you quickly bow and rush back to your spot behind the stall. The girls giggle and poke at you, some of them hardly subtle in their whispering and cooing. And Kuroo smiles, because he might have just found something new to peak his interest.

///

You couldn’t have known. Not really. You couldn’t have known the full extent of his anger and definitely not how it would turn on you. So why does it feel like you made a horrible mistake? As you are sweeping the last of the hall, you hear the familiar, resounding echo of volleyballs smacking against the smooth surface. It’s a sound that’s long grown near and dear to your heart. Still, you put the brush to the side to make your way to the gym door where it stands swung open. It’s a Friday. The Nekoma team doesn’t play volleyball after school hours on Fridays. You frown as you peek around the cold, metal door into the otherwise vacant hall. As the class representative this term, you’re basically expected to be the last one here.

The man causing the constant butterflies in your stomach is facing away from you, frustration seeming to radiate off him in angry, black swirls as he throws balls against the wall, making continuous tosses to himself. You wait for a moment longer, glancing back into the school building as you debate your options. Though you were unable to watch the end of practice, you saw the beginning. Kuroo was anything but the collected player he normally is, the sight of it making your heart ache. Very hesitantly, you knock your knuckles against the metal. You rather wouldn’t be putting yourself in his proximity by choice, last time enough to make you so flushed and flustered you were stumbling all over your words.

Still though, you just want to help him. Maybe you could make him feel just a bit better. “Kuroo-san?” you try softly when he doesn’t react. He catches the ball at your call, pausing for a second. Then he turns to you. A shadow on his face, tall shape seeming to loom over you even from afar. You dig your nails into your own palms at the sharp glare that’s sent your way, his eyes flicking over your entire body, coming to rest back on your face. He doesn’t say anything, so you try to gather your courage and clear your voice, taking a step into the gym. “I- Sorry, I heard you still practicing. Are you- I mean- I don’t want to assume or anything, b-but- you don’t normally practice on Friday.”

The brief flicker of courage you had soon sinks deep within the pit of your chest as the silence continues. He bounces the ball on the floor once before catching it again, lifting one of his brows. Still with that gleam in his eyes, the one set off by the darkness cast around him. Then he sighs, and in a second his smile is plastered back on. The smile you’ve grown so used to seeing from afar, but it doesn’t feel quite right. It certainly doesn’t reach his eyes. It looks a bit off too, lopsided like he’s trying to convince himself to keep it up. “You— Ah, you’re the… fan club girl,” he nods. He tosses the ball up a few times, seemingly thinking, before he clicks his tongue. His deep voice resonates through the empty hall. “Yeah, sorry if I’m bothering you. I wanted to get some more practice in.”

You wring your hands into the front of your shirt, mindlessly bunching it up in between your fingers. When his eyes are back on you, you have to fight yourself from taking a step back. “No, you’re not bothering me at all, I don’t expect any less from our team Captain.” You swallow. Then, barely louder than the thumping of your heartbeat against your ribs, a thought tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “Would you like me to help you practice for a bit?” It’s a little thing, so small, and you’ve done it for Lev and Kenma plenty of times. But your hands shake when you ask.

Kuroo’s eyebrows pull tightly together, his expression looking so off-putting even when you normally think everything about him is beautiful. You think he’s perfect, even drenched entirely in sweat and with grooves dug deep under his eyes, exhausted to the bone, so why? Why does he glare at you this way, and how can you make your heart stop wavering in your chest? You briefly stand there to think about what you just said, trying to figure out exactly what you did wrong to make him feel even more shitty, but come up blank. He must have misread your tone of voice, or maybe you had a dumb expression on your face. Just some stupid mistake you made. That’s the only explanation you have why amazing, gorgeous, perfect star player Kuroo is acting the way he is.

“Do you even know anything about volleyball? You don’t look like you do.” The sharp comment feels like a slap to the face, and you take in a little breath as you attempt to rid the unsettling tension between you two. Maybe soothing him isn’t the way to go, but you know Kuroo makes himself feel better with practice and that is something you can do. For him, you could for hours.

“I— I can… serve alright,” you hesitate, looking from his face to his shoes instead. “I know a l-lot about volleyball and though I- I might not be the best, I’d still help, right?” His sharp eyes are still on you like an accusation, and no, no, no, this is all wrong but you don’t know how to fix it.

“Aah,” Kuroo coos then, chuckling to himself as he passes the ball your way, “you want to help me.” You barely catch it, clutching it close to your chest as he motions you closer with his hand. “O‘course you do.” With sheepish steps you make your way toward him because he asked, staying an arm’s length away for your own poor heart. Last time you were this close to Kuroo, all you could do was give some mindless encouragement, even though you were trying. You just couldn’t help get flustered back then. A cold shiver makes its way up your spine though, and you fight the pressing feeling to run. This is your favorite person in the world you’re looking at, and you’d do anything for him. You would, really. “Because you’re my fan, aren’t you?” he echoes your thoughts, and you bob your head in reply.

Your voice is barely above a whisper now, throat closing up when he leans in as if to inspect you more thoroughly. “Yes, of course, Kuroo-san. I’ve been a fan since I first saw you play a match back in middle school.” You wince at your honesty. Don’t tell him that, your mind screams, but it’s too late. All you can do is bite your lip to keep more from tumbling out.

“Yeah, yeah, so I heard.” He gleams, petting your hair and you try to keep your elation to a minimum, because his eyes are still just as sharp as they were when you first walked in, but butterflies flutter in your stomach. His fingers linger for a moment, the weight of his hand making your heart jump. It’s gone soon enough. “You in my class?” You nod eagerly, but while you do he’s already speaking again. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You’re my biggest fan, huh?” He’s leaning closer again, closer, too close, almost like he’s going to kiss you and you might sink through the floor if he gets any closer.

You try not to let the faint smell of his cologne overwhelm you, his face flushed at the edges of his cheeks because of the exertion. You open your mouth to figure out a response again, but Kuroo is faster. “You come to each match, hoping I’d notice you, right? Begging for my attention like a little kid, wearing my name on your body like that. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

It takes your brain a while to unfilter the words, playing and replaying them now that you take a step back. “Aren’t you embarrassed to be so obsessed with me? Such a cute, little fangirl, just begging for a look your way?” No. It’s not like that, you are not like that. You’re not obsessed, you just care a lot about him. About the entire team. “Pretending to be into volleyball so you can talk to me, right? Do you talk to Yaku’s sister so you can get to me? Do you talk to Kenma so you can get to me too?” You want him to stop talking, why is he still talking? Why is he acting this way at all?

“N-No, it’s not like that,” you bring out, flushing when his hand wraps around your one shoulder to keep you from backing away from him. He straightens out to his full height, towering above you and as you follow his tall body up to his expression, you hate how he is smiling. A loathing, off-centered smile that gleams on his handsome face. The feeling to run grows so strong in your mind that for a moment you can barely ignore it. There’s something wrong. But of course you remain, you just want to make him feel better. “It’s not like that at all. They are my friends. I love volleyball.”

“You love me, Y/N-chan?” he asks then, dark eyes glazing over.

“I— I’m your biggest fan,” you settle on responding. Wouldn’t it be too much to admit you love him, even if you do? He doesn’t seem to take it, looking down at you with thinly veiled irritation now. The fingers on your shoulder tighten, though you’re too distracted to notice. “I mean- Of course I… love… you, but not in an obsessed way! I just have a lot of respect for how hard you work,” you drawl out, throat closing up when the gleam on Kuroo’s face seems to drop in favor of something softer. Something like admiration. You used to love how he would wear his emotions on his face, but now it’s too much. He’s still not satisfied, you can see it. “And I’d do anything to make you feel better so-”

“Hah. Aren’t you just incredibly sweet,” he sighs, finally letting go of your shoulder. You can feel the weight of it long after it’s gone, warmth trailing down your limbs tentatively. You’re so glad you let out a trembling puff of relief. He takes a deep breath, before he smiles again. Softer, familiar, and your heart slowly comes back to life. This is how it’s meant to go, this is how you always imagined it as Kuroo leans down to brush a strand of hair away from your face back behind your ear, sweet and tender. Hair that you keep longer than you’d want because you know Kuroo likes it that way. You’re sure your stress of earlier was showing on your face, cheeks burning for attention. “You’re so pretty like this, my little fangirl. Mine.”

You don’t miss the drop in his voice, a possessive tone that seems misplaced. As he brushes a knuckle past your cheekbone, tingles pool in your belly. “I’ve had a really tough day today, you have no idea. But I’m glad you’re here now. I think I do know how to fix my shitty mood, actually!” He takes your hands in his then, enveloping them with soft traces of his fingers. He pulls you toward the side of the gym, dragging you behind him. Kuroo Tetsuro is holding your hands. It feels too quick, sprung on you so suddenly it makes your head spin, but they are just so warm around yours like you hoped they’d be. The dark-haired man looks back over his shoulder. “You said you will help me, right?”

“Mhm,” you smile, watching him, how his shoulders move under the red volley jersey and his hair waves softly with each step. And he’s still holding your hand. This must be a dream. You’re on a mindless path until he walks you past the lockers and the damp feeling of the shower air hit your face. That’s when you slow your feet and pull against him a little, blinking out of your daze to glance to the side. Kuroo turns to face you. “Hey, this is the boys’ room.” Your obvious statement makes him chuckle, one hand coming up to cup your cheeks and though it’s insanely overwhelming, you don’t have the heart to pull back. He squishes your cheeks together until your lips turn into a cute, little pout.

“You’ve never been in a boys’ locker room, sweet thing? You’re just that good, huh?” Kuroo stares you down with his pretty, golden eyes while you fail to answer. Isn’t being good supposed to be a positive thing? But he says it like it’s something dirty, like you’re not quite right and you can’t help the sinking feeling that fills you to the brim. He pushes the door to your side into lock, the loud clang making your heart race. When he turns back to you, the darkness in his face is what scares you most.

Cats don’t eat cats, do they—

He doesn’t hesitate to grab you by the shoulder and shoves you up against the lockers, your back connecting with the cold metal sharply. You wince, his hand still around your cheeks. It’s so much bigger than you, you realize, he’s so much bigger than you. That never scared you before, but now you’re painfully aware of the looming shape and the way he’s able to look down at you like this. You swallow and keep his golden gaze. But he releases his hold on your face to hold the back of your neck, long fingers splayed across the soft skin, before leaning down so far into you, you can feel the tremble of his breath on your face. “Would you like me to kiss you?”

Your eyes are wide, unbelieving. Of course you do, but… You wait for what feels like a lifetime, his warmth too close to you. You can’t say no, can you? So you nod and drop your shoulders, eyes fluttering closed. If he were to kiss you all those uncomfortable feelings swirling inside would surely vanish. Kuroo hovers his lips over yours, you can feel them so close, but no more than that. And he chuckles, tilting your head to the side with two fingers instead. “No. You don’t deserve it yet. Don’t you think you have to work a bit harder for it? I know you’re good at that.”

He walks toward you until you’re fully pinned to the cold locker in between his legs, as he connects his lips with your neck. His lips are so hot, like steaming coals on you, and you can’t help but grab onto his bicep for support. It flexes under your touch. He kisses down your throat and jaw, lips dragging trails of kisses and tongue carving paths down to your collarbones and to the edge of your shirt.

And you’re so overwhelmed that the person you’ve loved for so long is actually touching you, that you don’t notice how tight his grip is wrapped around your neck, fingertips pressing ovals into the expanse. “You just wanted this the whole time, huh,” he coos, voice sickly sweet. But when he looks up at you from under those lashes, the gold in his eyes has the sharpness of a blade, daring you to reply. You shudder when his hand drops down to drag your shirt up. “Bet you’ve had so many guys hoping that one of them would feel and taste like me.” He unceremoniously shoves it up from your body, over your shoulders. You look to the side where it drops to the floor, your school uniform a crumpled mess.

“Kuroo-san,” you bring out, self consciously wrapping your arms around yourself to cover up. You don’t like this. You don’t like him telling you that you’ve had people just to prepare for him, don’t like him eating up the sight of you like you’re a piece of meat and you definitely don’t like how he presses his thigh in between your legs to pin you up to the locker. “W-what are you doing?”

