#i’m going to bed i’m done (will stay up another hour watching voice clips)

[ectoplasmer]

i haven’t even played the game and i already want that white haired guy so bad ohh my god

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

*

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

[raindownforme]

Crush

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader [she/her used]

It had been hours since y/n had started her stream. At the beginning of it she’d been working on the origins SMP and grinding at gathering supplies and resources while everyone else was off doing other things. A few times someone had popped onto the VC she sat in, Niki had talked while eating dinner and Ranboo had came to recount his day, but otherwise she had remained alone in the beginning.

But it had been several hours since then. Now it was 3 going on 4 in the morning. She sat curled up on her gaming chair, her eyelids just barely staying open. She was exhausted, but she was determined to stay awake until someone else started streaming. To pass the time, y/n had been interacting with chat and reading aloud donations.

“Hello?” A voice came through her headphones and she jumped, nearly falling out of her seat. “y/n?”

“Oh! Philza!” He chuckled a bit. Her voice sounded light and she began to yawn halfway through her sentence. “How nice to see you. What are you doing up?”

“Well it’s roughly noon for me and I was about to start streaming.”

“Ah. Of course.” She began to tap at some buttons, readying to move around her audience.

“Have you been awake for long?”

“Yeah. But I had a few people visit me.” As the notification of Phil going live dropped, she sent everyone over with a wave. “Niki and Ran came by.”

“Aw you sound disappointed.”

“Well I wanted somebody to come by but I guess he was too busy.”

Philza laughed again. “Yeah? And who’s somebody?”

In her stupor she giggled and winked towards a camera that wasn’t on anymore. “I can’t tell you who I have a crush on.”

The man froze, watching his chat go by a mile a minute. They kept throwing names around, even if they didn’t make sense, and he knew this wouldn’t end up any where good if it progressed. “Is it alright if we talk about this later? Why don’t you get some sleep.”

She yawned and stretched. She slowly went to get out of her chair. “Alright dad. Goodnight. I love you.”

“Love you too.” The discord call made the familiar noise of someone disconnecting and y/n turned off her display. She went and slunk into her bed, nesting underneath the covers, and quickly drifted to sleep.

———

y/n woke up a few hours later. As she sat up the first thing she did was reach for her phone to see a missed call from Ranboo. She went to call back and he picked up almost immediately.

“You are so dumb.”

She groaned and wiped at the sleep in her eyes. “Can I be awake for five minutes first.”

“No actually. You’re trending on Twitter.”

She squinted, trying to recall anything. “Did I do something bad? Was it last night or....?”

“It wasn’t like. Bad. But it was last night. You told Phil on live that you have a crush on someone.”

She paused, feeling her face grow warm with embarrassment. “Did I say who it was?”

“No you didn’t.” She sighed and felt herself relax a bit. “But they’re trying to figure it out. You didn’t make it very hard.”

“Well I didn’t say a name.”

“Yeah so you let them pick from the six men your age who have been on this server. Like I said you’re dumb.”

She sat up and got out of her bed, letting Ranboo sit next to her on speaker. She went to her desk and booted up her computer. She pulled up twitch on one monitor and Twitter on another. Loading up the streaming site, she sorted through all of us Phil’s new clips to look for last night. She found it quickly and began playing it.

“Have you been awake long?”

“Yeah. But I had a few people come visit me.... Niki and Ran came by.”

“Aw you sound disappointed.”

“Well I wanted somebody to come by but I guess he was too busy.”

Philza’s laugh echoed through her monitor’s speakers. “Yeah? And who’s that somebody?”

“I can’t tell you who I have a crush on.”

The clip ended with Philza glancing wide eyed between the camera and his computer monitors. y/n sighed and looked over at her other monitor. Her twitch name was trending. She clicked on the tag and scrolled through countless tweets of clips of her and other boys from the Origins SMP. There were ones of her and Jack, her and Charlie, her and Wilbur, her and Sneeg, and even her and Tommy or Tubbo. She took the time to respond to ones of her and the younger boys, emphasizing that if anyone was going to speculate anything it wasn’t going to be with her and children.

“Ran, what do I do?”

“Ignore it? It’s not like you have an actual crush on any one right?”

She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Ran..”

“Oh! Oh my god!” He started laughing and y/n could hear him fall from his chair onto the floor. He kept laughing as he got up. “Oh please tell me who it is-“

“No! I’m an adult! I don’t have crushes on boys.”

“Oh that is fake!” He kept laughing and y/n rested her head in her hands. “You know you might as well tell me who it is.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

“I’ll black mail you.”

“No you won’t!”

“I’ll show Tubbo your number and he’ll leak it.”

“To who.”

“The discord.”

y/n rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah. When are you getting on.”

“An hour-ish.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Alright byeeeeeee.”

Ranboo ended the call and y/n sighed. If she told Ranboo who she liked, he’d eventually tell Tubbo, who’d eventually tell Tommy, until he told someone and so on so forth. They were teenage boys. It wasn’t a very lucrative group. And Tommy seemed to record with Charlie almost every week. It seemed impossible to get by without disrupting something.

y/n went on to busy herself around her home for the next hour or so, doing some cleaning and other chores that had to be done. When she finished, she made her way to her pc to begin recording. She wasn’t planning on a live stream today, but a recording session would still do her channel good.

As she sat to boot up Mojang, she pulled up discord on her second monitor. She saw the kids already in a call; Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.

“Hey boys.” She slipped on her headphones as she entered the call, but they were all yelling.

“DON’T YELL AT ME.”

“I’L YELL AT WHOEVER I WANT WHEN I KNOW I’M RIGHT.”

“ARE YOU TOMMY? ARE YOU RIGHT?”

“Hi y/n.” Both boys stopped yelling as Tubbo pointed out that she had arrived. “Ranboo’s live by the way.”

“Thanks Tubbo. Are you guys on origins?”

“Yep!”

“Great, I’ll be on in a sec.” As she opened the world, she spawned somewhere she didn’t remember. It was dark around her, like she was swallowed by obsidian. “Uhhh, boys? I might be stuck.”

“I told you! I told you I was right! Chat tell Ranboo he’s an idiot!” Tommy started yelling again as Ranboo tried to tell him to shut up.

“That doesn’t explain why I’m surrounded by obsidian. I don’t have a pick!”

“Well, y/n,” she looked over to her discord call to see all the boys had their cameras on now. They all sat with their hands crossed while wearing sunglasses. Ranboo had his full mask on. Meaning he probably had camera on for his stream. Tubbo cleared his throat as he kept talking. “We have some questions for you.”

“If I answer can I get out of here?”

“If you answer honestly.” Ranboo leaned forwards a bit. “You told Philza Minecraft you had a crush on someone, correct?”

“Yeah. Sure. Might I add you’re all immature?”

“Is this crush, a man? Hmm?” Tommy tipped his sunglasses downwards slightly.

“Yes. How many more questions?”

“You’re not done. Is it someone on this server?”

“Does that matter Tubbo?”

“YES.” All the boys shouted in unison.

“Jeez fine. He has played on multiple servers, this could be one of them.”

Tommy slammed his fist on his desk. “HONESTY.”

“YES. HE IS.”

Ranboo gave a fake evil chuckle. “So it’s someone we know. A man we know. A gamer we know. One of us.”

“Yeah yeah.” y/n quickly pulled up twitch on her third monitor, making sure that he wasn’t watching Ranboo’s stream.

“Now y/n. I’m muted on my stream right now. Is it Wilbur?”

“Uhh…” He was there. He was watching the stream. Whatever she answered, he’d know.

“Wilbur! It’s Wilbur!” The boys started cheering as she realized that she didn’t quite answer. But as long as Charlie didn’t know the truth.

“Yeah. Can I come out now?” She watched charlie’s name disappear from the chat. In her game, Ranboo’s character came over to set her free from the obsidian.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“Yeah no worries. I’ll see you later boys.” She logged out of the server and scooted away from the monitors. She knew she made a bigger problem for herself.

She walked over to her bedside table, taking her phone off the charge, and went to face time Wilbur. He picked up quickly, holding the phone extremely close to his face.

“y/n!”

“Are you streaming?”

“No not at the moment.”

“Great because I fucked something up.”

“Oooooh tell me.” Wilbur propped up his phone in front of him and took a drink of something in a mug.

“So the children- did you see the clip from Phil’s stream?”

“Absolutely. Continue.”

“They went and cornered me into telling who my crush is. And they said you and I was distracted so they assumed you-“

“Is it me?”

“No fuck off. But now everyone thinks it’s you and even worse, the actual person was watching! He thinks I have a crush on you and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

Wilbur nodded. “Well who is?”

y/n pursed her lips, thinking for a moment before admitting the truth out loud for the first time. “Charlie.”

Wilbur froze, then scrambled to pick up his phone. “I have to go.”

“WILBUR NO.”

The line went dead from Wilbur’s end and y/n groaned, chucking her phone against her pillows. She rubbed at her eyes with her palms, deciding she might as well continue recording.

y/n logged back onto the Origins server, keeping herself out of the active discord calls. She could see that the three boys were still in a call, and Wilbur was talking with Philza. She rolled her shoulders back, getting into the mindset to record.

“Hey everybody!” y/n went on start the recording, talking mostly to herself about finishing construction on her house. It was quite a tall house, built of mostly stone and cobble, but she was still proud of it. The bottom two floors were reserved for storage and mining, and there was one room of entirely water for Niki. The top floor was a large spread patio frames in by dark oak fencing with a glass roof surrounded by dark oak half slabs. Her being a skeleton in the game, having a vantage point helped her snipe enemy mobs. It was also conviennent for attacking creepers to get music discs. She had quite the collection growing already.

“Okay so if I-“ y/n paused, looking over at her other monitor. In the main chat of the Origins SMP server, Wilbur had a sent a singular message.

WilburSoot: dress formally for an event in 2 hours time hosted at the Pubé

y/n took a breath, a bit nervous of what that meant, but still responded to let him know she would be there. In the meantime, she continued on her video, taking the 2 hour period to build herself a lovely garden area and an additional storage area deep underground.

“Thank you everyone! I hope to see you all soon.” She ended the recording and took a breath. There were 15 minutes until Wilbur’s event, and she supposed she had to dress nicer than her pajamas.

A moment later, she returned to her computer wearing her favorite sweater and a comfortable pair of pants. Looking over at discord, she could see most of the Origins SMP members in a discord call together, excluding only Schlatt, Technoblade, and SMajor. She took a breath, thinking for a moment, then clicked into the call.

“Hello?”

“y/n!!!” Jack’s voice screamed through her headphones.

“Sorry he’s a bit loud.”

“OI. AM NOT.”

“Come down mate.” Philza cleared his throat. “y/n. Lovely to have you.”

“Thanks Phil.”

“Before we start, no one’s live at all.”

She paused cueing up the game, her mouse hovering over the server. “Before we start what?”

No one answered. Quietly, she entered the server and made her way to the Pubé.

“Welcome to event of the century.” Ranboo’s character jumped up and down. Every one stood in the Pubé facing her.

“Alright. And what kind of event is this?”

“A ball! With food and drink provided by Philza and music provided by Tommy.” Wilbur’s character ran over to the jukebox in the corner to show her.

“That’s lovely, Will. Was I supposed to be more dressed up?”

“I think you’re perfect as is.” Charlie’s character jumped up and down. She paused, trying to swallow the giddy feeling rising in her chest.

“Let’s begin! Tommy, the music?” Wilbur turned the the teen as he placed the music discs. y/n watched everyone pair off, leaving her and Wilbur alone. Wilbur walked over to her, hitting her playfully.

“Hey Wilbur.” y/n looked over as the two went into a separate call.

“y/n!!! How are you doing? Enjoying the party?”

“Well I haven’t been here very long.” She held her hands closed over her lap. “Wilbur, I feel like there’s something going on here.”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me?”

She sighed, a smile playing at her lips. “Fine.”

“Good.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe dance around a bit. I’m going to talk with Phil.”

They both left the chat, Wilbur entering a call of just him and Philza and y/n entering the main room. The music was still playing. Everyone seemed to have split off into groups, leaving her alone. She sat by herself, watching everyone mingle about. It was only her in the main call, leaving everyone else in groups, but it was nice. She turned her head to watch her second monitor, seeing Charlie move out of the call with Wilbur and Philza to the main room with herself.

“H-Hey there.” She watched Charlie’s small character bounce over to her. “How’s it hangin?”

“Oh. Uhm. Good I guess. It’s nice to see you back on the server.”

“Yeah I guess I haven’t played in a while. I mean I haven’t streamed that much either but I’ve been recording.”

“That’s nice!”

“Yeah. I mean I’ve been able to watch other streams though.”

y/n thought back Ranboo’s stream earlier in the day, knowing full well Charlie had been watching that one. “Right.”

“We don’t have to talk about it. I mean I know how you feel.”

“Oh. Oh no please tell me Wilbur didn’t say anything.” y/n rubbed at her forehead with the heel of her palms. Convincing the internet she was in love with Wilbur Soot had been a problem in its own, but Wilbur telling Charlie she had a crush on him? “Look Charlie I’m sorry I didn’t want him to tell you it’s just- god you’re so nice and funny and really cute and it’s a stupid crush I never wanted to ruin our friendship. I’m so sorry Charlie.”

The other end of the call was quiet for a moment, but then she head Charlie almost laugh. “You have a crush on me?”

The realization washed over like a tsunami. He’d been talking about the stream, Wilbur hadn’t said anything. “God no wait Charlie-“

“On me? You have a crush on me?”

“Okay now you’re just rubbing it in. I take it back.”

“You can’t take that back!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

y/n paused, a smile creeping on her face. “Are you telling me that you have a crush on me over a Minecraft server?”

“You said it first!”

She glanced over at the camera on her computer for a moment. “We could have avoided this the whole time?”

“I- yeah we could’ve.”

y/n giggled, resting her face in her hands. “Is this our first date then?

“No!” She could hear Charlie suck in a breath. “I mean, let me take you somewhere better. Just give me a few days?”

“Days? That’s speedy isn’t it?”

“Okay Maybe weeks. But I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere. Trust me.”

“Of course.”

She could hear Charlie laugh on the other end of the call. “Until then, how much time do we have to make up for?”

She smiled, settling herself into her chair. “Charlie, more than you could ever think.”

[lastdr3am3r445]

💘Dying Your Hair with Eijirou Kirishima 💘

Hey guys!~ Sorry I haven't been posting, I've got a case of the sads, so only one post today, but it's something I've been wanting to write for a while. Today I just needed a soft fluffy comfort story. No naughtiness here, but maybe tomorrow 🤫

Genre: Fluff Wordcount: 999 (yes, really.) CW: Like a small mention of maybe being bullied in the past, but nothing actively described.

If you like to listen to music while you read, might I suggest this playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gt1cAfalNM Semi-related, does anyone else get the feeling that Kirishima listens to old 80's Top 40's like REO Speedwagon? Maybe I'll do a headcanon on that... Anyhow! Now to the story: You pick up the same damn box of hair dye for probably the fourth or fifth time, examine the instructions on the back, the sample colors on the side, and wonder if your hair will actually turn out like that before you heave another sigh and replace it back on the shelf.

What were you doing here?

Maybe you were having an identity crisis. Maybe you were worried that if you didn’t do something soon, you’d be stuck looking the way you do your entire life, that would just be your “Brand” as a “Hero”, and you just didn’t feel very heroic.

At that moment, about the worst possible thing found your ears.

“Hey! New kid!”

Great, you’re ‘the new kid’.

You squeezed your eyes shut and hoped that if you thought about it hard enough, you might become one with the display of boxes of dye and thus not be perceived by anyone you might have to see ever again.

“Hey!” A smiling voice let you know that your manifestation had failed.

“Oh God..” you heard, and you waited for it. The judgement, the teasing, the laughter at your expense that always seemed to follow you as “the new kid”.

“Are you dying your hair?”

“Yeah. What about it?” You clipped, and when you looked up, you saw red.

Not in that way, literally red. Red hair, red eyes, all framed by a relaxed red hoodie slung over his head.

“Well don’t use that brand, it washes out, like, instantly!” He flicked his hands with a toothy grin, “and that one..” he pointed to the box next to the one you had picked up, “that one is semi-permanent, and will rub off on ev-er-y-thing!”

He laughed brightly, like he was recalling a memory. He didn’t seem like he was putting you on, seemed… genuine. You decided to indulge him, “Oh.. well.. which one do you recommend?”

He brought a crooked finger to his chin, and red irises floated up, accessing his brain, “hmmm..”

You backed up a little when he stopped to start perusing the shelves, “based on that color, want demi-permanent… not too expensive… with good coverage… I’d go with this one!” He hands you a bottle, not a box. You look at him, a little confused.

“This one?”

“Yeeep! Typically you wanna stay away from box dyes.” He says through a deep stretch, which left his arms folded behind his head, “you might need to bleach your hair just a little, but I have that stuff at home.” He gave you another sharp toothed grin and a wink, “Hi, I’m Eijirou Kirishima!”

You introduced yourself and asked “How.. do you know about all this stuff?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He pulled the hood off his head to reveal dark shadowy roots, “did you think this was my natural hair color?”

“Stranger things have happened!” You said, a small smile quirking your lips.

“Yeah I suppose that’s true.” His face fell into a sheepish smile.

“So.. you’ll let me borrow your bleach and stuff?”

“I’ve got a better idea…”

***

You sat cross legged against Eijirou’s bed, a splotchy bleach-stained towel around your shoulders, still damp from your shower.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Apfolutely!” He muffled past the plastic brush pinched in his teeth, his arms a tangle of gloves, foils, bowls and product.

He dumped his armful across his desk and started sorting the pile, “You’re gonna look great!”

He didn’t even look at the directions as he mixed the bleach and developer into a viscous goo.

“Alright!” He cheered with a *fwoomp* as he leapt with his bowl onto the bed behind you. He positioned a box of foils beside him and asked, “Ya ready?”

You covered your face, and took a short breath, “As I’ll ever be…”

“Heheheheh~” he loosed a sinister laugh, took up his rat tail comb, and started sectioning and clipping your hair.

***

“Alrighty!” He chimed, snapping the vinyl gloves off his hands, “Check it out!” He handed you a wide hand mirror.

“I look like I’m waiting for the mothership…”

You weren’t wrong, tin foil jutted out from your head in every direction. At least you were protected from gamma waves, or whatever.

