#i was doing a ten pull to be silly and maybe build some pity

[seri-tonin]

This mf came home at three pity....

[toiletwipes]

hoppípolla; part one

college!dream x afab reader but they pronouns

nervous college student you, smoked weed with dream one night and you couldn't ever forget it. starting a crush you knew would be the death of you. and at the moment, you had a terrible way of dealing with things. and things just kept happening, one thing after another.

a little author's note: i'm splitting it into parts because i like the attention and also because it feels right

2.37k words

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he literally couldn't get any hotter.

you sit at a mini-bar, crossing your leg over the other, sipping at your sprite. there was he was, in all of his fucking glory, was dream. your classmate in your english course and the one person at this party who you knew, for an absolute fact, smoked weed. and although he wasn't smoking right now, the beer in his hand said that he probably wasn't going to be, tonight.

oh you knew, this was a college dorm party, and people tried all sorts of party drugs, and weed was the tip of the iceberg. no, you knew that.

but no one was also that hot.

well.

maybe they were but they just weren't dream, not a stoner, not someone who had damn good genetics, and someone who knew how to roll a joint perfectly. not to mention, his best friend sapnap? also your best friend.

he's the one who introduced you two, despite having shared english for the past year. and he's the one who brought you and dream to the party.

(yeah, you sat in the back, pulling at the cords of your hoodie, watching the sides of his face move with quiet notions, talking to sapnap as he drove and playing soft music to match the rain.)

thinking even more, you wanted to just get up and go outside, just the urge to smoke something and anything, something to fill your lungs as your mind numbs just even the tiniest bit.

you sigh, taking one more sip of your drink before leaving it at the mini-bar, slipping your hands into the pocket of your hoodie and sliding out a cigarette out of its carton. taking a step outside, you sigh in relief seeing the dry porch. several others sat in a circle, passing around a beer and two decent blunts. sometimes sharing a kiss, sometimes the smoke between their lips.

what you would give to do that with dream, you bemoaned silently, as you lit your own cigarette, inhaling the bitter nicotine as you enjoyed the patters of the rain.

wiping your hand down on a bench, and seeing as it wasn't as wet as you thought it would be, you take a seat and take another long drag.

"so, what did he say?"

a girl with a bright green mullet and the sides of her head dyed pink, and several piercings in an non-existent eyebrow, she stares at you expectantly. as if you had an answer.

"don't know. haven't really talked to him." you shrug, trying not to think about any of your past conversations with him. all dull, all about school, all about homework. there would be no reason for him to agree to anything dealing with you in any romantic sense. or sexually, if you even dared.

"you know what that means right?" you look at her with a pinched expression. "it means you start talking to him, then ask him to blow your back out, or whatever it is you want" you almost choke on the smoke coming out of you but you mostly laugh it off.

"yeah like he'd want to talk to me," you muse, finding the stranger oddly comforting as she came over to sit next to you.

"well you don't know that, do you?" you had to give her that. you didn't know. but it wouldn't take a genius to guess the right answer. "does he smoke?" she asks, turning to you and feeling like there's nothing really stopping you from becoming besties, you pass your cigarette to her.

"i know he smokes weed but nothing else as far as i'm aware." you lean forward onto your knees, pressing your chin into your palms. "but honestly, i don't know him that much to begin with, so like, what's the point?"

the mullet hands it back to you after a pondering puff, and when you take a drag, she answers. "well, the way i see it, you can ask him out or you hookup tonight, or try to move on if you're serious about him." she pats your knees, moving to stand as she stretched. "but really, i hope it goes well, and if you need anything," she flicks out a card and watches you take it with disregarding eyes, "give me a call." and without as so much another word, she's leaving in a Beetle with her circle of friends.

glancing at it, it's a card to the floral shop but with a name on it. pocketing it and then snuffing out the bud, you leave it dead on the porch, hoping to find sapnap and beg him to take you home.

you appreciated the nice girl for the conversation and maybe the start of a healthy friendship, but even just being with someone other than dream made your heart twist in your chest.

you didn't have time to search for your best friend as he clung to dream, who was dragging his ass close to the door, where you stood now.

and when you finally appeared in his vision, you see relief and a smile sink into his face. you don't know why but you push down a smile as he approaches you with long strides. but what happens next is downright hilarious.

"we have to go right now, sap just puked all over minx and she's this close to blowing this house up," his nose wrinkles with his smile, you notice, but you nod without much thought.

"need me to drive?" you offer, though, you hates nothing more than exactly that.

"please, i've had a few beers and i don't want to risk driving tipsy," he says and you want to just cry.

you nod as you hold your hand up for the keys, and upon them being dropped in the center, you swallow down the dryest, biggest lump in your throat.

hearing several honks behind you, you don't even move above the speed limit in the neighborhood, which was five. it was fucking raining and you happened to have the biggest crush in existence on the person sitting in the passenger seat.

"i know you're driving right now, but have you heard of this song?"

the first ten seconds are tense, piano notes building up to a release after the next twenty with a guitar and drums in the back.

you recognized it easily, finding it comforting. you smile as you glance behind your shoulder and flick your turn signal on. "it's called hoppípolla, isn't it? from that one movie with the cursed girl?" he laughs and your heart clenches, wanting to hear it more.

"yeah, i just wanted to see if you'd recognize it, i've shown it to like, ten people and only a few knew it." you knew it was silly to be proud to know it but you couldn't help it. you felt easy, easy to ply with.

"yeah, well, i do have an eccentric movie taste," you smile as you turn onto the next street over, finding sapnap's house immediately. originally his parents, but they were gone for a small vacation while it was the summer.

putting the car in park, you let out a breath, just happy to be done with driving for the moment. "you okay?" you jump in your seat, finding dream already out of the car with sapnap in his arms.

the man in question babbled with incoherent words, but you paid him no mind.

"um, yeah, i uh, i just- just hate driving," you grimace as you pull yourself out of the car, getting hit with the constant pelting rain.

he frowns, of all things, walking to the porch as you beat him there already, unlocking the door.

he lays sapnap down on the couch as you make your way to the kitchen, helping yourself to the gourmet chocolate cake left there by his parents' anniversary.

tasting as sweet as you thought it would be, but somehow so fucking bitter at the same time. maybe it's the way you want to cry but how lame would that be? found in your best friend's house crying as you ate their cake?

not cool.

wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, you pick yourself up and sit on the counter, desperate to change how your feeling. your skirt riding up your thighs, almost hiding in your oversized hoodie, not that you noticed.

and as if he could read your fucking mind, he walks in as he's ruffling his head of hair, as if he just got out of the shower. catching you on the counter, you had half a mind to stop eating cake and get down but you just didn't care at this point.

"want some?" you offered, sliding the platter of cake towards him while you tried to hide the fact that your face was blotchy and your nose couldn't stop sniffling. you hated the way pity looked in people. but when you turned to give dream a spoon, you saw nothing but a man with flushed cheeks and darting eyes. "are- are you good, dream?" you ask, almost disbelieving that this man is anything but flustered.

"you just, uh, well. i- i don't know how to say this but." he covers his mouth and face with one hand as he points to your lap. raising an eyebrow, you turn your head down to see the little, cyan bow on the front of your grey panties.

"oh fuck-" you dropped your fork as you yanked your skirt down and hopped from the counter, barely meeting his shoulders as you went to move away from him.

tears dropped from your eyes faster as you went to leave, when dream's arm shoots out to stop you, grabbing you by the arm as he protests you leaving.

"okay, it's bad but you can stay, um, let's just finish the cake and go to bed." you really didn't want to, dream seeing your underwear while you ate cake was forcibly checked off your bucket list.

turning around, you wanted to shrink and then be crushed like a bug underneath dream's shoe, but you settled for picking up your spoon and shoveling a bit of cake in your mouth until you couldn't think about anything else.

you flashed your crush, and he asked you to stay to eat cake. cake, of all things, you mourned.

wished somebody eat you out, you weep in your head, and come to your horror, dream starts choking on cake, coughing loudly as he punched his chest.

"i have a feeling i said something out loud." you feel humiliated as you just let the fork fall from your fingers, walking out of the kitchen, not hearing the man disagree and then as you're about to just pull your shoes on and leave, dream comes out of the kitchen and puts his hands on your shoulders.

"listen, uhh, i don't want to freak you out, but a few weeks ago, when- when we went to that party with george, he may or may not have said that you had, uh, that you have a crush on me and- is- is that right?" his words fell out of his mouth faster than he could trip over his feet. "do you like me like that?"

you wanted to melt into the ground.

"can i just go?" you whimpered out, turning your head as you tried to pull his hands off your shoulder.

"please answer the question," he begs, moving his hands from your shoulders to your cheeks, cradling it as he got closer. "because i cannot stop thinking about you, and every time we're alone, you always leave as soon as possible but then you looked so hot on the counter-" he breaks off, moaning under your stare as you listen with wide eyes.

"please say you feel the same," he begged pulling your face close to his as you gripped his arms.

"and what would you do if i did?" you whispered, eyes closing as you tried to hold onto your beating heart. his breath fanned over your lips, and all you could think about was him, him, him.

"anything you'd let me do," he says and you let out a broken moan when your two lips met, slotting against each other as if they were always meant for this. he moves his hands from your face to your shoulders and down as he moved to your waist. you grabbed a handful of his hair, the other holding the side of his face, and he moves his mouth from yours and licks a stripe down your chin to your neck.

"do you remember the day we first met," he murmured against your skin as you panted. "you were shivering while we waited for the professor, and you asked if you could borrow my jacket." it does ring a bell but you're not thinking too hard when he starts biting into your neck.

"and when you keep showing up, wearing my jacket, and that pretty, short skirt," he reaches up with one hand to hold onto your neck as he sucks a hickey right into your skin, painting as much as he could with such a pliable canvas as your skin.

"the things you do to me," he lets out a moan so broken, you wondered how he could be this affected by you and you not noticing for so long.

"we have all night, we can-" you let out a whine as he sucks hard into that sweet spot, "we can try to do it, everything, everything you and i want."

reaching down, he slipped his hands underneath your ass, picking you up with ease as he moved towards the guest bedroom. "i hope you're not planning on walking anywhere tomorrow," he pants in your ear, leaning you against the door as he uses the one hand to open it. kicking it behind him, he lays you on the bed, pushing up his hoodie to mouth kisses onto your stomach.

"as long as you'll have me," you spoke with need, your voice breaking just as much as his. and he nods hard, before he moves back over you to kiss your lips.

"you ready?"

[angryhausfrau-writes]

Your Friends Were All Standing Around Looking At Your Cock The Other Dayee...

Interior of the farm house. WAYNE, KATY, and SQUIRRELLY DAN stand around the table, looking at something.

KATY: It's a beautiful cock.

WAYNE: Oh, it's a gorgeous cock.

DAN, shifting from foot to foot, uncomfortably: Now I'ms nots denyings that it's a mightys fines cocks. I just thinks its mights not bes appropriates to have sets outs on the supper tables is all.

KATY: Oh Dan, there's been far worse things than a cock on this table.

WAYNE growls: Better not have been them hockey nutsacks.

KATY: I'm a big girl, Wayne. None of your business what nutsacks I'm spending time with.

WAYNE, begrudgingly: True.

DAN: You knows whats you're afters, miss Katys, and that's what I appreciates about you.

KATY, flirtatiously: Oh, is that what you appreciate about me?

WAYNE: Take about ten, twenty percent off her over there Squirrelly Dan.

DAN, looking at the table: Oh hey look. A cock. What is sets most unhygenicallys on the table we eats off ofs.

KATY: Jesus Dan. Hop off our cocks.

WAYNE: Besides, you're a bigger degen than Dary if you eat directly off the table.

DAN: Where is Darys anyways? Ain't like him to miss such a magnificents cocks.

DARY enters the KITCHEN: Sorry I'm late. Spent all morning wrangling my cock into its cage.

DAN, sympathetically: Its was giving yous some troubles thens?

DARY: Kept making itself all big and plumped up. Couldn't get it to fit in the cage. Ended up having to really wrassle with it for a good long while.

KATY: Could say you had to take your cock firmly in hand there, Dary?

WAYNE: Pert near had to choke that chicken, I'd imagine.

DARY: Pert near.

DAN: But yous gots it settled downs and ins its cage?

DARY nods and hefts a rooster in a wire cage into frame: Yup. Tuckered it out eventually. Now it's placid as anything.

WAYNE: Now that's a handsome cock, Dary. A right handsome cock.

DARY, bashful: Aw, it ain't nothing special. Not like yours, Wayne.

WAYNE SHIFTS OUT OF THE WAY. PAN TO ROOSTER ON THE TABLE.

DARY:  Now that's a real handsome cock, and well behaved to boot.

WAYNE: Ok, Dary. Dary, ok. Ok, Dary. Dary, ok. Youwannaknowwhat? Here's the scoop and I'm gonna tell ya. I look at your cock and I think, well, I think: good for you buddy. Just like, good for you bud. Like I'm real proud of ya, Dary.

DAN: It's a mightys fines cocks, Dary. Yous gots every rights to be prouds.

KATY: Nothing wrong with a spirited cock, anyways.

DARY, bashful: Still reckon yours'll be the cock to beat down the Ag Festival, Wayne.

WAYNE: Oh it's a handsome cock all right.

KATY: A beautiful cock.

WAYNE: Oh it's a gorgeous cock.

DARY: Not to be pulling your own horn over there.

DAN: Oh yous shoulds nevers do thats. Leastwise nots ins mixed companies.

KATY: Says you.

WAYNE, abrupt: No hard feelings Dary. Regardless of who beats whose cock.

DARY: No hard feelings.

WAYNE holds his hand straight out for DARY to shake: Then may the man with the best cock win.

LETTERKENNY TITLE BUT THERE IS A ROOSTER INSTEAD OF A DOG.

ESTABLISHING SHOTS OF A FAIRGROUD.

EXTERIOR SHOT OF THE AG BUILDING.

INTERIOR SHOT OF THE AG BUILDING. WAYNE, KATY, DARY, and SQUIRRELLY DAN are standing around a table with ROOSTERS in cages on it. The DYCKS and the HOCKEY PLAYERS are also there, standing further down the room.

GLEN enters with a clipboard, officiators badge: Wayne! How're you now?

WAYNE: Good'nyou?

GLEN: Oh, I'm just dripping with excitement to be judging all y'alls cocks. Especially yours Wayne.

WAYNE squints into the distance.

DAN: You're judgings the competitions?

GLEN: Indeed I am, Daniel. Although admittedly I misunderstood the nature of the event when I first volunteered to judge. But! I have plenty of experience judging cocks from my years on the family poultry farm. The cocks I raised as a youth...

WAYNE: Pitter patter.

GLEN: Well, fine. If you don't appreciate hearing about my cock judging credentials.

DARY, snickering: Pretty sure pert near everyone in town knows 'bout those.

GLEN: True but uncalled for, Daryl!

NOAH DYCK, joining the hicks: I for one think it is admirable that Preacher Glen has experience handling and judging cocks. And from his boyhood, once.

WAYNE: Noah.

NOAH: Wayne.

DARY: Mr. Dyck.

NOAH: Daryl.

DAN: Noahs Dycks.

NOAH: Daniel. A pity Lovina Dyck could not make it to the cock judging. I'm certain she would have had she known you were showing your cock. For is it not true, mine wife, that the love tree often bears fruit when a young man parades his cock before his sweetheart, once?

ANITA approaches: What nonsense are you speaking now, Noah?

NOAH: Simply that a Dyck chooses a lifemate in part by how well she-

KATY: Or he.

DAN: Ors theys.

NOAH: -raises a cock. Did not you impress me with your cock raising skills when first we were courting?

ANITA, blushing: You say too much, husband.

NOAH: And did not you help raise this cock which I am showing proudly this day, once? Why without mine Anita Dyck's loving and tender hand, this cock would be but small and limp and lifeless.

ANITA: Us Snatches have always had a way with cocks, as well you know.

NOAH: A good thing too. Us Dycks require a skilled hand with raising our cocks. Lovina will be delighted to know you've raised such a magnificent cock as are being shown here this day. Perhaps I shall send one of my young sons to go fetch her, once. So that she might see your cock.

DAN, hurriedly: Oh nos, I'm nots showings anybodys anythings. That's all Waynes and Darys.

GLEN: Daryl! I didn't realize you were showing your cock today too. Oh, this is so exciting! Me, in the middle of a Daryl/Wayne cock sandwich.

WAYNE growls.

GLEN: Although I don't know how I'm supposed to choose between the two of your cocks. I think it will take some lengthy deliberation.

KATY: This is already taking fucking forever, I'm going to go sit down.

DAN: I'll join yous, miss Katys.

KATY as they leave: Still not over Lovina Dyck, eh?

DAN: I don'ts knows that I'll evers stop thinkings abouts Lovinas Dycks, miss Katys. Ands that's a facts.

KATY and SQUIRRELLY DAN exit.

DARY (aside): Katy's right. This is taking fucking forever.

WAYNE to GLEN: I say again. Pitter. Patter.

GLEN whines.

WAYNE: If a man should be one thing, he should be efficient.

GLEN: Fine. Everyone here? Then lets get y'all registered. What's your cocks' names? I'm sure you've come up with some good ones.

WAYNE: Plenty of good names for cocks.

DARY: Oh, you can have a lot of fun naming cocks.

WAYNE: I'm surprised we're not naming cocks right now.

DARY: Could name one after the fictional prizefighter Cocky Balboa.

WAYNE: Or the legendary real life comedian Chris Cock.

DARY: There's always actor and former wrassler Dwayne the Cock Johnson.

GLEN: Ooh, that's a two-for-one special right there.

WAYNE: Or jazz musician John Cocktrain.

DARY: I like that one.

WAYNE: Not too obscure?

DARY: Nah, it's a gooder. Cultured - but not trying too hard.

GLEN: All right, all right. So what are your cocks' names?

DARY: Cock.

GLEN: Come again? And please note, I'm saying that in a completely different context to the one I usually use.

DARY: My cock's called cock. I din't name the damn thing. I know what it looks like.

WAYNE: Well I should hope so.

DARY: And I only got the one. Not liable to mix it up with someone else's cock.

GLEN: Ok. Fine, Dary. Ruin all my fun. TURNS TO WAYNE. What about you, Wayne? What's the big fella called?

WAYNE: Only nutsacks name their cocks.

RILEY breaking into the group around GLEN: We're all saying our cock's names, boys?

JONESY: Just naming silly cock over here, boys?

RILEY: Just christening silly amounts of cock over here, boys?

WAYNE: Again, only nutsacks name their cocks.

GLEN: Yes, boys. Everyone who's entering the cock judging needs to tell me their cock's name so I can make sure to call out the right name during the handling. It's just so embarrassing to call the cock in your hands by the wrong name...

RILEY: We've got a cock to register for judging, boys.

JONESY: Well, really it's Riley's cock we're entering. And it's a real beauty, buddy.

RILEY: Hey, buddy. It's as much your cock as mine. It is a real beauty though buddy.

JONESY: Just a real beauty of a cock here, boys.

RILEY: Half clapper top cheddar.

JONESY: Guaranteed W. Ferda!

RILEY: Ferda!

GLEN: Now boys, we're talking about roosters here, not actual cocks. Don't feel bad - I too was confused at first. So, while I'm sure Riley's cock is just delightful...

JONESY: It is. He's a registered beautician, buddy.

RILEY: Thanks buddy.

GLEN: Yes. But I just want to stress again – this is the animal we're talking about here.

RILEY: Yeah, boys. Cocks.

JONESY holds up a rooster in a cage: And this is our cock:

RILEY: Four time Stanley Cup winner.

JONESY: Four time Vezina Trophy winner.

RILEY: Hockey hall-of-famer.

JONESY: Goaltender extraordinaire.

RILEY: Terry Sawcock. Ferda!

JONESY: Ferda!

DARY (aside): Kinda surprised they have a whole cock between 'em.

WAYNE: Ain't surprised they share it though, fuck.

DARY: Same way they share a set of testicles. And maybe a tongue.

GLEN: Ooh, don't tempt me Daryl.

WAYNE (turns to RILEY and JONESY): Now where in the hell did yous two nutsacks get a cock from anyways? You better not've stolen it right out from under some poor unsuspecting farmer's nose.

RILEY: We bought it down at the feed store boys.

JONESY: Heard about people keeping chickens as pets boys.

RILEY: How they're so cute and cuddly. Plus free eggs boys.

JONESY: Need plenty of protein to keep up with the gains boys.

RILEY and JONESY flex. GLEN watches avidly. WAYNE is unimpressed.

RILEY: Accidentally bought a rooster though buddy.

JONESY (sadly): Can't get eggs from a rooster buddy.

RILEY: Still a good pet though buddy.

JONESY: Yeah, just really loves to cuddle with us buddy.

RILEY: Yeah, just really loves to cuddle with us on the sofa buddy.

WAYNE: Shouldn't keep farm animals as pets. Fuck.

DARY: Farm animals belong on a farm. S'why they're called farm animals.

WAYNE: Like. You wouldn't let a sow into you're living room. And you wouldn't let a cow into your living room. So why the fuck are you cuddling up on the couch with a cock?

JONESY: Shouldn't knock it till you've tried it.

DARY: I'll knock you.

GLEN: Boys please. Lets not fight. Not when we're all gathered here today for such a noble purpose as comparing cocks.

ALL: Fine.

GLEN: All righty now, let's see. We've got Daryl's cock: cock. We've got Wayne's cock: only nutsacks name their cocks. Riley and Jonesy's collective cock: Terry Sawcock. What do you call your cock, Noah?

NOAH: While there are a great quantity of cocks at the Dyck farm, this is our most quality.

WAYNE: Quality Dyck if you will.

GLEN: Quality Dyck it is.

DARY: Sure 'nough.

WAYNE: Like you see that cock and you say, that's Quality Dyck all right. And no mistake.

GLEN: Mhm! And I know from Quality Dyck. Now, if that's everyone, we can get on with the judging...

MCMURRY barges in: Wait! (Approaching WAYNE) Wayne. How're'you'now? Good'n'you. Ohnotsobad. Okay! (Turns to the GROUP) I, McMurry, am entering my cock in this little competition. So all you sumbitches can make a hole.

GLEN: Well someone's all riled up! You can go ahead and enter your cock right here, McMurry. No need to shout.

DARY (angry): Yeah, no need to bust our balls.

WAYNE (placating): Go have a dart.

DARY (begrudgingly): Yeah, I'll have a dart.

WAYNE and DARY exit.

FADE TO BLACK.

ESTABLISHING SHOT OF THE AGRICULTURAL FESTIVAL.

ZOOM ON TWO COCK SHAKUR PLAYING FOR A CROWD IN FRONT OF THE AG BUILDING.

PAN OVER KATY AND DAN IN THE AUDIENCE.

ZOOM ON GLEN AS HE ENTERS THE STAGE AT THE FRONT OF THE CROWD.

GLEN: How'reyounow?

AUDIENCE: Good'n'you?

GAIL: All this cock talk's got me wetter than a lighthouse keeper's slicker in a Noreaster, I can tell you that much.

DAN: Gailer!

KATY: First Glen is here judging and now Gail's here.

GAIL approaches KATY and DAN.

DAN: Yeah, Gail. I didn'ts know you were so interesteds in the agriculturals.

GAIL: Less interested in the agriculturals than in seeing some. Good. Hand. Raised. Cock. Specially when I heard Wayne's entered in the cock judging.

DAN to KATY: She knows it's nots actual cocks, rights?

KATY to GAIL: More importantly, is Modean's actually closed?

DAN: Tells me it didn't burns down agains.

KATY: This town needs a fucking bar.

GAIL: Nah, Modean's 3 is still alive and kicking sure as this old goat. But when Glen told me he'd be judging cocks at the agricultural festival I figured the whole fucking town'd be here rather than down Modean's.

DAN: Nots a bad turnsout for Letterkenny's first evers ag festival.

KATY: A great fucking turnout.

GAIL: Plus, I get a chance to see Wayne's cock today – and that's worth a day's profits right there.

KATY: Gross.

GAIL: Not that I've actually lost a day's profits. Bonny's been making the rounds at the Ag festival and apparently, business. Is. Banging.

CUT TO BONNY WEAVING HER WAY THROUGH THE CROWD WITH A TRAY OF SHOT GLASSES AND BEER BOTTLES.

KATY and DAN whistfully, along with CROWD: Bonny McMurry?

GLEN (impatient): Can I have your attention please!

PAN BACK TO GLEN.

GLEN: The event we've all been waiting for – I know I have – the cock judging. Lets meet our contestants!

GLEN gestures to the stage like a game show host: First up is Wayne!

AUDIENCE applauds.

WAYNE enters with his rooster and stands stoically, hands in belt loops.

GLEN examining the rooster: An impressive cock. Sturdy. Well built. And a real big fella. Nearly eight pounds, and pure muscle. Wayne, I think you've got a real champion cock here.

WAYNE nods stoically.

GAIL: And that's not the only cock of his I hear is impressive.

GLEN: Oooh, tell me more.

WAYNE: Glen.

GAIL: That rooster's not the only cock almost eight somethings.

MCMURRY (from backstage): Wait, is that measured over or under the balls.

GAIL: And plenty of stamina to make it through those cold Canadian winter nights. If. You. Know. What. I. Mean.

GLEN: No, please continue in explicit detail.

WAYNE: Glen!

GLEN: Ok, fine. (Gestures WAYNE to move to the rear of the stage.) Moving along, next up is Dary!

AUDIENCE applauds.

GLEN examining the rooster: Oh, you've got a feisty one here, Dary. Plenty of personality! A little smaller than Wayne's but still an excellent cock. And those freckles are just too cute!

DARY: Aw, thanks Glen.

GLEN: And I'd happily take a look at your other cock if you want, Daryl.

DARY: Thanks for the offer Glen, but like I said, I only got the one.

GLEN: Oh never mind.

GLEN waves DARY off the stage.

DARY moves to stand next to WAYNE.

GLEN: Here's our next contestant, Noah Dyck!

AUDIENCE applauds.

GLEN: Now this is something special, y'all. An excellent example of a Canadian heritage breed, known for being an excellent layer and quite robust as well. Yes, I think we can all agree that this is certainly Quality Dyck right here.

NOAH: Thank you Preacher Glen. Such comments mean much coming from such an experienced judge of cocks as yourself.

GLEN: Oh, Noah. You'll make me blush. (GLEN rapidly ushers NOAH to stand next to DARY and WAYNE)  Anywho, our next contestant is Riley and Jonesy!

AUDIENCE applauds with some confusion.

DAN: What, both of thems? Collectivelys?

KATY: It makes sense. They do everything else together.

DAN: Everythings?

GAIL: Ev. Ry. Thing.

DAN: Katy?

KATY: Can confirm.

DAN: Wow. Didn'ts needs to knows thats.

KATY: You did ask.

GAIL: It's not like we gave you a blow. By. Blow account. But if you really want to know...

GLEN: This cock's a little smaller than the ones we've seen previously. Not as much muscle – might want to exercise it a little more, boys. Just really put it through it's paces.

SHORESY: Yeah! Give your balls a tug titfuckers!

RILEY: Fuck you, Shoresy! Where's your cock, if you think you're so good!

SHORESY: Fuck you Riley! If you want to know about my cock, just ask your mom. She saw plenty of it last night. Rode me so hard reverse cowgirl style I thought she was going to snap it off.

JONESY: Fuck you Shoresy!

SHORESY: Don't worry, Jonesy. Your mom was there to kiss it all better.

RILEY and JONESY: Fuck you Shoresy!

GLEN: Well! All audience commentary aside, I think you've got a very shapely cock, Riley. And I think if you put in the time, worked hard and raised it properly, you could have a real champion cock on your hands.

RILEY: Thanks, boys!

JONESY: Yeah, thanks boys!

GLEN: You're welcome. Now go sit down so we can get to our next contestant!

RILEY and JONESY fistbump and move to join the others.

McMURRY pushes forward through the other contestants: Yes, I McMurry am here to have my cock judged in front of all of you. And I'm gonna win this cocksucking cock competition, just you watch.

MRS McMURRY: Knock 'em dead, baby. Love you.

McMURRY: Love you too baby.

GLEN (awkward): Well, this cock's a little on the small side...

KATY: And that's a little bit of an understatement.

JARED KEESO CHARACTER #1: It's fucking tiny, McMurry. I've got a bigger cock hatched out an egg yesterday.

JARED KEESO CHARACTER #2: How'd you get a woman like Mrs. McMurry with a tiny cock like that?

JARED KEESO CHARACTER #1: You're a piece of shit, McMurry.

MRS McMURRY: Don't listen to him. Your cock's perfect, baby.

GLEN: Yes, well. They say it's not size that counts, but in this case – and a few others – that's just not true. Sorry, McMurry. You're out of the competition.

McMURRY: Goldangit all! (Exits STAGE mumbling profanities)

MRS McMURRY rushes after him.

GLEN: Now on to our last competitor! Modean Three's own Bonny McMurry!

AUDIENCE applauds.

DAN: I's hads no ideas she raised cocks.