He huffs in amusement, tangling his fingers into the hair at the top of your neck to tug back your gaze towards his. “You can drop the politeness, silly girl,” he says again, letting go to brush softer circles into your skull. His lips brush over yours as you stand there, trembling, unsure what to do. How can you say no to him if he’s here, so close, with you for the first time in ever? He taps his fingers on your hands to make you release your hold on yourself, which you do with a bit more coaching. Maybe you just think this is going way too fast because it is him. The boy that offers his friends water before drinking himself, the one with the loud laugh that rings through the halls and makes your heart thump. The guy you’ve been head over heels with. That one.

This is okay, you say to yourself, calm down. His other hand traces along the bottom of your bra as soon as you drop your arms to the side, slipping a finger under just enough to lift it from your skin and you shiver. “You gonna take this off for me?” he asks, rubbing his thigh in between yours more. You can’t answer because you’re dropping your head back against the locker, overwhelmed and unsure still, with the lack of oxygen getting to you all you can do is let out a little whimper. You don’t know a lot about this, you’re sure he does. The hand around your neck drops so he can flip your skirt up, chuckling at your cute panties. You look down in embarrassment and attempt to shove the plaid fabric back down over your thighs but then he lets out a growl, holding it in place. “You wear my name on your body like my personal whore. Don’t play too shy to follow through.”

His long fingers trace over the edges of the panties, where you take deep breaths to calm down. You can’t help but push your waist down on his muscular leg for some friction, looking to the side when he chuckles. “You really are a little slut.” This time you shake your head though, pouting at him.

“I’m not, Kuroo.”

“Liar,” he breathes, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck. “You act like a well-mannered princess but we both know you want to be put in your place.” Not waiting up for a response, he lifts you by your thighs up higher, so he can bury his face into your covered chest, dragging his tongue over the one cup. You can feel the wetness of his tongue seep through the lacy fabric onto your skin. It’s warm and uncomfortable, his breath cooling your skin down instantly. “If you’re not going to take it off, I will,” he gleams, looking up to check your expression again. Ever so slowly he starts pushing the fabric up, not bothering to unhook the piece of clothing. Instead he toys with brushing over your pointed nipples, kissing up your sternum. His eyes flick to yours continuously, like he’s making a show of undressing you. He licks his lips, leaning towards you again.

“Kuroo,” you manage to mumble, resting your one hand on his shoulder to push him away from you. You stumble when you land back on your feet, looking down at the floor. Burning heat covers your entire face, from your cheeks up to your ears. It’s physically painful to be so near him, and the tight grip on your thighs isn’t helping. Your heart is pitter pattering so hard it might break through your ribcage. Despite how much you dreamed about falling in love with him, it wasn’t like this. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I have to lock up the halls and go home.” Your friend’s voice rings through your head then, something about bad guys and the way they prey on kind girls like you, creating cold goosebumps along your arms again. Kuroo Tetsuro can’t be one of those guys, you’ve looked up to him for so long. If he is, what would you even do? “I want to—”

“Don’t lie,” he interrupts, glaring up at your disapproval, “don’t ruin this for me.” Without hesitation he locks his mouth onto your exposed skin, rubbing his knee against your covered center, hard. It sends a spike of heat down your body. You breathe out at the rough laving of his tongue, only soothing after he sucked and bit the tender skin. His one hand reaches up to pull down your panties from under your skirt as soon as you’re closing your eyes, and though you open your mouth to stop him he shuts you up by pinching your thigh sharply between his long fingers. “I told you to stop lying to me. Whatever comes out of that pretty mouth next best be the truth.” He trails his digits up and down a few times, the slightest soothing to your anxiety.

“I… I just don’t—” you swallow, looking away from his eyes to focus on the shine of the lights. They make your eyes burn, but at least you don’t have to undergo his vicious glare this way. It really feels like he despises you for even breathing in his direction, though then why would he be kneeled in front of you. The conflict makes you nauseous, more insecure than you’ve ever been around him and your throat closes up a bit. When his stroking stills, you push through the words anyway. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

He laughs. A warm, bubbly sound against your thigh. “No one’s ever stuffed you with their fingers before?” He looks gleeful, nuzzling your hip in a too-intimate gesture. You’re his fan, but he barely knows anything about you. You slowly shake your head, cheeks warming. His hands start moving again as he shuffles closer between your thighs so his mouth is level with your chest. As he eyes you up and down, he giggles to himself. “Did my slutty fan get herself off on the thought of me? D’you beg for me when coming around your useless, little fingers?” You bite your lip, eyes flicking down at him when he calls your name. “I’m waiting for an answer~”

“I don’t—,” you bite out, flustered and feeling small. He must hear the edge in your voice. With a quick flick of his wrist, he brings his down on your thigh, pinching you hard for good measure. You yelp and grab hold of his head to steady yourself, before quickly pulling your hand away again. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Wanna try again?” he mumbles though, trailing two fingers up and down the crotch of your panties. It feels warm, and really good, but you’re still cold to the touch. Is this really okay? You doubt it. When he starts licking at the edge of your panties you shudder, letting your weight fall into the sturdy locker for support. “Hm, d’you get off to me?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth. You might have touched yourself down there once or twice, but in your imagination that was always long after he’d gotten to know you. In your imagination he was gentle, caring. Nothing like the impatient trailing of his fingers, like he can’t wait to play a game you never agreed to. At his golden gaze, you let the truth spill. “Sometimes,” you breathe, immediately hiding your face in your own shoulder from embarrassment.

“That’s what I thought, dumb girl.” He pushes your panties unceremoniously to the side to collect the slick there, grinning. You didn’t even notice you were getting wet while trying not to anger him. He doesn’t waste time taking advantage of this fact though. He spreads your bottom lips open with his fingers, looking up at you easily. His deep voice feels loud in the pressing silence of the abandoned gym, and you can’t help but wonder how much trouble you’d get in if anyone found you here. “Listen, brat,” he calls, pushing his lips to the top of your thigh to bite the plush skin. You jerk away from him with a cry, but he doesn’t let up.

“I’m gonna push my fingers inside that filthy cunny of yours, stretch out your little hole so you can actually fit something in there. ‘Cause I know you’re a good girl, so you’re probably gonna go braindead if I fuck you like this.” He chuckles at your hitched breathing. You can’t even begin to understand. The person you love more than life itself wants to fuck you? Well, his fingers are still playing down there, slowly pushing into you and they are thick, much thicker than yours. You can’t believe it. Kuroo Tetsuro wants to fuck you, in the boys locker room of the school gym while you should be long on your way out by now. No, you can’t. But you don’t find the words to speak up under his gaze, not wanting to disappoint him. If he notices your mental struggle, he doesn’t show it. “Then you’re gonna help me out like you promised by sucking my cock, right?”

You freeze up. You did say you’d help him, you said that didn’t you… But you didn’t know it would be like this, if you did you would’ve said ‘no’. You curse yourself for saying anything at all, trying to calm your heart as best as you can. You’re feeling so overwhelmed. By his touch, his presence, the situation, the stress put on your poor, frazzled brain. When two of his digits are halfway inside you, you let out a whimper. That’s at least three of your own, you already feel spread so thin. Your fingers find purchase in his soft, raven hair, needing anything to cling to. “Say, ‘Yes, Tetsuro’,” he coos, pressing a row of kisses over the front of your panties, chuckling at the little bow. But the sweet tone is taken away as soon as it comes. “Say it.”

“Y-Yes… Tetsuro.” He hums happily, shoving his fingers inside you in one swift move until his palm is against your center. Your legs almost give out at the feeling. “Ah- ah! S’too much, Kuroo.”

The raven haired man grins at that, curling his digits inside you and pulling them out just as quickly. Like striking a match. You reach up your hand to bite into it, hoping to contain your sounds. Your slick sounds ring through the empty locker room as Kuroo slides them back in and out at a punishing pace. “My dumb, pretty baby really is clueless, huh,” he sighs, long fingers sliding under your knee to place it instead on his shoulder.  It only debases you even more, struggling to stay upright as he brings his face in between your legs. When you whimper in embarrassment, calling his name, he scoffs. “You should let me play this how I want to, since you clearly don’t know anything.”

The curl of his long fingers brushing up against the soft, spongy part of your walls makes your brain numb. His words hurt. You don’t want them to, you wish they didn’t. “My dumb slut,” he hisses, before the harsh lines of his mouth are buried between your thighs. His tongue sweeps out to deliver a long swipe from his pumping fingers to the top of your slit, before swirling around the nub making you tremble. Your belly tenses, coil in the pit of your stomach growing irritatingly tight as he grinds his face against your pussy, obscenely slurping at the wetness. Your fingers twitch in his fluffy hair, attempting to comb through it best you can as your eyes flutter closed.

“Kuroo, ‘m close. Really close.” You can barely raise your voice enough to make it be heard over his motions, though he looks up at the call of his name. “I want to cum,” you say, “please.” He doesn’t still his fingers, but the twitch in his brows seems to indicate disaster, and you quickly bite your lip to think. “C-Can I?”

“D’you think this is about you, Y/N-chan?” He grins at your blown out expression, relishing in the wide eyes and bobbing lip. He uses his thumb to continue putting pressure on your clit, as he tuts his lips. “I’ll decide if or when you cum, because you’re mine. And when I decide to stuff this cunt you best consider yourself lucky, baby, that my cock is breaking open your perfect, little body.”

“Y-yes, but—” you bring out, ignoring the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can’t hold it if his fingers only speed up their devouring of your body, mouth wrapping around you to suck hard.

“Don’t cum yet,” he mumbles, going so hard it’s making your vision sway. His tongue and mouth go harder, despite his order. And with mindless pleas you come around his fingers, shutting your eyes tight at the white splotches. Legs flexing and fingers tightening in his hair. You let your head drop as he works you through the feeling, until you’re pushing him off from overstimulation. Your cheeks feel akin to a forest fire when you open your eyes to his huff, tracing the lines of the hardwood floor under your feet. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you can feel some of the slick drip down your thighs and you instantly burn brighter.

But you don’t get to think about it, because Kuroo is straightening up before you, back to his overwhelming posture above you. He stares at you for a moment, before he leans in. Out of instinct, you lean back, away from his face when he wipes it. The glint in his eyes is a scorch mark on your sanity, his face so close to yours. “Can’t you listen to what I say, or are you just that cockhungry and stupid?” Your head is shaking side to side before you can stop it, hoping that you’ll be released soon. But you said you’d help him and if you don’t, Kuroo might hate you. You don’t think you could handle that. Rejection would’ve been better, after all. “Get on your knees and make it up to me.”

You choke back a sob at the order, looking up at him with big eyes again. You don’t want to, you don’t want to sit on the cold floor of the locker room where teenage boys drag their sweaty bodies— Kuroo seems to soften slightly at your expression, lowering his palm to your crown to pat your head, gently brushing over your temple. “You’re my biggest fan, aren’t you?” The low rumble of his voice right next to your face, his warm body so close and the curl of his pretty lips, everything makes you so docile. Dreamlike. “You’re really helping me so much,” he coos, and before you know it his mouth is on yours. His mouth… is on yours. And he tastes like you, and he’s kissing you. You freeze, not stopping him as he grabs your hands and loops them around his neck, his own picking you up to melt into an embrace.

Like two lovers in a painting, he claims your mouth with his tongue and curls your feeble body into him. So strong, with hard lines of his body that make your heart swell under your ribs. His hand on your thigh, the other on your neck, he kisses you and you think the stars might be exploding around you. He pulls back for a moment enough to breathe, before peppering another few kisses on your agape lips until you could turn black and blue from the bruising weight of your adoration. Kuroo brushes your hair away as you look at him, chest heaving against his each swell of your lungs. He starts peeling his lanky body away from you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought that you were my biggest fan, but if you don’t—”

“No, I am!” you squeak, grabbing onto his jersey to keep his warmth close.

The noirette gives a faint smile, shaking his head. You don’t stop to question him acting so different from before, since your greedy brain clings to every word. “It’s okay,” he mumbles, “I’m used to being taken advantage of by girls.” His eyes shift to the side, lips dropping into a downturn. “They tell me how much they care about me so that I’ll have them, then leave me. I know my teammates are always the favorites anyway. So I understand that you don’t want to do anything more, it’s okay.”

“No Tetsuro, I want to, I swear!” you blurt out, grabbing his large hand despite the jitters in your system. He gives you a slight raise of his eyebrow. “I want to— s-suck you off.”