“Hahaha! This is the part where you trust the process..” He laughed as he padded over to the desk to mix up more product.

“Yeah.. Sure..” You guessed you kinda had to, at that point.

“Okay!” The mirror left your hand, replaced by the bowl of lightener, and your new friend plopped down in front of you, “Your turn!”

“What?! I- I never- I thought you said you’ve done this before?”

“Yeah, just because I can do it by myself, doesn’t mean I want to.” He rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through everything.” He flipped the mirror up in front of his face so he could see the dark stained roots and you beyond them; “It’s a part of the fun anyway!”

“O-okay…” You hesitated, but you pulled on a clean pair of vinyl gloves and went to work.

***

He did as he promised, and walked you through every step. Turns out it wasn’t that hard, and it was pretty repetitive after a while. Section the hair, paint the darkened roots on the front and back, section again; it left you plenty of time to talk.

By the time you were done with his roots, your hair was done developing. You rinsed and rinsed and rinsed, and after many more reassurances from Eijirou to “trust the process” you did it all again with toner, then again with color. The two of you were up until the wee hours coloring your hair, watching movies and talking.

After all was said and done, and your skin itched from the constant in-and-out of the shower, you were super happy with your choice, and that you had made a friend. Nowadays the two of you keep an appointment, maybe even a date, to do each other's hair every 6 weeks.

[lilliagradiewrites]

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter  found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?”  Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”  

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

[sonybees]

under the moonlight ; george weasley

george weasley x ravenclaw!reader

word count: 2,451

summary: applying lipgloss and clipping butterfly clips into your best friends hair. that’s cute. wonder what it would lead to.

warnings: kissing/making out, maybe a few swear words, lack of capitalization, probably grammar mistakes and nothing else i can think of. let me know if i should add any :)

a/n: i tried to make this fic have a gender neutral reader so let me know if i got it wrong at one point. i did not proof read this, i am so sorrydbnd. i would also love to hear some feedback! i really hope you enjoy!

“georgie, stay still.” you said in a jokingly frustrated manner. the story of how you ended up sitting on your bed, in front of your best friend, the person you were deeply in love with and putting some lipgloss on his lips? let’s just say you were bored. all your dorm mates were out, and someone came in just in time. you were honestly very surprised when he agreed but very glad.

“you know i can’t ever stay still.” he started moving around, trying to get comfortable on the bed. “blimey, this is so weird. why does it feel like that?” you chuckled about how adorable he is. you thought about how much you want to cuddle up to him, kiss his soft lips, trail your hands down on his soft skin. you wanted to hold him like he was the most precious thing in the world. well, he is to you. but you knew you couldn’t do any of that. he would never feel the same.

“it feels like what?” you said, chuckles present.

“it’s.” he trailed off and frantically made hand gestures, trying to think of a word for this odd feeling on his lips. “gooey. i don’t know. it’s just weird.” you chuckle again and finally put the tube down.

“now, smack your lips.”

“wait what? smack them? how the bloody hell am i supposed to do that?” he said, genuinely confused. you just laughed and said,

“do this.” you smacked your lips, trying to show him how to do it. he tried to do so but ended up looking like a quacking duck. you broke down to a fit of laughter when george tried to do the same.

“what? i did what you showed me.” he pouted as you let out a little giggle.

“nothing.”

“nothing? nothing, huh?” you shook your head, trying to hold back a laugh as he narrowed his eyes on you. he looked so stupid trying it. still very attractive though. surprisingly, he just kept quiet and let it go.

“do you really wear this everyday?”

“no. only when i want to.”

“which is, everyday?”

“huh, yeah.” you smiled, barely remembering picking up the said tube every morning. you just smiled to yourself but then you realized,

“wait, how’d you know i wear lipgloss everyday? i don’t remember telling you about it ‘til now.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“it’s not easy to miss. your lips are always glossy and shining under the lights.” he said so easily like he thought about it everyday. you were a bit taken aback. but in a good way. he noticed you. he noticed your lips. you were suprised but it made your heart melt. little did you know, he always observed you and your beautiful features like you were an expensive artwork. but you didn’t know that, you were oblivious.

“that’s cute.”

“you think i’m cute?”

“what? no, i said ‘that’s cute’ not ‘you’re cute’.” you replied with a slight panic in your voice. you watched george smirk which led to you getting all flustered, looking everywhere but his face. this cheeky bastard.

“yeah, alright.” oh my, that smirk. you thought you could collapse underneath his stare. you playfully rolled your eyes as an attempt to cover your flustered state and moved on. you stood up to your drawer, putting the tube back in and pulled out a little pouch full of colorful little plastic clips that are wonderfully shaped like butterflies.

“what’s that?” george asked as you sat back down in front of him.

“hair clips.” you looked up at george who was wearing a befuddled expression. “you clip it to your hair. kind of like decorating a Christmas tree but the tree’s your hair.” you explained in an odd but simple way, hoping that you wouldn’t have to explain any further.

“oh, right. i know now. ginny wears those sometimes. wait, are you gonna be putting that on my hair?”

“well, yeah. if you want me to.” you answered, making sure he’s alright with it. he thought about it for a few moments.

“well, sure why not. you seem excited about it so i bet i’ll look pretty.” he said, flipping his long red hair over his shoulder. you laughed at this and continued to open up the pouch. you scooched over to george’s back and grabbed a small tuft from the left side of his soft hair, dividing it into three equal bunches. you overlapped each of the bunches of hair over each other carefully, trying not to hurt the boy in front of you. you created a beautiful loose braid that was small enough to be clipped in with the mini butterflies. you cautiously grabbed the braid, careful not to break it and grabbed a clip while doing so. you held it right on the middle of the backside of his head and secured it with the clip. you were pretty proud of it, not gonna lie.

“are you done yet?” george asked, impatient as always.

“not yet, just hold on.” george groaned playfully as you gathered a tuft of hair from the right side and repeated the process. the tip of your tongue was out due to you concentrating, not wanting to mess this up. sticking your tongue out while you were concentrating was another thing george always noticed about you. he found it absolutely precious but he didn’t say a word about it.

after you braided the right bunch, you held it near the other braid and clipped it tightly.

“ow!” george squealed as he felt the clip against his scalp and the way his head tightened.

“oh! i’m so sorry.” you said as you took it out and held it back in more loosely.

“is that good now?”

“yeah, it’s good. okay, can i see now?”

“no, i’m not yet done.”

“merlin, how long will this take?”

“just wait a few more minutes. it didn’t even take that long.”

“yeah, right. well it felt like hours.”

“no it didn’t.”

��yes, it did.” both of you exchanged an unneeded playful banter over something so ridiculous but this was quite normal for you two.

“alright, shut up. i’m trying to finish this.”

“alright, fine.” you could hear his playful pout through his words.

you collected a few of the clips on your one hand, picking up the ones you were going to use with the other. you grabbed one and secured it near the braid and did this again and again all over his hair. soon enough, his hair was filled with so many colors of fascinating butterflies and you loved it. it was so pretty and colorful. you stood up and went in front of george to adjust the little strands of hair that was on his face. george just sat there, a bit confused but with a huge smile on his face as he saw how focused you were. he found you stunning.

“merlin, you’re beautiful.” he whispered suddenly under his breath but even if he didn’t want it to be, it was loud enough for you to hear.

“what?” you asked, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks. you heard the words he said very clearly, you were just in disbelief. did i hear that right? did he just call me beautiful? i mean he has done that before but this seemed- i don’t know, sincere. these thoughts have been running through your head. does he like me back? no, he’s probably just being nice. right?

“er- the moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t it?” he stumbled with his words a bit, contemplating whether or not to tell you what he actually thought.

“oh- yeah, it always does.” you answered, a bit disappointed and bemused. you thought you heard him right the first time but you figured it was just your mind messing with you. trying to make you happy and distract you from the fact that he will never like you back. that’s what you thought. you tried your best to brush all of this off but it wasn’t exactly working.

“well, we’re done.”

“finally, that took forever.”

“please don’t start this again.” he chuckled as you said this to him, sighing.

“yeah, yeah alright. i won’t.” he smiled at you and examined your face for a while. your features were refined under the shine of the moonlight that reflected through the open window. you did the same to him, staring at his chocolate brown eyes that glimmered so gracefully. you swore that you felt the space between you two grow smaller and you weren’t against it but you suddenly became aware of what you were doing and decided to snap out of it.

“anyways, c’mon. let’s go look in the mirror.” you stood up and held your hand out, gesturing for him to hold on to it. he abruptly broke out of his trance and grabbed it as he let you carry him up. you then lead him to the mirror in your dorm which was right next to the large bronze arch window. he looked at the mirror and smiled.

“wow, i look cute.” you laughed at this and looked at him though the mirror. he did look cute. so cute. you noticed a strand of his hair standing up so you reached out to it and straightened it out. it was george’s turn to look at you in the mirror. he thought that the way you did everything gently was so telling to your personality. you may be a fierce person but you had a good heart. you stood up against anything that you knew was wrong and you stayed loyal to your loved ones. even though you’re all of these, you were very kind and caring. you had a soft spot. specifically for george.

he turned his head towards you and stared at you. you looked back at him confused.

“what?” you chuckled quite nervously, starting to get self-conscious. you thought there was something on your face so you put your hand up to it and felt around.

“no, don’t do that. there’s nothing on your face.” he said calmly, grabbing your hand away from your face softly.

“then why are you staring at me like that?”

“because.” he hesitated a bit but decided that his feelings were kept for way too long and that now was the chance. “you look gorgeous.”

you thought you were surprised when you misheard that from him earlier but now, you really were. though, you still felt as if he was just being nice to you after you fixed his hair up for him. you decided to act calm and ‘play his little game’.

“thank you, georgie. you look dazzling as well.” you laughed as you turned around to head back to your bed.

“no, y/n. i’m serious.” he said to you, wanting you to listen carefully. serious? what does he mean by serious? you heard him take a deep breath before saying,

“look, okay. y/n, i have liked you ever since i first met you.” you were taken aback. were you hearing this right? if it was another trick your brain was playing on you, you didn’t like it. you’ve had enough of its little lies. but it wasn’t a lie. your brain didn’t make it up. it was true.

“when i first saw you on that train, i thought that you were the most beautiful being that i’ve ever seen walk on this earth. i always thought that you were perfect. i mean, you are so amazing, how could anyone not like you? but when you defended fred and i when we did that prank and when you did it again and again, i knew i was in love with you.” george said with so much passion and sincerity. you stood there in shock, trying to process what you just heard.

“i know it all came so suddenly but i’ve felt that way for a long time now and i just needed to take it off my chest.” you looked at him and smiled. so wide that your cheeks were hurting.

“i love you too, georgie. ever since you helped me on that charms homework that i stressed so much about.” you finally spit it out. you were proud of yourself. and george was pleasantly surprised.

“really?”

“yeah.” you both chuckled at your obliviousness. the thing you both feared the most from happening didn’t happen. you were filled with joy at that moment. that was until he grabbed your hand and walked closer to you. you knew what was gonna happen and of course, you were happy about it but you were nervous. he leaned closer to you to the point where your foreheads touched.

“can i kiss you?” he wanted to make sure that you were okay with it. and you were. you took a deep breath in,

“yes.” that was when you felt your lips touch one another’s. it was that moment when you felt like you were in heaven. like it wasn’t real. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist. your lips moved together slowly and fireworks erupted in your heart. you felt butterflies in your stomach. you could taste the strawberry flavor of the lipgloss as you kissed him. you continued doing so with so much love that you didn’t hear the door open.

“oh, dear. sorry for disturbing you.”

“yeah, we’ll just give you privacy.” said two very familiar voices. this caught both you and george in surprise, breaking off the kiss.

“luna, padma, cho. i’m so sorry.” you apologized, feeling shy around your dorm mates for the first time in a while.

“oh, no. it’s alright. it’s our fault.” padma said, slightly smirking.

“we’re happy for you, though!” luna replied in her soft and soothing voice that you loved. both you and george just smiled sheepishly.

“anyways, we’ll get on going.” cho said, breaking off the tension. as your beloved dorm mates left the room, padma winked at you as the others giggled.

“that was interesting.” george smiled.

“yeah.” you bowed your head down trying to hide the clear embarrassment on your face. george lifted your chin and grabbed your face softly, kissing you one more time.

“jeez, do you already miss my lips?”

“i’m gonna be completely honest, yeah. they taste good.” you laughed loudly at this.

“yours did as well. it was probably just the lipgloss.”

“oh, yeah. right, forgot i was still wearing that.”you both laughed and kissed one last time before happily walking out your dorm hand in hand. needless to say, this relationship is the cutest and most chaotic thing anyone at hogwarts has ever seen.

*��*•*•*

ending a/n: yay!! i finally finished this fic. it’s very simple concept but i loved it ‘cause it was adorable. i really hope you enjoyed and i hope that you have a great day! mwah!

i’ll be tagging some people who i think would be interested in this (sorry for bothering youdhdj): @georgeweasley19 @audreysmusings @lunalovecroft @boneyw @quadrupledeckertaco @krasivayadarling @cedwardcullen

[bitchin-beskar]

Royal Affairs - I

A Choice is Made

Rating: T (Will change to M in future chapters)

Warnings: None, for this chapter. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Hey all!! This is a brand new AU that I’ve decided to dive headfirst into!! An anon sent @absurdthirst a message, asking if anyone had written King Din before, and I saw it on my feed, and that inspired this series!! (on the off chance that that anon follows me, if you wanna send me a message or something, I’d be glad to credit you as the inspiration behind this story!) This is an AU story where Mandalore never fell to the Empire, and Din is the King by right of conquest (winning the Darksaber). More of the AU will be explored in the story, but if you have any questions, feel free to send me some asks! I’ll gladly answer what I can, as long as it doesn’t spoil anything!! I wholly blame @mxndoscyarika for being the reason this chapter is out so soon. She is an enabler. (@ollypopp also got to hear a lot of rambles about this au... i’m not sorry). I hope you guys like it!!!!! Please let me know what you guys think!!!

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!

When you’d gone to bed last night, you certainly weren’t expecting anything monumentous to happen today. Today was supposed to be just another day spent running your little apothecary with your sister, before going to sleep and doing it all over again tomorrow. 

But as you stared down at the small little green alien child hiding behind your counter, you knew that today wasn’t going to go the way you planned. 

“Hey, little one,” you murmured, crouching down, but staying far enough back that he wouldn’t feel trapped by you. “How’d you get in here, huh? Where are your parents?”

He looked up at you with his huge round eyes, his little lip quivering, and your heart broke. 

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart,” you whispered, holding your hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay–” You were a little thrown off when he waddled straight into your arms, and you instinctively clutched him to your chest. He buried his little face into your tunic and began to cry, little heart-wrenching sobs as his tiny body shook in your arms. 

Standing, you quickly moved to the back room, seeing your sister in the middle of bottling some healing bacta salve. 

“A’denla, can you cover the shop for me?”

She turned, about to ask why when she saw the sobbing child in your arms. You mouthed that you’d explain later, and she just nodded, turning and heading for the counter, leaving you alone in the back with the little one. 

You rocked the little baby back and forth, humming softly as you tried to get him to calm down. You didn’t have a whole lot of experience with children, but you knew enough from helping watch the children of other villagers while they ran their shops when you were younger. 

His tearful cries eventually slowed to little whimpers and hiccups, and you were able to encourage him to detach from your shirt. He rubbed at his eye with his little arm, and you were startled to see a dark green, almost black bruise on his tiny wrist. 

“Who hurt you, little one?” You gently took his hand, inspecting the bruise. He whimpered when you brushed your fingers over his skin. “I bet that hurts something fierce, huh?” 

You take him over to where your sister had the bacta salve out, setting him down gently on the countertop. “Can I use some of this, sweetheart? It’ll help you heal faster.” You’re not sure if he can understand you, but then he takes a long moment to look at the little bottle of blue gel you’re holding before looking up at you, solemnly nodding, his big ears flapping a little with the motion. 

You step away to wash your hands, grabbing a small strip of gauze as well. Dipping your fingers into the salve, you gently brush it over his bruise, your heart twisting every time his little features scrunch up in pain. Once his arm is sufficiently covered, you carefully wrap the gauze around the bruise, securing it with a small clip. 

He looks at his arm before looking back at you, cooing, a wide smile on his face, showing off his baby teeth. His arms raise in the universal sign for “up please!” and you’re unable to deny him, scooping him up in your arms, and cradling him once more to your chest. 

Pressing his face against your skin with a contented sigh, he nuzzles against you for a moment before you feel his breathing begin to even out. “It must be exhausting being so little, huh?” 

You carry him over to the small bassinet you have set up for when you’re watching your brother’s baby girl when he’s busy. The little child fits easily in the small padded space, and you carefully cover him up before stepping back. You have no idea how he got to your shop, and he’s not exactly a race you recognize. Hopefully his parents are somewhere nearby, otherwise you’re going to have a hard time finding them. Although, you’d noticed that his bruises seemed to be in the shape of a hand, and you really didn’t want to place him back into the arms of abusers. 

The tinkling of a bell rang through the shop, signalling the arrival of a customer. You quickly shut the door on the small room with the bassinet, walking towards the counter where your sister is. A’denla isn’t exactly the best with people, and you know she prefers to work in the back, so as soon as you get to the counter, you nudge her away so that she can go back to packaging up products. 

She gives you a grateful smile, ducking into the back as you turn to face two of perhaps the strangest customers you’ve ever met. One is a Rodian, which isn’t necessarily odd in of itself, but usually they tend to stay away from Mandalore. Most Mandalorian’s aren’t exactly known for their tolerance towards other races. The other appears to be human, but you’ve learned to not judge people by their outward appearances.  

“We’re looking for our bounty,” the Rodian grunts in Huttese, and your eyes widen a bit. Bounty hunters. You should’ve known. You’re also surprised that Huttese is the language he chose, especially considering the two main languages on Mandalore were Mando’a and Basic. Luckily for him, you’ve always been a fan of learning different languages, and you understand basic Huttese. “It got away from us. It’s very dangerous. Have you seen it?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What does your bounty look like?”

The other hunter chimes in, this time in Basic. “It’s fifty years old but looks like a child. Some weird green frog-like thing with big ears. It’s incredibly dangerous, and you need to tell us right now if you’ve seen it.”