KATY: I seem to remember her raising your cock pretty frequently there Dan.

DAN: I seems to remembers yous were plentys affected as well, Miss Katy.

KATY: What can I say? I like a woman with a championship cock.

GLEN: And what an excellent cock it is! A little on the slender side, but shapely! And what a lovely temperament. Outgoing without being pushy! Oh, it's just gorgeous!

WAYNE (aside to Dary): Now that's a lovely cock.

DARY: It's a beautiful cock for sure.

WAYNE: Oh it's a gorgeous cock.

GLEN: I think we have a winner folks! Let's hear it for Bonny McMurry's excellent cock!

FADE OUT TO AUDIENCE APPLAUSE AS BONNY McMURRY ACCEPTS A TROPHY.

SHOT OPENS ON THE PRODUCE STAND. WAYNE, DAN, AND DARY ARE SITTING IN THEIR USUAL SEATS WITH THEIR USUAL PUPPERS. KATYS CHAIR IS TAKEN BY WAYNE AND DARY'S ROOSTERS.

DAN: Recon Miss Katies is going to wants her seats back anytimes soons?

WAYNE: I imagine she's occupied for the evening.

DARY: Can't really blame her. I mean, who knew Bonny McMurry had such a championship cock?WAYNE: Hell, anybody'd want to go celebrate down MoDean's after a win like that. She's more than earned it, showing up all our cocks like that.

DARY: Still, there's no shame in coming second, good buddy.

DAN: Especiallys nots against such stiffs competitions.

WAYNE: I reckon you're right there, Dary. Andyouwannaknowwhat? Ain't no shame in coming third neither.

DAN: Especiallys nots against such stiffs competitions.

WAYNE stands and holds his hand out for DARY to shake: Congratulations Dary. That's a mighty fine cock you've got there.

DARY stands and shakes WAYNE's hand: Not as nice as yours, Wayne. Congratulations on the cock.

WAYNE and DARY sit.

WAYNE looks at where the roosters are sitting next to each other: Well, I'll give those hockey nutsacks this. They are cuddly little fuckers, aren't they?

DARY hawks a loogie in agreement.

WAYNE: Still not letting 'em in the fucking house though.

WAYNE, DARY, and DAN take a drink of PUPPERS.

CREDITS ROLL.

[wicked-mind]

Remember Me: Chapter Seven

Summary: Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones?

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing (I like swearing. Adds character and sounds pretty to me lol), mentions of surgical procedures, car crash, miscarriage, John Walker, slight bit of PTSD.

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

As always, any likes, reblog, or comments are appreciated (:

*gifs not mine

Previously

Y/N removed her eyes from his face, listening to the story. Her forehead creased a moment as she thought about all that was said before meeting his gaze once again. A small smile curved on her lips and she leaned towards him, kissing his lips softly before pulling away slightly to look at him, “I forgive you, Bucky."

Bucky felt relief flood through him at her words, smiling down to her. He couldn’t find any words to say to her so instead he returned his arms around her body and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. Those were words Bucky had waited to hear for so long and for a while he didn’t know if he would ever hear them from Y/N. Everything seemed right in the world for now, and even though he was worried about what was written in those journals John had given her due to what Steve had said, he hoped that whatever else it was would be forgiven also.

Truth was, Y/N always had forgiven Bucky for what was said the moment she left. She knew it was from his own fears. But what had broken her heart was hidden in the pages of those journals.

Chapter seven - The truth in the writing

Y/N wasn’t supposed to be back to work until noon, but she got called in early due to an apartment fire that would lead to multiple traumas coming in meaning it was all hands on deck. Bucky watched her pack the yellow folder John had given to her last night into her backpack before taking her to the hospital. He came back to Steve’s to find him and Peggy having some coffee. Bucky grabbed himself a mug of the dark liquid before leaning against the counter, “She took the journals with her.” He said over to Steve.

Peggy narrowed her eyes as they flickered between the two, “What journals?”

Steve sighed, sitting at the dining table next to Peggy, “Y/N’s friend, that blonde guy named John, brought some of her journals that were left behind at her base camp. Says there’s everything in there.” He informed.

“Yeah, including something we don’t know about.” Bucky grumbled out, “Something that made our break-up worse than just the words that were said.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He replayed that night so many times in his head that every moment was burned into his brain and he couldn’t think of anything other than what was said before she left, “We gotta figure this out. So I can at least try to make it better after she reads whatever is in there.”

Peggy set her glass mug on the table, “Okay, then let’s walk through it.” She said helpfully, “Y/N came here that night after her shift and showed us the deployment papers with the date for her to leave set in a month, June 7th. She was so excited to tell you that she left immediately after. What happened at your house, James?”

Bucky sighs, setting his mug down on the counter to run a hand through his dark hair, “She came in all excited and jumped into my arms. Everything was fine and then she showed me the papers. We argued about it because I didn’t want her to go. I told her if she walked out those doors I wouldn’t be here waiting for her and not to come back. And then she left.” He flinched at his own words. He hated that he had said that to Y/N.

Steve leans back in his chair, “Then she came back here in tears and frantic. We tried to get her to talk to us about what happened but she just packed her bags, got in her car, and left.” He sighs, “I called her everyday for about four days until she finally picked up and told me she was fine, just needed some space, and she would be back soon. After that, I didn’t hear from her until she was deployed.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side at Steve, narrowing his eyes, “You never told me that.”

Steve scoffs slightly, “Yeah, well, you made my sister run away, we weren’t exactly on the best speaking terms, Buck.”

“So we have no idea where she was or what she was doing for a month before she was deployed?” Peggy interrupted, watching Bucky and Steve shake their heads to say no. She bit her bottom lip for a moment, “Maybe something happened in that month.”

Bucky looked over from Peggy to Steve, “What did she say while she was deployed?” He asks curiously, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Steve looked from Peggy to Bucky, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips for a drink before setting it back down, “Y/N called me when she got to the base, told me she made it safe and she was sorry she didn’t come back before she left, that she couldn’t come back. I asked her what happened between you two and she told me what was said. I told her you didn’t mean it and to at least give you a call.” He watched Bucky’s features soften for a moment, “There were a few more phone calls. She told me what you said hurt, but that she was okay and there was another reason she couldn’t come home or talk to you. We didn’t really talk about you two after that.”

Bucky groaned slightly. What had happened? The more he thought about it the more the timeline didn’t make sense. Everything had been fine between them the days, even weeks leading up to when she ran away were fine. He sighs looking back to Steve, “I don’t know, man.” He said, “Everything was great. We made cookies together, went on rides, had a Star Wars marathon. Everything was perfect… So perfect in fact I bought a damn engagement ring.”

Steve looked at Bucky with almost fully wide eyes before looking at Peggy who was sipping her coffee avoiding eye contact, “You knew about this, Peggy?”

Peggy put her coffee down, pursing her lips a little before speaking, “Of course I knew! Who do you think had to help him pick out the damn thing?”

Steve nodded and turned his attention back to Bucky, “Wow.” He said still nodding, “Well, now I really wish things would’ve gone differently. She would’ve been so excited.” He said with a small smile towards Bucky. Steve had always trusted Bucky with Y/N. The way he treated her was like a queen.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile for a moment at Steve’s approval before it faded back into a stern line. He was going to ask Steve for help with the proposal when Bucky eventually figured out how to ask, but hadn’t gotten around to it before it all went to shit, “So nobody knows what the reason is…”

Steve nodded slowly, “Well… none of us know. But there is one person who does.”

Bucky groaned a little again and rubs his hand along his face, “God, I really hate John Walker.”

—

Y/N dealt with the wave of incoming traumas from the apartment building fire, running point on sorting patients by the degree of their injuries to create a steady flow in the operating room and emergency room. Once everything had died down, Y/N sat in the attending’s lounge eating a sandwich and starting to go through yellow folder from her backpack. There were photos of Y/N with Bucky and some of her with Steve and Peggy as well of her with John. There were also photos of her while she was deployed mostly doing silly poses in the middle of nowhere. She placed the photos back into the folder and pulled out the two notebooks next. They were leather-bound full sized journals. She opened the first one that looked just a bit more well used, figuring it was the first one. Her brow furrowed when she turned to the first page. It was dated at the top, May 15, 2019 but the rest of the page looked like the words had been gone over with permanent marker. Y/N turned to the next page and the next but for about ten pages over the next ten days from May 15th, all the words had been scribbled over with permanent marker, “Well, that’s just great.” She mutters out to herself softly, “Thanks me. Super helpful.”

Y/N finally found a page with actual words instead of just a page of black marker, the date read May 25th, 2019. It was filled with the words repeating ‘I am not my trauma.’ over and over again until the last line that read:

I’ll forget the piece that was taken away from me.

She frowned a little. What trauma did this refer to? What had happened? She turns the page quickly to read the next page.

May 26th, 2019

I leave in eleven days.

I want more than anything to call him. I don’t know what I would say. How do I explain what happened. Where do I begin?

He told me if I leave to never come back. That he won’t be waiting for me.

A part of me knows that’s a lie. I know he’d be there with open arms if he knew what happened.

I found that ring after all…

Y/N had to read the line over again a few times. Ring? There was a ring?

But how would he feel if he knew how ruined I was?

His sun swallowed into a dark pit.

He loves me. And I don’t think I’m me anymore.

Nobody wants broken things.

May 28th, 2019

I want to feel safe again.

They say writing down what I feel is going to ground me to reality. They also said I should call somebody. I can’t do that. I can’t let them know how much I hurt. I just want to run as far away as possible and that’s what I’ll do. I need to get out of here. It feels like I can’t breathe and everywhere I look I’m met with eyes filled with pity. It makes everything worse the way they look at me and stare. I get released tomorrow, I’m signing out AMA. Then it’s just nine more days. Maybe it’ll replace my trauma with a different trauma. Anything would be better than this.

I miss Bucky. I miss running my fingers through his hair and the way his stubble would brush against my skin. I miss being in his arms the most. They were so safe like nothing could ever hurt me. I wish I would’ve stayed then none of this would’ve happened. We could’ve just fought about it then go to bed and sort it out until I left. At least then I would’ve felt save and would’ve been safe.

I think the worst part about our fight was that I knew about the ring. I found it in his boxer drawer when putting away his laundry. You’d figure he would’ve picked a better hiding spot, but nope. He’s never been good at hiding things from me. I was halfway expecting him to propose when I showed him my deployment papers so we both had something to look forward to when I came back. I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he did. After all, James Buchanan Barnes is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. But that’s not what happened. And here I am stuck in pain and guilt.

Y/N shut the book when she heard someone come in, wiping away some tears she hadn’t noticed falling from her cheeks. She looks over and put on her best smile for Chief Miller, “Afternoon, Chief.”

Miller had his hands tucked in his pockets, “Everything okay, Y/N?” He asks gently, nothing the tear brimmed eyes.

Y/N nodded, keeping the same smile on her face, “Yeah, everything’s good. A friend brought me some journals to see if they’ll help me remember. It’s just confusing and a lot to read.” She said softly, “Were you looking for me?”

Miller nodded at her words, “I’m sorry, that must be hard.” He said with a reassuring smile, “I was just getting all your medical records transferred over and one was locked from a hospital in Queens. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to unlock it so we have that information on file in case it’s needed in the future.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, her brow pulling together in confusion, “I don’t remember what the nature of that visit would be… Did it have a date? I can call the doctor from the hospital to get it unlocked if I know the date.”

“May 14th, 2019.” Miller replied, “The doctors name I think was Wanda Maximoff.”

Y/N nodded slowly at the date. It was the day before her journal started with the scribbled out pages. She pushed the journal into her backpack, “Thanks, Chief. I’ll give them a call.” She said with a small smile before standing and leaving the room. She found an empty office with a computer, googling the hospital in Queens and asking for Dr. Maximoff.

“This is Dr. Maximoff.” A woman with an accent said over the phone when Y/N was connected.

“Hi, this is Dr. Rogers from Brooklyn Mercy. I was calling about a locked file in my health records.”

“Oh, Y/N! How have you been? Are you back from deployment?”

“Been better… And yes, I am. I was calling because a medical report of mine from May 14, 2019 is sealed and I don’t remember the nature of the visit. I lost a lot of my memories due to an incident overseas and I’m trying to put pieces together.”

“I see.. I’m so sorry to hear that. Our hospital isn’t too far from Brooklyn Mercy, I think we should talk about this in person given the situation. I’ll drive down and meet you in about forty-five minutes, would that work?”

“That’d be perfect, thank you Dr. Maximoff.” Y/N said before enhancing goodbyes and hanging up. It felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest with how fast it was racing and she felt sick to her stomach as she tried to remember what happened. Whatever happened, it was bad enough that Dr. Maximoff was coming to tell her in person.

Y/N asked Chief Miller if he would be there when she went over the information with Maximoff, wanting some sort of support in case whatever happened was really bad. She kept adjusting herself in the chair in front of Chief Miller, nervous for whatever information was about to come out. She put on a small smile when Dr. Maximoff came into the office holding a medical file, shaking her hand and watching her take a seat in the chair next to her, “Nice to meet you again, Dr. Maximoff.”

“Oh call me Wanda. And again, I’m very sorry about your memory loss. I want to start by saying that we have support groups I can recommend after we talk about this information. Given that you don’t remember, it is possible you’ll go through all the emotions and grief again.” Wanda said before placing the file on Chief Miller’s desk and opening it slowly, “The night of May 14th, 2019 paramedics responded to an accident involving two vehicles. You were in one of them. It was determined the other driver was driving under the influence and had a large amount of alcohol in his system.”

Y/N nodded slowly, watching Wanda instead of looking at the file. Her eyes were full of kindness, even maybe a little pity, “What happened to the drunk driver?”

“He died in surgery. With the amount of alcohol in his system, the bleeding couldn’t be controlled and the damage was too severe.” Wanda said before continuing, “It was later determined that he was going forty miles per hour over the speed limit and from your statement, he was driving down the wrong side of the road with his headlights off. You didn’t see him coming until it was too late.”

“How bad was it?” Y/N asks softly, picking at her fingers nervously as she listened.

Wanda sighs, flipping through pages of the file on Chief Miller’s desk, “You sustained abdominal bleeding, two fractured ribs, and superficial lacerations that our head of plastic surgery took care of which is why there is no scarring. You made me promise not to call your emergency contacts.” Wanda paused, observing Y/N’s reaction but she was just sitting there nodding, “We took blood samples to cross match your blood so we couldn’t have to keep giving you O-negative blood. Those blood tests showed trace amounts of the hCG hormone. After we took care of the abdominal bleeding, you miscarried from stress. You didn’t know you were pregnant. You asked me to seal the records of the accident and you signed yourself out against medical advice.”

Y/N took a deep ragged breath, looking down at the floor in shock. The writings in the journal were making sense. She could hear Chief Miller and Wanda asking if she was okay but they sounded distant and like they were underwater. Flashes started coming back in her mind of that night. She was driving down the road back to her hotel she was staying at, crying and listening to sad songs on the radio when the crash happened. Y/N put her hand on her chest as her breathing became more erratic, it was like she couldn’t get enough air. She could see Wanda and Miller trying to ask if she was okay and calm her down but their voices were so different and everything around her was swaying. She remembered sitting in a hospital bed and crying over the news and the guilt she felt for leaving the safety of Bucky, “Can’t breathe…” She whispers out, trying to stand slowly from the chair. Y/N remembered the day after it happened, Wanda brought the journals to her hoping it would help to write what she was feeling since she wouldn’t contact anybody. She remembered the grief she felt as well as the shock and pain. This was the reason she didn’t come back to Bucky and avoided him, she didn’t know what to tell him. The world was swaying like she was on a boat and it felt like she was underwater, unable to get air in her lungs or hear the muffled sounds coming from Chief Miller and Wanda. She stumbled around at the room spinning, blinking rapidly before the world around her started fading to black and she fell onto the floor.

——

Steve, Peggy, and Bucky were still all trying to figure out events that lead up to Y/N running away a month before her deployment, trying to think of any clues that would help put the puzzle pieces together.

Steve’s phone starting ringing and he excused himself from the conversation to take the call, “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Doctor Miller, Chief of Surgery over at Brooklyn Mercy. Is this Steve Rogers, Y/N’s brother?”

“This is Steve. Is everything alright?” “Yes, everything is alright. I’m just giving you a call to ask you to come in. Your sister had a pretty serious panic attack and lost consciousness. I think it would be good if you came in.”

“What? Yeah, I’m on my way.” Steve said, walking back into the kitchen, “We have to go, Y/N’s been admitted to the hospital for a panic attack.”

Bucky frowns, “Probably read those damn journals.” He growled out, turning immediately and walking out the front door to his motorcycle and speeding down the road towards the hospital with Peggy and Steve right behind him in their car.

When they arrived at the hospital, Chief Miller was waiting for them at the front doors. He lead them up to the room Y/N was in where she was talking to Wanda with the door closed and crying, pulling an oxygen mask up to her mouth every so often. Bucky looked through the window to the room before noticing that none other than John Walker was standing a little bit away from the room leaning against the wall with a frown. Bucky immediately felt rage consume him, stomping over to John and pushing him against the wall, “What were in those journals?!” He yelled before landing a punch to John’s cheek.

John winced at the hit and pushed Bucky away from him, “She knew about the ring, asshole! She thought you were going to propose that night but instead you broke up with her!”

Chief Miller and Steve quickly pulled the two apart, Miller holding John back while Steve held Bucky back, “That’s not what it was about! Now knock if off before I call security.” Chief Miller said, moving to stand between the men, “Due to her privacy, I can’t tell you what it was but it wasn’t about a ring.”

“She knew about the ring?” Bucky said, wide eyed as he processed the words. No wonder she had been so mad at him and what he had said. She thought she was coming home to a potential proposal and instead he told her if she left to never come back.

Peggy had separated herself from all the testosterone and walked into the room Y/N was in, shutting the door behind her, “I’m Peggy, her sister-in-law.” She told Wanda before she took a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently taking her head, “Are you okay, honey?”

Y/N shook her head rapidly, keeping the oxygen mask pressed to her mouth and nose as she cried into it. She remembered the pain when Wanda had told her she miscarried and feeling alone due to the fight she had with Bucky. It was the reason she had ran- she didn’t feel like she had a home to go back to and she wouldn’t know what Bucky would think if she told him she had lost their child. All Bucky had wanted was to grow up and have a family with her and she ruined that. Her gaze set on Bucky through the window and she pulled the blanket on her legs up over her head, sobbing loudly underneath the blanket. How could she even look at him knowing what she knew now?

Wanda got up to close the blinds in the window before returning the chair placed next to the bed, “Y/N,” Wanda asks gently, reaching out a hand to rest reassuringly on Y/N’s leg over the blanket, “You’ve dealt with this pain alone for a long time and you’re going through it again like it’s fresh. You should talk to someone about it, you need support.”

Y/N pulled the blanket off her head at the sound of the blinds shutting, looking at Wanda through her blurry tear filled eyes, “I can’t…You… You tell Peggy… I can’t… I can’t.” She sobbed out, dropping the oxygen mask to her lap and putting her face in her hands.

Wanda looks over to Peggy who was eyeing her curiously, “The night of May 14th, 2019 Y/N was brought in after her car was hit by a drunk driver. We took care of all the injuries… But we found out she was about six weeks pregnant. Due to the stress of her injuries and the stress she was already under, she miscarried.”

Peggy’s jaw dropped at the news, slowly looking over to Y/N. She quickly adjusted herself on the bed to scoot closer to Y/N, pulling her into a secure hug and stroking her hair softly, “Shh… It’s okay… I’m so sorry, honey…I’m here…” She soothed gently. It all made sense of why Y/N didn’t come back before she was deployed and why she never talked to Bucky.

Eventually Wanda offered a light sedation for Y/N since she couldn’t stop crying and keep her breathing under control. Y/N drifted off to sleep from the sedative, her mind finally calming but the ache in her body didn’t fade. When she opened her eyes, it was nighttime. She looked over to the window to see Peggy and Steve talking to Wanda and Chief Miller outside of the room. Her attention was take when she felt a soft squeeze of her hand, looking over and seeing Bucky sitting in the chair staring at her with a small smile. The sight of him almost made her break again, pulling her hand out of his grasp and pulling the blanket up over her head to hide from his face.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky said with a small frown when she hid away from him under the blanket, “Baby, come on look at me. Talk to me.” He pleaded, trying to pull the blanket away from her face, “What happened, doll?”

Y.N eventually quit fighting the tug of war with the blanket, letting him pull it away from her face. She didn’t meet his gaze though, staring into her lap as tears started to roll down her face. She was amazed she still had any water left in her body to cry, “I can’t… You should go…”

“Fuck that, darlin. I’m not going anywhere when you’re crying.” Bucky told her, moving himself from the chair to sit by her bedside. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaning close and kissing her temple softly, “Talk to me, please.”

“I can’t.” Y/N replied, still not meeting his gaze as she shook her head, “I was finally feeling like everything was right in the world… Like I was back where I belonged with you… Safe.” She took in a sharp breath, releasing it slowly, “Now, it’s just all going to be ruined again. We’ll be ruined. You’ll leave.”

Bucky’s frown deepened at her words as scenarios ran through his mind of what Y/N could be talking about, studying her features intently, “No we won’t. I told you that you are the love of my life, Y/N. Nothing is going to change that.” He told her, moving his position to take her face in his hand and forcing her to look at him, “Now talk to me.”

Y/N stared at Bucky for what felt like forever, studying his face. She wondered what would reflect back to her in his eyes when she told him. Right now his eyes were pooled with concern for her but once she would tell him, they knew that concern would leave, “The night we fought… May seventh right?” She watched him nod, “On May fourteenth I was driving and I was hit by a drunk driver. I was taken to a hospital in Queens where I was treated.” She watched the concern grow in his eyes at her words, “I didn’t know I was six weeks pregnant and I lost the baby… Our baby… I would’ve came back if I knew, never left… But after I couldn’t come back to you.”

Bucky’s mouth parted slightly at the words, his eyes moving across the features of her face watching the tears leak down her face. He hadn’t even noticed his own tears starting to fall at the news. Guilt raked through his body at the words he had said that made her leave, put her in that position to get hurt. It would have never happened if he would’ve swallowed his own fear and anger at her deployment. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug, “I’m so sorry, doll.” He said through his own shaky breathes, trying to control his breathing as he cried, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did this, it’s my fault… I’m so sorry.”

_____________________________________________________________Taglist: @vicmc624 @buckypops @shawnie--jo @ahahafudge @intothesoul @austynparksandpizza @stcrryslibrary

Shout out to @shawnie--jo for having a big brain and guessing correct (:

If I missed anybody on the taglist or you would like to be added, send me a quick message, comment, or ask. Thank you for the support (:

[prettyboyreid]

can you read to me? (III)

(part one) (part two)

Even after a silly fight, the reader can’t seem to go to sleep without Matthew next to her.

College!Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 3681

The next few days seemed to drone on and on. 

Finals.  Lunch.  Finals.  Studying. 

It was an endless cycle that felt like it would never end for you.  Thankfully, on Friday, you had a ticket back home for Christmas break, which had just been delayed two days due to the snowy, icy New York weather.  The bad part was that it was only Wednesday.

You hadn’t talked to Matthew since Monday.  The second time you had seen him in almost a month, and you had fought yet again.  You wanted to talk to him again - you could hardly sleep without listening to him talk - but God you didn’t know if you could handle another argument. 

You were in the middle of reviewing for your chemistry final (thankfully, the last science class you might ever need to take) when the door to your dorm creaked open slowly and steadily.  Your roommate, Mia, peeked her head through the crack in the door, giving you a soft smile once she saw you look up from the laptop.

“Hey,” she said in a gentle voice, stepping fully into the room once you returned the smile.  “The end of the semester party is tonight.  Do you want to go with me?” she asked you, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the door.

You gave her a simple shrug, closing the laptop as you turned your full attention to her.  “I don’t know, I have to study for my final,” you began to explain, letting out a huff of breath at the thought of studying stoichiometry or the periodic table for another second.  She frowned, moving to sit on the edge of your bed before resting her hand on your duvet-covered leg.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked, giving you a sympathetic look.  It wasn’t too hard for her to figure out that it had something to do with Matthew; he had been in our room practically every day since we started dating freshman year, and now she hadn’t seen him in three weeks.  You used to not be able to shut up about him and any of his weird quirks; you had hardly spoken, especially since Monday.  She was good at reading people - there was no question about that - but it didn’t take a genius to figure out your heart was slowly breaking during what was supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year. 

You sighed heavily, pushing away from your small, cluttered desk and rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands.  “He, uh… we got into a fight,” you told her, looking down at your lap a bit as she rested a comforting hand on top of yours.  “He got pissed at me for hanging out with Jack a couple weeks back, and I got pissed about him hanging out with Lydia, so we hadn’t talked in two weeks.  I, uh, couldn’t sleep Sunday night and I went down to his room, and it seemed fine, then when I went to talk to him later…” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to talk about one of the people that irked you the worst in the world.  “... Lydia was in his room, and he told me she tried to kiss him when we weren’t talking,” you told her softly, your voice trailing off a bit as you thought more and more about it.

The past few days, you pushed it to the back of your mind.  You didn’t want to think about either of them, the way Lydia made you second-guess every second Matthew went back to his room and went back home for break, and the way Matthew used to make you feel, the same things that used to give you butterflies now making you want to vomit at the first thought of him. 

“Shit, I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N,” was all your roommate managed out after a few silent moments.   You didn’t think Mia would know much about this sort of thing - she had never  been one for relationships, especially ones that lasted as long as yours and Matthew’s.  But, to your surprise, she was always able to make you feel better about anything that happened in your relationship.  This, as you had suspected, was no different. 

“How about we get you out of the dorm tonight.  You’re almost done with your finals, and you leave in two days.  You could use a little down time,” she coaxed, nudging your shoulder playfully with a wide grin.  

The thought was tempting.  You didn’t want to spend one of your last winters at New York University wallowing in self-pity; it wasn’t exactly your first choice of past times.

“Fine,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.  “But we have to be back before one; my last final is at ten A.M. tomorrow and I can’t be late for it,” you told her, and her face lit up with a smile.  

“Great!  That’s perfect.  I’ll stay sober so you can let loose a little bit.  God knows you deserve it,” she said, winking at you before standing up from her chair.  “Wear that red shirt that makes your boobs look good!” she called to you from the doorway, presumably going down the hall to get ready with some of her friends.  You laughed softly but nodded, giving her a soft smile as she turned to head out the door. 

-

The second you made your way through the threshold of the fraternity house that hosted the party, a drink was thrusted into your hand.  Mia took hers happily, handing it over to you.  “You need it more than me,” she grinned, dumping the blue tinted liquid into your solo cup before tossing the empty cup into a nearby garbage can. 

You looked around the packed room for a moment, shoving your free hand in the back pocket of your jeans while Mia began talking with the first person that she noticed who came into her peripheral vision.  You couldn’t say you were too surprised with this - she was much more social than you were.  

You found yourself wandering around the first floor of the house, tapping your fingertips against your leg to the beat of whatever song was blaring through the speakers.  The longer you stood meandering through the packed house, however, the more you realized this really was the last place that you wanted to be. 

You still sipped from the drink as you made your way up the steps of the house, hoping to find a bit of solitude from the sleazy frat boys and the girls who were only being nice because they were intoxicated.  You sat down on the top step of the carpeted staircase, taking a long sip of your drink before you practically felt yourself jumping out of your skin at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Y/N?”

You turned around, probably much quicker than you should have, only to see Matthew towering over you.  The bags under his eyes had returned, and he had a cup in his hand that looked much more empty than your own.  You stood up a bit and chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering whether or not the best place to talk was in the middle of a sweaty and loud fraternity house.  

“Hey, Matthew,” you said softly, scratching at the back of your neck somewhat anxiously.  You didn’t know what you were supposed to say to him - it felt like it was wrong to even be in the same house as him right now. 

He looked down into his cup when you spoke to him, as if he was trying to avoid the situation at hand.  But you knew Matthew Gubler better than anyone else, and you knew he definitely wanted to fix things right now. 

“I-I’m really sorry about everything that happened with Lydia,” he said honestly, though it came out so quickly you were sure you had misheard him at first.  You just nodded in response, taking another sip of your drink as you tried to turn your focus to anyone - anything - else that you could see. 

You saw him frown a little bit at that, and he looked down to his feet again.  You followed his gaze for a brief moment, and fought back the urge to smile when you noticed his mix-matched socks - one of them red with black stripes, the other purple with blue polka dots sprayed all over them. 

“I know you are,” you told him after a few silent moments, still keeping your concentration on the ground in front of you.  For some reason, now it felt almost too nerve-wracking to even look at him, like you had never known him.  Was it a bit dramatic?  Maybe, but the Matthew that you knew wouldn’t have acted the way he had the past few weeks. 

You didn’t even want to think about it more than you have been the past two nights.  