He chuckles, gaining back some of the brightness to his eyes. “You can’t even say it without stuttering.” The hand on your neck slides to your shoulder, slowly pushing you toward the ground. You hesitate for another moment, before dropping to your knees when the pressure becomes too heavy. When you’re eye level with his shorts, you swallow, bringing up your hands. The fabric is pulled taunt, showing off your effect on him. Ever so slowly, you pull the elastic of the red shorts down, taking his boxers with them in the process. You push them down until his hard cock is freed, curving up towards his belly and twitching with anticipation. Kuroo just bites his lip when you look up at him. “Give it your best shot, baby.”

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, tip glistening with precum. You slowly start moving your hand down his length, but you’re clearly not going fast enough because his hand is back in your hair, yanking you closer to his dick this time. He presses the tip to your lips, and you whimper out as you open your mouth. He’s quick to grab hold of himself to push inside, too quick and stretching you painfully. He’s big and wide and you immediately know you’ll ache once this is done. But as he starts working himself deeper, your eyes fluttering at the feeling and focusing on not choking, he makes pretty grunts that you tell yourself make this worth it. He reaches the back of your throat with plenty to spare, and you bring your hand up to hold yourself on his thigh. It stings.

But he doesn’t stop, even when you whimper around him and push at his leg. “Take it all the way,” he grunts, cocking his head back. The noises you make only make him more vocal, but you’re fighting through the feeling of panic in your chest. Each time he pulls back more saliva messes up your face, keeping Kuroo’s attention on the pretty way you take him. “You think you deserve my attention? My dumb, useless little bitch wants my approval?” He grunts when he hits the back of your throat again. “Because if you can’t even take my cock in your mouth without drooling all over yourself, I don’t think you do deserve it.” He slows his hips when you make a throaty sound, fingers tangled tight in your hair as he pushes in until your nose is pressed to his skin, before letting you back. You gasp for air when you’re finally let up, holding a sob that threatens to crawl out of your throat.

“Kuroo, I can’t,” you bring out, wiping your fingers under your eyes to get rid of any tears, but he doesn’t let go. Your voice is already raspy, grating against your tender throat.

“Yes you can, you’re doing well.” He pushes his cock back to your lips and though you’re more prepared for it this time you’re still shocked by how big he feels. Spit seeps out along the edges of your mouth, tongue being pushed down and your lungs struggling. He moves your head up and down his cock over and over, barely leaving you enough time to take a couple deep breaths. He slowly starts fucking your face when the tears spill over your cheeks and clump your lashes, hissing when you gag on him. “That’s how you suck a cock, idiot. Can’t do anything right without my help, can you?” His words just make you cry more. He bruises your throat until you can’t take any more, pulling out of his grip despite the pain and falling back onto your butt.

“Kuroo,” you cry out, losing control over your own tears. Your voice sounds double, like it’s been split in two. “I don’t like this.” A little squeak falls from your lips, airways painful and ragged. “I want—,” this time you can’t hold back the sob, “I want you to be nice to me.” You sound so pitiful, even to your own ears. You’re crying. But the man you’ve looked up to for so long is calling you all these names, making you feel so dumb. Are you really that dumb for liking him, supporting him, being his fan? “I don’t wanna do any more.” Tears are flowing, wet and warm down your cheeks and neck. Stop, stop crying. You reach a hand up to smear them away, but in their place new ones still come. “Please, I wanna go home.”

“Shh, shhhh,” he hushes, petting the top of your head like you’re a well-behaving pup, and you hate how you lean into it. The idea of yourself makes you sick to your stomach. Why are you even letting him walk all over you like this? Is this really the amount of self respect you have? Kuroo peers down at you between his legs. “You’re doing so well for me. You’re the best fan I could ask for. I’m sure you can take a bit more.”

“No,” you squeak when he reaches for your face again, “it hurts and I don’t like it.”

Kuroo stills. Regards you with a long, drawn-out breath, before humming in what you pray is understanding. “Alright,” he helps you up from the floor, steadying you in his arms and moving you both to one of the benches instead. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my number one fan, would I?” He sits down on the bench first, pulling you to sit on his thighs facing him. You wipe the mess of tears and saliva away as best you can, watching as Kuroo slides you closer to him without a care in the world. And you want to be mad, you want to push off him and do anything other than sit here and take it, but you can’t. You can’t, because you’re weak. You can’t, because you’re an idiot fangirl, and he’s been everything you’ve wanted since you were thirteen.

“Push your legs together,” he orders, squishing your thighs and reaching down to slip his cock in between them. He fucks your legs with the last of his restraint, pace from fast to punishing, kneading the doughy expanse between his fingers and pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You can feel the warmth of his breath, the shudder down his spine and the tensing of his legs below you, but you don’t process it. Everything feels far away. And then he calls out your name, and cums on your thighs, spilling white all over your panties and skin. He kisses your neck, and your lips after that. And you just stare at the tiles of the boys room showers before he slides you off of him.

Your legs tremble. He quickly uses a towel to clean himself up before tucking himself back in, and smiles down at you. “Thank you so much, baby, that was perfect.” He leans down to press a kiss to your temple as he hands you the towel. “Clean up?” The fluffy towel with the red cat embroidered on it is stained with the cum you clean off yourself, as tears roll down your face. You loved him so much, but now you just hate him. Embarrassed, hurt, useless. Kuroo’s bright face as he talks is another slap in yours. “Lighten up, I’ll lock up the gym for you, okay?” He smiles when you lift your eyes to his figure in the doorway, your crumpled skirt bunched in your hand. “And don’t even worry about it, I’ll walk you home. It’s the least I could do for my fan.”

It is the least he could do.

You nod and put up your most convincing smile.

///

thank you so so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed. did this have to be so long? probably not. did i make it that long anyway? yes. mean kuroo will live rent free in my brain for the coming six months.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the prompt fill, number 3 for Indruck seems pretty fitting!

Here you go! Prompt 3 was “sweet” , Indrid’s design is based on a barracuda and I went with SFW on this one.

“Duck, can you do me a favor when you lock up?” Leo dumps orange taffy into a glass jar. 

“Sure, what d’you need?”

“Got some locks for the garbage cans; put ‘em on after you set the alarm out back. Somethin’s been getting into our trash every damn night for the last week. It makes a god-awful mess and I’m worried we’re gonna get a fine for littering.”

Duck nods, turns his attention back to the flock of tourists approaching the window. The afternoon is swallowed up in a pit of sugar-sticky air and blasts of welcome cold from the freezer. There are worse places for a summer job than Tarkesian’s Sweets--he’s right by the water, can watch the wildlife on his lunch break, and Leo is low-maintenance boss--but after eight hours on his feet getting splashed with soda or burned on the popcorn machine, he’s ready to head home. The trash locks have other ideas.

It takes ten minutes of cursing and fumbling to get the first bin secured. He doesn’t even know how the damn things are getting overturned; they seem too heavy for a raccoon or seagull to knock to the ground. 

A tiny splash behind him, probably a fish jumping. 

Then a crooked, shiny pole slowly enters his periphery. In dim yellow of the streetlight, he can tell the end of it is curved. It pokes inelegantly at the wall, then the locked can, then the wall once again, and then Duck’s leg.

The hook pulls back, pauses, then pokes him again.

“The fuck?” He grabs it when it goes for another jab, pulls up only for his arms to be wrenched towards the water. Not to be outdone, he tugs harder. His opponent retaliates with enough force that he almost tumbles off the pier. He growls, braces his foot on the railing, and hauls the hook and its owner up onto worn wood with him. 

It’s a guy about his age, angular face framed by a mess of silver hair and pierced ears. Figures it’s some sort of artsy punk swimming around poking people in the leg. That explains why he’s shirtless too. 

It does not, however, explain why he has a tail. 

“Rude.” The guy sits up on his hands, silver and black tail flicking droplets of saltwater everywhere, “I don’t go around stopping you from eating.”

“Look man, I just wanted you to stop jabbin me and knockin the trash over.” Maybe if he doesn’t mention the tail it will go away. 

“How else am I supposed to get at those odd, pulpy tubs full of ‘cookies and cream’ or ‘bubblegum’?”

“The fuck--wait, you were tryin’ to get the ice cream containers out of the trash?”

“Yes? I also want more of the caramel apples” he pronounces the last word “applees” causing Duck to giggle in spite of himself. 

“Look, I have to piece words together from the signs on your store. And you obviously know what I meant or you would not be laughing, so do you have any in the cans or not?”

“Nope” Duck gets his laughter under control, “sold out of caramel apples today.” 

“Drat” the visitor starts scooting across the pier towards the unlocked trashcan, “I’ll see what else I can find.”

“Wait don’t fuckin knock that over, Leo’ll be pissed at me if he comes back to a mess, and I don’t feel like pickin up trash because you want a snack!”

“But I’m starving!” The merman, because at this point there’s no way he can deny that’s what’s been rooting through the garbage, whacks at Duck with his tail.

“I know for a damn fact there’s food down there.” He points at the bay. 

“Only if you can catch it, and only if it is not in another mer’s territory. Which much of this area is; I am new here, young, and thus have no claim to any patch of sea.”

“You ain’t got any family?” Something pings in his chest. It’s the part of his heart that made him pick out the runt of litter when his mom let him get a cat on his thirteenth birthday, that means he always splits his lunch with Juno because she’s running track and needs it more than he does, that makes him tear up when he thinks about everything a sapling has to survive to become a tree.

“Merfolk leave home at sixteen.” The merman shrugs.

Duck sighs, grabbing his keys, “If I bring you somethin to eat, will you leave the trash alone?”

“Yes.” 

He shuts off the alarm, grabs a cone and fills it with bright blue ice cream. The merman is back in the water when he returns, arms resting on the pier.

“Oooh, my favorite!” He takes the ice cream, biting huge chunks out of it as Duck re-arms the door. 

Crunch

“...The container is edible!!”

He sits next to the merman’s arms, “Guess you wouldn’t have had an ice cream cone before, huh.”

“No, but it is lovely. I wish humans threw these away more often.” He polishes off the treat, licks his fingers clean with moans Duck hears in his dreams later, and smiles, “thank you for the meal. Goodnight.” 

There’s a final flash of silvery tail, and then Duck’s alone in the breezy night air.

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

“That’s a sandwich, correct?”

“AHfuck” Duck knocks over his water bottle in surprise. He’s eating behind the candy store like usual and not expecting an aquatic dining companion. 

“Apologies. I have seen you eating here before and thought you may like some company.” He sets a sea urchin on the ground and proceeds to bang on it with a rock. 

“Found some lunch?”

“I followed some otters; I was mainly trying to draw them, but they led me to a kelp bed no one else was in.”

“...Wait how do you draw underwater?”

“Let me finish cracking this open and I will show you.”

Duck spends the rest of his lunch break on his belly, the merman showing him a sketchbook and enchanted pen that conjures whatever colors the illustrator envisions. The mer is genuinely excited to talk to him. He assumes the nuzzling is due to him smelling like cotton candy; he doesn’t mind, the mer’s skin is cool and he makes cute little noises whenever he touches Duck. 

Before the stands, Duck asks, “You got a name?”

“Indrid.”

“Duck.” 

Indrid’s eyes flick to the nearby estuary.

“Yeah, like the bird. It’s a nickname.”

“I like it.” Indrid smiles, dives, and flaps his tail once in farewell.

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

“Cutting school again?” Indrid’s voice bubbles up by his feet. 

“Yep.” Duck watches the spring clouds roll by from his favorite spot on the beach. It’s secluded and far from town, meaning no one will give him shit for skipping class and nobody will see Indrid.

He worked at Leo’s until this past summer, only quitting at the start of his senior year of high school when Indrid pointed out that much of Kepler was surrounded by water and that, if Duck wanted to see him, he did not have to keep working at the candy store in order to do so. 

“Not that I mind the free food.” Indrid winks. 

“Just gonna bring you bulk ice cream from Safeway; no way am I missin out on that chirpin you do when you eat it.”

Duck slides the grocery bag towards the surf, “not like KCC is gonna rescind my offer. Ain’t a fuckin Ivy League or some shit.”

“And you will be happy there?”

“Yeah. They got a decent work-study program with the park, so I can still get a job as a ranger if I want to.”