You manage to school your features, but internally, you’re shocked. Their bounty is the little green child you just patched up and is now sleeping in your back room? And he’s fifty? 

Something about the way the two hunters are acting strikes you as odd, and you make a split second decision. You lie. 

“I’ve not seen any creatures like that,” your voice is smooth and calm, betraying nothing. “But I’ve been in my shop all day. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

For a moment, you think they don’t believe you, but the human quickly nods, grasping his fellow hunter’s arm and tugging him out of your shop. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, sagging a little as the door swung shut. 

You ducked back to the backroom, seeing your sister waiting with her arms crossed. 

“You wanna tell me why you just lied outright to two bounty hunters?” She hissed, eyes flashing. “Do you know how kriffing stupid that was?” 

You stared blankly at her. “Do you really think I’d lie to bounty hunters without a damn good reason?” Your voice was incredulous. “I’m not a di’kut, A’denla.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Alright, what’s the reason then?” 

You sighed, slumping against one of the tables. “They said their bounty is fifty years old, but the little one who came into our shop? He’s a baby A’denla. He may be fifty, but it’s clear he doesn’t age the same as us! What could a baby do to warrant a bounty? He was hurt, and he was hurt badly. He was sobbing and shaking and it’s clear he was terrified. I wasn’t about to hand him over to the bounty hunters who probably hurt him that bad in the first place!”

A’denla looks shocked at your little outburst, before softening slightly. She’s got a soft spot for little kids too, and you know she wouldn’t be okay with handing a child over to bounty hunters. 

“Fine, but if this brings hell down on us, I’m telling buir it was your fault, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed a basket of products, and went back out front to restock the shelves.

***

The little one had slept for a couple of hours, but now he was wide awake, and demanding your attention. You’d done your best to keep him occupied out of sight in case the bounty hunters came back, but so far, the coast had been clear. 

The door suddenly burst open, and Vyshena rushed inside. She owned a shop a couple doors down that sold mechanical parts, so she was a regular, often needing basic medical supplies to patch herself up after being a little too careless with a socket wrench.

“What do you need to–” You started, only to be cut off as Vyshena practically flung herself onto the counter, her grease stained fingers gripping the wood lightly.

“Did you hear?!”

You almost winced at the squeal, and you felt little claws dig into your legs. You looked down, to see the child grasping your leg, his ears drooping as he looked up at you with sorrowful eyes.

“Did I hear what, Vys?”

You bent down to pick up the little one, smoothing one hand over his ear as Vys started in on a rant.

“The King is coming! Apparently his kid went missing and he’s tracking him down! Y’know, he used to be a bounty hunter, so it only makes sense that he’d track his own kid down, apparently there’s a bounty from the Empire on the little guy and–”

You looked up as Vys suddenly stopped, and your brow furrowed as she made a choking sound, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at you.

“And what, Vys?”

Instead of answering, her arm raised shakily, pointing at the little bundle you held on your hip. Her mouth was gaping, and she looked like she was about to pass out.

“Vys, are you alright?”

Her eyes flickered between your face and the kid multiple times before she sucked in a gasp. “WHAT?”

You actually flinched back at her sudden shout, and the kid whimpered, burying his face in your side.

“Vys!”

“I’m sorry, but how do you– where did– HOW DID YOU GET THE KING’S KID??”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what?”

“YOU HEARD ME!”

“What is all this racket about– oh, hi Vys.” A’denla came out from the back, her hands full of bottled bacta salve. “What’s going on?”

Vys sputtered, and so you mumbled “Apparently this is the King’s son?” As you gesture to the giggling baby on your hip.

A’denla’s jaw dropped, and she nearly dropped the bacta salve. “Are you kidding me??”

You shook your head, feeling faint, and Vys started laughing hysterically, which got the little one going too. “Not helping,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile at how happy the little one looked.

“Maker, what are we gonna do?”

Your sister’s moan was mostly drowned out by the giggling, but you frowned thoughtfully. “Vys, hold him please,” you said, handing her the still laughing child, even as your request caused her to audibly shut her mouth. You rummaged through the drawers behind the counter before you found a spare sheet of paper and a pen. A’denla tried to see what you were doing but you waved her off, writing as fast as you could.

“There,” you muttered, folding up the paper, handing it to Vys in exchange for the kid. “Take this to one of the guards. They should be able to get it to the King quickly enough. It states that his son is safe, and here in the apothecary. We’re gonna close early just as an added precaution.”

Vys nodded, and you turned to A’denla. “I also wrote what I could remember about the two bounty hunters who came in, they’re probably the ones who kidnapped the kid to begin with.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” your sister sighed. “Maker, am I glad you lied to them when they asked about the kiddo.”

“Me too.” You turned back to Vys. “Go, get that to a guard. I’ll wait here.”

Vys nodded shakily, still a little pale, but she dashed out of the shop. A’denla opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly.

“Go on, spit it out.”

She shook her head. “Buir is never gonna believe this.” You snickered, imaging your mother’s face when she found out that the King of Mandalore’s son had wandered into your apothecary.

“You should go home and tell her. I’d hate for her to hear about this from someone else.” A’denla looked worried, but you shook her off. “I’m closing the store anyways. It’s not like I won’t need your help.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes, go.”

After a little more persuading, A’denla finally left, leaving you and the little one alone in the shop. He was still perched on your hip, and for a moment, you stood in the middle of the store, mind racing.

“I can’t believe you’re actually the King’s son,” you muttered, looking down at the wide-eyed child. “Just my luck, huh?”

He cooed at you, playing with the fabric of your top. Your eyes fell to the gauze wrapped around his arm, and you sighed. “I guess we better check on that, buddy. Make sure you’re healing alright.”

Just like before, he was a good patient, not too squirmy as you carefully unwound the gauze. His bruise was healing nicely, and you carefully applied a little more bacta for good measure, re-wrapping his arm. Right as you were pinning it in place, a loud banging sounded from the front door.

You jumped, hand flying to your chest. Carefully picking the kid up, you made your way to the door, peering through the curtains, eyes widening as you realized just who was standing there.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open, stepping to the side to let the odd looking group inside.

You recognized Fennec Shand, a notorious bounty hunter and partner to Boba Fett, who was also a part of the group. Both were known for their close kinship with the King. There was a woman you didn’t recognize, but judging by the small tattoo on her upper cheek, she had ties to the Republic.

Finally, clad in full beskar’gam, was the King. His beskar was unpainted, the silver gleaming in the low light of your shop. He had no shortage of weapons, his spear was strapped to his back, and a blaster and various vibroblades were strapped to his legs. But the most prominent was the Darksaber that hung from his belt.

Dropping into a curtsy, you bowed your head in respect, a quiet “my king,” leaving your lips. You’d heard stories about the King, about his strength and speed in battle, but especially from his time as a bounty hunter. He’d been one of, if not the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, before winning the Darksaber from Maul in a duel, granting him the right to the throne of Mandalore.

Some said he was cruel, terrifying and dangerous, not to mention volatile. You had no way of knowing. He wasn’t one for major public appearances, so knowledge on his true personality was reserved for those closest to him.

There was a tense silence for a moment when suddenly, the child on your hip reached his little arms out towards the King, babbling loudly. He had a large smile on his face and was wriggling desperately to get out of your grasp. 

The King took a step forward, his own hands stretching out towards his son. You carefully handed the child over, your bare hands brushing over the King’s leather gloves as you transferred the little one to his father’s arms. 

“Su’cuy, ad’ika.” 

The King’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he pressed his helmet against the little one’s brow, his hand pressing against the child’s back to hold him close. 

You fold your arms in front of you, absently noting the way that you already miss the comforting weight of the kid on your hip. You look away from the King and his son, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

The others seem a little uncomfortable, like you, and thankfully, the woman you don’t know breaks the awkward silence. 

“You said in your note that you had two bounty hunters come looking for him?”

You’re looking at the woman, so you don’t notice the way the King’s head whips in your direction, nor the way his hand falls to rest on the hilt of the Darksaber. 

“Mmhmm, a Rodian and a human.” You pause. “Actually, I’d almost forgotten, we had security cameras installed about a month ago, they should be on the holos.”

“Why bother with security cameras?” Fett cut in, and you were taken aback by the blatant suspicion in his voice. “This isn’t exactly a high crime area.”

You sighed. “We had a break in a couple months ago. Some di’kut took off with half our supply of bacta salve. We’re one of the only apothecaries on Mandalore licensed to make it, and unfortunately, that usually means we have a large stock, and the prices are pretty steep.” 

“You didn’t report it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the accusatory tone. “I figure if someone’s going to go to all that trouble just to steal bacta salve and not even touch the register or safe, they probably needed it. It’s diluted when it’s in a salve, so it can’t be sold on the black market, unlike pure bacta.” 

“What’s this?”

You started at the King’s voice, turning to look in his direction, seeing him inspecting the gauze wrapped around the little one’s arm. You frowned. “The little one had a pretty bad bruise, it was nearly black. I applied some bacta salve and wrapped it. I checked it just before you got here, it looks a lot better.”

“And I suppose you just thought it was okay to–”

“Fett.”

Your eyes widened at the King’s tone, looking away as the green-armoured bounty hunter grumbled, but stayed silent. 

“I’m a licensed medic, and I have been for close to ten years now. I know what I’m doing.” Perhaps your voice was a little defensive, but you weren’t going to apologize for easing the kid’s pain, no matter the opinion of grumpy men in beskar. 

“Thank you.”

You nodded at the King, eyes flicking up to his helmet before looking away, your cheeks growing warm. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but something about the way he seemed to stare directly into your soul, even through the beskar made you feel... odd.

He handed the little one to the woman with the tattoo, before turning back to you. “May I see the holos?”

You nodded again, turning and walking towards the back of the shop, where the holos were stored. It wasn’t a large room, an old refurbished closet really, and it was a bit tight for one person, let alone a second covered in beskar. You opened up the data station and pulled up the holos from earlier, trying to ignore the silent mountain of a man behind you. You could feel his eyes on your back, and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. 

You found the correct timestamp, and enlarged the holovid, pointing to the figures on the screen. “This is when they entered.”

Suddenly, there was a large warm hand on the small of your back as the King stepped up behind you, his other hand coming down to rest on the surface of the table, caging you in as he leaned forward. He was peering over your shoulder, and you inadvertently sucked in a breath at the sudden closeness. 

The two of you watched the footage in silence. Unfortunately, you didn’t have audio to go with the holos, so all the King would have to go off of is the visual. 

“Is there anything distinctive about them that you can remember?” He murmured, the rasp of his helmet’s modulator doing nothing to hide the exquisite way his voice sounded in your ear. 

“Um–” You trailed off, trying to focus, which was especially hard with the King so kriffing close. “Uh, the Rodian? He spoke Huttese.” You could’ve smacked yourself. Of course the Rodian spoke Huttese, it was a common language bounty hunters learned, and Rodian’s were known for speaking it along with their native Rodese. 

The King let out a sigh, and just as you were about to apologize, he thanked you. 

“That– that helps. Thank you, very much.” His hand pressed a little more into your back, and you fought the urge to arch into his touch. You weren’t some child with a crush damn it, you were a village shopkeeper and he was your king. It would be entirely inappropriate, although your traitorous mind was quick to remind you that his touching you could be considered inappropriate as well. 

You told your mind to shut the hell up. 

“You’re welcome, my king.” 

There, that was a perfectly respectable answer. Now all you had to do was avoid embarrassing yourself any further, and–

“Please, darling. Call me Din.”

Well, there went that plan. 

You bit your lip and looked down at the keyboard, hoping that the King–Din, didn’t see your hands tighten at the sound of his voice when he called you darling. 

“Can you give me a copy of these holovids?” 

You nodded, grateful for something, anything to distract you from the peculiar man at your back. Copying the holos onto a drive unfortunately didn’t take very long, and when you turned to hand them to the Ki–Din, your eyes widened when you realized just how close he was to you. Your chests were practically touching, and you had to tilt your head up to be able to look at his helmet, which was aimed directly at you. 

He carefully took the drive, tucking it into one of the pockets on his belt, before stepping back, crossing one arm over his chest and bowing. To you. 

“You’ve done me a great service. I won’t forget it.” 

You swallowed harshly. For a moment, it had sounded like he’d said “I won’t forget you,” although it had to be wishful thinking on your part. He was your King, you were so far removed from royalty it wasn’t even funny. He was just being polite. 

“I’m just glad you were able to reunite with your son. He seems to love you a lot.”

“His name is Grogu. I was blessed with him as my foundling, and I treasure him greatly.”

You smiled. It was clear as day how much the King loved his son, and how the little one returned those feelings tenfold. To be blessed with a foundling was a great honor, and it didn’t surprise you one bit that your King had been blessed in such a way. 

He stepped back to make space for you to leave the small room, and you hurried to where the others were undoubtedly waiting, only just now realizing how long the two of you had been gone.

Fett and Shand were gone by the time you got back to the main floor of your shop. Just the woman and the little one–Grogu–stood their waiting. The King easily plucked Grogu from the woman’s grasp, and with a tight nod, she left your shop as well, leaving you alone with the King and his son. 

He turned back to you, his helmet once more trained on your face. “I must thank you again, for everything.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the gratitude dripping from his words. “It was nothing, my king,” you murmured, curtsying once more. 

As you slowly straightened back up, the King reached out and ever so gently lifted your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. You were forced to look at him, even as the fluttering in your stomach renewed with vigour.

“I’ve already told you, darling. Call me Din.” 

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Story Tags: @all-hallows-evie​, @houseofthirst​

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[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right?

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Stop the World, I Wanna . . . - Artic Monkeys

Space Song - Beach House

May 16, 2002.

New York City, New York.

“[y/n] . . .” Claire whispered. “Honey, c’mon . . . just, try to sit up.”

You couldn’t. You just, couldn’t. It was as if your entire body was filled to the brink with sand — coarse, wet, heavy sand — and it was weighing you down, keeping you anchored to Claire’s bed. Your head rested in her lap, and your fist gripped, tightly, onto the fabric of her jeans — which were stained with your tears. Her hand ran along your spine, and her arm wrapped around you, protectively. She wanted to shield you, she wanted to keep you safe, happy. She wanted to distract you from your luggage laid out on the floor.

But, the pressure of her body, coddling you, God, it just hurt. Everything hurt, and you couldn’t get it to stop, and you couldn’t stop sobbing, ugly sobbing, snot running down your lips.

“Cl—Claire . . .” you whined. “I . . . I . . .” your hand flew to your mouth, muffling a loud and painful sob that echoed throughout the room.

“I know, I know . . .” she cooed, kissed the top of your head, and ran her hand over your hair. “It’s okay, don’t try to talk, just rest.”

Claire held you, all day and all night on May 16, 2002. She held you until you lost your voice, until you cried yourself to sleep, and after that, she still held you.

Because it was May 16, 2002.

And May 16, 2002 was day one without Matthew Gubler.

After crying yourself to sleep that morning, you awoke alone in Claire’s bedroom that night. You rubbed your tired and sore eyes, and sat up, surprised to see the sun had gone down. Your mouth felt dry, and your throat was sore. Claire had left you a bottle of water, and you chugged it in one gulp. You stood from the bed, slowly and groggily, stumbling your way through the boxes of clothes, and decorations that Claire hadn’t even put up yet.

You wandered aimlessly into the bathroom, and switched on the light. You didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. Only a faint resemblance of what you looked like that morning, before the airport, before the tears.

You had dressed up. Did your makeup. And now, your clothes were wrinkled, and your face was smeared with mascara. You looked miserable, you felt miserable, you were miserable.

Claire walked in just as another tear rolled down your cheek. You looked at her reflection, and saw she was eyeing you, sadly.

“Hey,” she attempted to smile. She stepped over to you and held onto your shoulders, catching you as you fell back, dramatically, into her arms.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she whispered. You hiccuped as you looked in the mirror, making eye contact with her. “It’s just day one . . .” she said. “It’s just . . . day one.”

And it’s true, what everyone says: one day turns into one month, and one month turns into one year.

And one year turns into one decade.

October 13, 2017.

New York City, New York.

Today, is Friday the thirteenth.

Day 5,629 without Matthew Gubler.

And somehow, someway, you feel just as stuck, and frozen, and scared shitless as you did on day one.

You haven’t felt this way in a very long time, though. And of all the days, of all the nights, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

A knock rings at the dressing room door, startling you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, and found yourself, once again, focused on your reflection.

You know this person. You’ve spent 5,629 days growing into this person. And y’know what? She’s fucking hot.

“[y/n]!” Another knock follows.

“I’m coming!”

“When?”

“Ramona, I will fire you, and trust me, I really need an assistant!” You shout, fixing your dress in the mirror once again.

“Oh, yeah, right. Then who would make your coffee and make sure you’re on time?” she replied. “. . . You’re late!”

“Okay!” You stumbled to the door in your heels, flung it open, putting your hand on your hip.

“Wow . . .” Ramona said, nearly speechless. “You look . . . hot.”

“That is not how you speak to your boss, dude,” you laughed. “You really think I look hot?”

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kind of hot.” She winks.

You chuckle, “Thanks, I needed that. Walk with me.”

“Okay, um,” she starts, walking beside you as you strut down the hall. “Hair and makeup are gonna take care of you in no less than thirty minutes, that gives you, approximately, two minutes to get into the studio.”

“Two minutes?” You stop in your tracks. “That’s it?”

She can’t help but grin, just a little, “Told you you were late.”

You scoffed, “Okay, so are we shooting when I step into the studio?”

“Yep!”

“Great . . .” you sigh, walking over to the cosmetic chair.

“But, hey, you’re the big boss, they can’t film without you.”

“Yeah, except big boss told everyone we’re filming at seven sharp, and big boss probably won’t even be ready at seven sharp!” You ramble.

“Okay . . .” Ramona nods, slowly. “Are ever gonna tell me why you’re so nervous about tonight, or . . ?”

“Uh, why am I nervous about a major, televised, celebrity event that I not only put together myself, but choreographed?” You rambled. “I don’t know, pick a reason!”

“Wow . . .” She says. “As valid as all those reasons are, I think something else is going on and I will find out, so you might as well spill.”

“Can’t talk!” You pip. “Getting my makeup done! Tell them I’ll be in at seven.”

You exhaled deeply the minute Ramona stepped away, closing your eyes. Not opening them until your hair was done perfectly, and the makeup artist added her final touches.

You, once again, came face to face with your reflection.

“[y/n]!”