He stayed silent for a few more minutes, dragging his fingertips and nails across the grooves embedded in the plastic solo cup in his hand. He looked to you again when he finally found the words that he needed, running his hand back through his hair.  “Do you want to… do you want to go back and talk about it a bit?” he asked softly, swirling his drink around in his cup a bit.  

Right now, the last place you wanted to be was where Lydia had been.  But at the same time, it was the only place you really wanted to be, like it was the only place you thought you would be okay.  

You just nodded after a few moments and set your cup down on the thick wooden banister, shoving your hands into your pockets before walking down the steps, assuming Matthew was hardy two steps behind you.

The walk back to the dorm building was almost eerily quiet.  The only sound you could hear, or probably just register, was the loud crunching of the freshly fallen snow beneath yours and Matthew’s feet.  You didn’t really need to look back to him to make sure he was following you, you just knew he was.  

You flashed your school ID card over the scanner before walking into the building, heading up towards the elevator and pressing the button to go up.  Once you stepped into the elevator cart, everything seemed to get  even quieter.  You could swear you could hear your heart beating in your chest, the cart moving much slower than usual.

Floor one.

Floor two.

Floor three.

Floor four. 

Floor five. 

With a short ding, the large metal doors finally peeled apart, and you let out a heavy sigh.  The ride up felt like a chore, and you could practically feel yourself getting claustrophobic trying not to look or speak to Matthew.  

You led him down to the end of the hall, opposite of his dorm, and pulled your keys out of your pocket.  You felt his eyes on you - not in a weird way, though it gave you butterflies when that was the last thing you wanted to feel at that moment. 

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, hanging your keys up on a hook beside your door and flicking on the lights.  It looked much more empty than it usually did, given you and your roommate were mostly packed up to go home for a month.  You had duffel bags and suitcases scattered around the room, along with a few grocery bags so none of your snacks would expire while you were gone. 

After a few moments of silence, you turned back to Matthew with your arms folded across your chest.  “What?  What did you have to say?” you asked him, your words coming off much more harsher than you really intended them to be.

You watched a twitch of a frown flash across his lips before his lips pressed into a flat line, sitting down on Mia’s bed, across from where you were standing at the moment.  He looked like he was mulling over every single possible word he could say to you in his head, but he didn’t know which was best.  He looked up at you after a few moments, wring his hands out in his lap as he took a deep intake of breath.

“I’m really sorry.”

Your nose twitched a bit as you listened to him, letting out a heavy breath through your nose.  You had heard him say he was sorry before, why was this time supposed to be any different?  

“Sorry?” you asked with a bit of a scoff.  “You’re sorry that you kissed another girl while you thought we were still together?” 

“I didn’t kiss her first!” he defended himself, running his hands down his dark blue jeans as he shook his head a bit.  “I don’t know what else you want me to say about it, I am sorry.  I didn’t want to kiss her,” he told you, the words rolling off of his tongue as if each syllable took a weight off his shoulders. 

You huffed out again and kicked off your shoes, shoving them under your bed as you listened to him.  “Why would you invite her over if she kissed you, then?” you asked, sitting down on your bed and folding your hands together in your lap.  You weren’t sure whether or not you really wanted the answer to that question, but you looked to him expectantly and waited for his excuse for your question. 

As you expected, he was silent for a few moments.  Much longer than you would’ve liked, in fact.  But eventually, he quietly spoke up with the same answer you had heard before.  “I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t,” you frowned, looking over at your desk where you still had a picture of the two of you framed in the far corner of it.  

“I’m sorry, okay?  It was stupid.  I shouldn’t have even talked to her after that.  I shouldn’t have let her into my room and I should’ve just let her be after she kissed me.  I don’t know what else I can do to make this better,” he told you, running his hands back through his hair and tugging a bit on the ends of it.  

You looked down at your socks as you listened to him, trying to shake the thought of everything that had happened.  You didn’t want to forgive him, and you really shouldn’t, but you knew he pushed her off.  

But he also let her in afterwards.

“I’m sorry.  She asked how everything was going with you, and I wanted to tell her what was happening since we were going to lunch, and she just… she kind of made her way in, I guess?” he tried to explain, letting his hands do some of the talking as he tried to clear the situation.  

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, checking the time on your alarm clock before sighing, going over to one of your duffel bags and pulling out a pair of sweatpants.  You changed out of your jeans and into the sweats quickly, pulling your hair up into a loose ponytail before pulling the comforter on your bed back and looking over to him.  “Come on,” you said softly, nodding towards the bed.  

He furrowed his eyebrows together as he watched her, but still slowly stood up and made his way over to her.  “You… you’re not mad?” he asked, kicking off his Converse shoes before carefully climbing into the small bed.  

“I don’t know what I am right now,” you confessed, getting in the bed next to him.  “But I haven’t slept well in over two weeks, and I know you haven’t either, and I’d rather get one good sleep before I go home than spend the night arguing,” you told him, flicking off the light next to your bed before resting your head on his chest.

He nodded softly, sinking down a bit so he was lying flat on his back so the two of you could be more comfortable.  “What do you want me to read to you?” he asked quietly, looking up at the ceiling as he waited silently and patiently for your response. 

“Can you read Annabel Lee again?” you asked quietly, letting your eyes adjust slowly to the darkness around you as he cleared his throat a bit, knowing he was focusing on the ceiling so he wouldn’t forget anything. 

“It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me…”

You let your eyes slowly close as his voice slowly lulled you to sleep, worried you wouldn’t even be able to stay up for the rest of the poem.

 “I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

 “And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.”

His long, slender fingers eventually found their way to your hair, pushing some loose, fallen strands from your face as he spoke.  The words rolled easily off his tongue, like he didn’t even have to think about them.  

 “The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

 “But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;”

His voice was much more rigid and stoic than the last time he recited the poem to you, like he was reading from the pages the first time he read it to you.  Like he was detached, like he almost… didn’t care as much as he used to. 

“For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.”

You looked carefully up at him, making sure not to disturb him, before frowning a bit.  His face was focused on your ceiling, almost looking bored, like he had better places to be.  You sighed and rested your head on his chest, slowly but surely falling into another slumber.  

 -

By the time you woke up a few hours later, you couldn’t help but frown at the lack of warmth surrounding you.  You rubbed tiredly at your eyes as you looked around the empty room, seeing your roommate had already cleared out for break. 

You looked to your side, seeing an empty bed that differed from what you saw last night.  You sat up and leaned back against your pillows, before you caught sight of a loose piece of paper on your desk. 

You reached over and grabbed it, smiling sadly when you saw the scrawled, curly handwriting that spelled out your name on the front of it.  You carefully unfolded it, your smile quirking down into a glower when you saw what the letter wrote.

“Y/N,

I love you.  I really, really do.  

But now isn’t a great time for either of us.  

I can’t put you through what you’ve gone through the past two weeks over all of Christmas break.  I don’t want to make you have to deal with all of that again. 

I’m sorry I left without saying anything, but my flight was early and I couldn’t miss it; my mom wanted me home tonight for a big family dinner.

If you want to talk over break, you know my number, and you can call me whenever.  I’ll always answer.  

I love you, my Annabel Lee. 

(In the totally not necrophiliac way)

     Matthew <3”

You couldn’t help but frown as you read it, but shoved the flimsy paper into your back pocket.  You didn’t want to think about what he had written, or even think about him at all.  You just packed up the last of your clothes that you would need for the month, pushing down the pictures of you and Matthew, or just Matthew, whenever you came across them in your room.  

When you finally packed up, you grabbed all of your bags and brought them out into the hall, setting them down on the ground as you locked up.  As you did, however, you couldn’t help but frown as you found yourself looking down towards the other end of the hall, hoping to see Matthew coming out of his dorm all of a sudden, laughing and being happy like he usually was. 

But instead, you were met with a dark hall, piles of snow mounted on the windows darkening the hallways.  It almost made you feel sick, the way the light seemed to drain out of your entire life the second Matthew was gone.  

As you walked down the hall to the elevators, you silently wished that you could go back and change everything, make it all right. 

But you knew it was too late. 

------

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[peaceoutofthepieces]

chapter 16

The Stars Look Very Different

Social Media AU

previous chapter

this isn’t proofread because I literally just finished it so...I hope you like ❤️

tag list: @yellowballoon @cleocc @skaming-myself @boldlydeepestcupcake @pduwd @notallthereyall @gingerhead007 @groeneweiden @nyttvera @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @curiouskopf @engelkeijsers @xiaomailab @honeyandsinn @lauren-bk @saraben00 @tailsbeth @boysrunaway @howlingsaturn @menamesniall

~^~

Sander was nervous.

Really, nervous was an understatement.

He’s gone through the whole day with an erratic heartbeat and sweaty palms, counting down the hours. He was sure he would combust before the time even came. The only thing that stopped him was the idea of Robbe waiting for him, growing more and more restless as the minutes passed, eventually leaving on his own. Sander couldn’t have that.

More than anything, he was excited.

It pricked and sparked under his skin, urging him onwards, incredibly impatient. There was nothing in his head but Robbe. He was struggling to comprehend it. It didn’t seem possible that he was being allowed to see him again—that Robbe himself had requested it. None of it seemed possible. None of it seemed real.

It was also the only thing that was clear to Sander. His feelings for Robbe, his desire to see him, his need to talk to him at all times.

It might not have been real, but as long as Sander got to live in the fantasy long enough to see this night through, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He had to admit, though, that he cared a little when Robbe finally came into sight and he short-circuited for just a small moment.

Was he really going to do this?

“Hey, Robbe!”

He was.

Robbe found him in an instant, eyes catching and lips tweaking up in a smile. They held their usual element of danger, and it left a thrill thrumming through Sander’s stomach. But there was something else, hidden behind the glint. Something softer, curious. Something that almost resembled excitement. It set the thrill on fire.

Robbe hopped down off the wall when Sander came close enough, cocking his head as he examined him. Sander felt a little ridiculous, suddenly, wearing his leather jacket and Doc Martens, while Robbe wore his usual ensemble of hoodie and sweatpants and his signature brown coat. He was beautiful, all russet curls and doe eyes and smirks. Sander carefully bit down the urge to tell him so.

Though he was very tempted to see how Robbe would react.

“Nice,” Robbe commented, finally, simply. He turned and took a few steps backwards, nodding his head to the side in a gesture for Sander to follow.

This time, Sander didn’t question him.

“How did you get out past Lucas?”

Robbe shrugged. “Didn’t have to. He’s gone out with Jens.”

Sander’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t give them any explanation?”

“Sander,” Robbe snorted. “They might not even come back. And if they do, they’ll assume I’m asleep and continue on in their own little bubble. Don’t worry.”

Sander focused on the two syllables of his name in Robbe’s light, lilting voice and didn’t worry about it. “Are you at least going to tell me if it’s far? You could’ve told me to where walking shoes.”

Robbe snuck another glance at him and shook his head. “What would be the fun in that?”

Sander groaned in response and Robbe finally took pity on him, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not far. You’ll manage. You have longer legs and everything.”

Robbe finally grinned, and though it was teasing and left Sander narrowing his eyes in response, it also sent his heart flapping around in his ribcage. He didn’t care where they were going or how far it was. He was already with Robbe, and that was already enough.

Still, he was glad when it didn’t even take another ten minutes of walking before Robbe turned off into a darker street and beckoned Sander after him once more. Sander followed slowly, lightening his steps. The air seemed to grow quieter, even though they had already been walking through mostly empty streets. They were rounding a large brick building, plain and worn with all the windows dark, looking as if it hadn’t seen life in years. Robbe went right to the back door before taking a paperclip out of his pocket and sliding it into the lock.

Sander’s eyes widened and he took a step closer to him. “*Robbe.”

“Shhh,” Robbe hissed back.

Sander lowered his voice to the same tone. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m opening the door.”

“Robbe,” Sander tried again. Robbe ignored him, continuing his work, and it only took a few seconds before the lock popped and he swung the door open.

He looked around at Sander and raised his brows, holding the door open and sweeping his arm through. “Babies first.”

Sander pulled a face at him and didn’t move, sneaking a hesitant glance into the darkness. Robbe slipped his phone out of his pocket and shone the small flashlight through the door.

Then he held out his hand.

Sander stared at it, pulse kicking up. Robbe wiggled his fingers. Sander reached out to grasp them.

Aside from the tight squeeze Robbe initially gave, his grip was unexpectedly light. Sander hadn’t quite prepared himself for the gentle touch, or for the uptick of Robbe’s lips seconds later. Devious and sparkling, maybe, but pleased nonetheless. He took a small step backwards into the dark and rugged Sander with him. “Come.”

Sander went.

The building was cold, and Sander was glad for the thick hoodie under his jacket and the warmth of Robbe’s palm, pressing closer against his as he guided him through an empty room. Sander shuffled his phone out of his own pocket, but Robbe stopped him before he could turn on the torch. He waved his own light at another doorway, and Sander watched on, intrigued, as he swung it open with ease. Sander was left mourning the loss of his touch as he turned around to shine the torch on the wall, illuminating a light switch.

He gave Sander a cheshire grin and flicked it on.

The ceiling hummed with energy before six long overhead lights flickered to life, dull and dirty but enough to illuminate the expanse of the larger room in a yellow glow. The larger room that was filled with statue upon statue, sculptures filling the spaces in between. It was the sides of the room that took Sander by surprise—where painting upon painting lay stacked together, all in different styles and mediums and colours, all eye-catchingly beautiful.

Sander stared and stared and forgot that Robbe was watching him. He forgot to school his expression out of the automatic awe it fell into, lips parting and eyes widening and heart hammering. It was something right out of a dream.

“How?”

Robbe was examining him closely, he knew, but Sander still couldn’t look at him, still hadn’t taken everything in. “It’s just an old warehouse. This stuff has been here for years. I think it’s all pieces that got kicked out of the museums, some others from the college, some that people just wanted to store and then forgot about. Just, left here. All abandoned.”

Sander finally looked at him to find that he was now examining the room, gazing upon the art with something akin to sympathy. “All beautiful,” he said quietly.

Robbe looked back at him, and a new understanding passed silently between them. “You’re an artist, aren’t you?”

It was really unfair, how Robbe had managed to do this. Sander had worried, in brief moments before speaking to Robbe, if his feelings were misplaced. If he’d fabricated his own fantasy into a little too nice of a picture, of the reasons for his intrigue were unreasonable. It had only gotten worse, last month, the month before; but the feelings had stuck.

Then Robbe had come to him, and he’d left Sander even more smitten than before.

“You wanna admire, then?” Robbe raised a brow.

I’m already admiring.

Sander took a few careful steps towards the closest sculpture, a twisted mass of wires that he couldn’t quite figure out but enjoyed nonetheless. He did a slow lap of it before moving on, to a sculpture of a man curled around himself, body locked tight and head bowed, hidden. Sander crouched down next to it, allowing himself to reach out and skim his fingertips over the ridges. “I wish I had my camera.”

“Wait.”

He looked up and watched Robbe reach into his pocket, before he pulled out a small disposable camera. He held it up, then tossed it to Sander before stuffing his hands back in his pockets. Sander examined the object and laughed. “Cute.”

Robbe rolled his eyes, but he’d spent the past ten minutes smiling.

Sander ducked his head to hide his own grin and snapped a photo of the statue.

He took his time wandering around the room, and Robbe let him, following quietly. Sander would admire, and Robbe would joke (“it’s metaphorical, how he’s standing under an invisible weight”; “he’s taking an invisible shit”), and it all felt too easy. It was all too good to be true.

Robbe pushed the camera down when Sander pointed it at him, and while Sander expected to be told off, Robbe merely said, “Don’t use it all up yet. I have one more surprise.”

Sander blinked at him and was granted another grin. His heart fluttered as Robbe retook his hand.

“Come.”

Robbe led him to the corner of the back corner of the room, where it opened into a small hallway. They walked to the end and turned into a stairwell. Robbe let go of his hand and winked at him before leading the way down. Sander allowed himself to admire him as he followed, cataloguing all the bumps and shadows of his curls, how his coat swallowed his thin shoulders but his sweatpants hugged his legs. Then his thoughts turned silly, turned to thinking about how he wanted to hug Robbe himself, and he shook himself out of it before the other boy could notice.

There was another door at the bottom, heavier than the others, and Robbe had to press his whole side together to shove it open. Sander did his best to bite back his laugh. Robbe glared over his shoulder at him anyway.

Once Robbe flicked on this light switch, however, all thoughts of laughter left Sander as his breath wooshed out of him.

This space was a maze of gray, stone walls overlapping and interconnecting.

Or it would be, if the entire space wasn’t covered in dozens of pieces of brilliantly bright graffiti.

“Robbe,” Sander breathed. “What?”

Robbe waved at the space, watching him carefully. “You’re an artist, but this is your favourite kind of art. Isn’t it?”

Sander could have kissed him.

He swallowed, and then his lips were curling into a grin. They stared each other down, and Robbe’s eyes widened in understanding just a second before Sander took off, racing for a gap in the walls.

“You’re such a child,” Robbe yelled after him, but he was already chasing.

Sander laughed and kept going, whipping around corners and whizzing past bright bursts of orange and blue and red and green and every colour in between. He didn’t even bother pausing to take it all in. It was already enough to know he was surrounded by it, encased in the whirl of colours, and that Robbe was right behind him.

Until he wasn’t, because he was right in front of him.

Sander skidded to a stop, breathless, and reveled in Robbe’s hands catching his chest, in the laugh spilling out of him as he looked up at Sander. He liked Robbe most, like this. Softer, brightened, smiling. When it became obvious that he wasn’t pushing Sander away, that he’d taken a moment to trust him enough that he didn’t have to hide himself.

The smile smoothed out slowly as Sander continued to stare at him, and he grew suddenly more serious, tongue poking out to lick over his lip for a split second before he dropped his hands from Sander’s chest.

“You didn’t believe that I know you as well as you know me, right?” Robbe asked.

Suddenly, it clicked.

“Well, for example,” Robbe started, “I know that you’re also a bit of an insomniac. I know you’re an art cliche, and you especially like graffiti, even though that just might be a thrill thing. Your best friends are Noor Bauwens and Lucas Van Der Heiden. Noor is your best best-friend while Lucas is almost like an older brother, who is also dating my best friend and who I also now live with because of reasons. You’re a tease. You do this weird little snort instead of laughing and it would be funny if it wasn’t so cute. You never take off your ring.”

He nodded at Sander’s hand, and Sander brought his hands together to twist the ring around his finger before looking back up at Robbe. It shouldn’t have been possible, with them having been already toe to toe, but he seemed even closer than before.

“And I don’t know this yet,” Robbe continued quietly, eyes dropping to Sander’s lips. “But I’m willing to bet that you’re a fucking good kisser.”

Sander’s breath stopped.

It was hard to think, with Robbe looking at him like that, with Robbe so close, so he kept his thoughts simple. He ran through all their texts messages, the ease with which their conversations flowed, the lightness of the jibes passed between them. He ran through their first proper meeting, when he could do nothing but stare at Robbe and hear his blood rushing in his ears, thinking that it was too soon even as he berated himself for not meeting him sooner. He ran through the months before that, when all he could do was watch Robbe from afar and tamp down the need in him, the desire to seek that thrill more than he wanted to do anything else.

He ran through this night up until now, when the nerves were spilling and spiking through each of his veins before he set his eyes on Robbe and it all slipped away. When he’d finally understood their plans, and he hadn’t bothered to hide his surprise or his overexcitement that always came with setting his eyes on art. When he’d thought of muting his joy to a more acceptable level, so as not to affect Robbe’s possible feelings for him, and then he’d quickly tossed it aside.

He didn’t need to hide either, with Robbe. He didn’t have to be nervous. With Robbe, he was enigmatic and unabashed and alive. He wasn’t a problem to solve or a case to crack or a pity project.

With Robbe, he was known.

Robbe’s hands moved to his cheeks as Sander’s found their place on his waist, and Robbe pushed up on his toes as Sander leaned down and their lips met in the middle.

And Sander breathed.

It was nothing and everything like he’d imagined. Meaning he’d expected defensive, edgy, tight-lipped Robbe to be harsh and he wasn’t, and he’d expected it to bliss and it was.

Robbe’s lips were soft and slow, but demanding, taking everything Sander had to give and still going back for more; though he gave just as much in return. His hands had found their way around Sander, one sliding into his hair and the other wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in until they were pressed together from head to toe.

It still wasn’t close enough.

Sander was vibrating. Sander was floating. Sander was on fire.

He was dying.

He’d never felt more alive.

Sander—Sander was kissing someone.

Sander was kissing Robbe.

Sander was kissing someone and that someone was Robbe and Robbe was kissing him back.

They parted for air. Well, Robbe did; Sander didn’t need it. Air wasn’t important. Getting his lips back on Robbe’s was. Robbe allowed it, and Sander hadn’t even realised his lips had turned up in a grin and that Sander himself had mimicked it, and that kissing was quite impossible when one didn’t have complete control over their mouth.

Then Robbe scratched through his hair, and made a noise like an aborted giggle, and Sander pulled back to rest their heads together and sneak a kiss to his nose.

Robbe’s nose wrinkled in response, so Sander kissed it again.

Robbe nudged their lips together once more, brief, and then mumbled, “Thank fuck I was right.”

Sander snorted. “Would have been a deal-breaker for you, would it?”

Robbe hummed, tilting his head side to side, but he kissed Sander again and Sander forgot to care about anything else.

~^~

next chapter

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

Episode 4. If You're A Masochist

Putting your phone away after posting your latest update, you look around one more time for either of your cousins. The oldest, Ren, had left you with his brother Shin, strictly telling him not to leave you alone before he met back up with you both. But then you convinced Shin to call the car and drop off the bags you'd overloaded him with, agreeing to meet back here this cute café. It had been pretty easy to convince him, seeing as how you could barely make him out over the bags and boxes of items you'd bought for your friends and family back home. It was fair play, after all, you'd brought just as many gifts with you for your cousins here when you'd arrived.

Smiling as you tip the cup of coffee up to your lips, you consider if you've harassed him enough for the day or if you should top it off by ordering him something he'll hate just to see that distressed look on his face. He deserves it for the prank he pulled on you a few days ago, when they picked you up from the station, literally scaring you half silly when he snuck up from behind you, grabbed you, and started to run. You were pretty worried because not a single person in the busy terminal had tried to stop him even though you were clearly (momentarily) terrified and not aware of who had 'kidnapped' you until he'd finally put you down. You guess you should have expected this with him though, given you both have always messed around with each other, pulling fun pranks and stupid stunts, since the two of you were kids, but you'd gotten completely complacent since you'd last seen these oh so lovely cousins of yours.

If there was any doubt on whether you had any payback planned for Ren, well, he was the one who'd grabbed not only your bags but also several pictures of your embarrassing slip in composure, i.e. your briefly terrified face, and shared it with the world. So yeah, you were sure he was sleeping with an eye open for the time being, which is why you would call on your considerable patience before hitting him subtly and satisfyingly when he least expected it.

With that in mind, you head back to the counter to place another order and then ask if there are any specialty dessert shops in the area. Happy to hear of one pretty close, you're sure you'll be able to quickly head over and back before Shin returns.

The shop is as incredible as promised because it only takes them about ten minutes to prepare your custom order of mochi with a spicy twist. Trying one out, you can't help but enjoy the sweet flavour and texture even if you're disappointed that it doesn't seem to have the effect you were hoping for, until you feel the heat slowly build the more you chew. Oh. Oh my. Oh my g- Mouth burning, you quickly gulp at the coffee still in your hand to try and relieve the pain. Okay so.. it's perfect! Cue evil laugh.

You thank the brilliant artisans, because that's what they are, and promise to leave a review on your way out. It's not until you're walking by an alley (how typical, right?) between shops on your way back to the cat café, that you're pulled from your thoughts of not-so-sweet revenge.

"Give it up, kid." It's nothing alarming at first. Not until you hear the next cry.

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

Um. What?

You've stopped even before you turn your head to look in at a couple older guys surrounding a little kid. Seriously, what's with the cliché? You honestly thought this only happened in anime but you guess dummies always prove people wrong.

Debating who you should call, because you're not going to assume adding yourself to the equation alone is going to be any help, you quickly look around only to realize that the only people passing by near or across the street either don't seem to care, or aren't the kind of people you'd feel comfortable asking for any assistance from. People can call you out on stereotyping but really, where's the kind but strong elderly gentleman or tough, no nonsense, do-gooder woman when you need one??

"Hey!" The tears in the kid's voice draw you back, with your head whipping around to witness one of the bullies reach out to grab his collar. Quick kid, he manages to dodge even if barely but he's about to be blindsided by one of the other guys.

You don't even have time to sigh at your stupidity as you run up between them as fast as you can, slapping the second guy's hand away from where it was reaching for the kid's arm.

With that loud sound and dramatic entrance, all eyes are now on you, but the element of surprise does provide enough time for you to pull the boy behind you and back the two of you up a bit so you're both not completely surrounded.

Okay, this kid barely reaches over your hip, he can't be older than about 6 or 7 maybe, what's he doing here alone?

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The first guy that had tried to grab the kid's collar studies you. You want to say his voice is annoying or that he's an ugly creep but he's just an average guy of about a few years older than you. The only distinct feature are his glasses and that's probably because you don't typically think of wannabe thugs in glasses. Again, so sue you for you conventional stereotypes, but you're in a kind of delicate situation to be worried about thinking inside the box.

"Why don't you tell me," You shoot back, pretty upset about this pathetic tableau, "since it looks like three guys old enough to know better than to bully little kids."

The third guy hasn't done much until now but he laughs at your statement and, okay, at least his laugh is kind of annoying, like a dumb donkey's braying. You hope he's trying to fake an evil laugh or something and that's not his real one? Seriously, it sounds forced and fake so you hope for his sake it really is or no one will trust him once they hear it if that's all he has to work with for the rest of his life. You're tempted to say that to his face, but you've also been told by your friends that your reckless impulses tend to escalate the situation when you need the opposite so you hold back.

Because you're outnumbered. With only a crying kid at your back, quite too literally.

"Oh no, we're not bullying him. He's my kid brother, you know? We were just messing with him since he was being a brat and grabbed the new games we just bought."

You hesitate, thinking it over. Did you make assumptions and jump in too fast? He didn't call out for help or say anything specific to indicate he didn't know these guys. You don't want to turn away to look him over, but he had been holding something clutched against his side.

You feel a little hand clench into the back of your dress and a couple tugs follow, so without turning away, you cast your gaze down and meet teary hazel eyes that are peering up with a little hope among the fear, "He's lying, oneesan, I don't know them."

"Ahh, stop lying and dragging the nice, pretty girl into this." Second guy speaks up, trying to reach around you to grab the kid, but you quickly shift the both of you back a bit more. You realize the wall is just behind you, if the kid's gasping sob means anything. You're out of space to maneuver.

So...you're in a tough spot, you've got your hands literally full and you're up against three guys that are definitely living up to your first impression of them. You don't really have time to think it over as 'glasses' loses patience and reaches for you directly, grabbing your arm that's holding the trick mochi and trying to pull you forward. "What's this? Maybe we should take it for the trouble you've added by interfering in a family issue."

"How about this instead?" And before you can pity the loss, you've thumbed off the lid to your delicious hot coffee that you guess won't get to finish drinking, and toss it in his face.

"Arhggh!" Wow, high pitched for a tough guy, but you really can't think about that right now. Goodbye, coffee, your sacrifice is appreciated.

"What the hell, you crazy b-"

"Don't bother, dumbass, it's probably not hot enough to permanently scar him at this point." True story, you like your coffee cooled down more than most.

They're staring at you like you're crazy but it's really just the recklessness you're known for. Although you should have held on to that reminder of your friends' warnings that ran through your head earlier because the situation has definitely been escalated if the mean, hateful looks that are appearing from behind their fake polite masks are anything to go by. They clearly weren't even trying that hard to pretend. While the second guy is supporting his friend who's flailing, 'Fake laugh' reaches for you, this time angled for the collar of your dress or even your neck, "You stupid bitch."

Oh okay. Well, I'm so sorry for my impertinence, god. This is payback for the mochi prank, isn't it? You actually roll your eyes upwards for a split second with that thought.

Then you prepare to drop the maybe-unlucky box for the coming fight but just before his hand reaches you, another suddenly shoots out and grabs it. Hard.

"Don't you know how to treat women, buddy?" Wow, now that's a nice voice.

Shifting your eyes to your left without turning your head, you catch sight of a handsome bedheaded guy about your age. You would probably be all heart eyes in any other situation- who are you kidding? This is literally the perfect situation.

"I don't think he does, but that's probably because he has zero experience with them." Yay, your mouth can run freely with your attitude now that you have some back up. Not that it stopped you earlier, though..

This new guy shifts his gaze to meet yours and looks pretty surprised at your smirky smile (yes you're calling it that). Why so surprised though? You guess you should have been crying or even praising this god for stepping in. Whatever, he's just a boy. Even if he is drool worthy.

He studies you and pauses briefly on the redness marking your wrist from where one of the guys had grabbed you and then his golden eyes flick down to the boy hidden behind you before focusing a steady stare back on the bullies, "I think you should leave before I really get pissed off."