“Oh. Good.” 

Indrid sounds sad, and Duck sits up on his elbows. His friend’s torso is fully on land, his tail fidgeting in the foam. 

“What’s up?

“I...Barclay told me his human is going to a school further inland, and I know there are many places you could got to learn. You...you did not choose to stay in Kepler because you feel the need to look after me, did you?”

“Course not.” Duck is sitting up now, aching to stroke Indrid’s hair, “I mean, I’m glad we’re still gonna be able to see each other, and I really hopin I can get a room near the beach so it’s easy to come talk. But this is the right choice for me; if I really want to, I can transfer to a different school in a few years, and I can learn a lot here without takin on a shit-ton of debt. Besides, ain’t like I think you’re helpless; I love bringin you stuff and rubbin your fin when it’s sore, but that’s because you’re my friend. Don’t think you’re helpless. I never have.”

“Not even when I was stealing trash?”

“Thought you were a fuckin nuisance, not helpless.” He playfully nudges his shoulder with his toes. 

Indrid turns his head and nips his calf, “How’s that for a nuisance?”

“Not much, felt kinda nice. Uh, I mean, uh, fuck, so, where’d that worry about my stayin come from?”

The mer crawls and wiggles until they’re shoulder to shoulder, “I think my future sight is finally developing; my fathers arrived around the time he turned eighteen, so it makes sense mine would arrive at a similar point. The trouble is, I am having a hard time telling the futures from my own imaginings and worries.”

“That fuckin sucks.”

“I’ll manage. All seers struggle at the beginning. I just wish I was quicker at learning whether certain timelines are really more likely or if they are just ones that I want to be likely.”

“Like what?”

Indrid glances at him, opens his mouth, then shuts it and faces the sea.

Duck smirks, “‘Drid, there somethin you wanna ask me?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I, I just don’t want to pressure youOOOHhhh that’s not fair” he flops on his back with a groan as Duck scritches his upper tail, “you know I’ll do anything when you touch me like this.”

“Damn right I do. And what I want is for you to tell me the truth.”

Indrid whines, covers his face with his hands.

“Do it or I’ll stop.”

“Rude” Indrid lowers his hands enough that his red eyes peer over the top, “is that any way to treat a mer who wants to kiss you?”

Duck gives his answer by pouncing on his friend, pinning narrow shoulders into the sand as he devours his mouth in kisses. 

“You like that treatment better?”

“Goodness, yes.” Indrid pulls him back down, slipping his tongue between his lips and nibbling his neck when he finally stops to breathe. Then his hand flails sideways, grabbing the plastic bag and chucking it further up the beach.

“The, the tide is coming in and I, ah, foresee us working up quite the appetite.” He tugs Duck’s collar down with his teeth, nuzzling and licking across his skin with little hums of pleasure, “so I want to save those for afterwards. Who knows” he grins, “maybe we’ll need energy for round two as well.”

Duck cups his cheek, inhales the scent of the sea and the sight of his future, “I like the way you think, sweet thing.”

[danny-chase]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Stephanie Brown Characters: Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson (mentioned), Tim Drake (mentioned), Damian Wayne (Mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, 2009 Batfam vibes, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, talks about the batgirl mantle, Cass comes home to Gotham, technically she's Cassandra Wayne in this, but idk if people use that tag, Girl Talks, possibly romantic, no beta we die like Cass, POV Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown centric, mentions Gates of Gotham, you don't need to read it though, Cass comes home from Hong Kong, sorry Bruce is dead folks, takes place in Dick!Bats era, sliding around in socks, a wee bit of fluff, Cassandra Cain gets a hug, Stephanie Brown Gets a Hug, because i think they should hug, romance or not, late night conversation between besties Summary:

Cass has a surprise visitor after returning home from Hong Kong. She hasn't been in Gotham long, a lot's changed, but there are still people here she's happy to see.

Cass glided through the halls of the penthouse; the floors were perfect for sliding around in her socks. Though, ‘halls’ was being generous, she supposed. It was large, the rooms were spacious, but there were only two hallways. So much smaller than the manor. Less rooms, though more people, and plenty of space to fit them all.

 She could hear the chatter from the kitchen. The boys had decided to play a board game before she’d gotten back for the night. Dick wanted her to join in for the next round, but she found those games a little boring, and she wouldn’t fall for Tim’s puppy dog eyes tonight. But… she was tempted. It was a collaborative game, they’d explained. You don’t fight each other, you work together. That part, she liked.

She brushed past Tim’s guest room, which was slowly becoming more permanent. The door was cracked open, and she peeked inside. Neat and tidy, with trinkets lining his desk and shelves. Tim had changed a lot; his room was never this clean before. On a hunch she poked her head around the door. Behind it sat a mound of dirty clothes, just next to the bathroom door. Smiling to herself, she noted the mess of products on the sink. He’d changed, but not all the way.

 Damian’s door, she found closed all the way. Tim said he liked privacy, so she moved on. Dick’s door was wide open. The room was empty, aside from a messy bed. Hers was the same.

 At least she thought her room was empty.

 As she approached, she heard something moving inside, or someone. Whoever it was, was light on their feet, not very large, in the range of 120-150 pounds, and a bit anxious. The door was closed. She thought for a moment, and swiftly threw the door open, without making a sound.

 A blond girl in jeans and a green sweater stared out the window at the night sky.

 “Stephanie?” She recognized. The girl jumped and swiveled around.

 “Cass?” A joyous grin broke out across her face, though her shoulders stayed tense and anxious. They quickly strode toward each other and met in the middle of the room. Steph’s hands twitched, reaching up, as if asking for-

 Cass buried Steph in a hug at the realization. Steph laughed, giggling at her enthusiasm, and squeezed her back tightly. “I missed you.” They said at the same time. Steph laughed again in delight.

 They parted, and Steph sat on the edge of the bed, Cass following suit. She still looked a bit nervous but radiated happiness as well. They sat there, staring at each other for a moment. Cass smiled, also a bit anxiously, but eagerly, she hadn’t seen her oldest friend in forever.

 “Are you back for good?” Steph broke the silence. Cass nodded, she’d decided, after the gates of Gotham case, to stay. The family had fallen apart after Bruce had died, but she was ready to give it another shot, and so far, things were going well. Board games, movie nights. ‘Team bonding’, Dick called it. It had only been a week, but she’d gotten a turn to pick already. Rooftop tag. It was fun.

 “Things are good.” She replied. Damian was starting to trust her, and Dick and Tim were happy. And well, she was happy too. She loved having her own city, but it’d been lonely. Spending time with people was exhausting, but her family made it easier somehow.

 “That’s good.” Steph replied. Not a lie, but she still looked anxious. A thought flashed through her mind.

 “You’re not happy I’m home?” She asked quickly, her heart sinking at the notion. Steph’s eyes widened in surprise.  

 “What? No! Cass, I’m so happy you came back.” Not a lie. Cass sighed in relief, she didn’t want anyone to be upset she was back.

 “Then why are you nervous?” Steph’s hands were fidgeting slightly, hadn’t stopped since they’d met.

 “Huh, I’m not- Okay never mind.” Her shoulders dropped sheepishly. “I can’t lie to you, can I?”

 “Nope.” Cass popped the p, just like Steph used to whenever they talked before. No one could lie to her. Well. Almost no one.

 “Okay but… promise you won’t be mad.” She looked serious. Cass nodded slowly, watching as Steph pulled a box off the corner of the bed and carefully opened the lid. Her old Batgirl costume was inside.

 “Why would I get mad over that?” She gave the suit to Steph after all, she had her Black Bat suit now.

 “You let me borrow it and I ruined it!” Steph’s voice was guilty. Cass looked at the costume again. Bullet holes and tears marked it.

 “Are you okay?” Cass asked, those were a lot of holes.

 “Ugh, none of us deserve you.” Grateful. For what? Cass tilted her head to show the confusion. “I thought you would be mad because you can’t use it anymore. I thought you would want it back.” Cass shrugged.

 “I have a new suit now.” She assessed. She didn’t really care what she wore. Besides, if she wanted another Batgirl costume, Alfred could make one.

 “Don’t you… want to be Batgirl again?” Steph sounded concerned, but Cass wasn’t sure why.

 “I’m always Batgirl.” Cass stated. She thought for a moment. “Like Tim is still Robin.” It didn’t matter what they called each other; they were still them. “And you’re always a Spoil-sport.” She grinned smugly at the pun. Steph rolled her eyes, but she was amused.

 “Well, you can be Batgirl if you want. I kind of miss eggplant.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and the corners of her lips twitched up into a smile.

 “It’s a good color on you.” Cass agreed.

 “How about, we both be Batgirl, and we can switch costumes, and no one will know who’s coming.” Stephanie grinned in excitement. Cass grinned too. It sounded fun.

 “Deal.” She flopped back on her bed. Steph followed suit. “How was Gotham?”

 “It’s been wild. It’s different, you know.” Cass hummed in agreement. “I’m in college now, that’s going well. My mom’s working as a nurse. I mean, you’re right, things are good. It’s just… different.”

 “Batman and Robin.” Cass noted. Steph sighed.

 “Yeah, I mean it sucks Bruce died, but Dick’s doing great. And Damian’s coming around.” Steph shifted, turning to face her. “I’m sorry he died, I know he just adopted you, that must suck.” Cass took a deep breath, watching sympathy pour out of Steph’s baby blue eyes. It did suck. Her chest panged in regret, wishing they’d had more time together. But she didn’t want to focus on the past.

 “Yes.” She thought for a moment. “I still don’t understand.” She confessed. Butterflies swirled in her stomach, she didn’t want to make Steph upset, but she needed to know. “Why did you leave?” It had hurt, felt like her world was ending. It had hurt Tim too, and Bruce. Steph grimaced, she was clearly uncomfortable, rolling back, she faced the ceiling once more.

 “I was mad at first. I didn’t really choose to go.” She admitted. Cass understood, she’d been made to do things she hadn’t wanted to do before. It sucked. “But it was good too. It took time to heal.” She pointed at her head. “Up here too.”

 “You hit your head?” Cass had been shot in the head once. Wasn’t fun.

 “No like. I needed to think things out. Get in the right headspace.” She shook her head, not really understanding.

 “Why’d you go to Hong Kong?” Steph asked. She thought for a moment.

 “It hurt. To be around people.” She wasn’t sure how to describe it. She couldn’t stay in the manor. It was painful to be in the Cave. She never bled, but her chest had always ached, and something felt stuck in her throat. So, she left. And being alone hurt too, but in a different way. Steph looked at her sympathetically.

 “That’s why I stayed, thinking about coming back hurt. I was scared, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just… didn’t know what to do.” Groaning, she rolled over again. “It’s a mess.” Regretful. But a little hopeful. “Can we… still be friends?” The hope made her heart flutter.

 “Yep.” She agreed. Steph smiled, warmly, like the sun.

 “Thanks Cassie.” She didn’t really understand what she was being thanked for, but as the nickname rolled off Stephanie’s tongue, she felt more at home than she had in years. They lay still, enjoying each other’s company for a while longer.

 Eventually, Steph sat up, hopping off the bed. “Alright, let’s go do something fun kay? How bout we go kick the guys’ asses at Just Dance.”

 “Wait.” Cass walked over to her suitcase. “I got you something.” She pulled out a box. She’d collected things, from everywhere she visited. Picked up things that reminded her of family. She hadn’t really planned on giving them away, but now she had the real people, she didn’t need them anymore. She pulled out a purple ‘Lucky Cat’.

 “Oh my gosh! I love it!” Steph cradled it carefully in her hands. “Cass this is so sweet, I love it.” Cass beamed; she liked it too. And she made Steph happy with it, maybe it really was lucky. Steph smiled wider, clasping her hand and dragging her out through the hall, running so she could slide behind her on the perfectly slippery floors.

 And so, with whatever luck the cat could grant them, they were on their way to kicking butt at Just Dance. As the night wore on, laughs grew louder, and Cass was reminded again, how things had changed, but how change wasn’t always bad. The penthouse wasn’t as big as the Manor, and Gotham wasn’t as big as Hong Kong, but with her family, somehow her life seemed larger, and fuller again.

 Things could have turned out better, but they could have been worse too. And they would get better. Much better, as long as they all stuck together. There would be more difficult conversations to be had, but it was reassuring, knowing that after all they’d been through, she still had her best friend by her side.