But you didn’t have time to process it.

“[y/n], cameras are rolling, thirty seconds to seven.”

Of all the days, of all the nights, you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

“[y/n]!”

Because you are the big boss now.

Your purple dress — perfectly matched to the NYU logo — hugs your body tightly as you walk across the floor, the hem splayed over feet, which are covered in tall, silver heels. The clack of your shoes silences everyone as you walk by. Everyone, except for Ramona, who steps in before you can enter the studio.

She clips an NYU pin to your dress, “For good luck,” she smiles.

“3, 2, 1 . . . rolling.”

You enter the studio, and the room fills with a flood of “oooooh!” from each and every one of your students. The camera pans over their faces as you walk across the hardwood floor, smiling at them, laughing at their expressions. Their jaws are dropped, hands clutched over their chests.

“[y/n]! Holy shit!”

“Hey!” You laugh. “Language! We’re rolling!”

“You look great!”

“Thank you, how are you all?” You ask.

“Nervous, thanks for asking.” They all laugh.

“You guys will be fine, I’m an excellent teacher,” you giggle.

“Damn right, but are you sure you can’t hold our hands while we’re on stage? Just for a little bit?”

“Big babies!” You shake your head. “You’re ready. Signals from off camera indicated a time crunch, and you quickly brought the group together for a big hug.

It’s been a long time coming. Tonight. Or, as printed on all invitations and promotional materials:

New York University’s 2017 Celebrity Alumni Event: In Support of the Ballet class of 2017.

Coordinated and Choreographed by [y/n] [y/l/n], executive producer and star of the hit reality show, New York Best and Ballet.

Big boss.

The camera follows you as you exit the studio, walk down the hall, “They’re gonna kill it,” you smile into the lense. “I know it.”

All you can think about is the blatant, gross hypocrisy. The way you’re completely, beyond a shadow of doubt, confident in your students and their ability to pull this off.

And you can’t even say the same thing about yourself.

With the cameras off of you, you put your hand against the wall, and steady yourself. Ramona walks up to you, walking along your side. “Got you a water, you should stay hydrated tonight.”

You give her an appreciative look, taking the bottle of water and standing up straight, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“I guess not, guests are starting to arrive.”

“Holy shit, already?” You gasp.

“You did plan this thing, right?”

“Ugh,” you huff, dramatically rolling your eyes.

“You’re expected in the ballroom, a margarita will be waiting for you at the bar.” Ramona grins.

You continue down the hallway, as she watches you walk away, a crew of people following behind you.

“[y/n]!” Ramona calls.

You turn to her, stopping in your steps.

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kinda hot,” she smiles.

You laugh, out loud, and give her a nod. Then, you continue on your way downstairs.

More people had already arrived than you thought. The ballroom was packed, covered by a sea of people, tables, cameras and crew meandering through the crowd to catch every ounce of footage they could. You were filmed as you walked down the steps, passing the stage and stepping onto the floor with a grand smile.

“Pretty good turn out, huh?” You chuckled, beaming at the camera as you branch out to greet your guests.

This helps.

The smiles, the laughs, the presence of people that support you and your program enough to show up, pay a lot of money, and witness the magic of NYU ballet in all its glory. The light highlights the brightness of your smile, the glow around you in your element. Your chuckle echoing around the room, as you coasted from table to table, person to person, thanking them for coming.

Reconnections were made, stories were told, and retold, and thoughts of college had you blushing on the spot. You’re so lost in the whirlwind of energy, of being the proper hostess, and managing everything in sight, you didn’t notice that an hour had passed.

Until a crew member taps you on the shoulder, and tells you it’s five minutes to show time.

“Excuse me,” you nod, removing yourself from your current conversation and heading backstage.

You blow kisses to the band of nervous students, give them two thumbs up as cameras trailed behind you. “And . . . you’re on, [y/n].”

You stand up straight, hand your margarita off to a crew member, take in a deep breath. And walk. You march up to the podium, the bright lights beating down on you as you stand in front of the large crowd.

“Hello, everybody, welcome!” You announce, bringing the room to a gentle silence. “Thank you all so much for being here. I’m [y/n] [y/l/n], director and head of the ballet department here at New York University.”

You become flustered at the wave of applause, cheering the crowd and backstage. “Thank you, thank you so much. As a NYU alumni, there is truly nothing that makes me happier than to teach this extraordinary class of students. They’re focused, they’re determined, incredibly talented, and the best of the best. So, without further ado, I present to you the NYU ballet class of 2017, presenting a remastered rendition of their first performance in 2014.”

You exited the stage, the curtain behind you shielding the students that were already positioned in place. You stood backstage, watching them on screen, with your hands bound against your chest. The curtain was drawn, the music kicked up, and they went.

They move effortlessly, dare you say it . . . perfectly. In sync, and with a wide range of motion that rolled without a hitch. The crowd watched in awe, and you were right there along with them. Cameras focus on your face as you’re entranced by the class, and so immensely proud.

“They’re incredible,” you beam. “Aren’t they amazing?”

The full set took about half an hour, and when the curtain flies down, closing dramatically, you jump up and down, and run over to the group of kids who couldn’t wait to see you. The joy can be felt through the lense of every camera trained on you.

Their energy and excitement is putting you on cloud nine. Your own adrenaline is rushing, and pumping in your ears.

You let your guard down. You hand out kisses and hugs left and right, and step back in the crowd on a high, head empty, no thoughts. No feelings except for happiness and pride.

“That was incredible, [y/n], absolutely incredible.”

“Wonderful show!”

You were saying thank you faster than you could hear the accolades, caught in a rush of people passing you by.

You turn to see your students trailing behind you, shaking hands as they’re showered in praise. You grin at them, entirely consumed with elation by their looks of satisfaction, of relief, of relaxation and accomplishment.

You let your guard down.

You got comfortable.

“[y/n]!”

You let yourself slip.

“[y/n], [y/n]!” A hand is placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn around, a smile still plastered across your face.

“You know Matthew, right?” Your co-producer asked. “You guys graduated the same year?”

You nearly collide with him. You stop on the toe of your heels, and come to a screeching halt. Your eyes connect like magnets, the pull is strong and intense. Your breath catches in your throat, you smile fading along with your breath. You instantly begin to sweat under the light of the cameras, your skin heating up, your hands shaking.

“U—u—uh,” you stutter. “Yes! Hi!”

“Hi, [y/n]!” He exclaims, happily, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Oh!” You gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

And he smells, so good. He’s grown, and it feels different holding his tall frame in your arms. But the embrace is quick, and brief, and he holds your shoulders in his palms as he speaks to you, “The show was amazing, blew me away!”

You’re expected to talk. You’re expected to breathe. But you’re left speechless by the scruff lining his jaw, the curl atop his head, the suit shaping his body, and topped off with a jet black bow tie.

“Thank you, thank you,” you ramble. “Thanks for coming, um, let’s catch up later,” you nod, to which he politely nods back, and clears a path for you to walk on by.

You let your guard down.

And now you can’t seem to catch your breath.

Your feet were killing you by the end of the night. You didn’t get to take a proper seat — without the cameras, and the crew, and the crowd, until nearly ten o’clock at night. As you were trying to regroup, Ramona found you hiding away in your dressing room, halfway asleep.

“[y/n]?” she taps your shoulder. You groggily lift your head, and look to her, “There’s a car waiting for you out back. It can take you home or to the hotel across the street. What do you think?”

“Mm,” you hum. “Hotel. Hotel is fine.”

The Lillian Hotel had been acquired specifically for tonight’s event. A cozy room, with an even cozier bed was waiting for you, calling your name. And after tonight, after day 5,629, it’s all you can think about.

You give Ramona a quick hug, and thank her for everything before you sneak out of the building. You take the back exit, avoiding an entanglement of people and paparazzi.

The atmosphere of the elegant hotel was much calmer. You were given the key to your room, and you turned on your heels to head to the elevators. Your shoes created an echo against the tile, and the sound suddenly silenced when you saw him. Waiting for the elevator.

“Matthew?” You call, timidly. The courage comes out of nowhere, flies out of your chest before you can catch it in your throat.

He stops in his tracks, and turns to you, holding the strap of his bag. “Hey!” he grins.

You give him a shy smile, as you let out a dry laugh and step closer to him.

His eyes darken, not noticeably, but just a little. He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and all you can say is . . .

“Matthew . . .” you clear your throat. “Thank you for coming tonight, and supporting the program, and for . . . being so professional about everything, I know it . . . couldn’t have been easy, I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrows furrow, only for a second, and his face almost goes blank. He looks down at his shoes, taps his foot as his mind swirls with words to say. But all he can is chuckle. Laugh.

“I knew you were gonna do this,” he says.

You tilt your head, “Do what?”

“This . . . think . . . think that what I did today had anything to do with you.”

“I—“ you stutter. “Okay . . .”

“I came tonight to see friends, to catch up, to visit New York. And I knew I would see you, and I knew . . . I knew you’d, I don’t know, expect me to fall to my knees the second I saw you. I can’t do that . . . I, personally, see no reason to do that. I acted professional, because I am professional, not to cushion your feelings.”

And although, he’s changed, he’s grown, he’s matured, and he’s a completely different person than when you saw him last, Matthew Gubler still knows how to make a dramatic exit.

He turns away from you and continues down the hall, boarding the elevator without looking back at you. You — who’s paralyzed, stuck, scared shitless. Standing in the foyer of the hotel lobby, wondering why you’re unable to move, to breathe, to keep your eyes from misting.

And back to day zero.

You knew for sure that you’d struggle to sleep. That Matthew’s word would eat at your gut and brain like a parasite, haunting you, rattling around your head. But, the second your head hits the pillow, you were out like a light.

And you dreamt of him instead.

The way he was 15 years ago.

The way he made you feel.

Bing, bing, bing!

“Huh!” You jolt awake, spasming out of your sleep violently. Suddenly, the sun had risen again, and it was burning your eyes through the windows.

Bing, bing, bing!

“What the—“ You sit up, rub your face, and anxiously search for your phone, wondering why you were being called so early in the morning.

Ramona’s name flashed upon the screen, and you swiped to accept her call. “Hello?”

“[y/n] . . .”

“Ramona . . .” you slur.

“Have you checked twitter this morning?”

“Tw — no? No, it’s . . . seven in the morning, of course I haven’t checked Twitter.”

“Check it.”

“Ra—“

“Check it!” She shouts.

You groan, and navigate to the Twitter app. “Oh . . . oh, I’m trending . . . that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, uh-huh, check who you’re trending with . . .”

“Okay . . .”

Clicking on your name, you instantly sat forward, your eyes going wide, “NO!”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

[saltedpeppermintmocha]

into the night (bakugou x reader) - Chapter 1/?

Summary:

You were born to die.

It is a fact you’ve known since your quirk first manifested, and one you have been denying for just as long. You refuse your supposed fate and try to live the best life you can while remaining undetected.

But maybe fate has another plan. A chance encounter on a mountainside changes your life forever.

MATURE : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+

You were born to die.

It is a fact you’ve known since your quirk first manifested, and one you have been denying for just as long. You don’t want to die. Not now, not when there are so many things you haven’t done. So many views you haven't seen.

You pull yourself up some ragged rocks, muscles working harder than they have in months to successfully drag your body up. The small rock ledge isn’t close to the top of the mountain, but it’s a good stopping point for today. You look up at the snowy expanse still ahead of you, the sun leaving long shadows along the white and grey exterior, and can’t help but smile. No, you don’t want to die.

Sitting back, you let yourself breathe and watch the top. An old memory flashes in your mind, the first time you hiked to the top with Dad. You had been so little, and so proud of yourself despite Dad having carried you through the most difficult parts. You screamed so loudly at the top, trying to tell the entire village that you made it. Dad had only been able to quiet you by saying that you could “wake up” the volcano with your screams.

The memory makes you smile. There weren’t many good times in your life right after your quirk manifested, but Mount Yotei had been a part of almost all of them. You have missed the mountain since moving to the city. Sapporo might not be that far, but you haven’t been able to make your way home often enough. Being on-call meant that leaving the city even for the few hours it took to get to the village was almost impossible, let alone actually making the long trip up.

You breathe in the crisp autumn air and reach for your pack, grabbing some water and a granola bar. You don’t bring much in terms of food with you, careful of attracting the wildlife during this season, but this will do. Munching happily, your eyes don’t leave the top of the mountain. You will get back up there soon.

It feels like only a few minutes before you have to begin the trek back down. You had started the climb too late in the day to actually make it too far up, or to relax too much, but you couldn't resist the call of the mountain when you saw it on your drive up. Dad could wait, he’d understand. You slide carefully down the rocky ledge and begin your walk back down. The trail you  are using is rough, with roots and rocks sticking out all over the place. It is not a tourist trail, but the one used by locals the most.

Something moves in the distance.

You startle, on edge immediately. Your hand reaches down for the bear spray connected to your belt, fingers ready to release it from the clip at a moment's notice. Damn, you knew you stayed out a bit too late, pushed it a bit too much.

But it’s not a bear that emerges from the bushes. It’s a man. Equally as startling, really, as the tourist season has been well and over for a few months now. You feel the tension release from your body a bit, but not completely. People can be just as dangerous as animals, you see that every day at work. The man pauses too, although he does not look surprised to see you.

Your first thought at seeing him is that he is definitely not dressed to be out on the mountain. His clothes are dark and inappropriate for the altitude level: a long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants. At least he seems to be wearing boots. You don’t see any bag, no protection items, no water or food, nothing on him. It was something you would see on a casual hike around the bottom of the mountain, not this far up.

The more you look at the man, the more you realize that he is, well, really damn good looking. The man, probably around your age if you had to guess, is tall and built for power. He has spikey ash blonde hair and a handsome face that was...slowly turning angrier as you stared at him. Shit, okay. You should probably stop that then. You force your gaze away, looking down at your feet as you continue your descent down the steep terrain. Your hand fiddles with the bear spray, a cation brought on by city life. Just in case.

It only takes a moment before you pass him, each silently headed in opposite directions across the mountain. You bite your lip, thoughts focused on the other hiker. Why is he up so high on the mountain dressed like that? It's completely irresponsible, dangerous. The times you had been on the mountain after this late had been calculated and in dedicated areas where people knew to find you. You had protection from the elements and animals. It had never been this late in the year. The thoughts nag at the back of your head. Maybe it is a feeling of politeness towards a fellow hiker, or maybe it's just the want to not have the local police up on the mountain tomorrow over a dead body, but you stop in your tracks.

Fuck it.

“Hey, um, it’s pretty late.” You call out, turning around to the man.

“Hah?!” He pauses, turning his head just enough to look at you out of the corner of his eye. A shiver runs down your back.

“I’m just saying that you should probably begin to head down. The mountain gets much more dangerous after sunset. Oh!” You reach around to your backpack, hand rummaging around until you grasp a familiar can. “Especially the bears. They’ll start hibernating soon so they’re more aggressive than normal.” No response. Okay.  Maybe a peace offering. “I don't see any bear spray on you. You can take mine, I have extra.”

You give a polite smile and hold it out with your hand, prepared to throw it up to him if necessary. For a moment he just stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. Then he turns away with a small grunt, continuing his walk up the mountain. Your smile falls as your mouth opens in shock. Is he just...going to leave you standing here holding out the bear spray like a damned fool? Without saying anything?!

You watch him walk away, hand clutching harder at the can as your anger rises. Eventually, you lower your hand, shoving the spray roughly back in your pack. You grumble angrily to yourself and turn around, stomping harsher than normal down the path.

Okay, so he’s an asshole then.

Still, completely rude or not, you can’t help but be a bit worried. You make good time down to the bottom of the mountain and trek your way through the forest to the street you parked your car on. The sun has completely set by the time you turn on your engine and drive away.

Well, you tried to warn him. If something happens, it’s not your fault. Right? Right.

With a groan, you pop a rock CD into your stereo and turn it on full blast. Anything to distract you from that nagging feeling in your gut. Makkari isn’t too far from the mountain, so that feeling hasn’t completely gone away by the time you pull into your childhood home. Your dad though, sitting on the front step reading a book, does the job. You smile and turn off the engine.

The rest of the night goes by quickly, as both of you have a lot to say to each other. Dinner is a relatively calm affair, and you take a bath before heading to bed. The bed is much smaller and harder than the nice one you splurged on in your apartment, but being in it brings a sense of nostalgia and comfort that only a childhood bedroom can have. Dad hasn’t changed a thing since you left.

You sit on the bed, pulling your hair into a comfortable do for sleep, when your eyes catch the outline of the mountain in the distance from your window. You sigh, sending a quick wish that he made it alright, before sliding under the covers and passing out.

You wake up to sounds from downstairs. For a brief moment, you are confused, as you have been blessed with an apartment with thicker walls than normal, but then you remember. You stretch in bed and smile. It has been a while since you have had the opportunity to sleep in. Why do people rarely get in trouble during normal business hours?

Finally forcing yourself out of bed, you wander to the bathroom before heading downstairs in your pajamas. The smell of breakfast is already making your stomach growl.

“Get dressed.” His voice echoes through the house.

“But- how- you’re not even looking!” You protest, feet pausing on the stairs. “How do you even know?!”

“I always know.”

Ugh. “Such a Dad answer.” You grumble, turning to head back upstairs. You’re a grown adult, if you want to wear pajamas to breakfast you will. Not that you would say that to him though. Nope. Not going to die on that hill today.

You put a little more effort into your appearance this time, dressing and putting your hair into a casual do before heading back downstairs. Dad, already fully dressed, gives you a look but says nothing. You stick out your tongue at his back, feeling like a teenager again. You sit down at your usual chair as he begins to set the table.

The breakfast you ate regularly as a kid but haven’t been really able to replicate successfully since moving out gets placed down in front of you. You wait for Dad to be sitting down too before grabbing pieces for yourself. For a brief, glorious moment, you are both silent.

“So, have you met anyone?”

And it's over. You swallow your food, looking carefully away.  “I meet lots of people. It’s a big city.”

You can practically feel his eyes stare into you. “You know what I mean.”

With a breath, you put down your utensils. “Dad, we go over this every time we talk. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Can we stop discussing this now?

“Is it because of-”

“No! It isn’t because of him.” You interrupt, looking him straight in the eye.“Why does it matter? I can be happy on my own.”

“I just...want you to be taken care of and protected.” Dad finally looks away. “I need you to be safe.”