He must be a magician because they vanish pretty fast after his low declaration, supporting their friend who's managed to wipe most of your precious coffee off of his slightly reddened face. Looks like, he'll live to be a dumbass another day. Could've told them that and avoided the escalation. Oh wait, you pretty much did, right?

The guy is turning back to you after watching them leave the alley and you reach for the little kid with the hand that once held your coffee. Feeling his little hand slip into yours, you start to walk the two of you towards the street while keeping your body angled so you don't completely turn your back on this new guy. You swear the amount of times you've had a situation like this turn into something unexpected is a little unnatural. "Wow. Well... Thank you, stranger, for your help."

He narrows those stunning eyes on you but you don't think he's angry, just a little confused for a moment, before he realizes you're equally wary of him. He moves out of the alley after you both, but thankfully not too closely, because you have to turn your back on him so you don't trip or walk into anyone once you reach the main street.

"It's Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsuro."

You silently startle around at the sound of his voice coming from a lot closer to you than expected but compose yourself quickly so as not to offend him by whirling around in alarm.

"Oh, uh.. nice to meet you." Okay, you both should be safe now. You turn back to face him and the kid is now glued to your side, tiny hands gripping your dress with both hands, one at your back and one at the front. At least it's not silk because that would leave quite the wrinkles. "Anyways... we have to get going now to find whoever lost this little guy."

His arm moves up, rubbing his hand in his hair at the back of his sheepishly tilted head. Probably can't get his hair any messier at this point. "That would be me."

"What?" You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. Always the unlikeliest odds with you and really, what are they anyways here in this situation? But it turns out he's not kidding and you're not misunderstanding.

"I'm the one who lost him. That's my little cousin you're trying to walk away with."

"Hey!" You protest his teasing implication, before looking down at the boy. The other guys tried this too, though.

So you delicately crouch down (aware you're in a dress and heeled ankle boots that could spell impending disaster if you lose your balance) to make sure you're at eye level with the kid. He's not crying anymore, but not looking happy or relieved either. Just staring back at you steadily, a little like the calm gaze of this other guy, actually, but let's not go with confirmation bias. Maybe he's just not an overly excitable kid to begin with.

"Do you know this guy?" You ask softly. He told the truth before, under the stress of a pretty scary situation, after all.

He looks over and up at the tall teen claiming to be his cousin before nodding. "Oh." You give the little boy a reassuring smile before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Can I ask your name?"

And when you turn your ear to him so he can whisper a reply, you hear, "Itsuki."

Giving him another sweet smile, you stand back up and he's glommed right back onto your side. You meet the bedhead's eyes with your own slightly narrowed but steady too, and settle on a serious expression with an eyebrow raised. He hasn't looked away from you even once but that's fair considering you might actually be trying to take away his little cousin... whom he's lost already once today, if we're all being honest.

"What's his name?"

He raises an eyebrow to match yours, stance indicating he's in no rush but expression definitely amused, "You mean Itsuki?"

"Yeah.. okay, then." You look back down at the boy who's reluctantly releasing you as Kuroo moves closer to you both, your smile back on my face. "It was really nice to meet you, Itsuki. Thank you for being so brave and strong back there. I couldn't have sent those bullies away without you!"

"Or me?" Kuroo asks but it's not really a question more like an amused statement sliding into remind you that he did save you both in the end. Isn't he a little too close for politeness?

"I suppose." Now you have tilt your head back to look at him again. Argh, why is it like a compulsion to just stare your life away when you look into those eyes? "Thank you, then.. Kuroo."

"Not that you needed my help." Ohh, he's smirking at you and it. is. something. "You looked like you were mostly holding your own before I stepped in."

You laugh, because he's really just being nice and you don't know what expression your face might make after seeing his smirk if you don't pick amusement, "Pretty sure it was painfully obvious who brought the most advantage on our side if it came to a fight... and it wasn't me."

"Oya? Our side, huh? And what's your criteria for assessing that advantage?"

And before you can stop yourself, his question has you looking him up and down like.. like you're checking him out. Cue your blush. Ugh. You pass it off and try to push through, "What? I'm not supposed to notice that you have the physical advantage over me?"

Yeah, you worded that deliberately and wouldn't change it for anything because it's so worth it to see the red lightly tint his own cheeks. Yeah, I see your thoughts went there.

"Anyways," You start to step backwards, "Really, thank you."

You turn away to walk over to the coffee shop just another door down.

"Wait," You look over to see both Itsuki and Kuroo catch up to you quickly, the latter now holding on to the former gently but firmly, "I should be thanking you. You did step in to help my cousin when not many others would."

"Oya?" You copy his cute phrase with a look at him from the corner of your eyes and a teasing smile of your own, "How do you know he didn't step in to help me?"

"Somehow I doubt that." The three of you come to a stop in front of the coffee shop and Kuroo's distracted for a second, "Wait, this is your stop?"

"Yeah, why?"

He chuckles, "Ours too. We'd just stopped in here ourselves when Itsuki wandered away." We?

"Oh, I was here a little earlier too, but I needed to grab.." You lift the box, ".. this, for someone. I left my order here though."

"You lose your coffee often or just an addict?"

"Haha. Neither. It's... a thing. You'd think I'm horrible if I explain."

"I doubt I'd ever think that at this point. Can I pay for your new order and you can tell me about it over your next cup? You know, as a thank you for putting yourself in a dangerous situation for my cousin." Why does he make that sound both grateful and like a stern admonishment at the same time?

"I covered it already and it wasn't really for me. But I really appreciate the offe-"

You're cut off by the door opening and Shin bursting through with a very exasperated look on his face. Whoops, guess you took too long. He immediately starts complaining, "Where have you been?! Imagine my worry when I arrive here and you're gone! You promised you'd wait here."

Another guy has walked out behind him but you ignore that because you see that Shin's holding the drink you got him, but that has your name on it, and can't help but point out both literally and dryly, "Clearly so worried, you picked up my order in the meantime?"

"Hey, there are two drinks so I figured one was mine! But they're both awful!" Of course he tried them both. His face turns into a sad pout, "Why would you order such sour drinks when you know I hate them! And I know you do too! So... do you really hate me for that little thing? You've been so mean today."

You chuckle because this is literally the perfect opportunity. Well, actually, Kuroo is still standing by politely with Itsuki, watching you both with interest, but that other guy has walked up to them and is now also standing there. Is he gaming out here? Never mind.

You give Kuroo an apologetic smile with a finger held up to indicate you'll be a moment and then turn back to offer the box you've been holding onto this whole time to your dear cousin. "I can't imagine why you'd feel that way, but I did get you this, too. You can't have it all though, it's also for Ren."

He reaches for the box when you pop it open and happily exclaims, "Mochi? Aw, I take it back, you're the best!" before proceeding to pop two in his mouth. Oh. Uh-oh.

Okay then, closing the box, you walk back over to Kuroo as Shin happily munches away behind you. "Sorry, yes, I appreciate the offer but as you can see, I have my hands full with-"

"Ahhh! OMG, my mouth is burning!!! What is this?" Is he crying? He's definitely chugging that 'horrible' drink. "I take it back that I took it back. You do hate me. And for what?! I'm sorry I tried to kidnap you, okay?! Ahhh! Make it stop-"

He keeps rambling, even while alternating between choking down the sour drink and pausing for quick panting breaths every now and then, as tears actually run down his face. Even the gamer boy is momentarily distracted watching. You can't help the satisfied smile that stretches across your face as you watch Shin dissolve into tortured agony from the corner of your eyes and finish your sentence "-a pretty troublesome commitment already."

Kuroo looks a little worried but definitely way more amused, "I thought that box was something really special, the way you held onto it the whole time."

"Yeah, even in exchange for my precious coffee-" You wipe away a pretend tear and swear he mutters 'so you are an addict' under his breath before you finish, "but it was worth the revenge, wouldn't you say?"

"Well... He tried to kidnap you?"

"Ugh, don't ask. It was a stupid prank that I briefly fell for. But I think he won't try getting me back for a while. At least a week of peace."

"So.. don't mess with you, is what I'm hearing."

You laugh at his accurate interpretation, "Pretty much. Or do, if you're a masochist."

He looks slightly awed and a whole lot intrigued when he states, "At first I thought you were some incredible angel.. but you're pretty much more an incredible devil, aren't you?

"Incredible, either way? I'll take it." You smirk, thinking of the irony he'll probably never understand.

"How about my request for a name?"

"Isn't it Kuroo Tetsuro?"

"I'm asking for your name, Kitten." He's a little exasperated and just a smidge embarrassed that you made him spell it out. I mean, you like that he's all witty and smooth but... you really like a guy's direct side, too.

You do still smile and tease a little more, "Kitten could work, given the irony..." He gives you an unamused look, but you were continuing anyway, "But since you asked so nicely.. I'm Y/-"

"Oi!" Ren is standing across the street with the car, door open, "I've been looking for you. It's time to go."

"Oh," You look back at Kuroo who's still looking at Ren a split second longer before focusing back on you, "I'm sorry, I have to go!" You smile at him apologetically then face Itsuki, slightly crouched, to give him a bright smile, "Bye Itsuki! Take care and don't wander off again!"

You don't have time to say anymore than those goodbyes to the pair of cousins before your own is dragging you away, cursing you out and swearing he'll get you back. He's listing a lot of pretty creative ideas, silly boy, you'll just use them before he can.

You check both sides of the road as he's pulling you across since it doesn't look like he's going to but you both make it safely to Ren who just gives the two of you a droll look. "You guys definitely didn't listen to me."

He didn't even pose it as a question. You just shrug and give him a kiss on the cheek before sliding into the back of the sleek car, followed by Shin and then Ren, who calls out to let the driver know to take you all home. Maybe you glance out the tinted windows to steal one last look at Kuroo before the car starts to move away. Maybe you see that he's looking too, he's staring at the car but his mouth is moving and when it stops, the gamer boy says something back.

The last thing you see before the car pulls away completely and you can't see anymore is Itsuki pulling Kuroo back towards the café and he takes one last look your way before heading inside with his friend following.

You turn back around, not realizing you'd shifted your whole body. Ren is looking at you oddly so you just raise an eyebrow at him, but smile when Shin happily exclaims, "Hey Ren, we got you some treats too!"

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Kuroo not only didn't get Y/n's name, but was pretty curious as to her close relationship with the two guys that we know as Shin and Ren

-If she had to measure, Y/n felt about the same level of attraction and connection with Kuroo as she did with Oikawa when she first bumped into him at the boba shop; he was interesting but still just a casual, fun encounter in the end

-Gamer boy was obviously Kenma, yeah?

-Is it funny for anyone else that Bokuto is liking or retweeting the posts about Y/n? Or is it just me because I clearly know too much?

-Itsuki is non-canon, if you weren't sure :(

A/N: I really like how this one turned out, I don't know why. It could have something to do with the fact that I've been a Kuroo simp the longest but I dunno, it just... flowed. And I barely even chewed over the edits.

Btw, if you guys ever see first-person POV (my, me, I, us, we) or 'Faye', it's probably a good time to restate that this started out as a purely self-indulgent imagining, which is why I write most seamlessly as myself in the scenarios. I then change it over to 'Y/n' and reader perspective during multiple levels of edits so you all can hopefully enjoy the story/scenarios too, but it can (and likely will) still slip through sometimes. Just let me know, and I'll fix it, thank you :) <3

Taglist: @delusivist

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 20

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15 

part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Part 19

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 20

NEXT

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“But MDC is still...” Alix started and suddenly realization dawned on her. She finally connected the dots. From there, she realized more and more. It was like she woke up from some trance. Image of utter fear and regret on her face was priceless. “No…“

Alix run out of class just as madame bustier entered. 

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

After the matter with Akumatized Alix crashed the classroom and was defeated by ladybug and her team, the classes were canceled. Marinette spent the afternoon with Damian, happy to crush him several times in Ultimate Mecha Strike and several other games.

“Can we play something else now?” He moaned as the big red defeat displayed on the screen. He convinced her to go to arcade to have more choice, which proved to be his biggest mistake. The girl decimated him in absolutely everything. 

“Oh. Ish baby shad that I win?” Marinette tried to imitate english babytalk, but it did not really work in her favor.

“I see no dishonor in losing to a titular champion.” Damian tried to defend his ego, but she only giggled.

“I have an offer for you. If you beat me in any game, you can choose what we do tomorrow.” She tried to motivate him.

“You want to repeat it?” He asked surprised.

“Yes silly. I really like you… I mean spending you with time… No wait! Timing with you spend… Spending time with you! I like spending time with you!” She finally shouted, getting some confused looks from people around. That is until they met Damian’s gaze and run away before Marinette could get more embarrassed.

“I was just kinda... surprised. Not even my brothers want to spend that much time with me.”

“They aren’t married to you now, are they?”

“Only you Angel.” Damian grinned as she blushed deep shade of red. “I challenge you for a dance.”

“What?” She asked confused.

“tt. Dance Off. The game. You asked me to challenge you for a game. That is what I choose.” He explained.

“I… never played before.” She said a bit shyly. 

“Is that a surrender?” He gave her a challenging look.

“Dream on.” She retorted and moved to the panels in the back. there were no people currently using it so they jumped on the platforms. 

Damian confidently got into stance while Marinette just copied him. One of Jagged Stone’s older songs started playing. While the boy immediately started to follow the rhythm and get the perfect score, Marinette clumsily tried to follow his footsteps. She was off balance and hardly following the keys. She missed every third one and never scored perfect. She would definitely loose. 

She stopped dancing and took one deep breath. She focused on the song instead of just pressing the buttons. When she started dancing, there was no more clumsiness or flailing hands while losing balance. She was confident, strong and she would totally kick Damian’s ass in this game just as well as in the others. 

As Damian danced, he kept perfect score. If not for the fact that she’s beaten him in every single other game in this arcade, he would actually pity his wife. At least until she started to get perfect score too. Suddenly, they were moving in perfect synch with music and each other. A crowd gathered around them. People were cheering for them. He was pretty sure he heard some wolf whistles from the boys in the back that were directed to Marinette and he was pretty tempted to drop the game and just throw some things at them. Maybe exploding batarangs. Yeah. That would work… 

By the time they were getting to the final, Damian had a quite firm lead. Then, he heard someone from the crowd actually dare to call some slurs at Marinette and got distracted. It was something along the lines “I want to see your other moves”, He only slipped for a moment, hitting several wrong buttons while getting up, but Marinette got in the lead by mere ten points. She was completely unfazed by the cries and words of the crowd. It was like she was in her own world. Damian caught himself staring at her instead of dancing so he doubled the effort. In the end, she still won. 

“Yeah! You go babe! I want to...” Damian saw red. It was the same guy as before. He jumped over the railing that kept players from falling off the stage and punched the guy mid-air square in the face. There was a cracking sound and the idiot fell down with bloodied nose. The crowd dispersed as if it was never there.

Immediately, almost half a dozen of other guys appeared around to support their mate. 

“Now you just got yourself a problem boy.” One of them commented.

“Actually…” A new voice joined the ‘discussion’. “I think your friend is the one in trouble. He was calling my friend here some very inappropriate names and suggesting several less than legal things.” Alix rolled into the sight.

“So since the girl can’t take some compliments! Doesn’t mean he can punch our friend.”

“He is her boyfriend who was defending her from an elderly man. She is underage so get lost before I call the police.” Alix threatened them. While the idiots were distracted, Damian took the opportunity to grab normal dusters and put them on his fists. He was ready for a fight. The fact that this tugs didn’t pull knives or guns already was close to a miracle. If it was Gotham, he would have a gang-fight on his hands ready and set. 

“Sowwy madame.” The one with broken nose spoke, showing that he also lost some teeth. “I was not awawe of that. You looked so full of confidence that I fowgot myself.” He apologized and got lost with his friends as per instructions. 

“Ugh! I swear they keep getting in trouble.” Alix complained to himself. Damian was suddenly in front of her. Because of her rollerblades she was taller so he had to look up. 

“Excuse me, but where from do you know this criminals?” He started to interrogate her.

“Calm down Short Stack.” She cooled him off. “My brother and I sometimes volunteer at the homeless center. They tend to come there from time to time. One of this guys even works there.” She explained. 

Marinette walked to the scene and practically pulled away the still fuming Damian. “Thanks for the assist Alix.” There was an awkward silence interrupted only by Damian’s breath. He was not tired, only angry. 

“No problem.” Skater girl finally shrugged. “Listen Mari. I wanted to… apologize. Lila is a liar and an idiot. I was even bigger idiot for believing her.”

“tt. My plan worked at least partially I see…” Damian commented.

“Your… plan?!” Marinette shouted at him. “I asked you specifically not to do that because we will have another scarlet moth at our hands!” 

“I think that is something the two of you should solve between yourself so I will leave you to it.” She was about to ride away, but Alix took one last look over the shoulder. “Are we cool MDC?”

“Yes Alix. Yes we are.” Marinette smiled before making an angry face at Damian. Alix chuckled and zoomed away.

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

Late in the night Red Robin, Ladybug and Robin met in the Wayne Enterprises headquarters. 

“Anything new on hawkmoth?” She asked. It was more than a month of them working separately but so far there was little they could do.

“Well, I think I tracked the Akumas to this general area.” He pointed to the holograph map of Paris.

“This is like one-fourth of the city!” Damian was less than amused.

“It is still something. At least Akuma appear on camera.” He said, reffering to the time when Tikki (convinced by Marinette) sneaked into the building to switch Tim’s coffee for the non-caf version so he would get some sleep. He didn’t forgive her to this day, but he would not take vengeance when mr. I-stab-anyone-who-harms-her was on the same continent, much less the same city. 

“So we are not really that close.” Ladybug sighted.

“I do have some suspects. Out of the people in Paris who were not akumatized only handful match the criteria. And then, if you eliminate those who are not living in the area, then you have… an empty list.” 

“So hawkmoth only owns a hide-out in this area.”

“That would be hard, unless he works from the sewers.” Red Robin zoomed on the area. “This is stricltly living space. Not even that many shops. I also don’t believe a shop owner would have time to attack the city on so many occasions. At least not while keeping a steady revenue.”

“So we have literally no clue?”

“Well, if you take in account that Hawkmoth could somehow akumatize himself, we do have one solid lead.”

“Who?” Ladybug was very eager to finally be done with all of this and return to being a normal teenage girl.

“Gabriel Agreste.” Red Robin displayed a profile picture of the artist for reference.

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu

[cavalierious-whim]

Pawfully Yours (FE3H)

FE3H | Sylvix | General | Complete

Sylvain finds a cat and falls in love.

  ###

A/N: I’m finally reposting some older stuff from my last tumblr blog. Read here on AO3 for better formatting! 

###

Sylvain has always been a dog person. There’s nothing quite like cuddling with a soft and warm ball of fluff or the heavy weight that sinks into the mattress on top of the blanket as you sleep, or inevitably getting drool in your mouth when you pull them close, crying into their fur as you vent your frustrations about your shitty life into the scruff of their neck.

Sylvain has no idea what that’s like. Not one bit.

When he moved to the city, he had to leave Daisy behind. Ingrid on the surface had made it seem that she was more than aggravated to have the Golden Retriever unloaded onto her. Sylvain knows better. Ingrid’s always had a soft spot for Daisy. She’d let the girl sleep in her bed on the occasional platonic sleepover. Dorothea didn’t even have that pleasure half of the time and she was the girlfriend.

It’s led to a rather quiet life and Sylvain is still adjusting to an empty apartment in the not-so-great-but-you-might-not-get-murdered side of town.

Three months into his new home is when he notices the cat. It’s a small thing with sleek black fur. It looks too healthy to be a stray, but judging on how the creature responds to those getting close, Sylvain doesn’t think that it has an owner either. It seems too proud to slum it as a pet, walking along the dingy alleyway that Sylvain cuts through as a shortcut to work, tail swishing and held high. Proud, even.

But then again, maybe that’s just a cat thing. Sylvain doesn’t know, he’s never really given a cat much thought. He doesn’t know why he decides to pity it.

One day, Sylvain brings a can of tuna and popping the top off, he sets it down on the ground. The cat watches him carefully from ten feet away, sitting on his haunches haughtily. Warily. Carefully composed.

“For you,” says Sylvain, not sure why he even bothers to speak to it. It’s a cat. Cats don’t understand humans. Even Daisy had never understood him, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she responded to just the sound of his voice, and not the content of his words.

Still, the cat seems unimpressed, large amber eyes half-lidded as it looks from the can of fish to Sylvain. And if Sylvain doesn’t know any better, that’s what he would think a frown looks like when spread across a feline face.

Sylvain frowns right back. “Well then,” he says. “I see that I’ve wasted my time. Never again.”

He’s wrong through. Sylvain cuts through the alley every single day, a soiled apron slung over his shoulder and a takeaway cup of coffee in his hand. And sometimes, he brings the dumb little cat an old and stale pastry from the shop, because there’s no harm if they’re just going to toss the old food, right?

Sylvain doesn’t stick around to see if the cat actually eats them or enjoys it, or if it just bats the food away with a hiss. He kinda wants to pet the thing though, because it’s fur looks soft and  Sylvain’s feeling lonelier and lonelier as the weeks pass by.

Eventually, he has the crazy idea of maybe adopting the pitiful thing. It’s like any other day that he’s posted up an offering. He breaks an old cheese pastry into several pieces and tosses them onto the ground. And this time, he waits, crouched down, elbows resting on his knees.

The cat comes closer, but it seems pissed off, body stiff and tail twitching angrily. Amber eyes narrowed in suspicion. He sniffs at the pastry and then snags a small bite. Then it spits out the food, clearly not a fan.

Sylvain swallows thickly. “So like, if you want a roof over your head or something, I can bring you home.”

The cat pauses like it understands him. It’d been pawing at the pastry, playing with it when it stops, head snapping up as it looks to Sylvain. Then the cat’s mouth opens, fangs long and sharp, and it says with surprising clarity, “Fuck off.”

#

Sylvain had imagined it, that was the only explanation. It makes more sense than a cat had opened his mouth and spoke to me. Anything makes more sense than that, so Sylvain chalks it up to too many shifts at the cafe, too many hours of schoolwork, and maybe a smidge of not eating enough.

He keeps cutting through the alleyway because it’s the fastest way to work. Sylvain’s a perpetual oversleeper, the kind that sets five alarms and sleeps through all of them, only to roll out of bed with five minutes to spare.

And he can spare that five minutes if he takes the back way, no matter how dark and creepy it seems at three in the morning and on the way to his early shift.

The cat’s made himself scarce. Sylvain now knows that it’s male because of the shockingly handsome voice it carries. More proof that he’d absolutely made the entire thing up in his lonely misery.

Sylvain doesn’t expect to feel sad about the disappearance of the cat, but it’d sunk in deeper than expected. Even if the cat had seemed eternally annoyed-- as far as a cat could seem at least-- he’d been cute, and Sylvain liked bringing it treats. There’s not a lot left that makes him feel good about himself.

That morning, Sylvain pauses because he’s got a moment. The alley is dark and there’s no sign of the cat. Sylvain sighs softly and says, “I’m sorry if I offended you or something. I just thought that maybe a home would be better than an old alley.”

It seems silly to talk to a cat, but he feels a little bit better and he continues to work with a little bit more pep in his step. And later that night he leaves a pastry behind, just in case.

The cat slinks out from under the dumpster once Sylvain’s out of sight. In his wake is a tuna roll, a fluffy pastry filled with tangy fish salad. The cat likes this one, not that he’d ever admit it.

#

Sylvain rarely works the night shift, mostly because he’d rather wake up at the butt crack of dawn and get his day over with. But sometimes it’s inevitable. Sometimes a coworker just needs a shift covered and Sylvain’s a nice enough guy to agree.

And he doesn’t want to risk getting fired, even if he doesn’t think Byleth is a vindictive manager.

It’s probably a bad idea to cut through the alley at ten at night, but Sylvain’s tired and weary, and he just wants to get home. Not to mention he’s got a container of day-old tuna salad in his hand that he needs to leave the cat, otherwise it’ll just wind up rotting away in his fridge.

He opens the container and places it on the asphalt near the dumpster, waiting for just a moment as he crouches down. Just in case the cat decides to show his face. He doesn’t. Sylvain frowns and with a sigh, pulls himself back up.

There’s a shuffling behind him and he turns to look, only to be slammed against the dumpster, head cracking against the hard metal. Sylvain’s vision swims as he tries to push against his attacker, but then he stops dead. There’s a knife held close to his neck. Sylvain can feel the soft scrape of it as he swallows.

“Wallet,” the man behind him says, a hand gripped tightly around Sylvain’s arm that’s wrenched behind him. He’s stockier in his build, pinning Sylvain against the dumpster easily.

“Hey look man--” The knife digs deeper into his skin, cutting just barely. Sylvain’s not dumb enough to push the situation further. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “Back pocket. My phone’s there too, opposite side.” A pause. “You know, just in case you want that as well.”

He can’t help the cheeky reply, but his assailant doesn’t seem to hear him as he rifles through his pockets. The man pulls the wallet from Sylvain’s pocket, flipping through it.

And then there’s a shout as the man is wrestled to the ground by someone else that Sylvain can’t see. There’s a scuffle, some odd yowling, and then the distinct sound of a punch, bones crunching sickly under the hit.

Sylvain stands stock still, still pressed against the dumpster, not moving. Just in case.

“Useless, aren’t you?” Sylvain freezes at the voice, taking in the acerbic tone. “It’s bad enough that you waltz through here every morning, but you should know better than to do it at this time of night.”

Sylvain turns but he doesn’t find the cat, he finds a man standing there instead, finely boned face tugged into a snarl. He shakes out his hand, knuckles already bruising from the solid hit that he’d gotten in. Sylvain blinks. He’s handsome in a feline sort of way, hard edges to his jaw and circles cut deeply underneath his eyes. His black hair is tied into a ponytail high on the crown of his head.

The man toes at the assailant who’s out cold on the ground. “I’d get out of here,” he says. Then he looks to Sylvain again, unimpressed. He stalks over to the container of tuna salad and toes at that too, lips pulled into a grimace of disgust. “Really, now. If you won’t eat it, what makes you think that I will?”

“Um--”

The man blinks slowly, catlike, and with subtle grace. “Do I need to explain it to you?”

“No,” says Sylvain quickly. “No, I just--” A pause as he rubs at his head. “The cat?”

“It’s not the cat ,” says the man with a snarl. “It’s Felix.”

“Felix,” Sylvain repeats.

“I won’t repeat myself.”

“Thanks,” Sylvain blurts. “For, you know.” He gestures to the man on the ground.

“It’s a one-time thing. I don’t reward stupidity,” says Felix as he picks up the container and tosses it into the dumpster. Then he looks to Sylvain again, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy blue hoodie. “I like the baked ones with the fish and cheese. They aren’t so bad a day past.”

Felix doesn’t meet Sylvain’s face, instead, stalking off without another word.

Sylvain smiles.

#

Sylvain leaves a pastry that he pilfers from the bin after every shift. It’s not always Felix’s favorite, but he doesn’t complain. Either way, they disappear into his belly, leaving Felix to lick his paws clean after a tasty meal.

He doesn’t turn into a man again, but he does walk Sylvain through the alley. And then sometimes further. If Felix follows him to the coffee shop, he knows that he’ll get a small lid of cream.

It’s a strange routine that concerns an even stranger man. What is Felix, Sylvain wonders? A cat? A man? Both? Neither? He’s real and solid as the day though, and Sylvain knows that he hadn’t hallucinated anything that’d happened.

When winter comes, Sylvain worries. It’s cold and crisp outside, not preferable for a street cat. He wonders if Felix has somewhere warm to sleep, which is why he eventually asks.

“Surely you can’t stay out here all season,” says Sylvain one night, as he watches Felix pull apart half a savory ham and cheese tart. He’s not sure if cats should eat one of those, but maybe with Felix, it’s different. The cat never complains.

Felix pauses mid-bite to look at Sylvain. Then he drops the tart, hisses lightly, and runs off. Sylvain blinks. An answer is an answer at least, and Sylvain stops asking.

#

One day, it snows. Gautier is a cold and dismal place in the winter, but the snow comes later that year than anyone expects. Sylvain’s wrapped head-to-toe in a heavy jacket, a scarf, and thermals.

Felix follows him to the coffee shop that morning and against Sylvain’s better judgment, he opens the door to the storage shed out behind the shop. “It’s not much,” says Sylvain, “but it’s not in the snow.”

Felix gives him a long look before bolting inside.

Later that day, Felix strolls into the shop as a man, walks up to the counter, and slaps five gold coins onto the counter. Sylvain stares at them and then back to Felix, who immediately bristles.

“I didn’t fucking steal them,” says Felix. “I have a job.”

That’s news to Sylvain and he can’t quite picture it. This is only the second time they’ve met face-to-face, but he has a distinct feeling that Felix isn’t a people person.

Felix points to the fish and cheese pastry in the case. “It’s my favorite.” There’s an awkward pause as he closes his eyes in a near wince and continues with, “Look, I need to talk with you about something, alright?”

Sylvain rings him up, throws in a free cup of coffee, and fifteen minutes later they’re settled into the soft armchairs near the back of the cafe. It’s cold and bitter out, so they’re alone.