[evilwerewolves2]

Child’s Play Ch.2

~Making headlines~

At first everything was completely fine. You Tendou and Ushijima all went back more or less to how things were. That is until the mafia family Tendou was a part of made headlines. You and Iji watched the news together on that night. Ten was supposed to be there and watch a movie with you two and you hadn't received so much as a text explaining why he wasn't there yet. Iji got up to make popcorn and some instant ramen while you waited on Ten. He hadn't realized you switched the channel.

"Mixed feelings tonight as several bodies were found" ~Male News Reporter

"Why mixed feelings that's horrible" ~Female News Reporter

"Tonight several bodies were found most have been identified as members of the group known as the Jade Dragons" ~Male News Reporter

The mention of the name "Jade Dragons" was more than enough to catch Iji's attention.

"There has been one unidentifiable body found that has yet to be claimed but eye witnesses say that the groups leader Takashi Utsui was at the hotel when it was brutally attacked by the enemy Mafia of the Dragons the Ruby Raijū  also known by the name of Red Lightning while Utsui was a major donator to most all charities in our area nobody has seen or heard from Utsui since the raid this morning " ~Male News Reporter

"Now to our anonymous reporter who is on the scene right this second. How's it looking over there? " ~Male News Reporter

"Word on the street is that Red Lightning specifically raided the building where many died to get Utsui. God that is the last time I'm going to say that name." ~Anonymous Reporter

"Why is that?" ~Male News Reporter

"Word on the street is that the deceased Mafioso has a son who is known to be more terrifying than his father. He is also known for excessive revenge and it is believed that anyone who utters his name will likely meet a much worse fate than his father..." ~Anonymous Reporter

You've never been so terrified as you turn of the TV to face Ushijima. His eyes fixed on the TV eyes seething with rage and grief. He looks at you and seems to get more upset by the fear he can see in your eyes. You want to say it but don't want to meet your end the way the reporter said but you knew. Utsui is his fathers name.

~Blinded~

completely frozen in fear you kept eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. He spoke first.

"What." ~Ushijima

you instantly looked at the floor as you heard his footsteps approaching you on the couch. With each step he took your life seemed to flash before your eyes. he took a step in front of you and grabbed your face to make you look at him.

"What." ~Ushijima

you took a rushed breath to counter the fear in your heart but you choked and couldn't say anything.

"Why are you looking at me like that Y/N." ~Ushijima boomed

as you caught your breath you stammered.

"N.n..no.no reason s.s...ssorryy Us.ush...ushijima"

"Why so formal Y/N what happened to 'Iji'." ~Ushijima

Ushijima said those words looking into your soul getting so aggravated at the fear he saw swelling up inside his childhood best friend. The fear he knew was stemming from him. Hearing you say his full last name instead of the nickname you gave him as a kid was only confirmation, You knew. you knew he was now the leader of the dragons. You knew he was the one the anonymous reporter was talking about. 'anonymous reporter'

"tch I'll have his fucking head talking about me like that" ~Ushijima in his mind

Ushijima had become lost in thought, blinded by rage and the only thing that brought him out of it was your choking and pleading. in between breaths you managed to shout out.

"Please *Chokes* P..lease d.don't kill me I'm sorry!" ~Y/N

kill you? Why would he kill you? As he looked at you confused he realized his hand was crushing your throat. Your face completely purple as he let go of you. Tossing you to the floor by accident.

"Fuck. FUCK. Please. Please don't be scared of me. FUCK." ~Ushijima

you had just watched him hit himself in the head as he walked into the bathroom. You didn't know why but the only thought in your mind was "RUN" despite the only other thought you could come across in your mind you did run even if you thought it could make things worse.

~Cat and Mouse~

"FUCK!!" ~Ushijima

so many thoughts raced through Ushijima's head. Maybe I can convince her I'm not dangerous. No I almost choked her out she'd never believe that. You heard glass shatter and became so terrified that any doubt about what you were doing had completely vanished you grabbed your bag you had full of clothes money and some snacks. You'd lived on the street once before you could do it again. Fuck what if she runs from me. No no. She'd never run. Would she? as he headed back towards the door you had made your rushed escape out of your apartment and was three blocks down. Its a miracle what adrenaline can do. In your hurry you had left the door open.

"Please. Please tell me you didn't." ~Ushijima

his fists made contact with the kitchen counter his frustration only fueling his rage at this point. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe YOU. YOU RAN FROM HIM?!?! HE PAYED YOUR DEBT, HE SAVED YOUR LIFE, YOU OWED HIM! You owed him. You were still in debt to him by well over 900k 'credits'. He could make his underdogs find you. He could find you. In his rage he seemed to forget his pull with both the dragons and his physical body in general. If. No when he figures out  where you went he could easily catch you. He hadn't played volleyball since highschool but he was still very physically fit. You could never outrun him. He didn't know why but out of everything that had happened on that night with him finding out about his father among other things that had been bothering him in school the worst thing was you running. Why did you run. You told him you'd never leave again. You kissed him on the first day you came back. Why did you run?

He rushed out of your house slamming the door. He saw the hobo you often gave food and money and asked him a question.

"Where'd she go. I know you saw her" ~Ushijima

"I forgot maybe I could be persuaded to remember though" ~Hobo

he hated using his name as leverage but he HAD to. He NEEDED to find you

"Ushijima ring any bells? Here's your damn persuasion how about you don't end up the next one on the news." ~Ushijima

The hobo froze in fear for a second. It reminded Ushijima of the look you gave him. He HATED that look.

"She ran towards the college said she needed something. I had no idea you were." ~Hobo

Ushijima shot a terrifying glance at the hobo and said sharply.

"Thanks" ~Ushijima

and with that took off running towards the school. He knew you weren't dumb enough to take the obvious route when running away. so he took the alleys and caught a glimpse of you about a mile out. "How'd you get so far so quickly?!" he thought to himself "It's only been ten minutes" as he checked the clock he realized it'd been two whole hours since he noticed the door was hastily left open. "What the fuck" why did he see someone touching you.

It's been two hours, you're pretty far away from Ushijima when you run into Tendou.

"Hey bestie" ~Tendou

he noticed your rising fear as you looked around.

"What you looking for" ~Tendou keeping direct eye contact

"My, My bag?" ~Y/N

Tendou chuckled but not in a fun loving way in a more sinister way you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"You sure are a bad liar Y/N" ~Tendou smirked eerily

trying desperately to change the subject you spoke

"Where were you Ten we were supposed to watch a movie together" ~Y/N

He looked you up and down in an almost predatorial way

"Oh, I doubt Iji would want to see me right now, you saw the news. Is that who you're running from? Iji?" ~Tendou said running his hands through your hair.

The mortified look on your face said everything he needed to know. You were running from him. His attention turned to the obvious purplish black marks on your neck with what seemed to be scabs shaped like human fingernails. he delicately touched your neck as he said.

"Damn I never would have thought he would hurt you like this. He is madly in love with you Ya know? *Chuckles* He lost his temper bad what did you say? What did you do?"

"I, I don't know. I don't know Ten" ~Y/N

you spoke as your voice began to choke up and crack tears that had been forming as you spoke now began streaming down your cheeks.

"What did I do Ten?!?" ~Y/N

Fuck he made you cry? Jesus if Iji saw her like this right now I'd be more of a dead man than I already am. Tendou was mortified as he looked down into the football fields (soccer) and he was met with Jade eyes and hair rushing towards the both of you. You were collapsed on the floor breaking down holding Tendou's hand.

"I am so Fucking dead, Come on now Y/N lets get the FUCK outa here kay?" ~Tendou

You noticed some members of Red Lightning rushing towards Ten and you thought you heard fear in Ten's voice. He rushed you into a car and took off towards the Red district. Ushijima told you never to go there because you weren't protected. While the school was a mid ground having both heirs of the two major rival families go to the same school definitely made it a war zone. If you'd been paying attention you would have noticed it sooner but all of the fights were about someone over stepping territory. How had you never noticed that Ten was THE Lightning Dragon and Iji was THE Jaded dragon?!? YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS WERE MAFIA LEADERS!?

Ushijima had only caught a glimpse of you his attention fixed on Tendou as he shouted.

"Fucked this one up too huh?" ~Tendou

[eleven-times-lively]

I’ve Always Been There

Hi, if you’re talking requests I would like to request a Harry x reader where he’s crushing super hard on a very popular girl above his year and his friends tease him about it. Thank you!

I love!! I wasn’t sure if you wanted the reader to be one of his friends or the popular girl, so I interpreted/changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind. Let me know!

Summary: Harry was too busy pining after an older student to notice that you’d always been there Word Count: 1383 Note: I couldn’t seem to write this week...oops. Enjoy!💕

“Oi! Potter! Over here, mate!” Ron called from within the pitched Weasley tent. It was the quidditch world cup, and the entire Weasley family, plus a few friends, were in attendance. “What were you looking at?”

“Oh I bet it was Matilda…” Fred exclaimed, sauntering by with a stack of team apparel.

“Matilda?” you questioned, stopping Fred in his tracks.

“Oh, just this sixth year who Harry’s been smitten with.” Fred’s comment earned a spread of low ‘ooohhs’ from the group. Trying to mask your disappointment, you joined in.

“Think she’s a little old for you, Har,” you joked as you followed Fred outside.

***

School had started a few weeks ago, and Harry had walked into the dining hall for breakfast, a bit more flustered than normal. Harry was a chaotic being - having gotten used to waking up just a minute too late and having to rush himself into robes and to breakfast - thus he always entered the hall in a hurricane of energy. However today he was slower in his way. Still energetic, yes, but slow and concentrated, as if asked a life-changing question at the doors. His cheeks donned a light blush and his mouth crept up in the corners. 

“What’s up with you?” you questioned, pointing your melon-adorned fork at the boy.

“I-”, but before he had a chance to answer Hermione cut in.

“By the looks of him he probably saw Miss Matilda Fey in the hallway.” 

“Ooohh Harry! A little morning treat before breakfast!” Ron exclaimed through his mouth of toast and pumpkin juice.

“Think about how you sound, Weasley…” you chided before turning back to Harry, “glad to see something’s got you all fired up. Haven’t seen you this cheeky since the topless painting in the staircases blew you a kiss.” The table cracked up laughing while Harry flushed a deep, embarrassed red, giving you a soft kick on the leg.

“So tell us about her, Harry” Hermione perked, cocking an eyebrow at the boy. She’d made a mistake in asking.

“Oh! So she’s a sixth year Ravenclaw. Pureblood and popular. She was the one that hexed the Slytherin common room door last year so they all got zapped when they touched the door handle. Chaser in quidditch, and wow is she good at it. Her favorite flowers are petunias, I always see her out in the back fields near the owlery where the wildflowers grow. She has a pet tabby cat and, wow you’ll never believe this, she can cast a full patronus! A horse! How amazing is that! Oh! And her mom is an animagus! I mean, not to sound rash, but I think we may be soulmates.” Harry was out of breath from speaking so fast. He just stopped, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide staring at the three of you. “Well? What do you think? Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very… interesting.” Hermione quickly added as to not upset Harry as you all got up from the breakfast table.

***

Later at quidditch practice it was Gryffindor’s turn to host a practice match against Ravenclaw. The practice matches were a rarity, as the students could never quite control themselves, forgetting it’s only practice. It was your first year as a chaser for the team, and you were very good at it, but you’d never played a match before. Not only that, but Matilda would be your direct opposition. She was all smiles and giggles with her teammates, exchanging high-fives and long practiced and kept secret handshakes as the brooms were raised. You only stared, as if into her soul to find the very bit that Harry found magnetic. You were so engrossed that you hadn’t heard Harry call over your shoulder.

“Y/n!!”

“Hmm? Oh! Harry! Good luck, mate!” You flashed a warm smile at the boy.

“You too, dear. First match! You’ll kill it!”

You weren’t sure if it was the nickname or the very comment that made you want to melt more.

“Hi Matilda!” Harry called across the pitch at the girl.

“Harry there is no way she could have--” you started when she responded.

“Harry! Good luck, mate… but not too much!” She waved at the boy before twirling a strand of her short, perfectly curled platinum hair. She let out an airy giggle before returning to the confused glances from teammates.

“Wait… you actually know her?”