“Dad, I don’t need someone to protect me.” You sigh. “I can protect myself, you know? I’m a big girl.”

You watch his reaction, but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker over behind your head, to the picture on the wall you know he is staring at. It tugs at your heart. “Move back to Makkari?” His voice is quieter now.

It’s an argument you’ve had countless times before over the phone. When you first moved to Sapporo he asked you almost every day. Luckily, it isn’t that bad anymore, but you can still rely on a call anytime a villain is even close to Hokkaido.

“No.” You shake your head, catching his eyes as he looks back. “I have my job, my friends, and my life in Sapporo. I love you Dad, but I can’t live here.”

“You could be happy here.” He insists. “There are no villain attacks. No heroes.” His eyes flicker back over your shoulder. “You can be safe.”

“Nobody is safe anywhere Dad.” You sit back, frustration draining. “We could die any day. I don’t want to live my life in fear. That is not a life.” The flinch in his shoulders makes a bit of guilt dig into your stomach. It was a low blow, but you were not going to let this escalate. Not this time. Not here.

You finish your breakfast in silence, both in thought. While he gets the sink ready to wash, you gather up the dishes. It almost feels like you never left. You grab the drying cloth and get ready to help dry. While waiting, you glance out the window. The mountain looms ahead, big and beautiful as normal. You can’t wait to get another crack at it. Not today, probably, but soon.

Wait. The mountain.

“Oh.” You turn to your Dad. “Is there anyone new in the village?”

“A resident?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Anyone, really.”

Dad hums in thought for a moment before passing you a plate. “I believe Tanaka said he saw a guest at Fuccanchi. Why?”

“I saw someone on the mountain yesterday.” You explain, leaving out the part of you actually climbing up alone. “It was late, so I stopped the car and tried to warn him not to be out late. He still went in. I’m a bit worried.”

“It is late in the season to be going up the mountain.” Dad mused. “We can ask Tanaka when we’re in the village.” He hands you another plate. You grab it and begin drying.

“Okay.”  

---

NOTE: I will be posting these on tumblr approximately a week after the chapters are posted on Ao3 (we are currently at chapter 7, so I will be quicker with these ones). When caught up, Ao3 will be approximately one chapter ahead. 

[luckysevenwrites]

Almost Do

Y/n and Yoongi have been broken up for months now. They know that being broken up is whats best for both of them but that doesn’t stop them from thinking about each other. From almost going back to one another and seeing if they can fix things. 

           Walking the streets of Seoul, you are lost in your own thoughts that you are not paying attention to where your feet are leading you. It is not until you collide with another person that you realize where you have wondered to. Tae reaches out to steady you and when he realizes who has bumped into him, he gives you his boxy smile. You blink a few times before your mind catches up to who is smiling at you, and you return the smile.

           “Y/n what are you doing here?” he asks you. You think that he almost looks hopeful, like you have purposefully come here instead of accidently wondering here.

           “I…um…I didn’t mean to come here. It seems my feet have a mind of their own,” you admit to the man. He nods in understanding before looking up at the building. You follow his gaze and know exactly what he is looking at.

           Yoongi is still in the studio working. The lights for the floor that his studio is on are still on and you can just picture him in his chair, headphones on, and hunched over slightly. The thought brings a tug to your heart. You wonder if he has ever thought about you. Because you have thought about him more times than you can count. There have been so many times that you have thought about picking up the phone and calling him. But you stop yourself knowing that it is better this way.

           “You should go up and talk to him. He would like to see you,” Tae breaks you out of your thoughts and you take a quick step back.

           “No, no that’s not a good idea,” you shake your head, “I don’t want to interrupt him while he’s working.”

           “He wouldn’t care if it was you,” you almost believe Tae, but you know that he is probably just saying that.

           Besides if Tae knew that Yoongi has reached out to you and has tried to talk to you. But each time you have ignored the messages he wouldn’t be telling you to go up and talk to him. Instead, he would be telling you that it would be better if Yoongi doesn’t see you. And then he would ask you if you hate him or have moved on, or if your relationship with him had meant nothing to you.

           “I’ll think about it. You should get going I’m sure your tired,” you give Tae’s arm a squeeze and a smile of reassurance. Tae agrees and gives you a quick hug before he heads off down the street.

           You look back up at the building and stare at the lights. How many times have you walked here and looked up at that floor and saw the lights on? How many times did you walk into this building, get in the elevator, and make your way towards his studio? The smart thing to do is to walk away you tell yourself. It would be the best thing you could do, walking away and not looking back. Unfortunately, you were not being smart tonight and you walked through the door and headed for the elevator.

           Riding up to Yoongi’s studio you think about all the times that you had almost answered his messages or calls. You think about the endless number of times that you have picked up the phone and almost called him yourself. There have been so many times that you wanted to just go back to him and try and make it work. The elevator pings and the doors open. Stepping out you look down the hallway and walk towards his studio. You stop in front of his door and look down at his welcome matt and smile.

           Looking back up at the door you hesitate. Should you just type in the passcode and let yourself in or should you knock. Should you even let him know that you are here? What would you even say to him? That you found yourself in the area and you just couldn’t stay away anymore. That you have wanted to reach out to him for the past two months now. Then what? What would any of that lead to, it wouldn’t fix anything your problems that the two of you had would still be there. Nothing has changed or been fixed. You are still the same two people who broke up.

           Reaching your hand up you form it into a fist and almost knock on the door. For a split second you let yourself imagine that you do knock. That Yoongi opens the door, and he smiles at you and everything that has gone wrong between the two of you disappears and you start over. You let yourself think that this time things will be different. That the two of you will have a better relationship. And the imagine is so real that you almost knock on the door. You almost do.

Yoongi

           Yoongi sits in his chair staring at his computer screen. He is supposed to be working on a new song for their comeback yet, he cannot get himself to focus. His mind keeps wondering to you. He glances over at the clock and figures that you are probably just getting home from work. You’re probably exhausted, he can just picture you walking into your place kicking off your shoes, stumbling to the couch, and faceplanting it into the couch.

           Pulling his phone out of his pocket he scrolls to your name and hesitates over your name. He knows what the result is going to be you’ll let the phone ring, or you’ll send him straight to voicemail. Scrolling past your name Yoongi find another and clicks on that instead. The phone rings a few times before a drowsy voice answer his call.

           “Hello,” mumbles Hobi.

           “I’m going to ask you something and all I want is a yes or no answer nothing else,” Yoongi states.

           “Yoongi?” Hobi sounds confused and Yoongi waits for his sleepy brain to catch up.

           “Yeah, it’s me and I have a question,” Yoongi waits for Hobi to wake up some more before he asks his question, “Do I call Y/n yes or no.”

           “Yoongi,” Hobi tries to start but Yoongi isn’t letting him get far.

           “Yes or no Hobi,” Yoongi clips at him.

           “No,” Hobi sighs it sounds like it almost hurt him to say it.

           “No?” Yoongi is surprised, Hobi is usually the one telling him to never give up.

           “No, I like the two of you together, but y/n isn’t answering you and I hate seeing you hurt every time they don’t. So, my answer is no do not call y/n.”

           “Okay, thanks Hobi. Go back to bed.” Yoongi tells him before hanging up the phone. Don’t call you. He won’t call you but that doesn’t stop his mind from thinking about you and if you have moved off your couch. If you have eaten or had a good day at work.

           Groaning Yoongi scrubs his hands up and down his face. He needs to stop thinking about you. You haven’t answered any of his calls or messages that he has sent. That should be answer enough for him that you are officially done with him. In fact, you probably hate him and have already started to move on. Still, that didn’t stop him from picking up his phone all those times and reaching out to you.

           Getting frustrated with himself Yoongi pushes away from his desk and decides that he needs some fresh air. Maybe that will help him get you out of his head and focused on his work. As he is walking towards his door, he stops noticing a shadow appearing in front of his door. It’s much to short though to be any of the members and all the staff have left hours ago. He stares at the shadow trying to think of who it could be.

           It’s as he is staring at the figure that he realizes who it is. You, you are standing outside his door and he almost goes running towards the door and flings it open. But he doesn’t he holds himself back watching your figure through the door. You are just standing there, and he wants nothing more than for you to punch in the code to just walk into his studio. You raise your hand as if you are going to knock and Yoongi waits but your hand freezes in midair.

           It is like the two of you are locked in limbo. You are deciding on whether you should knock and him waiting for you to choose. It is in this moment that Yoongi let’s himself imagine what would happen if you did knock. He can see himself opening the door to you and letting everything that has happened between the two of you disappear. He imagines himself cupping your face between his hands and saying, “Let’s give us another chance.”

           Then your hand drops and you start to back away and Yoongi takes a step forward. Catching himself he stops and pulls back. You did not knock, that’s his answer he shouldn’t go and chase after you because you don’t want him to. He wants to though he wants nothing more than to run to you and for you to turn around and see him and to smile. To let everything that has gone wrong between the two of you to wash away and for you both to start over. Yoongi almost does.  

[tamakissimp]

T.A- maid dress

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: After seeing a video on social media, you get Tamaki to wear a maid dress which quickly leads to something more.

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: kissing, grinding, saying ‘good boy’, maid dress?, sub!tamaki 

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1321

𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥: see here

a/n: Tamaki in a maid dress makes my brain go brrrrrrr (also I'm a whore for him)

Peaceful moments like these are uncommon at UA. Most of the times, the students are either working through piles of homework or stressing about their futures. Due to this, you and Tamaki took an hour each night where you would just cuddle together or hang out.

So while Tamaki's body encases yours, you're scrolling through social media on your phone. Tiktok to be more specific. Tamaki watches along with droopy eyes.

"T-That's Mirio," he says softly. The video displayed on your phone is a compilation of a guy saying 'good morning y'all' a bunch of times. You smile softly as you nod, scrolling towards the next video.

It's a guy in a maid outfit. Jetblack cat ears are situated on the top of his head while a choker adorns his neck. He shakes his hips along to some cheesy music.

"Maid outfits are hot," you say suddenly before scrolling to the next video. Tamaki's body stiffens for a second. He knew about maid outfits. Every teen with internet knew about them. And he would be lying if he said he didn't want to try one on.

"Y-You think?". His voice is wobbly as his arms wrap tighter around you. You look over your shoulder at him. A dark red blush dusts over Tamaki's cheeks and ears.

"You would look hot in one," you say. Tamaki's blood runs cold, in a good way. A nervous giggle falls past his lips. Quickly, a clasps a hand over his mouth but the damage is already done.

You now turn so that you're now facing him. One of your hands reaches up to play with his hair as the other rests against his chest. "Will you were one for me?".

Tamaki quickly shakes his head. He wants to, god he does. But just the thought of the embarrassment that would come along with wearing a dress makes his mind go fuzzy.

"But you'll look so pretty in one," you say with a fake pout. How can Tamaki so no to you when you have such pretty puppy dog eyes.

He quickly buries his face into the crook of your neck to hide his ever-growing blush. He quickly nods against you. A soft smile dances on your lips as you put down your phone.

"I-I'll wear o-one.".

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

"Tama," you say softly. A whine is all you get in response. "Do you want to come out? I want to see my pretty boy.".

The soft rustling of fabric and clinging of bells sound from behind the bathroom door. "T-This is....em-embarrassing.". A soft smile tugs on your lips at his words.

"You can take it off if you want to," you say.

"No," Tamaki answers too quickly. You softly tap the pads of your fingers against the door.

It stays silent again. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed it onto Tamaki. Wearing something different than his UA uniform already gives him chills, let alone wearing a skimpy maid outfit.

All of a sudden, the bathroom door is ripped open. You take a step back out of reflex. Before you stands a red-cheeked Tamaki. His hands are desperately trying to tug the maid dress down. Your eyes rake of his body.

The puffy, black skirt is lined with white lace. The skirt reaches his midthighs, though it doesn't leave much up to the imagination. A pristine, white apron is tightly wrapped around his waist. The short sleeves and tight top perfectly show off the muscles he's worked so hard on. Indigo bunny ears are clipped into his hair.

"Tama, baby," you say. You reach a hand up to stroke his cheek. The touch startles him causing him to look straight into your eyes. Tamaki squirm under the eye-contact. "You look so cute."

The blush that used to be only dusting his cheeks now creeps up until the tips of his ears are bright pink. "I-I do?" Tamaki asks. You nod at him. You gently take his hand and drag him towards the small couch in his room. He added it after you whined that you couldn't hang in bed all day. Now you could hang out on the couch instead.

Tamaki pulls on the skirt of the dress as he sits down. You sit down next to him, bodies pressed against each other. "Tama," you start again as you now start to play with his hair.

He keeps his eyes trained on the floor as you continue to teach him. Your hand travels down to tug softly on the choker wrapped around his neck. The bell attached to it chimes causing giggles to flow past your lips.

"You're so pretty," you say as you lean in closer. Your lips hover over the shell of his ear. Lime and chamomile flow into your nose, Tamaki's signature scent. "My pretty boy.".

Tamaki whines as you press a kiss against his ear, travelling down to plant them on his neck instead. "Can you sit on my lap?" you ask. Within a flash, the boy is seated on you, straddling your thighs.

"Good boy," you say pull the collar of the maid outfit down a bit to kiss his collarbones. A high pitched moan falls of Tamaki's lips. Quickly, he bites down onto his lips to stifle and other sounds.

"You like it when I call you a good boy?" you ask. Tamaki nods as he leans down to rest his head against your shoulder. You stop your teasing and opt to run a hand through his hair instead.

"P-please," he says. You nudge him slightly, irking him to continue talking. "Please c-call me a good- a good b-boy.". You smile to yourself as you softly pull Tamaki off your shoulder.

The sight of him crumbling in your hands is one that you can look at for hours. Flushed skin, trembling thighs and wobbling lips. He is truly angelic when he's falling apart before you. You slowly lean in closer, dragging one hand over his left thigh while the other plays with his choker.

"You want me to kiss you?" you ask. Your lips are ghosting over his, breathing mingling with one another. He nods quickly yet carefully. "Use your words.".

"P-please kiss m-me," he says. A smile tugs on your lips before you close the space between you. His soft lips feel like pillows against yours. Soft whines rolls of his tongue in between the soft kiss you two share.

The hand that was previously occupied with playing with the choker now creeps around to the back of his neck. You push his head towards you slightly, forcing him into a deeper kiss.

A high moan ring through the air as Tamaki subconsciously grinds his hips against yours. The hand on his thigh quickly moves up to still his bucking hips. Tamaki whines in response.

"Did I say you could do that, baby boy?" you ask. Your lips are still dancing against his. The innocent closeness drives him wild. Tamaki quickly shakes his head in shame. "You won't to be a good boy, right? Good boys aren't so slutty.".

"I-I'm sorry. I'll be good. P-Please, just k-kiss me," he says. You nod as you press your lips against his again. Within no time, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You part your lips slightly and Tamaki eagerly pushes his tongue inside.

His shyness is long forgotten as he fists the fabric of your shirt, hips bucking in the air in an attempt to keep himself from grinding into you. Your hand moves from his hips to his back. Pushing up the fabric of his skirt to kneed and pinch at his thigh and ass.

His loud moans are stifled by your mouth. Your touch ignites his whole body. His nerves are on fire and his sensitivity is through the roof. "You're such a good boy for me," you say, earning a whimper from him.

"My good boy.".

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.20)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twenty) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,859 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: Steve has feelings! But he’s still a dick. And so is Tony tbh.

Part Nineteen || Part Twenty One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve walked into the Avengers facility, heading towards the conference room where Bucky and Sam were supposed to be waiting. He was already on edge with how Y/N had reacted to the whole situation. He had expected her to be upset but she acted like she hated him. Even after he had told her she should think about the money. He hoped the next time he saw her, she was a little more grateful and had more perspective on the situation considering she would be more separated from her initial adrenaline.

The meeting was quick, the supervisors meeting with them over hologram. They were pleased with the result, having captured Qian and the illegal bombs he was trying to sell to Perez. The trio hung up feeling relief that everything had gone smoothly. Sam got up quickly after they hung up, telling them he had to meet Natasha to go over the next mission he had already been handed. That just left Steve and Bucky in the room.

“Is she alright?” Bucky asked as Steve started to get up from his chair. Steve leveled him with a look before settling back in the chair.

“She’s fine,” Steve returned curtly.

“She didn’t seem fine,” Bucky told him. Steve shot him an annoyed look and Bucky said, “Well, she didn’t.”

“She’s prone to dramatics. She’ll get over it in no time. Plus, she’s got protective daddy Tony to coddle her. I’m sure he’s already back there to cuddle and pamper her. She’s becoming a spoiled brat. And he’s not helping.”

“Didn’t he tell you to not get attached?” Bucky half joked and closed his mouth when Steve glared. “Right. Stark is a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ kind of guy.”

Steve shook his head, tapping his fingers on the table. “With what everyone knows about us, you would think it would’ve been me to catch feelings,” he muttered. “Not the playboy.”

“So, you’re telling me you have no feelings whatsoever,” Bucky said, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice despite the calmness of his tone. Steve glared across the table at him again, and Bucky stared back defensively this time.

“Does it matter? She’s not my wife,” Steve finally said tightly. “Besides, like I told you, Tony is encroaching.”

“Tony’s married too—”

“Tony doesn’t give a shit about his wife. They’re married at this point for the kids, appearances, and for his ego. The last probably being the most important to him.” He chewed on his bottom lip and looked at Bucky with a guilty conscience.

“What?”

“I wasn’t even supposed to be around her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tony already threatened me to stay away.”

Bucky cocked his head, this being new information to him. Steve had not told anyone about the encounter between him and Tony after the meeting where they saw Laurie, save for Wylan and Eric who had seen the encounter. They had kept their mouths closed after Steve had threatened them.

“I might have… been messing with her birth control.”

Bucky looked dumbfounded and he shook his head, leaning back. “Steve—”

“Don’t you give me a lecture too!” Steve snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like. To be so in love with a woman and then realize she’s only in it for the money ultimately. And you can’t… let her go. Even then. And then you have her pregnant and not know if it’s yours or not because she’s been messing around.” He paused before exhaling sharply. “And then we had Y/N. And that seemed a perfect opportunity. One to start fresh. And I liked her. She’s cute, funny, great in bed, has her own interests. It was good. Even if it meant sharing…” He trailed off.

“You didn’t want to keep sharing though,” Bucky commented after a few moments of silence. “You wanted her to love you.”