“You once offered a home,” says Felix, his hands wrapped around a warm ceramic mug. Sylvain’s coworker Annette paints them and they never get used. Felix huddles closer to it though like he’s trying to leech the warmth from it. “Does that offer still stand?”

Sylvain’s mouth parts in surprise and Felix turns bright red, looking anywhere but his face. “Look, it doesn’t mean anything,” says Felix. “But it’s getting cold out and it’s hard to find somewhere to bed down for the night where I won’t freeze to death.”

“So, my apartment,” says Sylvain.

“I’d be a cat,” says Felix. “I’d stay out of your way. It’d be like I’m not even there.”

Sylvain frowns. “I offered because I wanted a pet.”

Felix bristles. “I’m not a--”

“I know,” says Sylvain quietly. “I wouldn’t ask you to be since you’re… well, you know.” But Sylvain doesn’t know, so he gestures to Felix vaguely. He’s still trying to figure Felix out.

Felix sighs. “It’s only for the winter,” he says. “You won’t see me like this much. It’s not easy to… well, it’s not preferable.” He leaves it at that, which piques Sylvain’s curiosity.

“You can have the entire couch to yourself,” says Sylvain, half in jest.

Felix finishes his coffee quietly and then stands. “I’ll think about it.”

And he must, because when Sylvain leaves his shift in the late afternoon, Felix follows him all the way home.

#

Felix is never a man, he’s always a cat. Sylvain thinks that he prefers being a feline, though he’s not sure why. When he comes home from work, Felix is often curled up next to the warm glow of the fireplace. He leaves it lit because Felix can handle whatever might happen if something bad does.

As winter passes, Felix moves closer. He’s less annoyed. He sits on the couch next to Sylvain, his tail twitching softly against Sylvain’s thigh. Sylvain talks to him about any and everything, and he knows that it’s probably annoying, but Felix hasn’t yet told him to stop. So he doesn’t.

Sylvain gifts him a collar on Yuletide as a joke. Felix stubbornly wears it, because he’s testy about the weirdest of things.

When the New Year comes, he’s a man again. They’re nestled into the couch, Felix having shoved his feet across Sylvain’s lap with a cursory glance. Sylvain immediately pulled them closer, kneading at his arches.

Neither of them thinks more of it. Or maybe they both think of everything about it. Felix is impossible to read, but Sylvain thinks that he’s starting to recognize his moods. Even the most ornery of cats can’t turn down softly placed affection.

Sylvain wonders if it’s weird to fall in love with a cat. It’s a momentary thought because then he remembers that Felix isn’t just a cat and that there’s probably weirder things out there than Sylvain’s love, or the cat that’s also a man.

They watch New Year’s festivities on the television.

“I hate the noise,” says Felix when the fireworks start. “Too loud.”

“It’s not so bad in the city,” says Sylvain, hands still wrapped around Felix’s cold feet.

“It’s the worst day of the year,” says Felix. “Everyone’s drunk beyond reason and they roam the streets doing shitty things. Like kicking cats.”

There’s a lot to unpack there and Sylvain looks at him. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s an earnest apology.

Felix huffs, lips curling into a sneer. But then it’s gone as he relaxes into the couch. “No, it’s--” A pause, the air pregnant between them. “I’m not out there tonight, so it’s okay.”

It’s not, because Felix isn’t the only street cat to ghost the streets of the city. Still. “You’re welcome,” says Sylvain, squeezing his feet lightly. Felix kicks at him just because he can.

#

Winter ends sooner than Sylvain likes, but Felix doesn’t leave. He seems intent on staying and neither of them says anything, even if he’s a man more than a cat nowadays. Felix disappears during the day for his proclaimed job. He even cooks dinner sometimes and those are the kind of nights that Sylvain likes to cherish because Felix gets weirdly soft.

There’s a weird morning as Sylvain’s about to shuffle out the front door and Felix stops him.

“Is there something wrong?” asks Sylvain.

Felix doesn’t immediately answer and when he does, he says, “Have a good day.”

Sylvain assumes the worst because it’s an old habit that he can’t quite break. “Oh shit, you’re leaving aren’t you? Felix, you should know by now that you’re welcome to stay--”

Felix grabs Sylvain by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him forward, pressing a kiss against his lips. It’s short. It’s a little bit sweet. Felix seems to have no idea what he’s doing. Sylvain loves it, hand reaching out to grasp at Felix’s elbow.

When Sylvain pulls back, he asks, “What was that for?”

Felix’s hackles raise, immediately on the defensive. “Whatever, it was--”

“It’s not a complaint,” says Sylvain simply. “I liked it. It also sends some confusing signals.”

“What could be confusing about a kiss?” asks Felix.

“You don’t seem the type to do that,” says Sylvain.

“I’m not.” Felix pulls away, brushing at Sylvain’s shoulder to distract himself.

Suddenly, Sylvain gets it. Felix isn’t good with feelings and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s really a cat-- or maybe it’s not that at all. Sylvain still hasn’t figured out the details of all that nonsense, nor has he asked Felix outright. But Felix seems the kind of person who’s a doer, not a thinker, so he did the only thing that he thought would send a clear message.

Or maybe Sylvain’s overthinking something that’s really quite simple in the end.

“I love you too,” says Sylvain quietly.

Felix’s hand pauses and Sylvain watches him swallow. “Fool,” says Felix, but it’s more affectionate than angry, his voice cracking sweetly as he tries to find his words.

Sylvain smiles, pulling him back for another kiss. It’s longer this time, but just as awkward. Felix sinks into it, fingers curling tightly into Sylvain’s jacket as they hover in the doorway. When they part again, Felix says, “What an absolute fool.”

“The most foolish,” says Sylvain.

There’s a beat as Felix stares back at him like he’s looking, really looking at Sylvain. Felix sees him. And for once, Sylvain doesn’t mind. He’s never liked people seeing him for who he is, but Felix is different. He’s wormed his way into his heart and Sylvain doesn’t want to let go.

“But I wonder,” asks Sylvain, “what’s that say about you?”

Felix could have reacted a hundred different ways. What he does is pull Sylvain closer again, pressing their foreheads together. “Obviously I’m an even bigger idiot.”

Sylvain laughs, before swooping in once more.

[lightsupinthenorth]

For the prompts, 46 + 91? 🙏❤️💕

Thank you so much for sending these sweetheart <3

I hope you’ll enjoy ;)

46. Dance with me + 91. That’s in the past

 If he had imagined how prom would go at the beginning of Junior year, Steve would have seen himself as Prom King, dancing  with whatever beautiful girl had been elected Queen before the admirative and envious eyes of their classmates.

 But Steve never imagined what Prom would be like, then, because he never thought he had to imagine it. It would just happen, and it would go swimmingly, because he was the King of Hawkins High and that was how everything went in his life, at that point.

 He had not foreseen that his entire kingdom would come crumbling down as it had. Gone were the ‘friends’ that acted as subjects, gone were the invitations to every party, gone were the popularity and the privileges it had brought.

 Nancy was gone, too, though it had more to do with Jonathan being a way better fit for her, and less to do with Steve’s eviction from his throne.  

 If anyone had predicted this to Steve the previous year, he would have laughed, not believing a word of it. And if he had believed it, because of some uncanny proof that the prediction would come true, he would have been terrified. He would have hidden it, of course, but the fear still would have been there, in his heart, making his chest tighten and his breath shorten.

 Thankfully, it had come out of nowhere. If there had been signs, Steve had not noticed any of them. And he was grateful for that, for his cluelessness. Because, worrying about his fall from grace would have been worrying about nothing.

 Because the fall had meant nothing, in the grand scheme of life. Sure, it had stung to see the ones he considered his friends abandoning him as soon as popularity had, changing his status from royalty to nobody. He had soon realized that he was better off without them, though. They weren’t real friends. They weren’t real, period. They only cared about appearances, and Steve strangely had no fuck to give about those anymore.

 He ended up going stag to the prom, and he wasn’t even ashamed of it… of third wheeling Nancy and Jonathan, his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. Despite the less than ideal circumstances, they turned out to be better friends to Steve than his followers ever were.

 So, when he went outside after chatting for a while and drinking some punch, he didn’t do it out of humiliation or self-pity. He just left to get a break, maybe smoke a cig or two, and let Nancy and Jonathan have some time on their own. They were too nice to ask for it, but Steve knew they’d be glad to be free of him for a moment

And maybe, just maybe… a small part of Steve needed a break because he couldn’t take staring at Billy Hargrove from across the gym, which had been tackily decorated for the occasion as it was every year without fail.

 Billy had come in with Tina on his arm. He had been wearing a dashing suit, complete with a bow tie and everything, but he had ditched the jacket barely ten minutes in, and the bow tie had closely followed. When Steve had last thrown a glance in his direction, Billy had been looking flushed, with his curls in disarray, his sleeves rolled up and half of the buttons of his shirt undone.

 How was Steve supposed to endure such a sight? It was straight up cruel. So, he decided to go somewhere he couldn’t see Billy anymore. Somewhere he could ignore how weak he was for the other boy.

 He had barely lit his second cigarette when he was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. He had chosen to go all the way around the building to be left alone and, obviously, it was a failure. But Steve had dealt with failure plenty of times before. One more time wouldn’t kill him.

 The fact that the intruder was no other than Billy Hargrove might do the trick, though. Steve really was the luckiest son of a bitch out there, these days... He sighed, bracing himself for Billy’s teasing (which would undoubtedly happen any minute).

 “Hey Harrington, can I bum one?” He asked, pointing at the pack of cigarettes laid on the floor, next to where Steve was sitting with his back against the brick wall and his legs bent at the knees.

“Sure, help yourself.” Steve replied, tearing his gaze away from Billy as he brought his lighter to the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

 After all, Steve had been adamant about not looking at him, and he ought to stick with that. For his own well-being.

 Anyway, Billy had just come here for a smoke. Now that he had what he had been looking for, he would be on his merry way.

 Steve thought he had Billy figured out, but he was proved wrong a second later, when Billy sat down next to him, holding his now lit cigarette in his left hand. He was so close that Steve could feel the heat of his body against his side and smell his strong cologne. It didn’t smell the same as it usually did. Maybe Billy had another one, one he reserved for special occasions. It was a strong scent, but Steve liked it. It had character. It suited Billy.

 “Why are you out there all alone, Pretty boy?”

 “I just wanted some fresh air.” Steve answered lamely, trying to focus on the smoke filling his lungs and not on Billy’s overwhelming presence.

 “I’m not sure smoking and fresh air are compatible, princess.”

 Steve shrugged. “Let’s say I came here for the peace and quiet, then.” He said, turning briefly toward Billy to give him a pointed look.

 Let him believe Steve didn’t want him there more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.

 Billy just blew his smoke in Steve’s face, like the asshole he was.

 “You want peace and quiet… On prom night? Where has King Steve gone?”

 Steve scoffed.

 “You’ve got some nerves, asking me that. As if you didn’t know.”

 Billy knew better than anyone where King Steve had gone. He’d been the one who had dethroned him the second (at least that was how it had felt like) he had set foot in town. The golden boy from California. He could drink more and quicker than Steve, he was better at basketball, he had more muscles, and he had a bad boy look that Steve and his polo shirts were no rivals for. Steve had not stood a chance against him. He was fine with it, though. He was not jealous. He knew what it was like, being King, and it wasn’t as nice as everyone made it out to be.

 “Do you miss it, being King?” Billy asked, stubbing out his cigarette on the concrete ground.

 “That’s in the past.” Was all Steve said to summarize the train of thought he had just had.

 He had not pulled on his cigarette in a while, preferring to watch it burn, the tip of it glowing brightly in the darkness.

 “Mmh… I guess it is. Though I bet half the chicks in that gym would sell their mother for a dance with you, King or no King.”

 “They wouldn’t need to go that far. Just asking would do.” Steve replied, choosing not to dwell on the fact that Billy was complimenting him, in a way.

 “And no one did?” Billy asked.

 “No…” Steve sighed, not because he was disappointed he had not been asked to dance, but because he was bracing himself for the mocking Billy would surely unleash upon him.

 “Well, it’s their loss.”

 Steve turned toward Billy again, surprised. Shocked, even. He wanted to try and decipher Billy’s expression, but Billy was facing forward, the sky was pitch dark, and the deem light filtering though the high windows of the gym barely changed anything.

 “What about you? What are you doing here with stupid old me when you should be dancing with your stunning date?”

 Steve had paid more attention to Billy than he had to Tina when they had made their entrance, but he wasn’t blind. He had noticed how gorgeous she was in her bright red gown. How could he have not, when she was the one who had won Billy’s favor.

 “I just wanted to chill.”

 Steve refrained from pointing out that “chilling” was very similar to “peace and quiet”, which Billy apparently found unfitting for a King.

 “Besides… Tina isn’t the one I want to dance with.”

 “Why did you ask her to be your date, then?”

 Steve frowned.

 “I didn’t, she was the one who asked me actually.” Billy supplied.

 Steve rolled his eyes. Details.

 “Well, why did you say yes instead of declining so you could invite who you really wanted?”

 “’Cause that person wasn’t an option, pretty boy.”

 Billy was now fidgeting with a button of his shirt, which threatened to come undone. He’d end up half-naked if he weren’t careful. Not that Steve would warn him about that risk. He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 “Bullshit. I’m sure anyone would have said yes.”

 Steve wouldn’t usually have complimented Billy so freely, afraid that it would be too telling. But Billy had said something in the same vein to him a few minutes before, so Steve deemed it acceptable.

 “Mh, I’m not so sure. It’s too late, anyway.”

 “No it’s not! The night is far from over, you could still ask your crush for a dance. Tina will probably be mad at you, but she’ll find a replacement, I’m sure.”

 Steve didn’t know why he was encouraging Billy to go after someone that wasn’t him. Maybe he simply wanted to see Billy happy, for a change.

 And yeah, maybe he had only used the word “crush” in the hope that Billy would roll his eyes and deny having a one. But it didn’t work, anyway: Billy didn’t deny anything.

 Something even better happened, though. Something so amazing that Steve was barely able to register it, at first.

 Instead of getting all offended for being accused of harboring something as silly as a “crush”, Billy blurted out:

 “Dance with me.”

 Billy’s tone suggested an invitation to fight, more than an invitation to dance, so Steve thought he had misheard. It was the only plausible explanation, right? Billy Hargrove had not just invited Steve to dance, right?

 “What?” He said dumbly, eyes as wide as saucers, mouth agape.

 “You heard me.”

 “Uh… was that a rehearsal for when you really ask the girl you want to dance with? Because, if so, you should try going about it a little less aggressively…”

 “Don’t play dumb, Steve.”

 Steve was not playing, was the thing.

 “If you don’t want to, just say so. You don’t need to spare my fucking feelings, or whatever.”

 Billy had spit out the word “feelings” like he would have an insult, which was funny considering the actual curse he had used had sounded softer in his mouth.

 “I do!”

 “Right, I’ll just go back inside...” Billy managed to sound both angry and defeated.

 Steve’s brain nearly short-circuited from the confusion elicited by Billy’s reaction, but then he realized how what he had said might have come across.

 “I mean, I do want to dance!” He nearly yelled, holding back a retreating Billy by grabbing one of his shirt lapels.

 Billy froze mid-gesture and then got back to his initial position.

 “Oh.”

 He didn’t say anything else, and Steve wondered if he had broken him. He certainly hoped not.

 He got up and extended his hand to Billy.

 “May I have this dance, Your Majesty.” Steve asked.

 Billy probably didn’t need the stroke to his ego, but Steve provided it wholeheartedly, nonetheless.

 Billy didn’t answer verbally, but his hand taking Steve’s offered one was answer enough.

 Steve pulled him up and put his hands on Billy’s waist. Shockingly, Billy didn’t fight it, placing his arms around Steve’s neck and letting Steve lead.  

 The music from inside was reaching them, albeit faintly. Steve could also hear the entrance door slamming from time to time, as well as the loud voices and shrill laughter of the group of girls having a conversation on the other side of the building, but it barely registered to him.

 Every ounce of his attention was on Billy and how he felt against him. He had a lot of questions to ask him, but they could wait. Soon, too soon, the song they were dancing to would end, and then prom would end too, a few hours later. After that night, they’d have all the time in the world to discuss what exactly had transpired. For now, Steve wanted to enjoy every second he got to hold Billy in his arms and be held in return.

 When Steve heard the last note, he reluctantly let go of his dance partner, but Billy’s arms tightened around him, preventing him from separating their embrace.

 “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to miss the prom King coronation?”

 Billy would most probably win. It would surely make an impression (and not a good one), if he was nowhere to be found when his name was called and his presence required on stage.

 “I don’t give a fuck, Steve. Now shut up and get back to it.”

 “Fine by me.”

 Steve put his hands back where they belonged and smiled, delighted that the brief moment he had tried so hard to make the best of just got extended for an undetermined amount of time.

 The tempo of the following song was far too fast for slow dancing, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care. And, clearly, neither did Billy.  

 Out there in the night, they had their own rhythm, their own music, their own world.

[fanfictionaries]

If I Didn’t Know Any Better - Cutthroat Challenge

Thank you again @sherrybaby14 for this lovely challenge! Very inspiring and gave me an opportunity to write a little Steve fluff! 

Prompt: Valentine’s dinner with Steve 

Sabotage One: Steve has to have a room filled with children’s toys. 

Sabotage Two: Can’t use the words yes/no/maybe or any synonym! 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x you / Steve Rogers x y/n

Summary: Who could have known that the only thing you needed to finally tell Steve how you feel would be a bottle of red wine and a room full of children’s toys? 

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, and MORE fluff! It’s my birthday, so I’m feeling fluffy. 

Words: 2k 

*** 

“I can’t believe I’ve never been to your place before Steve!” you gasped at the glory of the expansive apartment. Nestled in, on a quiet street in Brooklyn, the antique building was almost dream-like with its ivy-covered façade and large oak trees outside. The exposed brick walls and original hardwood floors paired well with the plush rugs and brown leather couch sat in the living room. Everything was clean lines, utilitarian, but with just the right amount of sentimentality to make it warm. Homey. The kitchen, with its ample-sized marble island lay open, giving it a small modern feel for such an otherwise outdated space. In a way, the apartment was the perfect reflection of Steve. Wonderful smells wafted from the oven and stovetop, leading you further in and past the tall super soldier holding the door open for you.

“Please, (Y/N), come on in,” laughed Steve, closing the door and following you towards the kitchen.

“Where is everyone? I thought for sure I was going to be the last one here,” you admitted sheepishly as you set down your bags and began to unpack the copious bottles of wine. You attempted to suppress a smile as you remembered the aghast expression on the checkers face when you’d placed ten bottles of red blend down on the conveyer belt.

“They didn’t tell you?” Steve questioned, picking up one of the bottles and examining the label.

“Tell me what?” you asked beginning to open cabinets, your heels clicking across the floor as you made yourself right at home, “Aha! There they are!” Stretching, you attempted to reach the wine glasses sitting dusty and unused at the top of the shelf.

“They’re not coming,” Steve reached above you, easily grabbing two. Swinging around in surprise, you were met with an expansive chest in your line of sight. Hello. You shook the strange and sudden thoughts forming around Steve’s chest from your head and wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress before reaching up and grabbing the glasses from his hands.

“What?! Why?” Placing the glasses on the countertop, you used a dish towel to wipe them free of dust before irritatedly opening one of the bottles.  

“Well, Nat finally managed to talk Bruce into doing something with her, and Sam and Bucky both managed to find dates at the last minute,” Steve watched as you tipped the bottle, filling your glass almost all the way to the top. You pouted at the absence of your friends before taking a large gulp of the red.

“Traitors,” you grumbled, taking another sip and leaning against the island.

“Hey,” said Steve, moving to your side and taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You obliged as he tilted your head up to look at him. The moment your eyes met his, you couldn’t help but marvel in just how blue they were. Like the ocean, you had always thought. Peaceful and calming. Stop that. You did not come over to Steve’s place for a friendly dinner just to gawk over him. You were like a little sister to him. He didn’t see you that way! It was wrong to pine after him like a love-sick puppy dog every other day of the year. It was especially wrong to do it on Valentine’s day. Of course, the presence of Nat, Sam, and Bucky were supposed to make the whole ordeal easier. That had been the plan at least.

“We can still have a good time tonight. Just you and me. Besides, more lasagna for the both of us,” Steve continued, breaking you out of your wandering thoughts.

“And more wine too. Think we can finish all ten bottles?” you smirked, earning you a raised eyebrow.

“I think that however I respond to that question, you’re still going to try,” jabbed Steve, dodging your hand as your reached out to slap him playfully for his smart aleck response, “Hey, pour me a glass too while I pull the lasagna out of the oven.”

“Done already?” you asked excitedly, reaching over the island for the second glass and filling it almost all the way to the top.

Steve responded by presenting a large casserole dish like the holy grail, wafting the scent of marinara and cheese in your direction.

“You’re a god!” you moaned, following the cheesy, meaty dish as he took it away from you and set it on the stove next to what appeared to be some kind of dessert. You gasped, “Is that—”

“Chocolate pudding?” Steve finished for you, sending a mischievous smile your way.

“Careful there, Captain, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my panties tonight,” you teased, the words leaving your mouth before you could think twice about them. Great job. Obviously, the best way to not let the man know you were practically in love with him was to flirt shamelessly. You quickly busied yourself by taking a large sip from your glass, hoping to gloss over the comment.

Thankfully, Steve merely laughed, “Get yourself a plate and dish up while it’s still hot (Y/N),” he made his way around you, placing a large hand on the expanse of your lower back. The simple contact should have meant nothing. The two of your sparred and grappled all the time in training, but there was something so intimate about the situation. You and a man you were desperately in love with that would never notice you, having dinner on Valentine’s night. Just the two of you. Breathing deeply, you told yourself to get over it. You were friends and that was good enough. You could do this. You could get through tonight.

The torture didn’t stop there, however. It was as if Steve was purposefully feeding into all of your deepest romantic fantasies. It started with the lasagna. Your favorite dish. Then the chocolate pudding. Your favorite dessert. He even indulged in drinking the wine you brought, knowing you didn’t like to drink alone. The music he’d chosen to play, your favorite, and when he’d brought out the playing cards, you thought you might drown in bliss. You played rummy, a game you’d confessed forever ago was your favorite as your grandfather had taught you how to play.

That is how you found yourself, a few hours later, seated on the floor in Steve’s living room. A small fire crackled and roared from the fireplace as the two of you sipped wine and indulged on the overtly rich chocolate pudding. Your heels had long been forgotten and Steve had graciously provided you a blanket to cover your bare legs. The playing cards laid strewn across the coffee table behind you as the two of you stared into the flames. It was romantic. So romantic. The wine had made your limbs and brain mushy and slowly you were falling into a false sense of reality. Was Steve really trying to get into your panties? Why else would tonight be so perfect and well catered to you?

“So,” you spoke, breaking the comfortable silence, “I understand why I’m here. But, why are you here Steve?”

“Because I live here?”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean. You could have anyone Steve! You’re Captain Freaking America! Why spend your Valentine’s day night with me?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

You snorted in response, taking another sip of wine. It was official, you were just drunk enough to begin losing your filter.

“Just answer the question Mister America.”

“It’s Captain, thank you,” said Steve haughtily causing the two of you to laugh, “Fine. I guess…I guess I’m here because I’m in love with someone and I’ve been too chicken to tell them.”

What? The confession floored you. Great. This was great. You tried to hold it together and not think about just how stupid you were. A stupid girl silly enough to fawn over a guy and believe that he could actually like her! The dinner, the dessert, the music, the cards. It all had to be pity. Pity that you couldn’t find someone to spend Valentine’s day with. Steve was alone by choice tonight. You on the other hand…

“Um, would you excuse me?” voice and legs shaky as you stood up, “Bathroom?”

“Oh, um down the hall, second door on the right,” said Steve, sounding…disappointed? You didn’t allow yourself to focus on it, needing to extricate yourself from the room as quickly as possible before you broke down in tears. Heading hastily down the hall, you opened the second door to find not a bathroom to cry in, but…a whole room of children’s toys?

“What the hell?” you voiced aloud, unable to stop yourself. Bikes, doll houses, puzzles, board games, cars, barbies, nerf guns. Everything. Every toy a kid could possibly have! Why did a grown man have a room full of children’s toys? Did he have a kid you didn’t know about? Was he some kind of collector? Was it…a sex thing? Your inebriated brain was leading you down all kinds of crazy rabbit holes, when a voice behind you sent you soaring into the air.

“I said second door on the right.”

You gasped, swinging around to find Steve leaning against the door, large arms crossed in front of him, “Geeze Steve! You scared me! What the hell are you doing with all these toys?”

“It’s uh…it’s kind of a long story,” Steve scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “I was talking to my neighbor down the hall the other day about her kids birthday that’s coming up soon and she admitted that money was tight this year and it was going to be hard affording presents this close to Christmas. Well, I thought I’d help out a little. As you can see, I went a little overboard…are you crying?”

You sniffed, wiping at the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “God! Could you be any more perfect?! I’m so stupid! There you are, incredibly attractive, nice, caring, and so selfless and I’m just…me! I can’t believe that I thought for even a second that you could possibly feel the way I feel about you. But of course, you’re in love with somebody else and she is so lucky! You have to tell her Steve because she’d be a fool not to feel the same way. And I—”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Steve approached you, placing his hand on your shoulders, “Deep breaths.” You breathed with him, feeling yourself calming under his care.

“Did you mean it? You have feelings for me?”

Your face heated in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you just confessed your love to him, crying in a room full of children’s toys. Bringing your hands up to cover your face, you groaned into your palms wishing you were anywhere but there.

“I have feelings for you too (Y/N).”

“What?” you looked up, pulling your face from your hands in surprise.

“Full confession, I asked everyone else not to come tonight,” Steve admitted shyly, “I was hoping that if I could impress you enough tonight, you’d consider being my girl. That is, if I got up the courage to tell you how I feel.”

“So, the girl you’re in love with…”

“Is you, (Y/N),” said Steve reaching a hand up to cup your face softly, “I’m crazy about you (Y/N). You’re all I think about. You make me happy and I think that I could make you happy too. If you’ll have me.”

You laughed, lightly, your head swimming with euphoric confusion. If you’d have him? What a ridiculous question. You answered by lifting onto your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck before bringing your lips to his. The kiss was warm and sweet. He tasted of red wine and chocolate pudding and everything you could have dreamed of. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight to his body, every muscle hard and molding perfectly to you. You pulled away, leaning back to see the lust in his eyes.

“Careful there, Captain, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my panties tonight.”

Everything Marvel Taglist: 

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[incandescent-eden]

31 Days of Horror - Vast (2)

My go at day 2 of 31 days of horror : Vast ! And this one was finished before 12 A M in my time, I am so excited!

Total word count: 1457

TW / CW : deep sea mentions , unidentified creatures , bullying behaviors , burn wounds , burn mentions , (special mention for scientific inaccuracies)

---

“What the hell?” Vivienne clenched the clipboard she held. It dug into her palm as she tried to resist the urge to throw it at the woman who had brought her in through the mechanically locked doors.

An urge that was quickly becoming harder to fight while the woman stammered out an explanation. She had been studying the specimen for longer, had been on the initial team that found it, or so Vivienne had been told when she accepted the project.

“This is the specimen, Dr. Zhu,” she said, wringing her hands. A strand of her straight black hair slipped in front of her goggles from the loose ponytail that held it back. Sloppy.

“Is this a joke?” Vivienne demanded. Her fingertips ached from pressing on the clipboard. “I was told there was a specimen to study, and you take me here to show me, what? A central pillar?”

Slowly, shakily, Vivienne lowered her clipboard, pressing her other hand to her temple. She tried to breathe, to keep her voice level. It wouldn’t do to get angry at another researcher, not on her first day. “Did David put you up to this? I won’t get mad, just tell me where the real specimen is, and who told you to play this silly little prank. I won’t even tell the director.” She grit her teeth, inhaling through her nose. Exhaling. “Just stop. Wasting. My time.”

“Um,” the woman whispered. The red stitching on her lab coat read ‘Dr. W. Ng.’ “N-no, that… that really is the specimen, Dr. Zhu. That entire tank…”

Vivienne’s breath hitched, mid-inhale. She turned around.

The tank was pressurized, puffs of air hissing every few seconds around it. It was a tube, the kind that stretched from the base of the building all the way to the top floor, with the top left exposed so people could peer in, downward. The shape of it was oddly nostalgic, reminding Vivienne of when she was a little girl and her parents were at work. Her grandfather would take her to the aquarium, teaching her the names of different animals in Cantonese. She used to run along the curved ramps of the aquarium, following fish as they flitted from one end of the glass tank to the next, until she reached the top and she could gaze down, standing on her tiptoes, wondering what it would feel like to ride the turtles.

This tank was a similar shape, with metal stairs all around the reinforced glass instead of sticky aquarium floors. Where Vivienne used to look into clear, blue tinted waters and see multitudes of coral and fish, however, all there was in the tank was a solid white pillar.