“Oh… a bit I suppose. Isn’t my first year in quidditch.”

You gave a knowing, albeit heavy, nod as the balls were released into the air and the whistle was blown. Ignoring the quaffle, you went straight for Matilda. Whizzing past at near top speed, you gave her a good nudge with her elbow, and doubled back with a swift push of your foot on the other side.

“Y/n!” she exclaimed, rather angrily, “the bloody ball isn’t even near us! Watch out!”

You immediately regretted your actions, but wouldn’t give up so easily.  If you couldn’t take her out, you could at least help to win the game.

You played the hardest you ever had. Swerving and dashing, scoring six goals in total before Harry caught the snitch. The whistle was blown, but the brooms weren’t lowered. An older Gryffindor was still set on launching the bludger one last time, seeking revenge on the Ravenclaw who had stolen a goal from you earlier in the game. However, his plan didn’t quite work out. Rather than hitting the Ravenclaw keeper, the bludger hit Matilda square in the stomach, and she came tumbling down towards the pitch floor. 

“Matilda!” Harry and the entire Ravenclaw team screamed at once, all of the brooms lowering. 

The Ravenclaw team surrounded Matilda, and Harry tried to join the group.

“Harry! Wait up!” you hollered, running after him.

“Y/n? Is it important? Matilda is hurt!”

“No I know, and her team is there and Pomfrey just arrived, she’ll be okay. And our beater is now suspended. Can we talk?”

“Yeah, but later…” he trailed off, still trying to head for Matilda. 

“Harry!” you exclaimed a bit too loudly as you grabbed his arm a bit too hard.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed right back in the same manner, “What’s gotten into you? I like her, and I need to be there right now if I want to show her I care!”

“For Merlin’s sake, Harry, she bloody knows!”

“Pardon?”

“She’s a gorgeous, brilliant, popular sixth year. It’s not going to happen!”

The pitch had cleared out except for the two of you, and Harry looked genuinely hurt.

“How could you say that?”

“Because I know what it looks like when someone likes you. To have reciprocated feelings, or at least to have someone liking you for once. It’s not hard to spot from an outside view, and I don’t see it.” You both took a seat in the grass.

“And how do you suppose you know all this?” “Cause I’m here right now watching it. And I’ve always been there, Harry. Through every high and low moment these past four years, we’ve been together. It hurts, knowing I’m here unconditionally, then you go off and pour your heart into an older girl who wouldn’t even know you if it weren’t for quidditch.”

“Y/n…”

“No, I know it’s crazy, I do, I’m absolutely looney, but I had to say that before it was improper… more than it already is.”

“Bloody hell, y/n I like you too.”

“Sorry, pardon?”

“On and off since the moment I laid eyes on you in the great hall during sorting. I remember feeling so excited when you were sorted Gryffindor. Those same feelings when you aced exams, cast your first patronus, and finally made the team. I’ve always been there for you, even if you didn’t notice. I gave up the end of last year cause I figured it was never going to happen.”

“Harry…”

“Y/n…” 

There was nothing left to do but embrace, everything unspoken suddenly understood. 

***

The next morning, you were able to walk into the dining hall hand-in-hand.

“In Merlin’s name what is this?” Ron questioned, not even hiding his surprise.

“Something that’s been waiting to happen for a long time.” Hermione added, a warm smile spreading between the group as you and Harry sat down - this time united as a couple.

[javier-djarin]

Feels Like Yesterday: Chapter 1

Ship: Frankie Morales x Elena Bohannon (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,035 Words

Warnings: Language

Masterlist

Summary: It’s been 10 years since Frankie and Elena have seen each other. But everyone is coming into town for Elena’s brother’s wedding, and Santiago has a few plans up his sleeve.

A/N: The moon and sun story that I used can be found here. I’ve really enjoyed writing this fic so far, so I hope you like this part! As always, translations for any Spanish phrases will be at the bottom. Please let me know what you think and if you want to be in my tag list!!

“There once was a moon, as beautiful as can be, only the stars could fathom, but the sun could not see.”

10 years later

The sun shone through the curtains in her apartment, beams dancing across her face and kissing her awake. She could almost feel the warmth of the early August morning. Her eyes fluttered open and she rolled over to look away from the sun as she stretched across her bed. It was empty. Lazily, she reached out farther across her expensive Egyptian Cotton sheets looking for him, but he'd obviously left. Elena sat up and stretched, running her hand through her messy locks and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She grabbed her glasses off the nightstand before slipping out of bed. Her master bedroom was a disaster from the night before. Clothes thrown everywhere, blankets on the floor. She smiled at the memory; no wonder she was still so tired.

Wrapped in her robe, she walked on to her balcony that was littered with box gardens and plant pots, the flowery aroma overpowering the smell of the city below. After years of hard work, she finally was able to afford the apartment that overlooked Central Park. Well, it also helped that her boyfriend had such a stable and high paying job as an executive for HarperCollins. But she was able to afford this apartment before they moved in together. She did it all on her own. “You’d be proud of me, Papa,” she said looking up at the sky, pretending he was looking down at her, smiling. 

She felt a pair of muscular arms wrap around her, pulling her close against his body as he peppered her with kisses on the back of her neck. “I love waking up to this,” he said.

Elena turned around in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. His dark hair was still unruly from the night before. She looked into his green eyes and kissed him lightly. “Good morning to you too,” she said, “I thought you already left for work to finish some expense reports.”

He shook his head. “I decided not to go in today. I can work from here. But,” he smiled, “I did make us breakfast.”

She groaned. “How did I get so lucky?”

He kissed her. “I think I should be asking that.” He kissed her again, burying his face into her neck. “Breakfast is ready, but I think I would much rather try that thing we did last night again.”

Elena chuckled. “Can I get some food in my system first, before we satisfy your appetite, Liam?”

He growled. “As always, you win.” He led her back into the apartment to the small breakfast he’d made. He handed her a plate. “Your mother called this morning. She wanted to know what time our flight landed tomorrow.”

Elena sighed. “I sent her our inventory.”

Liam laughed. “I think she just misses us and was looking for an excuse to call. Now that your brother is getting married, I think she’s getting empty nest syndrome.”

She agreed. After her father died, her mother devoted her entire time to her kids. It wasn’t until after she graduated college did her mother finally remarry, Mr. Garcia at that. At the wedding, she and Santi joked about how they always felt like siblings anyway, so why not make it official. There was one person she’d hoped to see there, but he never showed. Apparently, he was off on assignment, whatever that meant. Since then, she, Santiago, and her two siblings, David and María, had moved on with their lives. Her childhood house was completely empty except for her mother and stepfather.

Elena took a bite. “I’ll call her when I get home tonight,” she said. Liam looked at her confused. “It is Sunday, dear,” she added, “Cal and I go shopping and get lunch every Sunday.”

He nodded. “I completely forgot.”

There was a knock at the door. “That’ll be him,” she said. She took another bite before getting up. She opened the door. “You’re early,” she said, hugging him.

“No, you slept in.” He looked at her and then to Liam with a raised eyebrow. “Late night?”

She slapped his shoulder. “I’ll go get ready. Can you two behave while I’m gone?”

Liam turned in his chair to watch her run down the hallway. “Only if he plays nice.”

She scoffed and ran off to get dressed.

***

Santiago drove to the airport, waiting for his brothers to get off the plane. He could hear them before he could see them. “Oh, fuck you, Benny,” he heard Ironhead say. Benny ran ahead of them away from his brother laughing. Redfly was right behind them shaking his head. Santiago was looking past them for Cat, but he was clearly taking his time. He hadn’t been back to San Antonio for close to a decade, and he knew Frankie was feeling every emotion he left behind all at once. 

“Pope!” Benny exclaimed as he ran to him. “We didn’t think you’d make it. Figured you were still down in South America hooking up with hot ‘informants’.”

He laughed. “Fuck you, Benny.” 

Benny held his hands up in surrender. “Man, what have I done to get such love from my brothers.” 

They each took their turns giving Santi a brotherly hug before heading to baggage claim. He grabbed Will by the arm to stop him. “Where is he?”

Will looked back the direction they came. “He’s in the bathroom. He has been a wreck the entire trip home.”

“I expected half as much,” Santi added.

“What happened here?”

He sighed and saw Frankie coming, still wearing that baseball cap she gave him years ago. “He fucked everything up, and he’s about to face it all this week.”

“He was talking in his sleep on the plane,” Will said, “he kept talking to someone named Luna.”

Santiago let out a soft laugh. “Those fuckin’ nicknames.” He looked up at Ironhead, who was confused. “Don’t tell him he did that.”

“You got it, man.” He slapped him on the shoulder and walked off.

Frankie slowly walked over to Santi and gave him a long brotherly hug. “It’s about time I get you back here,” he laughed. 

“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, “and I sure as hell shouldn’t be going to David’s wedding.” He looked like he was about to lose his lunch.

Santiago sighed. “She’s moved on,” he said, “I told you that. She’s happy in Manhattan with her boyfriend. Honestly, they’re probably going to get married before too long. She’s done hating you...probably.” He knew deep down that she was going to be pissed off that Frankie was back, but he was tired of seeing both of them hurting. Every time she came home, she’d walk around her mother’s house and turn down photos of her and Frankie. She hardly ever addressed him by name. Even after all these years, no matter how much she would deny it, Santiago knew she was still in love with Frankie, as he was with her.

Frankie nodded, wanting to believe him. But he knew better. The minute they would see each other, she would come over to him and give him a piece of her mind. “Even if you told me in a letter, I would be pissed, but at least I knew. Besides, I’d see you again, because you’re not just going to abandon me.” That’s what she had said, not knowing the truth. And he did exactly that. He left and once he heard she was dating some guy from her college, and it had gotten pretty serious, he never came back. He couldn’t handle the thought of losing her. Now, he was going to have to face it, because the whole gang was back together and going to her brother’s wedding. “When was the last time you saw her?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“I came home for Dad’s 60th last fall, and she was down here for the whole week.”

“How - how was she?”

Santi looked at him, and slung his arm around his shoulder. “She’s good. Really good. And she’s happier than I’d seen her in years. For a while, I thought you’d broken her for good. But…” he caught himself, not wanting to bring up Liam just yet. “You’ll see on Saturday.”

Frankie shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m going to go. I don’t think seeing her for the first time in a decade at her brother’s wedding is a good idea.”

“Then, I’ll set up something at the house. A bonfire or something, like old times.”

He shook his head again. Frankie looked over to Benny, Will, and Tom. “Maybe just sticking with them for the week will help.”

Santiago shook his head. “You can’t avoid her forever.”

“No, but I can try.”

***

Elena was sitting with Cal at a little cafe, looking through her bags. “Thanks for helping me find a dress for the rehearsal dinner,” she said, “I was about to just show up in my slip.”

He smiled at her and laughed. “Oh, of course. So, now that David is getting married, I guess that leaves you,” he smiled.

She blushed. “You would think, but he hasn’t even acted like he has plans.”

He sipped on his glass of Merlot. “Girl, if the two of you have known each other for as long as you say, I’m sure he’s just trying to find the right moment to propose. Maybe he will take you to an old childhood spot when you’re home and pop the question.” 

Cal was suddenly lost in his fantasy, planning out her life, when her phone rang. They both looked at the caller ID photo and saw Santiago’s face. Cal swooned. He’d had the biggest crush on him when he went home with her as her date to her mother’s wedding. The same weekend Elena and Liam reconnected. “Please answer so I can hear his voice.”

She laughed and answered the phone. “Hey, Santi, ¿qué pasa?”

“Hola, ‘lena. Mama says you’re coming in tomorrow?”

“Sí. Liam and I are taking a morning flight.” She could hear his breathing start to pick up. “Santi, ¿qué pasa con usted?”

“I think it’s better if you hear from me.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time, because they’ll start to wonder where I am.”

“Hey, Pope! Hurry up. Cat is taking us fishing and we are waiting on you,” She heard a family voice of one of his army buddies exclaim in the background. Cat-Catfish. Frankie was home.

Elena froze and looked through Cal with tears in her eyes. She could see Frankie sitting across from her in that diner telling her how he felt without ever actually saying anything, and then suddenly her heart broke again. She gasped. “Santi…”

“It’s my fault,” he said, “I told him to come. It’ll be good for both of you.”

“You know I never want to see him again, and so you told him to come to David’s wedding?”