Steve said nothing.

“And she went for Tony,” Bucky finished.

Steve’s jaw ticked and he clipped, “Even after his wife knocked her a good one.” He met Bucky’s eyes again and said, “So, again, what does it matter? I tried to give her an angle of paying her debt off – slowly but surely – and she still didn’t respond. So, The only thing I need to keep track of is if she’s pregnant or not. And we will cross that bridge when we come to it.”

<><><>

You woke up, hearing the soft purr and feeling the fluff against your neck. Luna had curled up on the bed next to you.

Tony was still in bed, dressed. It was dark outside; how long had you been sleeping? He noticed you were awake and looked away from the hologram on the tablet he was working with.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, closing the hologram.

You shrugged, stretching underneath the sheets. “I guess.” Luna jumped off the bed as you stretched, stretching on the ground herself before trotting towards the door. Probably to go eat.

“As well as you could,” Tony said as a matter of fact and you eyed him. He sounded like he understood what that felt like… sleeping under stress.

You nodded, “Yeah. As well as I could. Thank you.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I had Shake Shack delivered.” You smirked at that and he asked, “What?”

“You and burgers.”

“It’s a comfort thing,” he told you.

Sitting up, you smiled at him. “Well, yes I would like to indulge in comfort with you.”

Your eyes drug down his face and you bit your bottom lip. You needed to keep Tony happy, he was protecting you. Before dinner, you wanted to give him a good time. He had kept his word, staying by you while you slept when he knew you were frightened. That meant something.

“Wanna work up an appetite?” you asked, scooting closer.

“Y/N, you don’t have to—” Tony started to say but you silenced him by forcing your lips to his, your hand holding the back of his head. He gave up on protesting then, very easily, kissing you back with fervor.

Tony helped you get out of your dress and you went to tearing his shirt off, his belt going off next, and subsequently everything else. The skin on skin contact was comforting, and you fell into it, sinking into the intimacy to escape. He felt safe.

Climbing on top, you sunk down onto him slowly. He breathed shakily, his hands at your hips, holding tight as you adjusted to his width. Inch by inch you took him, deeper each time you rolled your hips.

Pushing the thought of the ending of the last time you had found yourself in this exact position, you rotated your hips slowly at first, picking up pace over time. Tony threw his head back against the pillows, his eyes closed, biting his bottom lip. Hands planted on his chest, you worked him and yourself up into a frenzy before you both fell into ecstasy in each other.

Panting, you rolled off of him, him rolling with you, holding you in a tight embrace. His kisses were soft and fierce at the same time along your jawline and up to your lips.

Holding you tucked to his chest, he whispered, “I love you” in between kisses.

The words got stuck in your throat, but he did not seem to notice as he continued caressing and kissing you. You were not ready to say that yet.

<><><>

“Baby, I gotta go,” Tony told you, hovering over you as you woke up the following morning.

That woke you up out of a dead sleep and you sat up further. “For how long?”

“Not long. Just the day. I gotta go home for a bit and then go to the office. Terrence is going to stay in here. I told him no matter what, to stay in here and you are not to leave, even if Steve tells him it’s okay.”

Worriedly, you asked, “And he’ll listen to that?”

“Yes.”

He sounded sincere and you reluctantly said, “Okay.”

Tony gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before he straightened up and walked out of the room. Luna had jumped on the bed and crawled on top of you, kneading.

You looked at her and asked, “Wanna watch Netflix?”

<><><>

Tony saw Steve coming down the hallway. He had gone home for a couple hours, hanging out with the kids. Alessia had not refrained from making the comments about the ‘vacation’ he lied about being on as the excuse of why he had been gone for the days he had been. He had ignored her and enjoyed the play time as well as he could.

But now it was business and he faced Steve with intensity.

“Coming in pretty late, aren’t you?” Steve commented stopping in front of him.

“Spent the morning with the kids,” Tony replied shortly.

“Not with the princess?” Steve taunted.

Tony was not impressed with this response and snapped, “My office.”

Without another word, Tony turned on his heel, heading for it without waiting to get a response from Steve. Steve simpered to himself before following Tony into the office and closing the door. As soon as the door was closed, Tony went in quick.

“I gave you a chance, Steve. I told you to not make me have to tell you three times!”

“So, is this you telling me for the third time?” Steve asked sarcastically.

Tony stepped closer and pointed angrily, “Do you remember when you were so fucking offended she even insinuated that you would hit her? Do you remember that? Let me be the one to tell you that you have done so much worse!” Steve gave a wry laugh and Tony snapped, “You traumatized her, Steve! She is a fucking mess!”

“Oh, give me a break. Don’t buy that overdramatic shit,” Steve retorted. “She’s milking it for attention!”

“And how dare you tell her I knew about it!”

“Was she mad about that?” Steve asked sardonically just to push Tony’s buttons more. “I’m sorry. Did she not let you ride her?”

Tony started to sneer, “You stupid son of—"

“She earned money,” Steve cut in.

“Don’t play that card.”

“What card?”

“Like you were helping her!”

“Was I not?”

“Were you serious about giving her money to pay off some of her debt?”

“Yeah. I was,” Steve told him, and Tony shook his head, furious. “What? Why not dangle the carrot?”

“Because that’s fucked up, Steve!”

“And what we were doing before wasn’t? Who cares if it never came to fruition? She still could have felt some accomplishment from it!”

“We weren’t lying to her about what the situation was like you just decided to pull!” Tony raised his voice defensively.

“You think she’s going to ever be happy? With either of us?” Steve asked Tony seriously. “Sure, we weren’t lying to her before and she knew she was supposed to do whatever we said. But is that really a basis for a good relationship? I mean… apparently you think it is. Like I said before.”

Tony ignored the jab and said fiercely, “Steve, if you have even a slightest bit of hope she is pregnant, why are you doing that shit to her?”

“I have confidence in myself and my team. And it proved right, as it usually does. She didn’t get hurt. And as far as her being pregnant, yeah, I had that on my mind. If you didn’t think I had that on my mind…” He paused before saying, “I wouldn’t have put her in that situation if I wasn’t confident. Trust me on that one. I’m not reckless like you. Racing for her when you’re not even a professional.”

“Oh, fuck off. That was completely different.”

“How?”

“I didn’t leave her! I had no intention of even attempting to do that! It was to protect her! Not to complete some stupid mission she had no business being a part of!”

Steve threw his hands out before they came to rest on his hips. He let out a laugh, “Right. Tony. Always the savior.”

Tony asked annoyed, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Steve snapped. “We’ve already had this conversation! It’s established you’re good cop and I’m bad cop now. I’m sure you already told her about me with the BC now that I’m painted as the bad guy just to make yourself look even better.”

Tony stepped closer, pissed off. “You know what, Steve? No. I didn’t. I didn’t tell her when I found out and I still haven’t told her. I wish you would have a little bit more faith in me than that!”

“Oh, so we are both in that secret now. I’ve made you an accomplice. Wonder what will happen when that dam breaks when she finds out she’s pregnant!” Steve snarled at him.

Tony exploded, “She’s not pregnant, Steve!”

Steve looked flabbergasted for a few moments before he scoffed, “You don’t—”

“I do!” Tony bellowed at him, causing Steve to close his mouth in surprise. “I made her take a test the same goddamn day you told me! It was negative! So, no! She’s not!” Steve ground his teeth, staring Tony down. Tony ran his hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. “So, you’ve got no stake in that. And it seems you really just do not give a shit about her outside of that. You’ve proven that! It seems like it’s just money for you now. And if it’s money you’re worried about, do you think I won’t buy you out?” Tony gave a wry laugh, throwing his hands out. “Me? Not be able to throw some money around? I’ll give you even more if it’ll guarantee you don’t come within 300 yards of her!”

Steve was still silent, shaking his head.

“What? What do you have to say?” Tony exclaimed irritated.

“You don’t know for sure yet about the pregnancy!” Steve said in a low voice, shaking his head again.

Tony gave him an incredulous look, “Are you deaf, Steve? I—”

“I heard what you said! You… god. Do you even remember how it worked or did Alessia just handle it on her own?” Steve asked him harshly. Tony waited expectantly and Steve shrugged, “That answers that. You need to do it two weeks after a missed period.” He held up two fingers for dramatics, pissed off. “You asked her about that? If she’s had one yet? She’s been off the pills for over a month! You can definitely take a test too early! It just happened with Cecile, I should know!”

Tony was silent now and Steve scoffed loudly. He stepped closer and said angrily, “So, you can coddle her and play your big bad protector, sugar daddy role.” Tony clenched his jaw at that, insulted by the comment and Steve pressed on, not caring; it only made him more animated. “Whatever you are planning on doing. She was far too fucking over dramatic when I saw her last anyway. She’s your problem for now.”

“’For now’.”

“Yes, for now,” Steve snapped back at him. “If she is pregnant, I am not going to let that go.”

“Looks like you’ll be waiting on yet another pregnancy test to see if it’s yours. Funny how you keep finding yourself in these situations,” Tony said coolly.

Steve stared at Tony, looking murderous for about two seconds before he laughed a curt laugh. Tony knew it was coming a split second before Steve swung at him. Tony almost moved quick enough but he got clipped.

As he stumbled, he hit the arc reactor. The suit built around him quick but not quick enough because Steve socked him again, sending him spiraling. But the suit’s hands dug into the floor as it completed, catching Tony before he fell completely flat. He was up in a second, meeting Steve’s oncoming fist.

“Steve!” Tony grated as Steve yanked his hands out of the suit’s grasp with effort. “Stop it!”

Steve ignored him, swinging again and Tony deflected. Steve swung again and Tony gripped Steve’s fist in his and struggled to hold him. Steve got free and socked Tony again, knocking him back. Tony sent a short burst of power at him, knocking Steve onto his stomach. Steve was back up in a moment and Tony was ready with an uppercut, sending Steve back to his knees.

His office door opened and Happy was standing there with Rhodes.

“Stay back!” Tony shouted at the two of them as Steve got back up.

Steve had a trail of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth, his hair and suit disheveled. His gaze was fixed on Tony’s suit.

“Final warning, Steve,” Tony said lowly, holding up his hand, lighting up the repulsor threateningly.

Steve was stiff, hatred in his expression. He straightened out his suit aggressively, brushing at his slacks.

“I’d do another pregnancy test, Stark,” Steve sneered before wiping at his mouth and turning on his heel. He shoved past Happy and Rhodey, knocking shoulders with them.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16 @last-saturday-night 

[yungbud]

Hi my love! When you have time could you write an fluffy & smutty imagine where the reader gets insecure & worries or compares themselves to Ashley? (Halsey) & Dom finds out & shows the reader how much they mean to him & how much he loves them daddy kink in there with the smut please & a lot of praise & saying "I'll take care of you pretty girl" 🥺

Word count:4.1k

TW?: mostly angst and fluff, but mentions of daddy kink and adult themes obviously its smut.

A/n: anything for you my lil nugget 🥺 Smut is at the bottom you horny cunts. I hope it was everything you wanted and more <33

*rewrite

You knew better. Unfortunately, you were self destructive and couldn't help yourself. It was 3AM and Dom was fast asleep beside you, and had been for hours. You, however, had chosen to watch a video before bed. It was titled “Yungblud being cute for 6 minutes straight.”, but of course one video turned to five or six more, until eventually you came along another video. This one was called “Halsey and yungblud cute moments.” and the cover photo was of them in onesies, one of Dom's arms wrapped around her and the other holding the camera. You could feel the pit begin to grow in your stomach. Glancing over at Dom to check he was still asleep, you pressed play on the video, flipping over so you were facing him, so that if he did wake up he wouldn’t see what was on the screen.

It was ridiculous, honestly. How could you be jealous of her when you were the one laying right next to him. It broke your heart the way he looked at her, you couldn’t help but wonder... is that how he looks at you? Why would he? She’s so beautiful, look at jawline, look at those eyes and her voice. Oh god... her voice, she's a musician. You loved music, but you had never been musically inclined and at best you could go hard on the triangle. But her, she understood it all, down to the tour life. When he was overwhelmed with work or couldn’t find a melody, she could help, when he didn’t know how to deal with all the attention, she could help. She was like the perfect mentor/ girlfriend combo. She connected with him in ways you would never be able to. She got it.

Your finger hovered over part 2 of the video, a moment of hesitation before pressing it. You tapped twice more to skip past the person's intro, wasting no time in getting to the painful stuff. 

One of the first clips was Halsey talking about the night they met. You knew it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t look away. She described it so beautifully, taking a moment to mention that of course she would because she's a writer and that's how she saw the world, her world was so beautiful. Dom deserved to live in her world. 

She went on to say that they had met up in a bar to chat, to which you remembered why. It wasn’t a coincidence, Dom liked her music. He looked up to her. Just another way you could never be who he needed. 

You couldn’t help it. He’d made the trade down of the century and everyone knew it. You paused the video momentarily, subduing the verbal attack on your ears and laying your phone down on your chest. Heavy breaths slid past your lips as you tried to calm yourself from a full blown breakdown.

 You glanced once more over at Dom, ensuring he was asleep before letting a single tear slip down your face. You used the blanket to wipe it away, basking in the shitty feeling you had created for yourself. You decided that was enough of that, shutting off your phone and plugging it up for the night. After laying there silently for a moment you scooted a bit away from Dom. 

You didn’t really feel like being held by him tonight.

----

The first thought in your head the next morning was of the events of last night, the same shitty feeling digging itself into the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck.” You sighed

“Sorry, I was borrowing one of Dom’s shirts. I didn’t mean to wake you.”  You turned your head to acknowledge the presence in the room. It was Tom, bent over and digging through a pile of Dom’s clothes.

“All good.” You murmured, flipping onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. It smelled like Dom.

Soon after you heard the door shut behind Tom as he left, your head lifting from the pillow. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t really feel like being around Dom today. You couldn’t get past the feeling that he was ultimately worse off with you, that he had settled for less.

You hated the way you felt, your face drooping back into the pillow in an attempt to hide and ended up dozing off, the late night pity marathon catching up with you.

About an hour later you were awoken to Dom’s lips on your forehead. Your eyes met momentarily as you blinked the sleep out of them, reaching upwards in a stretch.

“ ‘ello sleepy head.” Dom says, planting another kiss, this time to your nose. You roll over, replanting your face in the pillow once again, “Are you going back to sleep?” He asks

“Tired.” You mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“It’s 1pm.” no response “How late did you stay up last night?” He asks, laying his head on the pillow next to yours. You shrugged.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” You shifted your head so that you were looking at him, cheek still pressed softly against your pillow “Are you feeling a bit sick? Is it cramps? I can make you a cup of tea and get you some pain killers.” He continued, offering to help you in any way he could. He just wanted to know what was wrong with you, so he could help you. He hated the idea of you up in bed all alone feeling ill. He considered skipping the studio today, he was already cutting it close on time.

“No, I feel fine. Just need a nap. I must’ve stayed up later than I realized, s’all.” You knew you needed to tell him. Every silent moment was filled with you trying to convince yourself to just say something to him. Just talk about it. Just let him in.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out of the house at the studio, but Tom and Adam are here if you need them. I’ll tell them to be quiet so you can get some rest.” You smiled in response, your eyes closing as he rubbed his thumb lovingly against your cheek “Hey, I love you.” he says, your eyes opening as you mumbled back an I love you of your own, your lips meeting in a chaste kiss before he stood back up and slipped out the door.

As much as you would’ve loved to, you didn’t sleep at all after he left. Tom and Adam had made good on their promise to stay quiet, but it didn’t make much of a difference when that little voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. You opted for distracting yourself with your phone, scrolling through instagram and hoping the memes would brighten your mood. For the most part they did, acting as a simple distraction. 

Once you felt a bit better, you decided part of the reason you felt so bad today and last night was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t had anything to eat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself lunch, hearing Tom and Adam talking quietly in the other room.

While you were preparing your food you accidentally bumped into a stack of dirty dishes that had built up in the kitchen. You didn’t see what happened and when you turned to check nothing looked broken, but it was loud.

“Y/n?” Tom asks, tilting his head to get a better look into the kitchen.

“Hm?” You respond after a few moments of quiet deliberation. You weren’t exactly ready to be observed as awake, but you didn’t have any other choice, besides blaming it on an intruder who broke in with the intent of stealing the beloved orange tree outside, but when they arrived in the kitchen and were met with such a disgraceful mess decided they had no choice but to clean up after us. Of course, that might have stirred up a bit of a panic. They loved that orange tree, after all.

“Oh you’re finally up. Are you feeling alright? Dom said he thought you maybe came down with something.” Adam says

“I’m alright, thanks for asking. I’m just making myself lunch.”

“Come sit with us while you eat. We’re playing uno.” Tom invites. When you’re done making yourself food, you decide maybe it would be best to join them. It’s not good for your mental health to be stuffed up in your room pitying yourself all day.

You sat with your food in front of you, watching silently as they played.

“You wanna be dealt in the next round? It’s more fun with three players.” Tom offers, you give him a nod in response as your mouth is full of food. As you nod, Adam plays a red six, which ultimately leads to his demise as Tom then plays three red draw 2’s, stopping Adams hand as he goes to pick up and continuing to lay a red skip, then a yellow one, changes the color back to red and ends on his own red 3. You all laughed as Adam was absolutely massacred, almost choking on your lunch.

“There ain’t no coming back from that. Just tap out man.” You say through your laughter, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Adam. You all had small conversation as you finished your lunch, but soon you were done and the cards were passed out.

After a game or two, the round was paused as Adam stood up to get himself a glass of water, Tom and you shouting out your own drink orders from your place in the living room. By the time Adam was back at the table the running conversation had died down a bit. You began to think about why you’d been in bed all day, and the fact that Dom still attributed it to a small sickness. You felt the insecurity growing inside you once again, and you finally decided to talk about it.

“Did you guys like Ashley?” You ask, as inconspicuously as you could manage.  You watch as they glance at each other, taking a sip of your drink to occupy your mouth.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Tom says, Adam nodding in confirmation “Why?”

“Just curious, I guess. Did you guys ever hang out?” You tried to play it off as casual conversation, but you got the feeling they were picking up on the fact that there was something more under the surface.

“Not really. Not without Dom, even then it was rare. Who’s turn was it?” Tom continued, feeding into your curiosity while trying to maintain the card game.