She pressed one hand to the glass, expecting it to be cool. It was hot to the touch - so hot that Vivienne jerked her hand away instinctively.

“This…” Vivienne muttered. “This is the specimen?” She ran, circling the tank. Behind her came the clanging of her companion’s footsteps as she tried to keep up. “How did you transport it here?” she said, half-dazed.

“It bit one of our probes,” Dr. Ng admitted. “We sent a probe down to try to map some of the creatures closer to the sea floor, and it, um… latched on.”

Vivienne reached out, stopping inches away from touching the tank again. “How did you… pull it up?”

“We didn’t know,” said Dr. Ng quietly. “It was really small at first. We pulled up the probe, and there it was. Just this, wriggly little thing. Real cute,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“I mean, the coloration!” she gushed, a smile floating up to her face. She flushed pink, her dark eyes far away and sparkling. “Something that was pure white, that was meant to reflect light, ten kilometers below sea level? We were worried maybe the light would be too much for it, but it didn’t seem to respond at all to different lighting levels. Just pressure. Well, that, and...”

“Feeding,” Vivienne finished softly.

“Yes,” said Dr. Ng, breathless. “It ate everything we gave it. Fish food at first, but then Nicky accidentally dropped one of the grapes they were eating - god, they should not have been eating in the lab - and it snatched it up. And then we thought, hey, what if we fed it other things? It must have been a top predator…”

“But?” Vivienne asked, sensing the hesitation in Dr. Ng’s trailing off.

“But it kept getting bigger,�� she continued somberly. “Do you understand, Dr. Zhu? No matter what we fed it, it kept getting bigger.”

Vivienne nodded, recalling the emptied cans labelled potassium cyanide they had passed on their way into this main chamber.

“So why call me in? Sounds like your team would want credit for this find.”

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the running of the turbines filtering what little water was left in the tank and the faint hissing of machines straining to keep pressure at deep sea levels. Then, almost imperceptibly, there came a low, haunting, whistling tone.

“Do you hear that, Dr. Zhu?” Dr. Ng asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes.” The word barely left Vivienne’s lips.

“Creepy, isn’t it?”

“Beautiful,” said Vivienne.

The whistling tone continued, just low enough that if she hadn’t been listening, or if she started to think of something else, she would have missed it. It was a sweet and sad chorus, bouncing off the metal of the rails of the walkways encircling the tank, filling the chamber as if expanding, as if taking up the entirety of the tank was not enough, as if nothing would ever be enough until the creature had consumed the vastness of space itself.

“Dr. Zhu?” Dr. Ng interrupted, grabbing Vivienne’s shoulder.

Vivienne whipped her hand off the tank on which it rested, now aching and red. She gasped in pain, holding her wrist as her hand throbbed.

“I’m fine,” Vivienne muttered through gritted teeth. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dr. Ng looked at her with round eyes and rounded, parted lips. Vivienne hated eyes like that, full of pity and concern. Eyes that once stared back at her from a mirror, decades ago, when Vivienne herself had been a young woman like Dr. Ng.

The whistling was gone now.

“We should leave,” Dr. Ng said slowly. As if she was speaking to a child. Anger rose in Vivienne’s throat, hotter than her quickly scarring hand.

“Answer. My. Question,” Vivienne repeated.

Avoiding Vivienne’s eyes, Dr. Ng finally tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re the leading expert in deep sea parasites. We thought, at first, with the way it would eat everything, maybe that’s what it was. It was only about this big when we called you.” She held her hands about half a meter apart.

“We weren’t feeding it more than a few grams of fish formula a day, but it kept getting bigger, and then,” Dr. Ng paused, taking a deep breath. “One day, we stopped feeding it. Just to see if it would respond, try to tap the glass or whether it had gotten, you know, conditioned. But it just kept getting bigger.”

“A lot of people… Nicky, Felix, Adeline, basically our entire team quit. Burned their hands against the tank the same way you did when it was still small. But the water temperature was always cold to emulate the bottom of the ocean when we checked it. And it was highly improbable that all of them just got careless one day. That just doesn’t happen.”

Vivienne nodded. “Why are you still here, then?”

Dr. Ng looked curiously at Vivienne. “This is my work. I’ve been with this project for three years now, and I couldn’t just quit. Wouldn’t you have done the same?”

Wordlessly, Vivienne nodded.

She turned again, staring at the specimen, the blinding pillar of white that seemed to consume her entire field of vision.

“I started this project thinking I would find something at the bottom of the sea floor. Better document that part of the ocean, you know?” Her words remained soft, but her voice took on a hard tiredness. “I don’t know what I’ll do if it gets bigger.”

When, Vivienne said, but her lips remained sealed.

The whistle tone started once more, reaching and stretching into the air. It struck Vivienne just how tall the observation chamber was, just how wide the radius of the tank, and just how small she and Dr. Ng must have been - mere specks against the mass of white that came from a great unknown.

A tiny cracking noise, rendered inaudible by the specimen’s whistling, accompanied an even smaller webbed crack in the glass of the tank.

[sherrybaby14]

I Watched You Change

This is for YoungMoneyMilla’s 9k celebration.  Congrats darling!

Prompt:  Change (in the house of flies) by the Deftones (This song reminds me of Queen of the Damned, but I am too scared to write for Anne Rice so I went with the next thing)

Summary:  Dracula AU.  Victorian England.  After being neglected by your fiancé a certain vampire sets his eyes on you

Warnings:  Angst, Dub-con, Mind Control, Cheating, Blood, Death

Pairings: Vampire!Bucky x  reader, Clint x reader

A/N:  This story has 2 endings.  You get to choose your own adventure.  They are marked!!  

                  The air in your lungs burned, your body not wanting to release the oxygen. This was important, you had to talk to him, you could do this.  Right before you were about to pass out from holding in your breath you straightened your back and lifted your chin, releasing the air as you strode toward your fiancé.

                 “Clint, I have to speak to you.”  When you opened the door to the parlor you were not surprised to see the faces of four shocked men.  

                 Women were never to interrupt, but you’d had enough.

                 “Y/N.” He rose from the couch.  “Now is not the time.  I will find you later.”

                 The other men went back to looking at the papers on the table.  Dr. Banner not hiding his annoyance with you.  

                 “There is no time!” Damned the proper etiquette. “You’re never around, and when you are it’s with these men.  We are supposed to build a life together and I have no clue what yours is anymore.”

                 A glance to the papers on the table showed a drawing of a fanged creature, some maps, and medieval-looking weapons.  A hand was around your arm and you looked into the face of your fiancé, his lips turned into a scowl as he dragged you out of the room.  

                 “I am working toward ensuring that life is one of purity and safety.”  He spoke through gritted teeth as he led you back into the hall.  “One where I can protect you.”  

                 “Protect me?”  You pulled your arm away.  “From what?”

                 “There is evil here.” Clint looked over his shoulder, almost ensuring his partners couldn’t hear. “I fear that the minds of women can’t grasp this level of danger.  I need you to trust me.  We are closing in on the beast.  Once he is killed we will be wed.”

                 “Beast?  Killed?” Your head started to swim with his cryptic words, let alone the insult against your gender. “What are you talking about?  You sound mad.”

                 “I’ve said too much.”  His expression melted into pity as he cupped your cheek.  “We have to return to the city for a few nights. It’s safer for you here.”  

                 “Now you’re leaving?”  You supposed it didn’t make much difference since he was never around either way.  

                 “When I return, things will go back to how they were.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Promise me, you won’t go outside after dark and wear your crucifix?”  

                 “Mr. Barton.”  Dr. Banner appeared in the doorway. “If we wish to act on this lead, we must prepare.”  

                 You glanced around your fiancé and swore you saw Tony Stark brandishing a crossbow.  Your mouth hung open as you looked up at Clint, desperate for an explanation.  

                 “Patience Y/N.”  He gave another quick kiss before leaving with Dr. Banner, shutting the door to the parlor behind him.  

                 At the start of summer, you thought it was kind Mr. Stark offered you a room at his country estate.  Memories of your arrival and how vibrant Clint had seemed further away than the ten weeks they were.  

                 Once Dr. Banner arrived it was like all the men had gone insane with some private obsession.  Clint no longer snuck into your bedroom in the evening, showed up for dinners or teas, and he halted all talk of your wedding plans, which you’d hoped would be set for some time in the early fall.  

                 Again you found yourself alone.  In a big empty estate.  You debated on finding one of the servants, but they did not hide their annoyance at your presence and refused to treat you like their equal. That drove you nuts, especially since you were nowhere near the class of Tony Stark.  

                 The tears of frustration were starting to pool, but if Clint saw you cry that would only feed into the stereotype he had recently painted you into. The sensitive woman who must be shielded from everything.

                 The suffocating feeling returned.  You grabbed your hat and purse from next to the door before yanking it open and walking out into the summer sunshine.  

                 A walk would do you good.  Calm your rage.  The town was only a kilometer away. Maybe seeing the faces of some people not obsessed with ‘beasts’ would help.

~~

               Clint’s words kept circling you as you tried to make sense out of them. The minds of women can’t grasp this level of danger. More like the mouths of men can’t explain what the hell was going on. You brought your hand to your lips at the thought.  

                 Such immoral words would never leave your mouth, but you couldn’t help picture the look on Clint’s face had you spoken them out loud.   There would be a rage in his eyes, he’d never hit you, but probably think about it as his jaw clenched.  For some reason, the image of the reaction excited you.  

                 “Excuse me Miss?”  A voice shook you from your fantasy.  

                 You looked up at a striking man.  He had long brown hair slicked back, he wore thick sunglasses and a proper suit with a hat that looked tailored enough to rival one of Mr. Stark’s outfits.  But the most peculiar thing was his sun umbrella in his gloved hand.  You hadn’t seen many men carry those.

                 “I have just arrived and I was looking for the solicitor’s office?  Could you point me in the right direction?”  The man’s glasses made it difficult to tell where his eyes were looking, but his voice sent a chill down your spine.

                 You realized you were starring and looked down the street, more than familiar with the layout of the few shops and businesses in the small country town.  

                 “Yes.  It’s the third building on the opposite side of the street.”  You started walking.  “I am headed that way actually.”

                 “Is there a bookstore?” The man followed you.

                 “Excuse me?”  You didn’t know what he was implying.

                 “You look like someone well read.  In town unaccompanied, I assumed it was for a new book.”  He gave you a smile.  

                 “There is a bookstore, but unfortunately, I have read everything I care to that they have.”  You thought about his unaccompanied line.  

                 You were an engaged woman, maybe it was inappropriate to come to town by yourself.  What would Clint think? You walking down the street with another man. Internally you rolled your eyes, he was too busy hunting some beast to be worried about you.  

                 “That is a shame.”  Your companion stopped at the solicitor’s office.

                 In the window was a sign that read ‘Closed until Monday’.

                 “Would it be forward of me to ask you to accompany me to lunch?  I did notice a café down the street and I hate to eat alone?”  

                 His invitation made your mouth hang open, how brazen?  What did he take you for?  Some harpy?

                 “I do not believe my fiancé would appreciate that.” You started to turn.  “Good day sir.”  

                 “Apologies.” He called out before you got a step away. “I meant no harm, to you nor your fiancé. I am new to this country and clearly lacking in its social normalcies.  I understand women are all too aware of potential dangers around them.”

                 His word choice made your heart stop beating for a moment as you froze and turned back to him.  

                 “What did you say?  About dangers?”  You could not remember the last time you were so interested in an answer.

                 “As a species, women are much more practical when it comes to the evils in this world.”  He stepped toward you.  “And thus I clothe my naked villainy.”  

                 A smile spread to your lips as you let out a little laugh.  When was the last time that happened?  A smile or a chuckle?  

                 “Richard III.”  You nodded. “I’m impressed.”  

                 “And I am Count James Buchanan.”  He offered you an arm. “It was never my intention to offend.”

                 “I may have overreacted.”  You took his escort.  “Maybe a light lunch would be appropriate.  Especially if the conversation is about Shakespeare.”

                 “What is your favorite work?”  The Count asked.

                 You smiled, happy for once your brain wasn’t preoccupied with thoughts of your maddening fiancé.  

~~

               The lunch flew by as quickly as the conversation. You lost track of time as the world faded away with the sun.  It was only when the sound of thunder shook the café you were jarred from the Count’s attention.  

                 “Blast!”  You rose from the table and looked out the window as the rain pelted down.  “I am afraid our afternoon must come to an end. I promised my fiancé to return by dark.”

                 “Wise man, obtaining such a promise.”  He looked out the window with you. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss. Y/L/N.  I believe your fiancé must be a very wise man for receiving your affections.”

                 The meaning of his words was not lost on you and again brought on shivers.  When you glanced over at him he finally removed his sunglasses and eyes too blue to be natural starred back.  It almost made you gasp, the handsomeness of this man.      

                 “Thank you for the company and compliments.” You didn’t look away from his hypnotic gaze.  “I was hoping I could ask you for a favor Count Barnes?”

                 “James.” He gave you a knowing glance. “And whatever your heart desires.”  

                 “Could I borrow your umbrella?”  You gave a half smile. “I walked here, and would hate to catch a cold in the rain.”

                 “No.”  His response surprised you.  “I have a carriage.  I will drive you home.”  

                 Before you could respond he was outside, waving his hand to the end of the street.  The horse and buggy arrived right when you walked out.  

                 The driver did not jump down as James held open the door for you.  It would be rude to decline, and with the weather, you were sure Clint would want you to accept the ride.  

                 “I’m at the Stark estate.”  You told James as you sat against the plush leather.  

                 “Anthony Stark, I didn’t realize he was engaged. Won’t he be thrilled when he finds out I’ve spent the afternoon with his fiancé.”  James took a seat next to you.

                 “He is not engaged.  Clint Barton, he’s an old acquaintance of Mr. Stark.”  You felt silly for not explaining yourself earlier. “But you know Mr. Stark too?”  

                 “Of course.  He is the reason I picked this countryside town.  He and his friends practically chased me out Romania to get me here, your fiancé included.”  He gave you a wink.  “Mr. Barton. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him in person, but I have heard he is quite strong and reputable.”  

                 “He is.”  You wanted to say ‘was’, but bit your tongue.

                 “It’s a strange coincidence.  After dropping you off my plans were to head to the Stark estate.” James removed his hat. “That solicitor has the keys to my new estate.  It appears I am homeless until Monday.  I was hoping Tony wouldn’t mind boarding me for the next two nights.”  

                 Even you didn’t call Mr. Stark Tony.  It made your eyebrows rise at the informalness.  

                 “Unfortunately Mr. Stark went to London for the weekend.” You gave a frown.  

                 “Is your fiancé acting as master of the estate in his stead?”  James’ confidence didn’t falter at the news.

                 “Actually, I am the only guest at the moment.”  You bit your lip.  Was it your place to offer Tony’s residence to the Count?

                 “I see.”  James nodded. “I am sure that there is an inn I can find a room at.  I would hate to put you in that position.”

                 “Nonsense.”  After how kind he had been to you, and the fact he called Mr. Stark Tony, there was no reason to make him stay at that bug infested inn.  “You are more than welcome to stay at Mr. Stark’s estate.  I will have one of the servants makes up a room for you as soon as we arrive.”  

                 “Thank you.  I am sure Tony would approve of your hospitality.”  James’ eyes flashed with his own approval.  “Does that mean we will be dining together this evening?”

                 Your heart fluttered at the thought, not over the food or the man himself, just the idea of company.  It had been so long.  

~~

               Dinner was just as pleasant as lunch, if not more so and you drank in every word your new friend spoke.  Some of the servants raised an eye while serving the food, but nobody objected to your offering the Count a room.

                 “Would you like a nightcap?”  You rose from the table and started toward the parlor.  

                 “I really would.”  James stifled a yawn. “But I fear I am in need of sleep after today’s activities.”

                 “Of course.”  You felt foolish, forgetting your guest’s travels.  

                 “In fact, I will likely sleep through the day tomorrow I am so exhausted.  Please forgive my rudeness if that occurs.”  James stood up and left his seat, walking with you.

                 “Very understandable.”  You tried to hide your disappointment, knowing it was selfish but you wanted company again.  

                 “But I was hoping, tomorrow evening, the two of us could have a formal dinner?”  He offered you his arm as you walked through the hall to the staircase, which you gladly took.  “I’ve brought my dress coats and I would love to experience an English formal.”

                 “For two?”  You smiled. “I’m not sure you will get the entire experience.”

                 “Humor me.”  James climbed the stairs, leading you up.

                 “I suppose I’ll check with the servants in the morning.” You had a feeling they would jump at the chance, at least the chef. She’d been bored stiff whining about making quick meals all summer.  

                 “Well good night Miss Y/L/N.”  James stopped outside his bedroom, you hadn’t realized you’d walked this far, much passed your own.  

                 “Y/N, please.”  Your eyes didn’t leave him as his lips touched the top of your hand.

                 A lump came in the back of your throat and you swallowed it down.  

                 “Goodnight Y/N.”  James dropped your hand.  

                 Every nerve in your body flared for some unknown reason.  Tingles spread across your shoulders as you spun to walk to your room, muttering a goodbye.

               Thoughts went to tomorrow’s dinner.  You could distract yourself with getting ready and maybe the workers would let you help set the table or something, but they would probably fight you off wanting to tame their own boredom.  

                 At the back of your brain, there was a clawing this was wrong.  You shouldn’t be excited about dining with anyone but your fiancé.  But you told yourself you would be dining with him if he were here.  And besides, as the only current guest of the estate, it was your job to entertain Mr. Stark’s friends.  

~~

               He meant to murder her the second they were in the carriage.  Leave her dead body on the side of the road for the men to find as a warning, but she proved to be much more than the delicate flower her husband talked of.  

                 And the way she smelled, Bucky could only imagine how good she must taste.  He ran his tongue over his lips as he undressed in Tony Stark’s mansion.  He imagined how enraged the would-be vampire hunter would be if he knew.  

                 Dr. Banner was responsible for this, bringing him here into poor Y/N’s life.  They should have left him be, but his arch nemesis thought if he got a gang together maybe he would stand a chance this time.  The poor mortals had no clue how powerful Bucky really was and he had no intention of giving them a demonstration.

                 Still, they had to be taught a lesson.  Killing vampire hunters tended to create more vampire hunters.  Usually hunting loved ones was enough of a deterrent, but it seemed nobody else had any family but Clint Barton.  His fiancé death would send the perfect message to the others, but Bucky didn’t want her dead any longer.  He wanted something more.  

                 He was certain she was asleep by now.  It had been hours since they parted, but she was still on his mind.  There was a risk in using the hallway, he was certain the staff was already suspicious of him.  So he went to the window and with minimal effort crawled across the stone siding toward her room.  

                 The warm summer air meant the panes were open and he went inside with the breeze.  There she was in her bed, a light sweat on her forehead as she tossed among the sheets.  Her nightgown was simple and white, clearly lacking in the wealth of this house.  He enjoyed how thin it was, as it stuck to her skin, the outline of her curves apparent.  

                  He couldn’t help himself as he dipped into the bed next to her.  Her lids started to flutter and he couldn’t have that.  

                 “Shhhh,” he ordered. “Sleep.”  

                 There was a relaxation to her body as Bucky position her between his legs with her on her side.  

                 “What are you dreaming of Love?” ��He brushed her hair back and inhaled her intoxicating aroma.  

                 “You.” There was no hesitation in her response.

                 “I like that very much.”  Bucky ran his hand down her bare arm until he got to her gown and started to bunch it up.  “What about me?”  

                 “Kissing you. Touching you.” Her lips puckered at the last word.  

                 “Touching me?”  The white thing gathered around her waist, leaving her beautiful cunt open for his hand.  “I have a better idea.”  

                 She let out a moan as his fingers worked between her folds.  Bucky smiled at how wet she was for him, eager and inviting.   He teased her entrance with his finger, and she lifted her hips.  

                 “The first time I enter you there it won’t be with a finger.”  Bucky dragged along her slit, eliciting a disappointed whimper.  “That doesn’t mean I will leave you wanting.”

                 He pressed down on her tender bud and she gasped as her hands scratched at his chest.  She started rocking against him, grinding down on his hard cock with her movements while he circled and rubbed her clit.    

                 “Cum for me.”  He cared more about her release than his own, a strange occurrence for him. “Tell me what you need.”  

                 “You.”  There was a coo to her voice, but she rocked faster against him.  

                 Bucky increased the pressure and his motions, harder and faster.  Soon the gasping came again and the features on her face tightened.  She was close and he planned on tasting her ecstasy.  He opened his mouth and bared his fangs.    

                 The second her climax came over her Bucky removed his hand and flipped her on to her back.  His thigh pressed against her apex while his teeth sank into her neck.

                 He tasted her orgasm, a rush of pent up repression and denial mixed without any shame or remorse.  It was enough that he felt his cock spasm in his pants as her blood rushed down his throat.  

                 Her death would be a waste.  Bucky knew right then and there he had better plans in store for her.  

~~

               “Miss.”  There was a handshaking you.  “Miss wake up.”  

                 You struggled to open your eyes.  The room seemed extra bright and you shielded your eyes.

                 “What time is it?”  You begrudgingly lifted yourself up on to an elbow.  “Who are you?”

                 “Count Barnes told us about the dinner tonight.” She wore one of Tony’s uniforms. “I am here to help you dress.  It’s 5 pm. Dinner is at 7, so we should get started.”

                 “Five pm?”  That made you jolt up in bed. “I’ve slept the day away.”  

                 “You do look a little ill.”  The woman tapped your neck. “And it looks like a spider may have taken a bite.”  

                 You stood up and went to the mirror.  There was an air of tiredness to your features and two strange puncture marks on your neck.  It must have been a huge spider.  

                 “Please don’t cancel the dinner.”  The girl appeared behind you. “The staff has been dreadfully bored and Count Barnes is paying all of us a very generous additional sum for tonight.”  

                 “I am tired, but I feel more relaxed than I have in months.”  It was like all the tension in your body ran out.  “I wouldn’t dream of canceling on the Count.”  

                 You would have to thank him when you saw him, especially since you said you would inform the servants.  

                 “He had a special dress sent over for you.”  The maid went to a bag hanging.  “I don’t even think Mr. Stark knows how to have something made so quickly.”  

                 She lifted the bag to show the most exquisite piece of clothing you’d ever seen.  It was the right color for you and the details were extraordinary.  

               “I think we should do your hair up.”  The main went on for her plans for you and you nodded along, eager to participate in the night’s festivities.  

~~

               When you saw James he looked more handsome than you remembered, his suit the finest you’d ever seen.  

                 Dinner was another perfect conversation where it felt like he hung on every word you said.  

                 “If I ask for a nightcap will you accompany this time?”  You rose from the table.

                 “Only if you ask nicely.”  James stood as well.  

                 “Please, won’t you join me for a drink?”  You waited for him to offer his arm.  

                 “I must say, that dress looks stunning on you.” He looked you up and down. “Mr. Barton is a lucky man.”  

                 Hearing your fiance’s name made you cringe. It was the first time you’d given him any thought all evening.  

                 “Yes.  You will come to the wedding I hope?”  You looked at James and saw a twinge of disappointment, making you feel even guiltier.

                 “I hope to play a large part in your wedding.” The disappointment vanished.  

                 “Oh.  Of course. I forget you’re acquaintances with all the men.” You walked into the parlor and left James to go pour the drinks.

                 There was a scratching sound and then music filled the room.  You smiled as you looked over your shoulder at James with phonograph.  

                 “It’s a wonderful invention.”  You turned and handed him a drink.  

               “Dance with me.”  He took both glasses from your hands and set them down.  

                 “I don’t think…”

                 “Please.”  He held his hand out.  

                 You knew it was wrong, but you found yourself accepting his proposal and slipping your hand into his, while his other went around your waist and brought you closer.  

                 “You’re very special Y/N.”  James led you as you swayed.  “More than any human recognizes.”  

                 “I’m just a girl.”  You felt a heat growing in your heart between his compliments and the way he was touching you.  

                 “No.”  His had left yours and went to your chin, nudging it so that your eyes were on his. “You are much more than that.  You are a delicacy. One I would very much like to taste. Again.”

                 Hazy visions of laying on top of James, his hand on your most private areas.  The release the ecstasy, the bite on your neck.  

                 “What are you?”  You were curious, not scared, not angry, nothing else.  

                 “I am the only one who can satisfy you.  Give you what you crave.  Knowledge, equality, travel, the world.”  He leaned in closer.  “All you have to do is join me.”    

                 “You’re the beast they’re hunting.”  Things fell into place.

               The crossbow, the picture on the table of the fanged creature, the sun umbrella, the sunglasses, sleeping all day, the puncture marks on your neck.  

                 “You’re a vampire.”  You understood why Clint was acting so mad, had he told you the truth you never would have believed him.  “Am I under your spell?”

                 “Not at the moment.” The music stopped but you continued to sway.  

                 “Then why am I not scared?”  You kept your eyes on his, having no reason to trust him but doing so anyway.  

                 “Because you’re different.”  His gaze did not falter. “Leave with me, tonight.  Let me take you into the darkness.”  

                 He was asking, but you knew he didn’t need to. A mountain of feelings came toppling down.  He was a monster, you were engaged.  He was interesting, you were lonely.  He excited you, you were amazed by him.  Would a no mean death and did you even want to say no?  While your thoughts continued to scramble your heat knew the answer.  

                 You opened your mouth to speak when the door to the parlor flung open.  

                 “Y/N GET BACK!” Clint held out a giant crucifix.

                 James let out a screech and moved you behind his back.  Clint wasted no opportunity jumping forward, a wooden stake in his hand.  It came centimeters to James’ heart when he let go of you to defend himself.  You fell to the floor with a bump and scooted back against the wall.  

                 The two men struggled with each other.  The wooden stake going closer to James before another blow pushed it away.  

                 “STOP!  You’re hurting him!”  You screamed out from the floor.  

                 Both men looked at you.  

                 “Y/N run! Get out of here.”  Clint went back to trying to kill James.  

                 “Y/N you have a choice.  Make it.”  James didn’t sound nearly as winded as Clint.  

                 That’s when you realized this was all a show for your benefit.  James could have snapped Clit in two if he wanted.  That’s where this was headed.  Clint’s death.  James wanted you to do it, but could you?  

                 Two lives danced in front of your eyes literally. One a happy dutiful wife in the sunlight, the other a literal monster.   You knew the correct choice.  

                 Ignoring the faux struggle you walked over to the crossbow, the one Tony must have chosen to leave behind for some reason. It was loaded, all you to do was pull the trigger.  Without hesitation, you went over to the duo.  Neither of which were paying attention to you.  

                 “I wish there was another way.”  You sighed as you lined up and took your shot.

                 In an instant the struggle was over as the body hit the floor with a thud, your life forever changed.

 A/N:  We are going into a little bit of a choose your own adventure.  If you want to be a bad girl skip all the way to ***  

[Begin ending 1]

               “Y/N.”  Clint looked at you with shock.  “Thank God.”

                 He ran to you and tucked you against his chest, the entire time your eyes were glued to James, the arrow sticking out of his heart. His body started to shake and decay at a rapid rate, the beautiful face disappearing.  

                 “Where are the others?”  You didn’t notice the vampire hunting gang.

                 “London.  I just had a feeling that you needed me.”  Clint kissed the top of your head. “That it was wrong to leave you alone.  And I was right.”  

                 “Is it over now?  That he is dead.”  You pulled away and looked up at Clint.  

                 “It’s over.  Our lives are safe.”  He started to lead you out of the parlor.  “The others won’t believe it.”  

                 “Will you tell me the story?”  You looked at Clint. “Why was he here?”  

                 “For another time love.”  Clint squeezed you tight.  “You have had quite a night.  I’m sure you need some rest.”  

                 “To sleep, perchance to dream.”  You were still in a haze.

                 “What?”  Clint asked.

                 “Shakespeare.”  

                 “I’m not familiar.”  He tightened his shoulders as he led you to the stairs, away from what could have been.  

 ***

                 [Begin Ending 2]

                 A failed grunt came out of Clint as he tried to reach for the arrow in his back.  It was short lived as he collapsed dead.   You lowered the crossbow as James stepped over his body.  

                 His eyes bore into yours with pride and amazement. When he reached you he cupped your cheek and lifted your chin, pressing his mouth to yours.  You dropped the weapon and put your arms around his neck, returning the kiss.  

                 “What a choice.”  He broke the kiss as he hoisted you in the air,  your skirts going to your waist as you wrapped your legs around him.

                 “There was never a choice to make.  You would always win.”   You went back to kissing him.

                 This was the kissing you’d always dreamed of, deep and unbridled passion.   You would spend eternity with someone capable of making you feel this way.  

                 You squealed when there was a sharp pang on your tongue,  followed by the taste of copper, then something else, something warm and tangy. James had bitten both of your tongues open and your blood swooshed together in your mouth.  

                 It made you moan as he set you down on the couch. He moved faster than your eyes could keep up with, undressing and then you.  It was dizzying to be naked so quickly, but in a second he bared his fangs and sunk them deep into your neck.