Santiago sighed. “That’s why I called. To warn you. Look, he’s just as terrified as you are.”

“I’m not terrified. I’m pissed. What kind of nerve does he have thinking he could come to my brother’s wedding?”

“Elena, I love you. You’re my sister in every sense of the word. This was bound to happen eventually. Besides, David invited him.”

She refused to respond to him.

“Look, my old Squad is here. David invited them all too, since he got to know them over the years. They’ll help me keep Frankie preoccupied, if you really don’t want to see him.”

She could feel herself about to lose control. All she could muster was, “I’ll see you at the rehearsal, Santi. Love you.”

Elena slammed the phone down and buried her face in her hands. Cal sat in silence, waiting for her to say something. Instead, she grabbed her phone and dialed Rae. “Hello!” Her voice sang over the phone.

“Did you know?” She asked dryly.

“Well, hello to you too, Sunshine.”

“Rae. Did you know Santi told Frankie to come to David’s wedding?”

She gasped and didn’t speak for a minute. “He did what? I swear I didn’t know, and we had lunch the other day! Why the fuck would he do that?”

Elena let out a few tears. “Why the fuck is he home? Ten years. I have gone ten fucking years without having to deal with him, and so he chooses now to come back?”

Rae waited for her to calm down. “Does he know about you and Liam?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. He was the last person she wanted to see. “We land tomorrow afternoon. As soon as we drop our stuff off, meet me at the usual.”

“Do you want me to kick Santiago’s ass for being a moron?”

Elena stifled a laugh. “No,” she said, “I want that privilege.”

***

Rae looked at her phone, contemplating on calling Santiago and bitching him out. But she knew he was smart. He did this for a reason. She opened her contacts and clicked on his icon. It rang several times before going to voicemail. “Santi, fucking answer your phone. You’ll never guess who just called me,” she said.

He felt the phone vibrate in his pocket as he looked over to Frankie and Benny in the boat. Will and Tom were sitting up front cracking open beers while the other two prepared the bait. With Santi at the helm, and everyone distracted, he could easily answer the phone. He slid it out of his pocket and saw five missed calls from Rae. “Shit,” he whispered. He looked back at the guys again to make sure they were all preoccupied as he called her back. 

“It’s about fucking time you call me,” she said.

He instantly hit the volume on his phone to turn down the sound. “Not so loud,” he whispered.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, Santi? This week?”

“Rae, I need to call you back. How about I stop by tonight and explain everything?” he quickly whispered over her yelling.

“Who are you whispering to over there, Pope?” Benny yelled, drawing attention to him.

“Rae, I gotta go.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Garcia!”

He ended the call and turned to Benny and grinned. “That piece of Colombian tail I was chasing before I came home.”

Benny whooped and high fived Santi before sitting back down next to Frankie. “I knew it.”

Pope smiled and turned his attention back to his phone. He quickly sent Rae a text: 

I promise we will talk when I get back. The guys wanted to go fishing. I can’t talk with them right next to me.

She instantly replied: 

You better have a good reason why you brought him here.

***

Cal looked at Elena as she tried to catch her breath. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. He reached across the table and grabbed her hands. “Do you want to tell me what all that was about?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. It’s something from my past I wish would stay buried.”

Cal inhaled and leaned back in his chair. “Obviously it’s not. Whoever this Frankie guy is…” he paused and watched her demeanor instantly change at the mention of his name. “He has you in all sorts of knots.”

A few tears slid down her cheek before she looked up at Cal. “I want to stay mad at him,” she said, “but I know the moment I see him, everything will be forgiven.” She cried into her hands. “I was finally able to move on. I am finally happy with my life. Why does he have to come home and fuck everything up?”

“Who is he?” He motioned for the waitress to bring another bottle.

“Fransisco Morales.” She breathed his name. It had been years since she talked about him to anyone, and saying his name like that made her heart skip several beats. “He was my best friend. He, Liam, and I all grew up together. We were thick as thieves; practically lived with us through middle and high school. We went everywhere and did everything together. Honestly, there was...no is no one that knows me better than Frankie.”

“Not even Liam?” He asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her.

She let several more tears slide down her cheek as she drank from her wine glass. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s really not.”

Elena took in several deep breaths. “I love Liam. I have my whole life. He’s a good man that I know will never do anything to hurt me. He’s been there for me when others abandoned me.”

“Others meaning this Frankie guy.” Cal crossed his arms and looked at her.

“Frankie,” she took in another deep breath, trying to calm herself, “he hurt me. Bad. Like, cut me deep to the bone, and it took me forever to heal from it.” She grabbed her wallet out of her purse and pulled out a wrinkled, aged envelope that had been folded in half and shoved into the cash section. “The last night I saw him, we had this serious talk about long distance relationships. The entire time, I thought he was talking about someone else, but when I got this in the mail the following week, I realized how dumb I really was.”

Elena handed Cal the letter to read. “And you carry it with you?”

“It’s stupid, I know,” she said, wiping her eyes with her napkin, “but Frankie was the most important person in my life for thirteen years. When my dad died, he was the only one who could keep me together; keep me going. This letter told me everything I ever wanted to know, and it destroyed me. So I carry it around as a reminder of my lowest point. A reminder to never let myself be this weak again.”

Cal read through the letter and gazed back up at her. “Oh, sweetie,” he said, gently folding it back into the envelope. “Do Liam know any of this?”

She shook her head. “He knows that Frankie hurt me, but that’s it. He has no idea about the letter, his feelings for me, or anything.”

He sighed. “Elena,” he began, “you clearly have some unresolved feelings for him as well.”

She vehemently shook her head. “If anything, it’s the hurt and anger I harbored over the better part of a decade.”

“Are you going to tell Liam?” he asked.

“He’s going to see him anyway,” she said, sipping her wine, “but the last time we talked about Frankie…” she trailed off and tried to forget the biggest fight she and Liam ever had. She was sure they would have ended right then and there if it hadn’t been for Rae calling in the middle of it. After that, they never finished that discussion. Never revisited that topic. Frankie was a forbidden name in their house. “Well, we don’t talk about Frankie.”

“I thought the three of you grew up ‘thick as thieves’,” Cal added.

Elena nodded. “That was until about high school. Then everything became a competition. They would only hang out together in our group. Never just the three of us or just the two of them. I knew what was happening, but I never knew how to put a stop to it. I couldn’t choose sides, because they both meant so much to me. That was, until one day when Liam and I had plans. Frankie’s truck stalled in the middle of an intersection, and he was rushed to the hospital after a car struck him. He called me and told me he was fine. Just a broken arm, but I left Liam without a second thought. I burned him, bad. Ever since then, whenever we bring up Frankie, it turns into a huge fight.”

Cal sighed. “Look, if you and Liam really love each other, Frankie won’t come between you at all.”

She started to space out, dissociating from the conversation. She knew what Cal didn’t. Liam was jealous of Frankie. He always was, and he knew that Elena and Frankie had a deep, unspoken bond that couldn’t simply be swept under the rug after ten years.

***

The sun was starting to set, creating beautiful purple and orange clouds across the sky. She stood just outside her apartment complex and looked up with a large smile on her face. “Have you heard the story about the moon and the sun?” she asked Cal, who was starting to wave for a cab.

“What?”

“The sun loved the moon so much that he died every night to let her breathe,” she recited. 

Cal looked at her look at the sky while she continued her story: 

“During the time when Earth was simple, the Sun shone brighter than anything in the sky. He brought everything joy and warmth, but he was lonely in the sky. Then there was the Moon. When the sun would grow tired, she would rise into the sky with her beautiful stars, but her beauty went unnoticed by everything on the earth. As she only shined while they slept. The Stars hoped that one day they could get closer to her so she wouldn’t feel so empty, but they could not. She was untouchable, surrounding herself with a blanket of darkness through the cold nights. One day, the Sun was sliding out of the heavens, and he caught a glimpse of her. She was peeking up, a rare side of her being exposed to the light. So, just as the Stars were wandering into the night, the Sun fell in love like a snowball hurtling down a mountain. How he wished to see her more than the fleeting moments he shared with her at both dawn and dusk. ‘Go,’ she whispered to him one of these nights, her voice as sweet and sorrowful as the last light of morning, ‘Go and let me breathe, for you and I have decided fates. You illuminate the day, and I cast a glow on the night. We will never be. Our connection would go against what all people believe, all they know.’ During the summer he would stay a little longer, just in case she would change her mind. But she would say ‘Don’t you dare abandon your blessing of light for my darkness.’ Those were the last words the Moon was strong enough to speak to the Sun.”

They both stood in silence while she smiled up at the sky, seeing the Moon making her appearance early, and the sun staying just a little longer so he could see her one last time before he disappeared. Cal broke the silence by clearing his throat. “Is that you and Frankie?” he asked.

She blinked her eyes and glanced over to him. “It was our favorite myth my mother used to tell us when we were kids. We joked that he was the Sun and I was the Moon, because he would do everything to make sure I wasn’t alone in my darkness, and I would always try to lift him up so the world never missed out on all the light he could give.”

Cal placed his hand over his heart. “You’re killing me with this,” he said, “be careful this week at home. Call me if you need anything.”

She hugged him. “I will. Love you, dear.”

“Love you, kid.”

She made her way back up to her apartment, where she found Liam sitting in the office working on his expense reports. Elena leaned against the doorframe watching him. She smiled at the sight. His left eye would squint a little every time he’d get frustrated with his work, and she thought it was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Her heart soared as she looked at him. Elena wasn’t lying to Cal when she told him how happy Liam made her. After all, they’d been friends their entire lives, and he had been there for her when she needed him most. But, then her mind drifted to Frankie. She’d been in love with Frankie for as long as she could remember. He was her Sol. But the Sun and Moon are not destined to be together. I have to let him go, for good. She thought to herself. 

Cal looked over and saw her standing there. “You’re back early,” he smiled, reaching for her to join him.

She dropped the bags by the door and slid onto his lap, kissing him passionately. He smiled against her lips and returned the favor. “Miss me that much?” he said.

Elena pulled away and looked down at him, with sadness in her eyes. “We need to talk about this week.”

He tensed up. “What’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath. “Santiago called me today,” she began, “and he wanted to warn me that Frankie was going to be there.”

She felt Liam go rigid. He sat there for several seconds, looking past her, with anger in his eyes. When she’d picked Frankie over Liam that fateful day, he’d never forgiven Frankie. Their friendship had ended right then and there. Ever since then, his hatred for Frankie grew, especially when he crushed Elena the way he did. “How do you feel?”

Elena ran her hands down Liam’s chest. “Hurt. Angry. The same emotions I’ve had for the last ten years.”

“I thought you’d moved past this,” Liam said.

“I have, Liam,” she retorted, standing up, “but I never got closure. I deserve that. I have questions that deserve to be answered.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose before answering. “Why does that matter if you’ve moved on?”

She felt her hands start to shake. “Because, he was such an important part of my life for so long, and losing him the way I did hurt. I want to know why, and if we can still be friends after all this time.”

Liam shook his head and laughed. “It’s never been about ‘being friends,’ Elena. Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you before he left for bootcamp, because for some reason you won’t tell me, and I have respected that. But we both know that Frankie has been in love with you since the first day you met, and sometimes I think that you loved him too.”

“Liam, whether or not I had feelings for him back then doesn’t matter. Why? Because I love you. I am here now, telling you that he’s back home. I could have hid this from you, but instead I decided to tell you so we could talk about him like reasonable adults.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I know that you hate Frankie, for reasons I can’t understand. But, please, for me just set that aside. I’m not going anywhere. Put faith in me. Just because Frankie is home doesn’t mean anything.”

He reached out for her hands and held them. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles and sighed. “I have faith in you, always,” he said, “but not when Frankie is involved. It’s like you forget everything that doesn’t concern him. He has some sort of hold over you, and you’ll drop everything for him the minute he needs you.”

She didn’t try to argue that, because she knew that Liam was right. It pained her to see Liam suffering the way he was. He was actually afraid that this week, he would lose her. He loved her more than anything, and he knew that with Frankie back in their lives, he would lose the one person he held dear.