“Yours, I think.” You paused for a moment, thinking of your next question “Do you think she was better for him than I am?” Your eyes met with Tom’s as the words left your mouth. He stayed silent for a moment and you couldn’t tell what the emotion on his face was. It felt weird, confiding in your boyfriend’s friends. Usually you could tell what your friends were thinking, or have an idea about what they might say, but you didn’t know these two like that.

“Like how?” He asked, nodding towards you to silently mention it was your turn.

“I dunno, they have the same career.” they let out a small laugh at that.

“She knows how to play a guitar so she loves him more?” Adam says

“Well, no, but…” you tried to remember what you were anxious about “she gets it. She knows what it's like to be on the road all the time and not see your family, she knows about the mental toll being in the public eye has and how to deal with it, she knows how to help if he’s nervous about performing.”

“What makes you assume that?” Tom asks

“She’s been doing it so long.”

“Well, yeah, but knowing how to do that isn’t a part of the job description. It’s less about knowing how to be famous and more about knowing the person you’re with. If it was about that, most people in Dom’s life don't get it. But we get Dom, and that’s what he cares about. You get him, so you have nothing to worry about.” Tom says softly. He made a surprisingly good therapist. 

You nodded, picking up 4 cards and sorting through them in your hand.

“But that doesn't mean you get to hide in your room cause you’re insecure. Just cause we’re talking about it doesn’t mean you don’t still need to tell him.” Tom continues, his chin resting in his hand as he looks at you.