                 A moan left your lips as you felt your blood dripping down your back.  Warm and so filled with life.   Your head started to lull to the side as your soul slid into James’ mouth.  With it all your hang up and pretentions.  

                 Then he pulled your head away and looked at you as a nail ran across his chest, spilling his own.  You didn’t need instructions as your mouth went to him, lapping it up and taking as much of him in as you could.  He tasted like love.   Something you could never get enough and never quite understood how it felt.

                 He spun around and pulled you across his lap, straddling him.   You’d never been in such a lewd position before and loved it as he lined up his cock with your cunt and lowered you down.  

                 James tilted his head to the side and again ran a fingernail, opening up his vein.  You wasted no time dropping your head to taste him again while your body bounced up and down his shaft.  

                 Soon his teeth returned to your neck, crunching down again.   It made you cry out and lose your concentration on your own feeding.   But then the tingling in your pussy began to grow in a way you never experienced before.  

                 James was guiding you, up and down, back and forth. You started gasping, desperate for the release.  Certain that you were going to burst into nothingness.  When the pleasure came it made James suck down harder and you moaned uncontrollably.  Your orgasm was soon met with his own and he stilled your movements but continued to drink from your throat.  

                 Finally he lifted his head, showing his blood-soaked chin and lips.  You imagined you looked much the same when he pressed his mouth to yours, his cock softening inside of you.  

                 The deep kiss turned into a little peck and you fell forward, resting your head against James’ chest, the blood drying.  

                 “We have to get out of here.”  He kissed your head and slid you off of his lap.  “The others won’t be far behind.”  

                 “Where will we go?”  You weren’t sure you were capable of standing as sleep started to tug you down.  

                 “Wherever we like.”  He gave you a devilish grin and kissed your forehead.  “Sleep now.”  

                 You had no clue where you would be when you awoke but were ready to follow him into the night.          

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Ok picture this. Thief!Uraraka x Rich!Reader. And it's as angsty as possible? Like Uraraka really out here just looking for that coin, ya know? She didn't come to play!

Warning: Cursing, smut~ish, major angst, thoughts of suicide, kissing, gayness, cuteness overload

Uraraka sat in the kitchen, eating the last Christmas cookie in the entire building. “Ugh, I don’t see why you don’t want to go to your parents for the Holidays! I love your mom! We’ve gone to my family’s house for the past three years.” Kirishima argued as he and Bakugo carried their suitcases down the stairs. “No! You’re mom makes the best food for Christmas, and we get the pool house all to ourselves! Do you realize how much fucking we can do?!” Bakugo slapped Kirishima’s ass, unaware that Ochako was in the room. 

“Plus, we agreed that your mom does Thanksgiving and Christmas with the cooking. My mom does Halloween and the fourth of July with the decorations and explosions.” Bakugo kissed Kirishima before they walked back upstairs to get more of the luggage.

“Todoroki! Say hi to my mom!” Izuku yelled, running up to him with a phone in his hand as Todoroki walked down the other hallway. “Hi Inko!” Todoroki smiled as Uraraka saw Izuku’s mom on the screen. “Oh Todo, Bora Bora is lovely! Make sure to thank your sister for allowing me to use the family vacation house!” Inko exclaimed as the two boys nodded, smiled, and then hung up the phone. “Now, Touya is going to be here soon so let’s move!” 

Todoroki grinned, taking all the luggage in his hands as they walked, not letting Deku carry any of it.

Uraraka smiled, happy for her friends who were doing things over their holiday break. Her on the other hand... would be at the dorms alone. She was the only one in 1-A who didn’t want to go home. Her parents would be working their tail off, and she would just be forced to lug around heavy boxes, sweep, and do their office management for two weeks straight like she did every year. She would never tell anyone that though... how embarrassing.

“Ochako!” She heard behind her, turning around to look at you. “You were on the phone with your parents while holding your LV purse. Your Gucci slides shined on your feet, and the diamond earrings you had been given by Todoroki glimmered in the light. You were everything Ochako wished she could be.

You were an icon for a boss bitch, a model, powerful, brilliant, gorgeous... and as rich as someone could get. Sure Uraraka had the biggest crush, but more than not she wanted to be you. The luckiest human alive.

Your father, Endeavor Todoroki, and Tensei Iida been rivals growing up, eventually becoming pro heroes and starting their own agencies. Of all of them, your father had grown to become a millionaire by going to America instead of Tokyo, and starting his agency there where the competition was pitiful.

That had led to your family becoming one of the most wealthiest in all of Tokyo, above the Yaoyorozus and Iidas. In fact, you, Iida, and Momo had been close friends since toddler age.

“Yes Y/n?” Ochako responded, coming out of her trance. “My mom says I should invite a friend to our beach house. I know you said you didn’t want to go anywhere for the Holidays, but would you? My modeling agency is sponsoring our trip so we can get massages, go snorkeling, you know. All that fun stuff.” Ochako perked up more as you explained. “W-where is it?” She asked excitingly. “Ever heard of Hawaii? My dad’s main office is there.” Ochako hopped off the barstool and smiled brightly. 

“Sure! I’d love to go!” She hugged you before running to go pack her things. “Wait, I don’t have any bathing suits!” She yelled back as you just rolled your eyes, still on the phone with your parents. “Yes Daddy, email them about my plus one. Just borrow mine, I have a few you can use. No Daddy, it’s not a boy, it’s Ururaka.” You winked at her as she ran upstairs, hurrying as fast as she could as if you would leave her.

Once her bags with packed, Ochako came back to the room to see you on the phone still. She sat down, choosing to watch you adoringly and letting you finish your call. “Yes Claire, I’m having a couples massage with my bestie on the third, and snorkeling on the thirtieth. Now don’t get that screwed up with my photoshoot the sixth, and the fireworks for New Years. Yes, the maid went to the house earlier.” 

As you continued, she stared at you. Wow, she’s so... impressive. If only I could have a sliver of that... power. Or you. Honestly, you seemed to get more attractive as Ochako stared at you. ‘If only I could use this to help my family... I’m so god damn scared of what’s going to happen. Mom isn’t working, and Dad might have cancer. What can I do? I’m a student taking classes at UA full time. There’s no time to work!’ Ochako thought deeply, stressing out.

“Phew, I’m glad that’s over! Just called my manager to schedule our break.” You grabbed her bags happily, carrying them to the car outside. “Wonderful! My sister is waiting at the airport with our jet! Then we can zip over the Hawaii and get this party started!” Ochako found herself shaking as you two entered the large black car.

...

Walking out of the airport, Ochako found herself woozy. That’s what sleeping for 15 hours straight did to you after all. Of course... you looked beautiful. You had been drinking hot water with lemon the entire time, had moisturized every half hour, and had taken only four naps, being half an hour long each.

 You were literally the perfect human being, while Ochako had helped herself to your plane’s supply of cake and soda while watching videos on her phone.

“Look! There he is!” You pointed to the boy wearing only rainbow swim trunks and sunglasses standing on top of the blue Jeep. “Andrew! Babe!” You ran and hugged him. “Chance, this is my friend Uraraka. Ochako, this is Chance, one of the models I’m working with for the company’s LGBT campaign!” Ochako perked up, staring at you. You... liked girls??? She... had a chance?

“You bet it! Hop in ladies!” With ease, you lifted Ochako into the Jeep and followed her in. While you were driving, Ochako couldn’t help but relax greatly. The sea breeze and smell of the ocean salt consumed her, almost making her forget all her problems. But she couldn’t forget all her problems... she had promised her mom that she would fix everything by the new year. 

And here she was... going to party while she ignored her family.

“Here we are!” As you pulled in, Ochako almost passed out. “You like it? Daddy got it remodeled it last Spring. It has two pools, a hot tub, an amazing view, and of course... the beach is only a few steps away!” You exclaimed, taking your bags in and upstairs to your room. Ochako had her breath taken away completely. 

“You... live here? Like... you own this place?” Ochako found herself dying over the marble everything, the flowers everywhere, the splashes of color from the expensive art, and the views outside. “Don’t be silly. This is only our vacation home! Daddy lives here sometimes while he’s recovering from injuries since he stays in America, but Mom and I stay in Japan. I obviously live at UA.” You smiled, walking out to the balcony from your bedroom. “Oh, I almost forgot! Here, you can choose whatever you want!”

You opened the closet to reveal a room the size of Ochako’s bedroom. Filled to the brim with clothes, shoes, jewelry, mirrors, and led lights. “Over the years of modeling I get a bunch of cute clothes! You should only imagine how much I have from when I did child modeling. Oh, and here! Pick out some jewelry for tonight. We can totally play dress up while we’re on vacay. We have to look famous, right?” You laughed, hugging Ochako while walking out of the closet. 

“Oh, and the purse rack is to your left! We can use that when we go shopping or out to eat! I have a bunch of LV so you can use one! I never use them anymore!” You giggled, smiling as you looked back at the view. “Pick out what you want to wear tonight, and a bathing suit for night swimming at the pool! I’ll go downstairs and give the chef recommendations! Any ideas?” You asked, sticking your head in the doorway. “N-n-nope!” Ochako called out as you ran downstairs.

Ochako’s eyes led to the big case of jewelry. It had so many gold chains, so many rings. Dozens and dozens of real pearl earrings. “I can’t... no. I have to.” She grabbed two pairs of pearl earrings, a gold chain, two rings that both had diamonds, and then a pair of heels. You were a size 8, but these were a size four. They were Ochako’s mom’s size. 

Without thinking, Ochako shoved them into her bag and zipped it back up. In the heat of the moment, Ochako looked around, desperate for more. She had found her solution! Steal from the rich and give to the poor! She easily had just taken over 5k from you, and you probably wouldn’t even blink. You would never suspect her, right? Of course you wouldn’t. You two had been flirting with each other since you met. You trusted her.

Ochako stopped herself, slapping herself in the face. “W-what are you doing? She trusts you! You fricking like her you dumb idiot!” She yelled at herself, looking around. No, she had to help her family, even a little bit. Just little things you wouldn’t even bat an eye at.

She took a ten dollar bill under your desk, stuffed the pencil pouch you had gotten from Italy, and easily slipped a Gucci perfume bottle into her bag. “Hey, Ochako!” Uraraka turned around to see you smiling ear-to-ear. “Happy early Christmas!” You held out your hand, revealing a tiny box. “H-huh?” She exclaimed, slowly taking it from you and gasping. Inside was a simple silver ring, polished and perfectly fitting for her small finger. “It’s a promise ring.” You walked closer to her. 

“As to promise that once we become heroes, we will remain friends.” Ochako stepped closer to you, staring at your lips. “And... maybe...” Ochako couldn’t finish her sentence as you two slammed your lips into each other. The kiss was hot and passionate, as if it was releasing all the thoughts you two had had for four years straight of having to resist. “God, once I found out you were gay.” You kissed Ochako’s neck as she tried to talk, moaning in between words. “Once he said LGBT, I knew I had to...” She moaned again, turning you on. You bent her on the bed, running kisses up and down her neck. 

As Ochako was about to remove her shirt, you stopped her. “Let’s save that for after dinner.” You winked, leaving her feeling teased. “So, what are we Y/n?” She asked, blushing from what you had just said. “Well it depends. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Just say the word.” You moved closer as she sat on your bed, getting closer and closer. “Be my girlfriend Y/n.” She whispered as you smiled, slowly kissing her lips. 

“Well then I guess that ring is more than a friendship ring. What do you think it means?” You asked, kissing her neck tenderly again. “I... don’t know. Once we have so many responsibilities next year, let’s stay together. Promise to make time for each other... and one day, settle down.” You sucked her neck extra hard as she said that. “We’re getting out of UA soon Y/n. Maybe we can move in together to... try things out.” She talked as you continued to kiss her neck.

 She had to admit you turned her on like nobody else could. “Awesome. Well, dinner is about ready. How about we go down and... introduce you to my family. I’m sure they’d love to meet my new... girlfriend. First, let’s get changed.” You walked over to your closet and pulled out an outfit you had prepared beforehand. A white t-shirt and black jeans, cute and tomboyish. 

“Oh, and I promise not to peek.” You winked, before facing away with your back to Uraraka. Ochako picked out a pink sweater and black skirt, thinking as she put it on. Is this wrong? Of course it is. But wouldn’t it be worse to deny this love for her and steal from her? At least she’s happy, look at her. The poor thing will never know, and eventually... you’ll forget all about it. Just... no more stealing.

But as time went on, Ochako found herself being the happiest she had ever been. She woke up to you two full-on making out in bed for at least half an hour, then would spend the entire day watching you model, then you two would eat, swim, walk around, and vacation. Of course... the days started to end even better. Nighttime was when you two couldn’t contain yourselves. There was a hot tub on the balcony right outside of your room, so you two couldn’t help yourself. Surely, you two had found yourselves naked while kissing once or twice. Sure you two were going fast, but Hawaii set the mood so much, and you two were so excited to release all the sexual tension from the past four years

Of course, Ochako also found herself getting more greedy as she adapted to the rich lifestyle. She slipped one of the nice soap dispensers, took one of you dad’s pairs of expensive sunglasses, stole another ten dollar bill she found under your bed, and had somehow managed to slip a Gucci robe from when you were six into her bag. It was stuffed to the brim, but she needed more. Her family would die if she didn’t.

Then, things turned for the worst that one night. “Ochako, let’s go night swimming!” You called out, reaching for her hand. “But I’m not wearing a bathing suit!” She yelled out instantly, still looking at herself in the mirror. You had straighten her hair, and she liked it. “Exactly.” You whispered into her ear as she grinded into you. “Okay then.” She responded, smiling as you two began to walk to the hot tub as you removed your shirt slowly, Ochako watching your every move. That was until you tripped over Ochako’s bag, falling to the ground. Along the way, a shatter could be heard from inside the bag. 

“Ochakie, I’m so sorry. What did I break?” Ochako blushed at the nickname you had given her, before realizing what you were doing. As you opened the bag, your eyes widened. Inside was your old Gucci robe, your new perfume, your soap dispenser, your dad’s sunglasses, and your old shoes along with a bunch of jewelry. 

Immediately your face turned bright red, looking up at her. “You...” You murmured angrily, standing up as she started crying. “I fucking trust you with everything and you stole from me!?” You yelled, not feeling bad at all. “You don’t understand! My family needs the money! They’re going to die if I don’t do something!” Ochako yelled, trying to defend herself. In an instant, you took out your wallet, slipping out five hundred-dollar bills and throwing them in her face. “Here’s your money Uraraka! Now where’s my trust! I was so ready to give you my virginity, give you my life! I wanted a life with you Ochako!” You began crying as she turned silent. “So that’s why you came? I wanted you, you wanted my money? Is that why you came? Is that why you kissed me?” You asked as she stared at you, trying to find words. 

“My dad has cancer! My mom is dying! I’m terrified Y/n! Please don’t be too mad at me! I needed all the money I could get quickly!” She yelled at you, still crying as you stopped. “Ochako, I could write you a check for a fucking hundred grand as we speak! You think that I would poor out my soul to you, but not help your fucking family?! Ochako, I gave you my trust and love! Do you know how hard that was?! But no, everyone just wants me for my money! Everyone! Even you!” Ochako tried to spill out words. 

She tried to tell you that she did love you, more than anything. She tried to tell you that she was obsessed with you, and that she wanted nothing more than to have you in her life. That the past few days had been the best in her entire life because of you. 

But no, all she could do was cry. 

All it took was one look in your eyes, your heartbroken eyes, for her to run out of the house. Out of the house, down the small path, and to the beach. The sunset was shining brightly, shimmering against Ochako’s tears. She was so mad at herself, and the fact that she had messed up the one amazing thing she had with you. Sure, money was great, but ever heard of love? Ochako had felt it only with you, and she had ruined it. Why hadn’t she thought of asking for your help? You were a hero god dammit, one of the most generous and giving jobs in the world. 

“God dammit! God Dammit! God dammit!” She kicked the sand, yelling as she stomped angrily. God... she should just throw herself into the ocean. After awhile of standing there, Ochako heard a noise behind her. “Oh dear, it’s just me. Tom and I are going to the country club’s cocktail party! We will be back around midnight sweetie. Y/n said to tell you to come inside, she’s getting worried. You crazy kids have fun!” Your mom called out as Ochako smiled before running inside and up to your room where you waited on your bed, a stuffed monkey in your life. 

“You know what I love about the Indian monkeys? They’re called gibbons. Funny name right?” You asked, looking up at Ochako as she nodded. She could see the mascara streaks running down your face, and she hated herself for causing that. “See, they’re cool though. Because, even if one of the monkeys makes a mistake like getting lost or eating too much of the food, they’re with their partners for life because they trust each other.” Ochako smiled sadly, understanding what you were saying. 

“When I went to India, I saw how they wouldn’t let you get close to their partners because they were protective, but if their partners walked up to you, they would allow that. It’s because they trust each other with their lives.” You got off your bed, setting the stuffed toy behind you as you walked towards your girlfriend. 

“I need to be able to trust you Uraraka. When- I mean... if we get married, all of this is going to be yours. There’s no need to steal it, you’re welcome to anything. Shoes, you bet. Want to use my perfume, go ahead. Wear my clothes, eat my food, live in my house. It’s all yours because I trust you. Right now, I need you in my life. I need to be able to trust you.” Ochako buried her face into your chest. 

“I’m so sorry Baby! It was the worst decision I could ever make! I got desperate and I did the worst thing imaginable! I’m so sorry!” She cried as you pulled her away. “In other news, both your parents are on my dad’s insurance and are going to start receiving medication right away. Don’t worry, my mom said they won’t have to pay a thing. 

She also said they can stay in our lake house if they want, it’s only a half hour away from UA.” In an instant, Uraraka started balling, pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” She freaked out, holding you as tight as she could. “I owe you so much! Let me do something for you! Anything!” She begged, desperate to do something nice for you like you had done for her.

“Get on the bed Baby.”

I felt extra gay while writing this but that’s not a bad thing sooooo. Honestly I’ve never found Ochaco cute until now so dangggg, thx bby. I always love your requests they make me so happy when I get one @drbumpkin

[she-is-tim]

P.S. I miss you | Elu Online friends AU | Ch.1

It’s been since a month now that Eliott started to talk to this interesting boy on instagram. They get along well and it’s just a safe place for him to go back to when things are getting too much in his life. But january is here and he’s about to start at his new school. What he doesn’t expect is to bump into the person he’s been texting with. Suddenly Eliott’s life going upside down as he both tries to approach and avoid Lucas at the same time. 

The New Student

Eliott got up from his bed, turning off the alarm he snoozed at least five times in the last ten minutes. He got used to sleeping in during the holidays and this morning he felt extra grumpy for needing to wake up early. New school, new people, on hist last year. Gotta be a real fun ride, huh? He yawned, running his fingers through his messy hair and walked to the bathroom, taking care of his morning needs, such as peeing, brushing teeth and washing his face. When he was done, he took off the old shirt and shorts he was using as pyjamas, putting on light blue jeans and a black shirt. Before getting into his hoodie and going to the kitchen for breakfast, maybe some coffee, he grabbed his phone, unplugging it from the charger and checked his instagram. There was one new message. He quickly opened it, not being aware of the wide smile that spread across his face.

lucallemant Uhg, I hate waking up early

srodulv You tell me?  New school and all, remember? 

lucallemant Fuck, really That sucks

srodulv Wish me luck

lucallemant Should I send kisses? 

srodulv Oh, being playful so early in the morning?  I love that 

lucallemant It’s the Eli affect for sure 

srodulv So I’m affecting you?  Good to know 

lucallemant Shut up  Weirdo 

srodulv This weirdo have to get ready for school Talk later? 

lucallemant Good luck ❤️

srodulv ❤️

He was still smiling like an idiot as he got to the kitchen, making himself some toast and reheating some coffee from yesterday. It wasn’t the most healthy breakfast, but he could get on with it at least. Before leaving he pocketed his phone, put on his favorite brown jacket and left the apartment with his bag on his shoulder. Suddenly he started feeling really nervous. Through the past month neither he or Lucas had many things to do, so they were texting (and flirting) back and forth basically all day, but now they are going to have classes, homework, studies. It made him feel anxious to think about that he can’t share things with him, because he will be busy. 

With a sudenly appeared lump in his throat, he got off the bus at the stop nearest to his new high school. He pulled up his hoodie both as a protection from cold and from the curious eyes. He put in his earphones, turning on some dubstep, making sure the volume is high enough for him to cover the possible whispers, but not too loud to hear if anyone tries to talk to him. 

He walked through the school gates, trying to blend into the other students that arrived the same time. Everyone is busy greeting each other after the long holiday break, so he has good chances of not being spotted as the new kid. He almost made it to the building, people around him went off to their own way, when a small group of guys were coming towards him. They were so busy talking about something, that they didn’t notice Eliott. One of them even bumped his shoulders into him, but he kept talking with so much passion that was unreal in such early hours. The tall boy was so intrigued by these guys, that he stopped, turning around to see them, but all he saw was him. 

He felt like someone pulled the ground from under him, letting him spin and fall in the endless pit. His stomach flipped, his heart skipped a beat, then started beating faster than a race horse. He couldn’t believe that it was Lucas, but he saw his photos on instagram so many times that he could pinpoint him in the biggest crowd anytime. He was even more beautiful in person, his hair seemed soft, bouncing up and down as he walked. His smile was brighter than the sun. The only thing that surprised Eliott was his height, he was so tiny.

He looked down, then back up again, realizing that Lucas and his friends disappeared from his sight already. He swallowed the lump in his throat, continuing his way to the principal’s office. He had to get some things done before starting his classes. Deep inside he was fighting a battle with himself, incapable of forgetting his accidental meeting with his online friend... crush actually.

He was on lunch break, spending it outside on a bench, munching on his cold cheese toast and drinking orange juice. He could only start eating at the cafeteria tomorrow, so he had to bring food with himself from home, which was a bad idea, considering how bad of a cook he was. Suddenly his meal seemed even less intriguing when his phone buzzed, letting him know that he got a new notification. 

lucallemant So, how’s the new school?  I’m bored out of my mind 

srodulv It’s okay so far Eating cold cheesetoast  Delicious~

lucallemant Eugh! That’s disgusting Why aren’t you eating in the cafeteria? 

srodulv No tickets, only tomorrow

lucallemant I’m eating some weird looking pasta It doesn’t taste as bad as it looks like though

srodulv Well, I’m just gonna bury my sadness into my cheesetoast then 

lucallemant You are being unnecessarily dramatic

srodulv I’m craving for your attention 

lucallemant Yeah, right Dramatic

srodulv I like to label myself as romantic

lucallemant Sure, whatever Gotta go, the boys are bugging me for texting so much

srodulv Talk later then  ❤️

lucallemant Talk later  ❤️

Eliott sighed, pocketing his phone with a silly smile. He couldn’t remember when they started to use hearts when they said goodbye to each other, but since then both of them are doing it and it’s just so wholesome. It makes his heart flutter everytime. He was so in depth with his thoughts that he didn’t notice the girl standing in front of him, hands on her waist, so he startles when she says hi. He looks up and his face falls. Imane, wearing a nice headband over her braided locks, makeup is on point like always, her eyes piercing like a sharp knife. He swallows.

“Hey!” that’s all he can force out. He’s supposed to be the older one, but who the hell could be brave when someone is looking at them with such a mad expression. He knew Imane wasn’t a bad person, but she still had a tough personality, which won her the respect from Eliott. 

“Didn’t know you are going to my school.” she said it so casualy, like he was owing her any explanations to which school he attends to.

“This is my first day.” he shrugged. “Didn’t the boys tell you that I’m changing schools?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Idriss usually shared every little thing with Imane, but probably he just forgot to mention this, since both him and Sofiane already graduated last year, there weren’t much talk about school between the three boys. 

“No.” she shook her head, expression easing a little now. “Problems in the other school?” he asked with so much understanding that it basically hurt Eliott. She knew exactly how it feels like to be different from others, wanting to break out of your previous life and start things over. He smiled at her softly.

“Something like that.” he admitted, trying to brush off the question. It was for the best if no one knows about his bipolarity in the new school. He was already grateful that neither Idriss or Sofiane shared that information with the girl. It was his private secret and he didn’t wanted anyone to pity him or think that he’s crazy. Especially not Lucas. 

“I see.” she nodded, not pushing forward the topic, which Eliott was forever grateful for. “We will have this thing.” she said, giving him a little piece of paper, well put together leaflet that was advertising some common room meeting. The boy raised his eyebrows in quiestion. “My friend is really excited about this, she wants to bring something new to the school, a place were people can meet up, talk and get to know each other.” she explained with a soft smile that made her look even more beautiful. “Can you come? We need people to be there, so she can go on with this project.” 

“Yeah, sure.” he said and shrugged, putting the paper in the pocket of his jeans. “It might be even useful for me, since I know noone here.” he said smirking, trying not to remember how big of a lie that was. He knew someone, and he knew him really well. 

“Cool, see you there then.” she said with a victorious smirk and walked away, probably back to her friends. Eliott sighed, throwing the rest of his toast and his empty juice box into the trash, walking back inside to his next class. 

The week passed by pretty calmly, Eliott decided to just avoid Lucas at school, which wasn’t hard since they weren’t in the same year. Also the short boy had no idea how Eliott looks like, neither he knew his full name. He once sent him a picture of his pet snake, Nagini wrapped around his neck, but he made sure his face is not showing on the photo. Oh yes, Eliott had a fucking snake as a pet, named him after the snake of Voldemort and loves him more than anything. He is that kind of nerd. Obviously he managed to freak Lucas out with that fact, but he only needed a week to get over it and now he sometimes just casualy asks how Nagi is doing, which makes Eliott’s heart melt each time.  

By friday he was kinda comfortable in his new school, even made friends with a cool guy called Alex. He was super chill, super nice and vegetarian. Eliott sadly couldn’t live without meat in his life, but he had huge respect for those who chose that path voluntarily. He was a bit disappointed when Alex said that he’s not going to the common room, because he knew just enough people and he also had basketball practice too. So accepting his fate, Eliott made his way to the place.

As he walked inside with a hopeful smile on his face, he noticed that he was probably a few minutes late, since the girls at the front were already talking. Thankfully the door was wide open so he didn’t got anyone’s attention by coming in and sat down to the closest chair he found. He catched a disapproving look from Imane, but she also had a smug smile on her face. He smirked back at her and for some reason he looked through the crowd. A lot of people came, which was really nice, since the blonde girl, Daphné if he remembered correctly seemed happy. She was probably the one initiating this whole thing.

His eyes almost wandered back to the girls in front of the group, when he caught a pair of blue irises staring at him. He felt like time froze right then and there as he stared back at Lucas. His heart was thumping in his ears, making him impossible to hear anything that is being said by the girls. He watched the boy swallow and turning back to his friends as they snapped him back to reality. Eliott was never so grateful for anything in his life, but he felt like if the boy would be staring just a few seconds longer at him, he would just launch himself at him, kissing the living hell out of those cherry lips. 

He tried to focus now on what Daphné was saying, she gave surveys to the ones in the front to spread it to everyone. Eliott was glad he was sitting far from Lucas, so they wouldn’t get in contact as the students passed papers and pens around. He grabbed a pen and a survey, then giving the pack to the next person. It was hard to pay attention to the quiestions when he kept hearing Lucas and his friends whispering. Hearing his voice made things much harder. Not like he didn’t hear it before, but only in videos and insta stories as he was goofing around with friends. This was different. His heart skipped a beat when he heard him laughing. He had to get out as quick as possible. 

The meeting took much longer than he expected it to, Daphné was a really talkative person and Eliott didn’t had the guts to leave in the middle. He was sure that Imane would cut off his balls the next time she sees him, so he stayed, trying to close Lucas out of his head, but it was an impossible task, since he kept glancing at Eliott from time to time. For fucks sake, Lucas, focus on what your friend says! 

He made his way to the bus stop as fast as possible, hoping that he doesn’t have to wait too long. When he arrived, he realized how hungry he was, so he stepped to the vending machine that was standing there behind the stop like an angelic blessing for his growling stomach. He looked through all the snacks inside, lifting his right hand to his mouth, running his fingers over his lips as he tried to consider which one would be the best choice. After some minutes he heard footsteps too close to him to be just one of the passing by people. He looked to his side and almost got a heart attack when he saw Lucas standing there, having a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh, fuck! I didn’t notice you there.” he stuttered, much more calmly than he was actually feeling. “I just don’t know what to get.” he explained himself, feeling like a complete idiot that he couldn’t just buy something and leave. 

“The 24 one isn’t that bad.” Lucas said and fuck if his voice wasn’t the smoothest thing he ever heard in his life. Also that fucking scarf wrapped around him like three times, consuming half of his face. When Lucas cocked an eyebrow up, that’s when he noticed that he was just staring silently, so he quickly started to look for the coins in his pocket, but managing to drop half of them as he pulled his hand out. He cursed under his breath and leant down to pick them up, but halfway his head knocked into Lucas, both of them stumbling back in surprise, pressing their palms on their foreheads. 