***

Rae rolled over and looked at the clock on her night stand. 1:00 AM. The doorbell was constantly being rung at random intervals, and it was driving her nuts. She grabbed an old army hoodie that Santiago let her have when he returned from bootcamp and marched down the stairs. Yanking open the door, she saw Santi standing there with a grin on his face. “You look good in that hoodie,” he chided.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asked, obviously annoyed. He let himself into her house and made his way to the kitchen. “Please, come in. Have a drink.”

Santi laughed and made himself a quick drink. “First off, I’m sorry I hung up like I did,” he said, “but Benny was getting suspicious.”

She leaned against the door jam and rolled her eyes. “Why the fuck is Frankie here?”

He took a sip of his whisky and sighed. “You know why,” he added, “Liam isn’t going to make her happy. Frankie is a miserable fuck. They belong together.”

Rae grabbed his drink and took a sip. “She won’t ever trust him again,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer and set the glass on the counter. “You and I both know she will hate herself if she stays with Liam. He’s a good man, but she’s not in love with him.”

“You seriously invited Frankie home to break up Elena and Liam?” Rae laughed and wrapped her arms around Santi’s neck. 

He shrugged and smiled at her. “We both wanted to see this for years. Why are you fighting it now?”

“Because,” she said, “Elena is my best friend, and if she says he’s happy, then I refuse to ruin that.”

Santi kissed her deeply. “What can I do to convince you otherwise?” He grinned and kissed her jaw. “Because she’ll be happier in the long run.”

Rae stopped him, forcing him to look at her. “You’ve done enough,” she said, “we just need to let them settle this on their own, mi amor.”

He laughed at her. “Fine. Whatever you say.” 

She shook her head and turned to walk away, but he stopped her. “¿Puedo pasar la noche?” He asked.

“Si esto termina bien, puedes quedarte a pasar la noche. Hasta entonces, buenas noches, Santiago,” she smiled at him as she left him in the kitchen. “Lock the door on your way out.”

Translations

¿Qué pasa (con usted)? - What’s up (with you)?

¿Puedo pasar la noche? - Can I stay the night?

Si esto termina bien, puedes quedarte a pasar la noche. Hasta entonces, buenas noches, Santiago. - If this ends well, you can stay the night. Until then, good night, Santiago.

Tag List

@magneticbucky @wickedfrsgrl @wander-lustbabe @pedropascalownsmyheart @frietiemeloen @larakasser

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

An Unexpected Reunion-- Malcolm Bright x Reader

oRequest; “the reader is an FBI agent who met Malcom in Quantico but they lost contact cause she went to do undercover work and now shes put in New York on. A case and they just catch up and be happy cause malcom needs happy” (anon)

Warnings; specified fem! reader, language, bits of violence, terrible writing

Word Count; 2.1k

Notes; I rewrote this like 5 times so I hope y’all like it lol

Trainees were separated into groups for various training sessions throughout the day, and a group was never the same. Everyone was rotated around. Your group for the day happened to do incredibly well in the training exercises. “Best so far,” you were told. They decided to reward the group by allowing all of you to have a paintball fight, writing it off as combat practice. Everyone darted to various corners of Hogan’s Alley. You hid behind a dumpster and readied yourself for the battle to begin. A thud from the inside caused your brows to furrow. Since the Alley was a mock town, you knew that there wasn’t any trash inside that would attract any critters. Nevertheless, you decided to check it out. You cracked open the lid, only for something to latch around your arm. “What the fuck, Bright?” He shushed you.

“Come on, this is the best hiding spot here! Anyone comes around, and you can easily take them out without being spotted. Just... just hurry up and hop in before you blow our cover.” You stared at him, blinking slowly. Was he serious? Malcolm’s eyes widened, causing him to look slightly frantic as he motioned you inside. Alright, he was completely serious. You clamored into the dumpster and hoped that no one heard the lid slam shut. Malcolm clicked on his flashlight. He raised a brow and grave you a sly grin. He started to speak, but you interrupted him.

“If you’re about to make this sexual, I swear to God I will shoot you in the crotch right now.” Malcolm grimaced, looking highly offended.

“What? No! I was about to ask if you had heard about how Johnson from the second group pissed his pants in the hostage simulation today,” he rapidly explained. Then he froze for a moment, giving you a doubtful look. “You wouldn’t shoot me this close range. You’re not that cruel.” You held up your gun.

“Wanna bet?” Malcom narrowed his eyes at you. He was challenging your capabilities. What was once a game of hide-and-go-seek turned into a game of cat-and-mouse. Either way, you weren’t losing. You leaned back and pulled the trigger. The paintball hit its target with a loud twap! Malcolm shouted a string of profanities as he curled into fetal position. You clasped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Bitch...” he groaned. 

“You practically told me to!” 

Fond memories of your old life were what got you through your secret life. Being assigned to go undercover for months on end was no easy feat. There were plenty of times you wanted to call it quits, but you couldn’t. So, you’d think of moments that made you happy. You were beyond relieved when you were able to return home. It was as if you could finally breathe again. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for at least two weeks straight, but, of course, you weren’t allowed such luxuries.

You had awakened too early for your liking but decided to spend the time catching up on all the shows you missed while undercover. You had just sat down with a cup of coffee when someone started banging on your door. You sighed, taking a long sip of your coffee and hoping that they would go away. Luck wasn’t on your side, as the person continued to try to punch your door down. You groaned and shuffled over towards the door. It revealed a woman with curly hair. She gave you a small grin and held up a badge. You squinted at it in an attempt to determine its authenticity. “Hi, I’m Dani Powell with the NYPD. Are you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” You eyed her for a moment before finally deciding that she was telling the truth about her identity. You slowly nodded, slightly confused as to why she was there. “Mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?” she asked, putting her badge away.

“Yeah... what’s... I’m sorry what’s going on?”

“Your neighbor was murdered last night.”

Your body tensed. Was she serious? Could a murder have seriously taken place right under your nose? You turned on your heel and hurried further into your apartment. Dani looked confused, hesitantly stepping inside. You fumbled through a drawer before returning with a badge of your own. “I’m with the FBI. Could I see the crime scene please?” Dani raised a brow at you.

“Let’s go talk to my superior first.” You nodded and slipped on a pair of shoes. Following Dani down the hall, she approached a man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Where’s Gil?” The man furrowed his brows at the sight of you. Okay, so maybe you could have at least brushed your hair before you walked out. You probably looked like a hot mess.

“Inside. Who’s your friend?”

“Special Agent (Y/F/N). FBI. I live down the hall,” you answered. The man seemed surprised, causing Dani to roll her eyes.

“Oh shit, really? I’m TJ.” He started to say something else, but Dani interrupted him. 

“She wanted to see the scene, but I was gonna let her talk to Gil first.” You pursed your lips. Surely, it wasn’t the same person you were thinking of. There was a slight commotion from inside the crime scene before two men emerged into the hall. One was waving his hands widely, while the other looked done with his shit.

“Okay, so we’re looking for-” Your jaw dropped. Malcolm? Here, of all places? The world is quite a small place. “Cookie?” TJ and Dani’s faces wrinkled.

“Stinky!” Malcolm laughed at the familiar nickname as you threw your arms around him in an embrace. Gil smiled at the two of you.

“What am I, chopped liver?” You scoffed before giving him a hug too. TJ and Dani shared a look of confusion, which wasn’t lost under Malcolm’s gaze.

“Team, this is Cookie. Cookie, this is the team.” 

“I’m sorry-- but Cookie?” TJ asked, almost astonished at hearing Malcolm call someone by their pet name. The profiler nodded. A smirk crossed his lips.

“We’ve been friends since Quantico. During training, (Y/N) snuck out of her room to steal some treats. Everyone’s called her that since.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of your nickname.

“And you’re... Stinky?” Dani asked with a laugh. You beamed at the opportunity to share your favorite memory from training.

“At some point during your time at the academy, a handful of trainees are dropped off at random points in the Prince William Forrest Park to test your survival skills. We somehow managed to bump into each other while wandering around and decided to team up. Two heads are better than one, right? So, we were trying to figure out a shelter situation when Stinky discovered a foxhole type thing. I warned him not to go in, but-” Malcolm interrupted you.

“I’m pretty sure you said, ‘We can’t go in there because your head’s too big. You’d get stuck and die before we even get a chance to go on a real mission.’”

“Shut up, Stinky, I’m telling a story. Anyways, the bastard decided to go in. Lo and behold! There was a family of skunks living inside, and he just barged right on in. The dude stunk. Bad. No one would go near him for about a week. So, the name Stinky was born.” 

After telling the group a few more stories about Malcolm and learning a bit more about the case, you went back to your apartment to change into some actual clothes. They still required you to go down to the station and make a statement. Malcolm offered you a ride, which you gladly accepted. You hadn’t seen him since before he got fired.

As the two of you got in his car, you couldn’t help but notice how awful he looked. His hands were shaking, and he had heavy bags under his eyes. “You’re staring,” Malcolm joked, but, this time, the smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You shook your head.

“Yeah, it’s cause you look like shit, Malcolm.” He turned his attention back to starting the car. He knew that you were being serious when you used his actual name. You watched his inner turmoil, no doubt debating whether he could confide in you. Turning your gaze away, you didn’t want him to feel like a bug under a microscope. “How long has it been this bad?” 

“It’s been bad for a while now, but it’s gotten worse over the past few weeks.” His voice was small, and it made your heart ache. Shaking your head, you got out of the car. Malcolm’s brows furrowed. You poked your head back inside.

“Well? Are you just gonna sit there like a fly on the wall, or are you going to tag along with me?” Without a moment’s hesitation, Malcolm switched the car off and appeared by your side. You linked your arm with his, tugging him along. “Don’t ask questions, just follow my lead.”

You led him to a rather posh boutique not too far from your apartment building. Malcolm seemed a bit concerned as to what you had in store for him, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The older woman working there seemed a bit disapproving as the two of you walked in, giggling over some old inside joke. “Okay, seriously, why are we here?” Malcolm finally asked. You grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch.

“You have five minutes to put the most ridiculous outfit together. Loser has to buy lunch. Go!” 

You scurried away, hoping that he would let loose and have some fun. Luckily for you, Malcolm wasn’t the one to back away form a challenge. Five minutes passed faster than you would have liked, but you thought you did pretty good. You were wearing large sunglasses, a tiara, and a jacket almost entirely made of rhinestones. You turned around and nearly fell to the ground with laughter. You hadn’t expected Malcolm to take the challenge that seriously. He was wearing sunglasses similar to your own, a feather boa, a shiny necklace, and he was even holding a single earring to one of his earlobes. What got you the most was his ridiculous hat, something you would only expect to see at the Kentucky Derby. His smile widened at your reaction. “Looks like you’ll be the one buying lunch.” 

“I lost?”

“Obviously,” Malcolm scoffed.

“Oh, but did I really?” You quickly pulled out your phone, snapping a couple pictures. “I can’t wait to show these to Gil. He’s gonna die.” Malcolm’s jaw dropped. He put his earring down and held a hand out to you.

“Gimme.”

“What? Hell no, Stinky. You’re gonna have to pry this thing out of my cold, dead hands.” His eyes narrowed, and you immediately regretted your statement. Malcolm lunged at you, causing you to shriek and dash away. He cornered you near some clothing racks. His arms wrapped around you as he attempted to wrangle your phone from your hands. The two of you were too busy laughing and fighting each other to realize that you were inching closer and closer to the racks. As you struggled to get out of his grasp, Malcolm had the bright idea to suddenly let go, sending you tumbling forward. You landed on a clothing rack, taking the whole thing down with you. Malcolm roared with laughter and had to lean on his knees for support. “Fuck you!” you called out. He held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “You’re a jackass.”

“Oh, come on, you know you love m-” He was interrupted by the older woman clearing her throat. Her arms were crossed, and she was tapping one foot.

“I think it’s best if you two leave. Now.” You both apologized profusely and even offered to help clean up, but she shooed you out of the store, after taking back their clothes of course. You gave Malcolm a hard time, blaming him for getting you both banned from the store. After the two of you fell into a steady silence, walking side by side, you prompted him with a question.

“What were you saying earlier? I know I love what?” Malcolm laughed, almost nervously.

“I was going to say that you know you love me.” You pursed your lips and hummed. 

“Maybe that’s why I’ve put up with you all these years, Stinky.”

“You’re not a ray of sunshine either, Cookie.”

“At least I don’t smell like skunk ass.”

“That was five years ago!”

~*~*~

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