“Yeah, of course.” You agree

~~~

You could hear Dom the second he walked in the house, engaging in a small conversation with the boys before making his way up the stairs. You heard his footsteps trail down the hallway and eventually meet your bedroom door, your eyes closing as you listened to it creak open.

“Love? Are you up?” Dom whispered, shutting the door softly behind him. You remained silent, trying to regulate your breathing like that of someone who’s asleep. He sighed, which made your heart crumple a bit. You wondered if you should respond, he might’ve had a hard day, but the nerves took over and you remained silent. 

“You’re still sleeping?” He asked, partially to himself, before exiting the room once more. You could hear him talking with Tom from outside the door.

“Has Y/N been asleep all day?”

“Uh, no. She came out and ate lunch and played uno with us around 2. Is she asleep now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

You planned on talking it out with him, and up until he walked into the house you were, but you were suddenly overcome with intense nerves and all you wanted to do was hide.  You figured you would get a good night's rest and talk it out with him in the morning, that way if it went badly he would be out for most of the day at the studio and you wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence as you tried to sleep.

He entered the room once again, stripping himself of his clothes as he preferred to sleep half naked, before joining you in bed. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him and wrapping you both in the blankets. Flipping over to face him, you nuzzled closer into his arms.

“Y/N?” He asks again, shifting to see if you’re awake. You hum in response this time, curious as to what he might have to say.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his hand returning to your cheek as it was this morning. You nod, letting out a small, genuine yawn as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“How was your day?” You ask, shifting the conversation. 

“It was good. We finally got that song done, I think i’m gonna play with it a bit more tomorrow though. It’s good but I think it could be better.”

“You always think it can be better.”

“It always can.” He states simply, making you smile. You loved that about him, his pure determination and dedication to his craft. It can always be better.

“How was your day? Tom said you guys played a bit of uno, who won?”

“It was alright. Yeah, him and Adam were playing when I came down so I decided to join them. I think overall it was probably Tom though, I think he was cheating.” Dom laughed a little at the claim, brushing his fingers through your mess of a hair.

“So...” You began, needing to get a word out so you wouldn’t bail on talking about this. God, you hated confrontation. Especially when it was about something you were feeling. 

Dom hummed in response, the gentle reminder to continue breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?” He encouraged

“No. I was a bit tired though. But, that wasn’t the problem. I was watching youtube last night and I came across a video someone made. It was, like, a compilation of cute moments or whatever so I watched it cause it was cute. Then I watched another, and a few more, and eventually I came across a video that was called ‘Halsey and YUNGBLUD being soulmates for 3 minutes’... and I watched it.” He lets out a small, quiet snort, not entirely catching onto  the vibe of the conversation.

“Jeez, how do they come up with this shit.” He remarked lovingly

“Heh, yeah. It’s just… I watched it and I saw the way you talked about and looked at her… It just got me thinking, yenno?”

“I don’t. What’d it get you thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

“I just felt like maybe you regretted being with me. Maybe you’re still bummed that you guys broke up and you ended up with me. Like maybe you still miss her.” You admit. It’s silent for a moment as he takes it all in, you almost expect him to confirm your suspicions.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you feel like that.” He took a moment to think carefully about his next words “I know it must be hard to hear me talk about someone else like that, you can’t really escape my past relationships because of who I am. I honestly never thought of that. I love you, okay? Not anybody else. Obviously she and I had something, but it’s completely in the past and I don’t regret a thing because it led me to you, and I love you so much. You’re my fookin soulmate, I mean it. I’m not gonna let that slip out of your head ever again.” He said, punctuating it with a passionate kiss.

You expected the kiss to end rather quickly, but it didn’t. It kept going, building in intensity as you scooted closer to one another. 

“I love you.” You whisper, breaking the kiss momentarily

“I love you so much, pretty girl” He responds, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

“Hmm, show me.” You whisper, pulling him closer. His hand slides down your side and onto your thigh as your lips meet again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling away lightly before indulging in the kiss once again.

Dom’s hands didn’t stay in one place for long, moving about your body as you made out, pausing his actions for a moment to take your shirt off, placing a kiss to each of your breasts before moving his lips up to your neck, leaving little marks for you to find in the morning. A chill ran down your back as he bit down on your ear, his hands massaging your breasts before reaching behind you and unbuckling your bra, throwing it off to the side and shifting his attention to your nipple. Taking it into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat against it as you lie down to give him a better angle.

His tongue flicking against your nipple while his hand plays with your other nipple. He swapped between which he used his mouth on and which he used his hand, making sure to give them both equal attention,  your hands tangling themself into his hair while he did so. When he was satisfied he pulled away, causing you to let out a small whimper as you felt his lips leave you, making their way down your stomach in a series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

When he made it to your underwear he licked a single stripe, taking his his sweet, sweet time. First, kissing his way up one thigh, then back down and ghosting his lips over the area you needed him both, taking a moment to inhale your scent before kissing his way back up the other leg, and right back down. 

“Please.” You whine

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He hushed, pulling your panties down your legs and glancing up at you as he did so, mimicking your pout before placing a chaste kiss on your clit. You leant your head back, closing your eyes as you waited patiently for him to begin. 

He started off slowly, licking up your slit as he took his time with you. Dom loved to use his tongue anytime he could, you loved it too. When he ate you out, it wasn’t just tongue, he made sure to pay attention to your clit and use his fingers when needed but on nights like tonight, where he really wanted to drive you crazy, he made sure to use a lot of tongue.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs as he lost himself in you, holding you like if he didn’t you would take his meal away. You tried your best to suppress the moans he was pulling out of you, knowing Adam and Tom were just rooms away. The way he was working you left you wishing you had come to him with this sooner. Your hips came up to meet his actions, your hand placed firmly on the back of his head, pushing him as far into you as he could go, eager to meet your release. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride daddy’s face. Let daddy show you how much you mean to him.” He hums, taking a moment to catch his breath. You do as you’re told, the request putting you in anything but a bratty mood. You let out a small moan as he continues his actions, your hips setting the pace.

Once again, it started off slow, until you began to work yourself up. Your hand reached down, tangling itself in his hair once again, tugging as you tried to push yourself further down, your hips speeding up while you bite your tongue to keep down the moans that clawed their way up your throat.

You could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, squeaking out to Dom that you were gonna cum before releasing on his tongue. He let you remain there for a minute, riding out your high while he massaged and kissed your thighs. When you had fully come down you move yourself off his face, making your way down to his bulge where you began to unbutton his pants. His hand quickly came down to stop you.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you.”

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You say, giving him a small pout. He stops to think for a moment before taking off his pants pulling you over him, giving himself a few painfully slow strokes before slipping himself inside of you. Your hips rocked carefully against him, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands continued to massage your hips as you found your pace, finding it harder and harder to remain silent.

“You’re so beautiful, pretty girl. Daddy loves to watch you bounce on his cock.” Dom growls, his hips coming up to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, you give up on holding back your moans at this point as it’s already very obvious to anyone in the house what's happening upstairs. 

The bed was creaking, your skin  slapping together as he thrust into you, unable to cease the  loud moans falling past your lips. Your legs began to shake as you approached your second release. Dom pulls you close, holding you, the gentle gesture in sharp contrast with the way he’s pounding away at you.

“Please can I cum.” You whimper

“One moment,” he interrupted himself with a groan “I wanna cum with ya, love.”

You held on as best you could, melting into his grasp as he worked towards finishing himself off. Soon after he growled a barely audible “Cum.” signifying his release. You moaned against each other, Dom pulling you closer as close wasn’t close enough. He maintained his actions, riding through your orgasm with one hand in your hair and the other lovingly stroking your thigh.

“Daddy’s got you babygirl.” He whispers into your ear, hushing you as you come down from your high.

When you finally felt well enough to sit up, your muscles hurt from the strain so you and Dom decided to have a bath.

He got up to run the bath water just the way you liked it and insisted on carrying you there, because ‘You’re hurtin’ so you can’t walk.’

You didn’t mind, though, laying your head on his shoulder as he carried you princess style into the bathroom. Luckily, the boys were in their rooms with the doors closed, presumably to suppress some of the noise.

The warm watered soothed your aching as you sat with Dom behind you, his wet hands stroking your arms with his head buried in your neck while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

After that night, you didn’t think you’d ever question your relationship with Dom again.

[aleksadnezz]

Sweet Night 5

Jae x Reader

“I’m sorry.” I said while still damping the tissue on his wet hoodie.

“It’s okay. What were you saying again?” He took the tissue from me and he do it on his own.

“Oh I was just gonna ask if you are?” I raised my lanyard to show the keychain to him. His small eyes widen when he saw it.

“How did you now?” He asked. So it’s true??? OMG!!!! My lips formed a big smile. I can’t believe, I’m going to tell it to Ara she would be excited.

“I saw your stuff animals’ collection.” I said cheerfully and pointed his shelves.

He looked at It and returned his eyes on me. He still looked confused so I tried to explain what I mean.

“I actually have a friend, she gave me this and she told me it’s a merch from a kpop group, you have the same so I assumed that you are..” He looked at me waiting me to continue speaking. I can clearly see the nervousness from his eyes. He might think that I’ll tell to other people what I know.

“You are a fan too.”

“Please don’t tell it to other people-“

We spoke at the same time but I heard what he said. He softly laughed and scratched the back of his nape.

“Yeah.. that’s right.. I’m a fan too.” He shyly said.

“Don’t worry I won’t say it.” I said, now I’m hesitating if I’m gonna share this to Ara. I bet she would be happy if I told her that I have a fanboy friend. It’s still weird for me to have a neighbor that is my friend too because I’m not that friendly. What in a bigbang theory is this, except that we’re both introverts and he don’t have a Sheldon.

“Uh have you seen or heard anything about that group?” He suddenly asked. I shook my head.

“Nah. I only know that they’re one of the kpop groups.” I said. I heard him laughed so I looked at him. “Why?”did I said something wrong?

“Nothing. I think they’re more of a kband than a kpop but that’s okay.” He explained. I know nothing about any of that but I like bands for sure I would like them. I almost forgot about the group that Ara said to me earlier, I’ll try to listen to them maybe I would like them too, the thing is I forgot their group name, I’ll just ask Jae if he knows it.

“By the way you know a kpop group that has kids in their name?”

“Stray Kids?”

“Yeah! that’s right, Stray Kids.”

“You like them?”

“Not really I’ll just start listening to them actually.” He nodded. “My friend will bring me to their concert so..”

“Really? That’s awesome.”

“You can come too. I will tell to my friend.” I suggest. Since he’s a fan too might as well invite him to their concert. “Have you attended a concert before? Because I haven’t” I laughed.

“Yeah I’ve been into some concerts, I perform there.” He said the last words under his breath so I didn’t hear it clearly.

“Ha?” I asked but he only shook his head and smiled at me.

“I’ll try to join you with your friend in the concert.”

“Cool!! I’d let you know..” I said. I wonder if he has other socials, but I still don’t know how his name spelled so it’s hard to find him. “Anyway, I think my job here is done so I’m now gonna head out. I have to feed the cat.”

We walked over his opened door. Before I turn and bid him goodbye he spoke.

“How’s Minnie by the way. I haven’t seen her.” He said. Of course you haven’t, you didn’t leave your room for a week.

“She eats a lot and whines a lot. So if you heard her in the middle of the night please don’t knock on my door.” He let out a smiley laugh where I can see his pearly white teeth and the disappearance of his eyes.

“It’s a cute cat. I won’t get mad.” He assures.

“I’ll keep that in my mind.” I raised my finger and pointed my head. I glance at his stretched lips, and that smile. what? I didn’t say that.

Today is Friday and I got off from work extra early. When this happens usually Ara and I would go to mall to window shop or I just accompany her but today she told me that she has something to go to. Also, I didn’t tell Ara about Jae yet, maybe soon if he agrees to come with us to the concert.

I went straight home after my shift so I can go to market. Minnie is running out of cat food supply and I’m running out of food too. I also want to have a chill night where I’d lay on my bed while I watch sum movies. I quickly changed my polo into a shirt and sweats. I wore the glasses that I only wear when I use my computer or phone. I went in front of my mirror to check myself. I stared at my reflection for a long time trying to examine what seems weird. Was it my face? I don’t have dirt on my face and I don’t look tired either. It’s the clothes. I look like Jae. Sweats and glasses, I look comfy as heck.

I don’t want to spend time just to change so I’ll just ignore that I accidentally dressed up as my neighbor, as if that I would bump into him today, I barely see that guy. I carry my tote bag with my phone and wallet in it, and I wore my slides. I left my apartment and locked it.

“You’re going out too?”

I jolted when I heard a voice. Speaking of my neighbor, in fact I don’t even have to turn around just to know who it is. Still, I turned around to face him.

“Yeah, just grocery and you?” Thank g he’s wearing a black hoodie while mine’s gray.

“I need to pick up something.” He said while he’s locking his door.

“Where do you grocery shop?” He asked. I waited him so we can walk together.

“Emart.”

“My way is also there; do you want a ride? I already booked a grab.” He showed me his phone with the said grab. I mean free ride? Of course I do.

“Sure.” The lift opens so we enter. From 15 floor going to ground floor is a long ride so I made myself busy by observing every single thing that I see here inside the lift. When we entered there are already sum people inside, 2 guys and a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. Not that I’m judging them, but from what I can see, what they’re doing considered PDA already. Hugging, laughing and teasing like there’s no tomorrow.

I don’t know if those guys are annoyed too and just trying to ignore them or maybe it’s just only me. I glanced to Jae to see what he’s doing, looks like he’s not bothered at all. His left hand slipped inside the pocket of his pants; other hand is on his phone.

Another person entered the lift. I moved backwards so she can have space. The couple moves backwards too so they’re now standing beside me, I can even feel her bag nudging my arm but I tried to ignore it. Within a hot minute her arm hit my side causing me to bumped Jae. I looked at the couple as calm as I can possibly can.

“I’m sorry miss.” “sorry miss.” They both said in union.

“It’s okay.” I said calmy and showed my nicest smile. I want my afternoon to be chill and stress free plus I may see them again I want to protect my pure reputation as a good neighbor. Suddenly I felt a hand on my elbow that slowly pulled me closer to him. I felt an electric shock that send shivers all over my body. I stood frozen next to him because of how close we are. I can even smell his perfume, it’s like a mixture of fresh fruity and baby powder. I wonder where he bought it.

He let go of my arm when we reached the ground floor. We walked towards the entrance of the building but I stayed walking behind him. He looked back at me and stopped walking so I can catch up with him. When we got out the building, we can see that there’s a car already waiting. Jae made me get on first and I thought that he would sit beside the driver but he sat next to me.

It’s rush hour already and we we’re caught by traffic. I stared outside the car window like I always do when I commute. There’s time where I’m channeling my main character vibes when I look outside the window. None of us is taking and the sound from the cardio radio playing sum R&B soul songs was the only noise. Jae was busy scrolling through his phone, though I don’t want to bother him but I feel like I should speak.

“So where are you heading to?” I blurted out. I tried not to look at him directly so I stared at the driver’s seat.

“Somewhere near the TBD Company”

“Isn’t that where most celebrity’s hangout or sumthin?” I’ve never been into that area and I know that, that place is one of the richest districts.

“Well not all because I go there all the time.” He said before he turned off his phone and looked at me.

“Have you ever bumped to a celebrity?” I asked. For sure he had at least once, especially when he said that he have been there a lot.

“Just some of them. I’ve always seen Mark Tuan in a coffee shop that I go to, you know him?” Is he kidding? I think he’s the only famous person that I could remember that Ara ever told me. She showed me a video clip of him dancing and I think I forgot to breathe for a sec, plus he got the cutest smile. I must admit that prolly have a thing for people’s smile.

“You mean the very good-looking guy?” I said in awe and he laughed at my reaction. Well, I only said what know is true.

“Yeah, that very good-looking guy.” He said casually as if that he knows him but he’s still laughing. Wait if he seen some celeb then he might have seen his Kpop Idols.

“How about your favorite Kband? Day6?” I’m honestly just guessing, but I believe most of the company’s are located there so assume that they work there. Instead of answering me he let out a fake cough.

I immediately understood what he’s trying to say so I leaned to him and whispered. “Okay I won’t mention in public that you’re a Kpop fan.”I assure him. I find it funny that he’s getting conscious and shy about other people knowing that he’s a fanboy.

“No actually.. yeah alright, I’ll just take that.” Yeah, whatever Jae. I looked outside and saw that we’re almost near the market, I turned to Jae and poked him.

“You can drop me off here.” He nodded.

“Mr. can you pull over to the next street.” Jae said.

“Thank you for the ride Jae.”

“No worries, what time you will be done?”

“I don’t know I may take a while.” I may take a while since I don’t have a grocery list so I’ll prolly have to go to every aisle to remember all the stuff that I needed, a life hack that I learned when I started living on my own.

The driver pulled the car off the road. I turned to Jae before I opened the door.

“Thank you again.” I said and he smiled. I opened the door and got off the car. I waited for them to leave before I enter the market.

1 2 3 4 5

[1994sunflower]

Being stuck with Michael because of the storm but we had a fight

i pushed this request up on my list just because all the snow emergencies, especially in states like Texas are so devastating so i wanted to get something cute and short out to kind of take your minds away.

in which you get snowed in during a fight

The silence was deafening. Even the streets below, which you could usually always hear filled with college students out on their lawns, partying, from outside of your apartment window, were desolate. 

It was to be expected with the multiple feet of snow covering everything from lawns to the streets themselves. Whatever snow plowing could be done had been minimal, not prepared for such a big amount, so it was too dangerous to even try to go out and drive somewhere. But somehow, the fact that the silence was even in your own home was at once frustrating and heartbreaking. 

The heating in your apartment didn’t do away with the bite of the cold entirely. You were still shivering, even when covered head to toe with your blanket in your bedroom. Any other time, it would be simple. Just cuddle with Michael. He always brought warmth to you, if not for the sheer fact of having another, bigger, body to yours then for the warmth in your heart at having your boyfriend so close. 

But yet, even when it was so obvious, it should have been simple. You were still laying alone on your bed with the door locked while he was in your living room. Neither of you having spoken in what seemed like hours, interrupted only by frustrated comments at one another. 

Any other time, maybe you would have stayed away from each other for a while. Just to let you cool your heads and get past whatever it was that happened. But this time, Michael was forced to stay put in your house. Not having any other choice because of the snow. It was too dangerous outside, to drive or to be outside for too long without the proper equipment. Which he did not have because he hadn’t planned to leave your home for a while. It never occurred to him, or you, that anything would happen that would make him want to leave earlier, especially when, if he had the chance, he’d usually never want to leave your side.

Instead, you were forced to be under the same roof and dwelling in the anger and silence swirling between you, making it impossible for it to subside. You only spoke when necessary, when you had to feed him or when he gave you updates on the snow emergency. Even then, your tones were anything but forgiving to each other. It was awkward at best and each time you glanced at him, you felt a wave of anger at how stubborn he was being and by his clipped comments and answers to your biting or cold questions, he felt it too.

“I made food. Get some if you want.”

“Later.”

“Then make your own food next time.”

“Don’t ask if you don’t want me to answer however I want.”

“I just didn’t want you to be a jerk but I guess that’s too much to ask for.”

Neither of you had even seemed close to apologizing to each other. In fact, he had made it a point to barely look at you, which hurt maybe a little more than he expected it to. Which is why, it was better for him to be out of your sight. You left for your room and felt a bite of disappointment when he did nothing to stop you. 

It was a stupid fight. You thought he was being difficult and he thought you were being unreasonable. And now, desperately lonely and missing his presence with you, you could maybe see neither of you had been wrong. 

You hadn’t really realized how bad everything was outside. How, quite literally, you couldn’t go outside because of the snow. So when you asked Michael if he could, or both of you could, go get more groceries since you saw how the snow emergency wasn’t going to subside any time soon, his answer bothered you more than you’d like to admit. 

It wasn’t just him denying you, it was the way he did it so bluntly and without any explanation, as if you were crazy for just asking. Especially when he reminded you so rudely, in your eyes, that you didn’t need a restock. Which, he may have had a point. But just because he wasn’t overly cautious with his things and planning for the upcoming week, didn’t mean you weren’t. 

Your response maybe held more bite than either of you were expecting and you saw the way his jaw tightened. He was mad. Obviously not to the point he would get mad at others, he would never be that way with you. But still, it wasn’t the passiveness he held with you that usually would let you get away with most everything. And his resolve to stick with hat anger made you want to scream.

Especially then when you curled up deeper into your blanket, looking at the phone in your hand blankly when really all you wanted to do was go to the living room and curl up in your boyfriend’s lap. You missed him, you wanted the warmth and protection he provided, especially in a winter storm that seemed to bring out isolation and uncertainty. You hated feeling his anger towards you, were so used to feeling nothing but love. Anything else felt wrong.

You gnawed at your lip. You wished you could just apologize and pretend nothing happened. Because in a time where you were forced to spend your time together, no way to leave each other’s presence, with only each other, it wasn’t fair that you were angry and weren’t having a good time.

But you couldn’t apologize now. It’s been too long and by the cold way Michael was treating you, which you weren’t used to, you weren’t exactly sure how he would take it. If he would apologize back or if he would keep being angry like he was so used to being. He could hold a grudge, you knew, you’d seen it.

But that was toward everyone else. You were different, always his exception. You should have learned that by now.

Maybe if you had, you would have expected the soft opening and closing of your bedroom door. Maybe even have noticed it instead of being too buried in your blanket, shivering underneath, and missed it. 

You didn’t miss the sagging of your bed as a weight was placed on it. But you didn’t turn around. It had to be Michael and feeling him so close finally, knowing he came to you, made you yearn for him in hope that you would be forgiven. That you could finally enjoy your time together, even if you guys had no way of doing anything else but being in your apartment for who knew how long. That you wouldn’t be cold and lonely anymore. 

But you were sheepish, after everything and a little prideful, still hurt at how he talked to you and froze you out hours before, to want to make the first move. Even if the urge to throw your arms around him physically hurt to resist. Honestly, your resolve was thin and breaking fast. Who cared about pride when you knew you had been equally rude right back to him. You wanted to apologize, you knew neither of you had been in the right. 

And you felt the words right at the tip of your tongue, were already moving your blanket to turn around and finally face your silent boyfriend, probably equally conflicted as you were (perhaps more with how much he was unused to apologizing). But his voice beat you to the punch.

“Are you cold?” His voice was softer than you would have expected, especially after how harsh his tone had been previously.

You turned around quickly, coming face to face with him sitting beside you. His gaze was on the bed, however. It was awkward but after everything, the fact that he was trying meant a lot. Even when both of you knew that you weren’t an angel in this either.

Nodding slowly, you watched as he laid down. Lifting the blanket from your body, he slipped under it himself. Holding the other side up for you to move closer to him. Which you complied with, silently. You moved until your head was on his chest and his arm was around you, keeping you there. You could hear his heart beat. 

Just like you expected, in his arms and under the blanket, you couldn’t feel the cold you had been battling all day. The snow still falling through your window, the empty streets and dangerous ice on the ground were forgotten. You felt like you were in a cozy bubble. You were grateful and finally felt comfortable. Oh, how you wished that’s how it had been all day. Instead of the tense iceberg it had been.

Both of you were in silence, too in your heads to say anything. You wished you could just blurt out the apology already at your lips. But too senselessly embarrassed to do so. How could you say anything after all you had already said throughout the day, how you had acted?

But you didn’t have to. You heard his voice. “I’m…I didn’t mean to talk to you like that. I’m sorry.”

Relief flooded you. He wasn’t mad at you anymore. “I’m sorry too.” 

You reached out, touching his arm. It somehow made you feel better that he was just as cold to the touch as you were. Neither of you could find the warmth you needed without each other. Who knew how much time he spent stewing on the couch, just as miserable, cold and lonely as you were. “I shouldn’t have expected you to go out in the middle of a snow storm. It was stupid, I…you were right. I shouldn’t have said everything I did either.”

He paused for a second before pulling you closer, breathing in your scent. “Missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it. You barely looked twice at me.” Your voice sounded a lot more tearful than you wanted it to sound but what was the point in hiding your hurt. You could have been nicer but he treated you like little less than a nuisance. 

“I don’t know how to act when I’m frustrated. I’m used to…letting out my anger with others.” He admitted. Maybe things would have turned out differently if he actually used his words to speak out what he was thinking, smoothed everything out. But instead, he let them go on silently in his mind. Leaving you feeling rejected and unwanted. Until it was too late and he was denied even your presence as you moved yourself to your room, making sure the door separated the both of you. “But I did. Miss you. Even if I looked like I wasn’t paying attention to you.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Sitting alone on the couch, feeling like an idiot.” His eyes were closed as if he was savoring the moment he was having with you right then after a day full of torture. 

“I hate being mad at you.” You played with the hem of his sleeve. “And it was so cold.”

You didn’t need to tell him. He was well aware of it every time he felt the innate urge to take you up in his arms. Even after how biting he had been towards you because he could never really be mad at you for long and if he seemed like he could, it was merely habit. But yet, you weren’t there. You were in your dark room to get away from him. And he felt stupid for forcing you away and depriving himself of the time alone with you he loved so deeply. Especially when the alternative was so lonely. 

“We couldn’t even enjoy the snow day together.” You pouted.

“The snow doesn’t look like it’s letting up any time soon.” He pulled the blanket further up, only resulting in covering you entirely underneath which you giggled at. He couldn’t hold back the smile at your playfulness. He missed that noise all day. “We’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

[costellos]

author’s note: this wasn’t a request, just something super self-indulgent that I wanted to do! ❤⃛(*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ) also this ended up taking 2.5 hours to write aldkf;j so much for unwinding at the end of the day. overall, I’m super proud of how this came out — please enjoy!

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang realizing that they’re in love!

bruno bucciarati.

Bucciarati realizes he’s in love when he sees you defending civilians.

he is a man made of love. for his people, for his community, for his goals — he firmly believes that everyone and everything can be built on yes, but more importantly, taken care of.

he sees you protecting an elderly couple during a stand battle. in a split second do you throw your stand at the couple, taking a hefty amount of damage in their place. you’re bloody and your arm is definitely broken, but you still turn to them. "you need to leave. now,” you say. although your words are harsh and hoarse, your smile reminds them that yes, everything will be fine, I just need you to trust me.

you didn’t have to protect them. any other gangster would have left them to die. they’re old, no one would miss them.

but you did. you put these two strangers, two no ones at the wrong place at the wrong time, before yourself. even if it meant you’d die.

Bucciarati would visit you shortly after the battle. Giorno had already tended to your wounds, evident by your lack of bandages. his hair is normally neatly placed, but it looks like he had been rustling it, with his clips out of place and the braid atop his head uneven. his concern is apparent; he’s wracked his brain waiting for your recovery. you knew that Bucciarati cared about his team, but when did he care this much? ↳ “I admit, your actions were certainly reckless,” he would say to you, taking a seat beside your bed. “you’re lucky that fight didn’t end worse than it did. nonetheless...” his voice is tired yet soft, comforting. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m... I’m incredibly glad.”

leone abbacchio.

Abbacchio realizes he’s in love when he sees you upholding true justice.

although he would never admit it, he is haunted by his inability to save his partner during his time as an officer. as such, Abbacchio envies those who back justice in spite of the system Italy lives under.

you’re patrolling one of La Passione’s turfs with him when you see it: two officers harassing a young girl. even though Abbacchio tells you not to get involved, you quickly storm over to the scene. their voices are loud and clear, despite them being several meters away. the girl looks scared.

it turns out she had stolen a handful of painkillers from the corner store. the cops noticed her scurrying out as they were buying a pack of smokes. and now, they were threatening to take her into the station. “I need them for my family!” she explains, but the cops don’t buy it. they huff something about her bringing them to school and selling them to her friends.

“here. I’ll pay for her. just leave her alone.” Abbacchio watches as you flash 30 euros to the cops, more than enough to pay for the medicine. playing them at their own game, he sees. thankfully, they relent, pocketing the money and leaving the scene. and after you talk to the girl, explaining that if she needs more help to come find you, you both leave the scene too.

it’s a brief affair. truthfully, he wouldn’t have gotten himself involved. he wishes you hadn’t either. it would’ve been less of a headache, and now that girl is going to pester you again in the future. but he can’t stop replaying the scene in this head. how you willingly stood up for her, reassured her that everything would be okay. how you smiled and looked so content after the fact. ↳ “ I envy you,” he would say as you walked away from the scene. “doing the right thing is...” he pauses. stupid? naive? “...it’s not easy. you didn’t have to do anything but I admire your valor. just don’t be surprised if that girl comes up at your doorstep begging for more money.” nonetheless, he wants to learn more from you. to be good again, he thinks. maybe then he can be someone that he himself is proud of. and maybe, eventually, he’ll make you proud too.

giorno giovanna.

Giorno realizes he’s in love when he sees your ambition.

he prides himself on his resolve. to him, resolve is committing to something regardless of the difficulties that a person faces. seeing you be so goal-oriented would make him believe that he’s found his match.

it doesn’t have to be a huge goal, like dedicating yourself to a field of practice or learning a new language. it can be as simple as trying to keep your houseplants alive. in fact, those little things come off as more charming to him. it shows that you’re passionate about everything you do, no matter what it is.

seeing you continuously try despite numerous failures would make Giorno’s heart pound. you refuse to give up. even with everything against you, you still roll up your sleeves, take a deep breath, and pick yourself up again. he adores this about you.

he realizes it when you’re rambling about your next move in your goals. your face is so excited, your eyes so wide and bright. your mouth is voicing your steps a million words a minute but all he can focus on is how beautiful you look. the smile on his lips is unmistakable. ↳ “tell me more. I want to know everything. tell me about every detail, every step, what you’ll do when you’re finished... all of it.” he won’t say it — after all, he doesn’t want to come off as too desperate — but he wants to be there every step of the way with you. and when you’ve completed your goal, he wants to be the one next to you, the one to say, “I am so, so proud of you.”

guido mista.

Mista realizes he’s in love when you laugh at one of his jokes.

life should be simple. that’s the mantra he lives by. despite being a gangster, he just wants to have a simple life filled with simple pleasures. one of those ways is through telling stories.

it happens when the group is eating dinner at a local restaurant. Mista is telling some long-winded anecdote, something about how he heroically beat up a landlord for harassing his tenants over money. at the end, it turned out to be the set up for a really brief and really stupid punchline.

everyone is looking at him. “ah? ahhhh?” he muses, but no one responds. the silence in the air is unbearable. hm. wow. is it hot in here or what? finally, Narancia breaks the silence, muttering that he doesn’t get it. Fugo tells him that Mista could have made the joke so much shorter. Bucciarti exhales quickly from his nostrils, a half-assed attempt at laughing. Giorno and Abbacchio don’t say anything.

but then you. oh, you. it takes you a moment to get it, but when you do, your giggling disrupts the awkwardness. it sounds like bells, Mista thinks. sweet bells, ringing like how they used to at the church every Sunday morning in his hometown. it makes him feel warm, welcome, and he can’t help but feel his face flush when he hears your laughing.

Mista stays in place afterwards, pushing his white beans to and fro on his plate. he’s not hungry anymore. he keeps looking up at you, and while he had acknowledged you were attractive before, something about you was now beautiful. you were happy here, with your eyes bright and your smile wide. eventually, he would say: ↳ “hey, thanks for covering me back there. those guys never laugh at anything I say.” he rolls his eyes playfully, adding a slight shrug of his shoulders. “lemme make it up to you. what can I do for you?” he’s trying to be smooth, but he’s so giddy at the prospect at spending more time with you!

narancia ghirga.

Narancia realizes he’s in love when you don’t lose your patience with him.

he doesn’t have much of a formal education. hence, critical thinking skills don’t come easy to him. he tries his best, he really does, but it’s difficult when he’s hardly flexed his brain.

he’s writing a song. nothing fancy, but music has always been a part of Narancia’s life that he wants to give it a go himself. maybe one day he’ll be a famous hip hop artist, touring across Europe and maybe even the U.S. one day! the thought makes him excited. but for now, he needs to establish the lyrics.

rap is easier said than done, though. Fugo is teasing him about his inability to write poetry — what makes Narancia think that he could write a whole song? he grits his teeth and turns back to his paper. 

that’s when you approach him. you sit down with him, asking him what he would like to write about. “oh, uh... growing up in the streets, I guess,” he mumbles. he’s taken aback by your help. plus, talking about it now makes him embarrassed. but you don’t judge him, no; you sit down with him and try to help him nail down the theme. and once you have that, you assist him in finding snappy lyrics and catchy rhymes. 

you don’t criticize him for his ideas. you don’t yell at him for his suggestions. you just listen and add on. the encounter is foreign, to say the least... but not unwelcome. Narancia finds your help incredibly productive (much better than Fugo could ever offer him). and the time goes by so fast! within a few hours, his song is done. yet he’s not happy... no, he starts to feel lonely the moment you stand up, off to assist Bucciarati with whatever he needs. ↳ “wait, hold on, [Name]!” shit. his voice is way too desperate. he softens it as best he can muster: “can... can we write another song sometime? I have a lot more ideas and I can’t do it without you.” fuck. he did it again. but when smile at him and nod, promising that you’ll help him hit the Top 40, Narancia can’t help but smile back.  

panacotta fugo.

Fugo realizes that he’s in love when you put him before yourself.

genius. prodigy. failure. Fugo is defined by how others see him. after his parents abandoned him for leaving an abusive establishment, he finds himself lost in the world. who is he? what is he worth?

he’s escorting you to your mission when his car is attacked by a rival gang. the assault is a blur. he can remember the car flipping over, tumbling off the road and into the Mediterranean Sea. it happens so fast. the salty water surrounding you both. the windshield cracking. the airbag goes off, suffocating him. he can’t see. he can’t breathe. and suddenly, it’s dark.

when he wakes up, he realizes that you’re both on the beach. “where are we?” he musters out. it hurts to talk. you hush him to take it easy, that he had most certainly broken a few ribs. and that’s when he sees it: when he looks down, his wounds are tended to. gashes have been tenderly wrapped in gauze and minor cuts treated with balm. a pain relief patch has been placed on his chest, no doubt where the air bag hit him. but when he looks at you, you’re bleeding through your bandages.

that’s right. there was a first aid kit in the car. based on his injuries, you spent the majority of supplies on him, even though you definitely had it just as bad. “why?” is all he can say.

why? you shake your head. “because you’re my friend,” you answer, adjusting the gauze on his wrist. “I’m taking care of you because you’re worth it.”

your words catch him by surprise. he doesn’t believe it, but... your face is honest enough. his thoughts are jumbled, as mixed as the sand and water at the shore just a few meters away. and when your hand touches his wrist... he shakes his own head.

↳ “you should’ve tended to yourself first.” his tongue tastes of nothing but blood and salt and his words show it. a beat, and gentler this time: “I appreciate your thinking of me. thank you.” that’s all he can say, at least for now. it hurts to much to talk, moreover think. so he places his hand over yours as a gesture of thanks. friends, huh? the idea before sounded laughable, but now... there was something warm about it. the answer to his question — who is he? — had come as quickly as the waves beneath him: a friend.