“Woah, I’m sorry.” Eliott mumbled, being terrified of what the short boy is thinking about him now. He used to be so fucking confident as they were texting, why he had to be such a clumsy idiot right now? 

“I wasn’t expecting that for sure.” Lucas replied, a soft giggle leaving his mouth, making Eliott’s heart skip a beat. Yepp, he definitely has a crush on this boy.

“Let me buy you something as an apology.” he mumbled quickly as he knelt down to pick up the coins he dropped, this time without knocking his head to Lucas’. As he straightened up, he catched those ocean blue eyes, seeing something special in them, a playful spark maybe? He swallowed and turned to the machine.

“Sure, get me one of those chocolate bars.” he nodded his head towards the machine. Eliott just nodded and started putting coins into the little hole, pushing the right buttons, then doing it for the second time. He took a deep breath, taking the chocolates out and turning to the short boy, handing him one. 

“Here.” he said softly, trying not to drop it or do anything stupid again, making even a bigger fool of himself. 

“Thanks.” Lucas said smiling and took the chocolate. Eliott was expecting him to eat it there, but he instead pocketed it and puled out something from his jacket. When he noticed what it was, he stared at him in disbelief. “Wanna share a joint?” he asked smirking, raising his eyebrows in a challenge. The fuck is this supposed to be, Lucas? He screamed inside his head.

“Sure.” he shrugged, sounding much more uninterested than he actually was. They walked back to the bus stop, sitting down to the cold steel seats, not exactly next to each other because no homo and all. 

Lucas lit the joint, taking a long drag from it and then handing it to the tall boy while blowing out the smoke. Eliott was just a little starstruck by that, but he took the cigarette, placing between his lips, inhaling the stuff. He wasn’t able to smoke since a while now, considering that both Idriss and Sofiane made sure that he has no access to blunts at parties. 

“Are you new?” Lucas asked after long minutes of silent smoking. The weed was kicking in, making Eliott relaxed and much more calm. His heart wasn’t racing anymore and his thoughts were too fuzzy to overthink this situation, he was just enjoying it. 

“Yeah, I just arrived.” he responded, handing the joint back to the short boy. “Third year, Literature.” that wasn’t necessary to share, but he still wanted Lucas to know. They never talked about school that much for him to realize that his new guy is actually the Eli he is texting with since a month now. 

“Five months before Bac?” he raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit weird?” he asked and every little part of Eliott wanted to scream, because Lucas is so fucking obsessed with the word “weird” that it’s ridiculous. 

“Are you trying to say that I’m weird?” he asked on a playful tone and he watched as the boy’s face falls, trying to explain himself, when a girl appeared from nowhere, jumping in front of him.

“Hey! How are you?” she asked with way too much enthusiasm than Eliott could endure. She was pretty though, long brown hair tied up, soft face, beautiful smile. Anything a teenager boy could wish for. 

“I’m fine. And you?” Lucas didn’t really sound interested as he was speaking, but the girl seemed to not notice that. What she noticed was the joint in the short boy’s hand, she beamed and her smile grew bigger. “Can I?” she asked and Lucas just shrugged, handing her the joint. She sat down right between the boys, taking a drag from the cigarette, focusing her vision only on Lucas, which started to annoy Eliott. 

“That meeting was nice, right?” she asked, trying to initiate a conversation between them. 

“Yeah, it was okay.” the short boy answered, taking back his joint from her.

“The survey was a great idea too.” she added and Eliott couldn’t hold himself back now, he had to say something. He leant forward, to be close to this girl that was getting on his nerves.

“I think it was weird.” he said, startling her with his sudden pesence, but she looked at him with that annoyingly bright smile. 

“How rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself.” she said on a happy tone, reaching out her hand. “I’m Chloé.” she chimed and the tall boy had no choice but to accept her hand and shake it. 

“Eliott.” he said smiling a little, catching the glance of Lucas, who had all his attention on him instead of this pretty girl. He felt satisfied with that. “I’m Eliott.” he repeated, this time addressing it directly to Lucas who shot him a smile. 

“I’m Lucas.” 

Then an awkward silence fell on them, just passing around the joint quietly. When the bus arrived, Eliott got up and said goodbye to the two, mostly focusing on Lucas. He had a soft smile on his face which made the tall boy’s heart flutter in his chest. During the whole ride home he was smiling like a fucking idiot and not just because he was high. He was almost at his stop when his phone was buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket and was surprised that it was a message from Lucas.

lucallemant Today was so busy Sorry for not texting you all day

srodulv No worries I also had a busy day

lucallemant Done with the first week though How was it? 

srodulv Not too bad I made some friends

lucallemant Shit, that’s awesome I’m happy for you 

Eliott couldn’t answer immediately, because he had to get off the bus and walk home. His phone was basically burning in his pocket, begging him to grab it and answer Lucas. As he walked into the flat, throwing his jacket on the hanger by the door, he went to his room to make sure Nagi is alright. He was rolled up in the corner of his terrarium, probably sleeping. After that he walked back to the living room, throwing himself on the couch and taking his phone into his hands. He got another message from Lucas.

lucallemant I actually met someone today

His heart skipped a beat and his hands started to sweat. What was he supposed to answer that? Yeah, I know, because that person is me? That is so fucking stupid. He should be honest with Lucas, they were always honest with each other. He knew about the bad mental state of the boy’s mother and Eliott hinted a couple times in their conversations that he also has some mental issues, not wording out that he’s bipolar, but he knew that Lucas put the pieces together. 

srodulv Oh yeah?  Already ditching me for someone else? 

lucallemant Hahaha I would never ditch my favorite stalker

srodulv You have multiple stalkers now?  What else I don’t know? 

lucallemant Oh shut up

srodulv ❤️

lucallemant I hate you 

srodulv No, you don’t 

lucallemant  You got some serious confidence, huh? 

srodulv I just know you  And I know that you can’t resist my intense charm 

lucallemant What charm? 

srodulv Ouch, my heart  That was mean, Lulu

lucallemant So, how is Nagini doing? 

Eliott smirked at his phone. This little shit often used stupid questions like this to avoid continuing a coversation. 

srodulv He’s sleeping

lucallemant  Good then 

srodulv So, you menationed that you met someone today

lucallemant Yeah, nothing special though He seems like a cool dude, but he might be weirder than you 

srodulv Is that even possible? 

His face was hurting from all the smiling, but he couldn’t stop. It was so sweet that Lucas was talking about him, while he had no idea that it was Eliott he met with. 

lucallemant Guess it is

srodulv Maybe you’re attracting weird people 

lucallemant  Thinking about my friends, that must be true

srodulv Still, I’m your favorite weirdo, right? 

lucallemant Of course  ❤️  You are weirdest weirdo I know 

srodulv That is so touching You are my favorite hedgehog too 

lucallemant  Like you have any other hedgehogs 

srodulv Oh, someone seems jealous I can reassure you that my heart only belongs to you  ❤️

lucallemant If only I could roll a joint with it... 

srodulv Every rejection is making my feelings stronger  Just so you know

lucallemant Shut up and go to sleep already

srodulv How mean We barely talked today and you want me to leave? 

lucallemant I just know that if you don’t go to sleep right now, we will be up until 3am talking about the global warming or shit 

srodulv That’s actually an interesting topic...

lucallemant Shower and bed, Eli Shower and bed

srodulv Only if you could join me

lucallemant I believe that you can fix that with some imagination 

Eliott had to take a deep breath after reading that last message. Lucas was always more flirty when he was drunk or high, he realized this just a few weeks ago. Lucas went out a party on saturday, just something organized by one of his friends to celebrate the last days of the holidays. He sent some messages while being at the party, but after it when he was totally high, he kept bombing Eliott with sweet, but for him probably really awkward text. He even asked for a dick pic. Eliott laughed his ass off that night and the next morning too when Lucas was apologizing rapidly. 

He sighed, trying to focus his attention back on his phone, but his mind started to wander off to his meeting with Lucas. He couldn’t get it out of his head how the boy looked at him in the common room. That was the very first time he saw Eliott, not knowing who he was and still there was some strange connection between them in that exact moment. He knew that Lucas felt it just like him. He quickly shook his head, looking back at his phone, typing a reply.

srodulv Good night then, Lulu  ❤️

lucallemant Good night  ❤️

Okay guys, hit me up with your opinions on this new story. Do you like it? There will be a lot of texts, lots of flirting and disaster Eliott! I was so fucking excited that I finished this chapter within a day, don’t blame me, I was waiting to write this story since days now. Bisou 

[alliswell21]

Older!Peeta for your prompt request?

Hi Anon! This Prompt has been in my inbox for an embarrassing long time. But it just kept growing and getting away from me. So, it’s not a drabble anymore. It’s a 4500+ word one shot, and I hope you like it.

Rated G.

>>—————>

He’s wiping the preparation table when I walk onto the threshold of the back door to his bakery. I linger a moment, just to admire the flex of his strong, muscly arms, before clearing my throat, alerting him of my presence.

Ha startled a little when he looks up, but as soon as he realizes is me, he smiles broadly, making my breath hitch and my knees falter. The man is in his early thirties, give or take some ten years my senior, but I can’t help the way my stomach flips every time he smiles, regardless of if it’s directed at me or someone else.

“Hello, Katniss! What can I do you for?” The young baker says throwing his rag over his shoulder, making his way to meet me.

I step forward, trying not to trip on my own feet. Every time we trade I hope he doesn’t catch up on the humongous crush I have on him. I would die of embarrassment if he did.

“Hi, Mr. Mellark. I have a couple of squirrels in my bag, in case you’re interested.” I say with my best smile, one I secretly save just for him.

“You know I’m always interested in your squirrels, Katniss! I love me a fresh game stew.” He says, winking at me, making my heart rush.

I can’t hold his gaze, my cheeks are burning. I try to shove down my silly infatuation to close the deal already and retreat to the street, where my heated face and neck can cool off.

I busy myself rooting around my bag, choosing the thickest critters while mindlessly responding to his comment.

“We usually fry ours. Especially if I get too many and can’t trade them all for something else. Having a whole fried squirrel to oneself is alright when there ain’t anything else besides.”

I pull two fat squirrels out of the bag triumphantly, but when I raise my eyes, my smile falters. I think he was looking at me with pity or something in that realm, it’s hard to tell, since almost immediately his eyes took his usual warm, jovial quality. But I’m still mortified, the last thing I want is for him to pity me. He’s the only person to ever showed me compassion in this town, and I don’t want him to worry about my wellbeing; I can take care of myself and my family now.

When I was eleven, there was an explosion in the coal mines where my father worked. My father was one of the few lucky ones to come to the surface with his life tightly grasped. Father suffered third degree burns over most of his body, his boots melted to his skin. The town doctor had to amputate both legs. Father was alive and eventually recovered from his many injuries, but the accident had effectively rendered him employable any longer.

The fear, anger and helplessness I felt then almost ate me whole; of it hadn’t been for Mr. Peeta Mellark, my whole family would’ve starved to death, but here we are still, and I want him to know we’re okay now.

“Fried squirrels are a perfect meal on their own. Why mess it up with sides if you can help it?” I smile at him weakly.

“True. But if you ever have an overstock on game of any type, don’t hesitate on coming here to trade. I host family supper with my folks, my brothers and their families every so often. More meat in the stew will always be a plus!” His smile is so sweet and genuine, I have no choice but to agree.

“Will do.”

He looks over the squirrels with a satisfied smile on his lips and nods in approval, which makes me burst with pride and joy; he turns to bag a loaf of bread from a nearby tray and while he’s doing it, he asks conversationally, “So, are looking forward to the festival tonight?”

“Yes. Nothing like my sister, though. But I am looking forward to it. Daddy is coming too. It should be nice.”

“That’s great news about your father,” he says looking at me over his shoulder. “I bet your mother will have her hands full, caring for him and shooing away all the boys that’ll come asking you for a dance,” his eyes are full of mirth as he hands me the bread.

My mother, is the daughter of the most trusted apothecary in town, she’s a very respected and sought out healer, but caring for Daddy became a full time job for her for a while, leaving me as the sole breadwinner for the household.

I’m uncomfortable with the last part of the baker’s comment, but I try to hide it. “Oh, not really. I don’t get asked to dance much,” is a statement, and I’m completely fine with it, but Mr. Mellark is frowning, like he can’t believe it, so I add, “I’m not the dancing type, anyway. I’ll be too busy making sure Prim’s line of admires doesn’t get out of hand.” I smile.

“Surely that fellow, Gale Hawthorne, will like to take you into the dance floor for a spin?” The baker asks doubtful.

I shake my head. “He’ll most likely be too preoccupied watching over his siblings for that.” I shrug.

I think he’s about to say something else, but I cut him off pretending I didn’t notice, informing him Prim will be over tomorrow with some of her goat cheese. Four years ago, I was able to get a nanny goat for my sister. Now we have two goats that produce good milk. Primrose, makes cheese and sells it. She does well with her cheeses.

The baker and I conclude our business quickly after that, and I hurry home before the baker has a chance to start talking about the festival again. I’m exhausted from having to keep in check all my feelings and emotions in front of the baker while we traded. Is a taxiing chore being polite and friendly without showing my affection for the man, I doubt he’ll be thrilled to learn of my crush anyway. Is a well known fact that the man is very selective where women are concerned.

The baker, Mr. Peeta Mellark, is single, relatively young and very attractive. Women of all ages flock to his shop like flies to a flame. He’s also very well off being one of two bakers in town— the other one is his oldest brother, who’s married with children of his own— but Mr. Peeta has only been romantically linked to a couple of ladies in the last few years, and none of the relationships progressed to marriage. I know is silly, but I like him not being linked to anyone, it just makes my crush on the man feel harmless, at least this way, the only heart that could get potentially hurt is mine.

My family is already preparing for the festivities when I step into my home, and my mother sends me straight to the washroom, where a tub with warm water awaits me. After I’m rid of the grime of the day, my mother lets me wear one of her dresses from when she was young, a very femenin blue number with matching blue shoes. She puts my hair in an elaborate updo and Prim swoons dreamily, imagining there would be a line of boys trying to ask me to dance with them.

I snort.

It seems my sister and the baker mistake me for something I’m not. Nobody wants to dance with a scrawny, dark, scowling girl, with too many responsibilities and mouths to feed to be paying any attention to suitors. Of course, I don’t say any of this out loud because Prim seems happy, and there’s so little instances in which she can let her imagination romanticize my life anyway, I let her be for the night. Tomorrow will bring reality way too fast, there’s no reason to rush into it.

At seven o'clock, my mother and I sit Daddy in his wheelchair, while Prim pushes it carefully out of the living room and unto the small ramp running down the porch steps. Mother takes over and Prim and I simply flank our mother’s sides while we make our way to the town square.

Everyone is in attendance, the Harvest Festival being one of the few events our small community celebrates in unison. This year they went all out with the decorations; fairy lights hang criss crossed from building to building overhead all over the square. Small bouquets of wildflowers and sprigs of wheat and even a small fruit can be found tied with strips of burlap to light poles or benches all over the place; and the smell of spiced cider fills the air, making it feel warm and cozy, though is completely packed in here.

There are a few booths where one can buy cider, candied apples or pastries, circling the square perimeter. Prim squeals when Daddy gives a coin and sends her away to get peppermints from the sweets’s table. A group of men with mismatched instruments play music in the gazebo on the opposite corner of the square; that’s where Daddy wants to go, because he started playing the harmonica with the fiddler a few months ago, and the man invited my father to join ‘the band’ for the festival. The problem is that my mother and I can’t lift Daddy’s chair up the four steps into the gazebo.

We start looking around for either Gale or his brothers, so we can figure something out, but before my neck gets permanently stretched like a lamp post, Peeta Mellark materializes out of nowhere, and lifts my father— chair and all— over and on the wooded structure, all by himself. My parents thank him profusely, but the baker waves them off humbly, saying it was his pleasure.

He smiles at me for a moment; I think he blushes, but he tears his eyes away much too fast. I realize he could’ve been just flushed with exertion. He did just haul a grown man in a wheelchair a good foot and a half from the ground or so.

Daddy won’t let him go yet, though, “Alright, I’m a man of tradition. You do something nice for me, and in return, I’d like to do something nice for you. What’s your favorite song, sir? I know the band will be happy to perform it, and dedicate it to you. Who knows, maybe you’ll have an excuse to bring a pretty lady out on the dance floor?”

Mr. Mellark scratches the back of his head, “I’m manning my booth over there. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to close it for the night, but there’s this one song…” I believe his eyes flick in my direction for a moment, but he shuffles on his feet, and continues, “The Valley song. I know is a slow one, and I doubt I’ll dance it out with anyone, but if the band can squeeze the request in…” He Let’s the words hang in the air scratching his neck again.

“I’ll see what we can do! Thank you again for your help, mr. Mellark.”

“Peeta.” He says quickly, and brings his hand forward to shake Daddy’s. “Mr. Mellark is still my father.” He smiles.

Daddy nods. “Hunter Everdeen, harmonica player extraordinaire.”

We all chuckle at that and the baker walks off after another hand shake and a nod to mother and me. My heart is beating so fast, I think I’ll break a sweat in a minute without a way to explain it, so I make some excuse and head out find Prim, who’s been gone way longer than expected.

After finding Prim sitting on a bench with her school friends and the younger Hawthorne boys, I figure I should visit with my own friends… except my only friends are Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne, and the two are currently pressed together in the middle of the dance floor barely stepping in a small circle, although the music is too lively and fast for their slow pace. I scowl, not really jealous because they seem to be sweet on each other, but jealous because they can dance with someone they like, and no one thinks anything of it.

“I guess that’s why you were so adamant nobody wanted to ask you to the dance floor.”

I startled, though the voice speaking over my shoulder is deep, velvety soft and full of something like concern. I turn around to find blue eyes watching Gale and Madge with a frown.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to dance with Hawthorne. I’m even more sorry for pestering you about it earlier. I apologize if I caused any distress.” Peeta Mellark says quietly, this time looking straight at me.

I shake my head, smiling. “Nah. Is not like that. When I graduated school, Gale asked me out. I turned him down because I didn’t feel like that for him, but I knew Madge did. I’m glad he finally realized it and gave it a chance.”

“But… you don’t seem happy.” He observes.

“It’s not about them.” I say. “I just, I’m almost twenty, and the only prospect in my future is joining the mine crews to help out at home. We do alright with Prim’s cheese, Mother’s healing, and my hunting for now, but once Prim graduates and marries, then things will get more difficult.”

The baker’s frown deepens, and I realize I’ve gone and run my mouth, worrying the only person that ever cared to lend a hand.

Is true we are better than most families in our neighborhood, The Seam, but that wasn’t true right after Daddy’s accident. The mines paid the equivalent of three months salary as termination when it was clear he wouldn’t be coming back to work. The money ran out despite all of our stretching and maneuvering. It got to the point only Prim and Daddy were eating, while mother and I went without, although mother never found out about I wasn’t eating, but saving my portions for Prim’s school lunches. The day we only had mint leaves broth for supper, I knew we were in big trouble. There was no money, Mother wasn’t tending patients because Daddy needed tending all day and night, and I decided to go sell whatever we had of value in the house.

When my plan to sell our old baby clothes failed, then I resorted to look through waste bins for any scrap of food. A teenaged Peeta Mellark found me digging through the bakery’s trash on a bitterly cold, rainy day that awful winter, and instead of chasing me away like his mama would’ve done, he gave me two loaves of the most delicious bread I’ve ever eaten. The loaves were full of nuts, raisins and grains, hearty and filling, and the first solid food we’ve had in three days.

I was so relieved to have some food, I hugged his waist and cried, but his mother finally caught on in what he’d done, and started screaming at him, berating him for being soft and gullible, giving away good bread to Seam rats; I was so scared of the old baker’s wife— it wasn’t for nothing her nickname was The Witch— I took off running with the warm bread under my shirt burning my skin, for fear the witch would take my precious food away. I faintly heard Mr. Peeta said he’d give bread away again if he ever saw a starving kid in need. I had the bad luck to turn back to see him once more before rounding a corner, right as his mother struck him across the face, screeching the most horrible things imaginable.

I didn’t stop running until I was safely home, with the bread pressed against my chest for dear life. Nobody asked me where the bread had come from, maybe too afraid to know the answer. It was Peeta Mellark’s gift that gave me the idea of foraging the woods. The next day I saw the young baker had a bruise under his eye, compliments of his witch of a mother. I was too horrified by it, I’ve never actually seen a parent hitting their own child for something that was actually good and generous, so it took me a long time to return to the bakery, but when I did, I had game to bargain with, and the smile on young Peeta’s face is something I’ll treasure forever.

“I’m not complaining about my lot in life—“

“You’re almost twenty, you said?” He asks, his voice unsure, his eyes searching.

I nod and the corner of his mouth twitches. “That’s good!” He says, his face turning crimson red. His hand goes back to scratch the back of his neck, and I start thinking it’s some sort of nervous reaction. I find it endearing, really. “I have to go back to mind my booth, but please, come find me when your father is ready to get down from up there, I want to help.”

I don’t get to accept or decline his offer, he walks quickly back to the line forming at his table, leaving me puzzled with our short interaction.

The rest of the night goes by, I do get to spend time with Gale and Madge, but since they keep making puppy eyes at each other, I leave them alone and go say hello to other people I know, mostly very loyal clients I’m on a first name basis with, like Rooba the butcher, Delly the cobbler, and Sae the street vendor that buys whatever meat I have no matter the critter, her stews are legendary, but nobody asks what’s in them.

Around eleven, my mother flags me down to let me know Daddy is feeling tired already, although he denies it vehemently. I round Prim up, who’s been dancing half the night with a different boy every time I see her. She doesn’t complain when I tell her is time to go, in fact she smiles gratefully. I guess she’s tired of the attention. We head back to the gazebo, and then I remember to go fetch Mr. Peeta, but his booth is already packed and closed for the night. The baker is nowhere to be seen, until I turn to the gazebo disappointed, just to see him already there, speaking to my parents.

“Hmm… I wonder what’s up with Daddy’s face?” Says Prim looking at our father.

She’s right, Daddy has a serious expression, the beginning of small frown tugging at his brow. Then his eyes find me in the crowd, asqe make our way to them, and then his features soften, a quizzical look takes his face. He looks back at the baker and gives a small nod. Mr. Peeta seems to breath in deeply, a big smile covers his face and he takes my father’s hand in an enthusiastic shake. In a moment, he lifts the chair with my father in it, and places it on the ground. Mother takes the handles and pushes it, so we meet on the outside of the square, ready to head home.

“So, Katniss, dear, Mama and I are heading home for the night, but Peeta here has offered to escort you and Prim back home by midnight.” My father’s voice is deep and scratchier than usual. He spares the baker a quick look, “He’s asked my permission to take you out for a dance, if you agree?” Daddy is looking at me now, his eyes knowing but soft.

My mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out, Prim loops her arm around mine and squeezes it to her side.

“She’d love to dance with Mr. Mellark, and I’ll sit with Hazelle and Posy Hawthorne until it’s time to head home.” Says Prim happily.

I nod, still too stunned to say anything. My eyes travel from my father’s to Mr. Peeta’s, not truly hiding my surprise until I notice how nervous the baker is, standing beside my parents.

“If that’s okay with you, of course. I wouldn’t dream of imposing—“

“Okay!” I gasp out.

Peeta Mellark’s relieves sigh matches perfectly how I feel inside. He smiles sweetly at me, then thanks my parents, offering his arm to me.

“May I say that you look absolutely breathtaking tonight?” He says after a few minutes dancing quietly.

“Oh… thank you.” I say shyly.

“Really!” He says beseechingly. “When I saw you walk in with your family… my heart stopped for a second. I couldn’t breathe right… heck, I still can’t breathe right. You are just stunning.”

I smile to my boots, too overcome to meet his eyes. “You look nice too.” I say, because he always looks nice, even covered and flour and frosting.

The fiddler up in the gazebo announces the last song of the night, “The Valley song, special request from Mr. Peeta Mellark. Enjoy!”

The soft notes of the mountain air come sweet and full as Mr. Peeta’s smile thins out.

“You know why I chose this song?” He asks me.

I shake my head.

“You used to sing it with your daddy when he brought you over for trades when you were a child, you used to wear your hair in two braids, instead of one back then. You remember?”

I nod, “I do. He has the loveliest voice.”

“So do you.” He says. “The birds stop to listen when you sing.” He smiles sadly, “You stopped when he got hurt. It pained me to know the world had lost two songbirds to the mines, one to injuries, the other to hunger.”

I tense in his arms, but he doesn’t stop holding me as he speaks.

“Then, one day, you came by and you were singing again, The Valley song. Your hair was in the single braid already, and you looked so grown. Your game bag was bursting with meat and greens and I knew you’d be alright. I felt happy. The song became synonymous of hope to me.

“And then, last year, you came to trade with me, and rolled your eyes at a joke I botched, most other women laugh even though is not funny. I loved that you found me corny, because that meant you weren’t like the other women, and it hit me, you’ve grown again, and you were magnificent!

“But Gale Hawthorne was standing a few paces behind you, and pulled on the end of your braid when you started walking back home before you shoved his hand away playfully. I thought it’d be a matter of time before I was making your wedding cake, and then I realized the thought made my chest tighten with sadness and jealousy, no matter if the groom was Gale or some other person.

“I felt like a pervert, because you were so young. The problem is that I felt invested in your survival when you were a kid, and then I couldn’t stop admiring your resourcefulness. Turns out I’m eight years older than you, I just feels like the gap is so much bigger when you’ve watched the person grow up before your eyes.

“I figured, next year you’ll be twenty, and age won’t matter as much when we’re in the same bracket, so I asked your father if it was alright to court you. He said that was up to you, but I could start by walking you home tonight, with Prim as chaperone”

I snort at that. Prim is possible the poorest choice in chaperone my father could’ve make. Knowing my sister, she’ll be picking out the names of her potential nieces and nephews by now, and she doesn’t even know this conversation is happening.

Peeta interrupts my musing then, “Maybe, if you find me worthy at all, I’ll be making your wedding cake a happy man this time around next year, because I will be your groom.” The uncertainty in his voice is painful. “I know that’s too far out in the future, but would you consider it?”

“Marrying you?” I ask astonished.

He scowls, and tries to dislodge from me, “Well… I understand if the idea is too—“

“Okay!” I rush breathlessly, clawing at his shirt sleeves to keep him in place.

“Okay?” He poses dazedly, “You’ll allow it then?”

I nod eagerly, “Yes, I’ll allow it. Court me, Mr. Mellark!”

He grins, “Please, call me Peeta.”

I smile at him, “Of course. That’ll be weird, calling you Mr. Mellark while we’re out on a date.”

Is his turn to smile widely. “I’m looking forward to that.”

“There’s just one thing… Peeta,” I say, and his face lights up when I use his proper name. “My birthday is in May, so maybe… we can cut short that year of courting?” I feel silly, and happy, and reckless all in one swoop.

His responding smile is blinding. “I think we can work with that. Will your folks be okay with it?”

I shrug, “They let you walk me home tonight, didn’t they? Is the first time they officially let a man walk me anywhere. And I know for ads t Daddy likes you. I like your chances.” I tell him, wondering where did all this cheekiness came from.

“Good!” He says with a shaky chuckle.

The song ends, and we collect Prim to go home. To her credit, Prim is being a very mature fifteen year old, and gives us the illusion of privacy by walking three steps ahead of us. When we reach our house, she goes right in after a quick “Good night” to Peeta, leaving us in the front stoop alone.

“Thank you for dancing with me tonight.” I say, “and for walking us home. I know is much too late for a baker to be out and about.”

“Oh, I’ll be alright. I’ll have my father come in if I need any help, but I think I can handle a long day. Spending time with you is worth it.”

Again, I smile shyly to my shoes, just noticing how comfortable they feel on my feet. I need to thank Mother for letting me wear them.

“I enjoyed spending time with you too, Peeta.”

He puts two fingers under my chin and tilt my face up, so our eyes meet.

“Could I come see you tomorrow evening?” He asks softly.

“That would be nice.”

“Katniss… there’s something else I would like to ask.” He swallows audibly.

I give him a questioning look before gesturing to go ahead.

“Would you allow me to… kiss you?”

“Yes,” I whisper nervously, excited.

He leans in slowly, his eyes searching mine the whole time, until our lips touch, and my lids close blissfully. The kiss is short and tender. Gale tried kissing me once, but I punched him in the jaw and he never tried again, but this?!

“Wow!” I breathe out. “I think I’m going to like kissing you, Peeta.” I say circling my arms around his neck.

He smiles broadly against my lips, “That’s good to hear. We’ll be madly in love with each other in no time, so it’s okay to kiss me anytime you feel like it, you know.”

I giggle. “Okay, then, come here!” I stand on tiptoes and kiss him again, long and curiously, until we hear my mother clearing her throat behind us.

The moment is embarrassing, sweet and funny, but the warmth I felt while kissing him stays with me all the way until the next day, when we steal a few kisses at the back door of the bakery when I stop there for our daily trade.

Indeed, I think we’re way on our way to madly in love already, and I couldn’t be any happier!