#i’ve looped red signal so many times while making this

[mushroomribcage]

This is how I imagine red signal going for Lyf

[whythinktoomuch]

i. apocalypse now & then

Kara touched down, her boots meeting the earth with a metallic clunk that was promptly swallowed up in the dust and utter grayness of her surroundings. The warnings came immediately—insistent beeps, bright red numbers and figures flashing before her eyes.

“How’s it looking?” asked the tinny voice in her helmet, and Kara sighed.

“Yeah, you were right. Place is infested,” she said, studying the mess of debris and desolation that seemed to feed directly into the faint horizon in every direction. “Kryptonite readings are off the charts. There’s either a tower nearby, or mines just planted all over. Maybe even both, if i’m Iucky.”

Alex let out a harsh breath. “Look, I know you’re not going to leave until you find those people, but you better watch your fucking back out there, okay?”

“Hm… don’t I always though?”

“You ask that every single time, and every single goddamn time, I have to re-mind you of all—”

“All right, all right…” Kara said, rolling her eyes. “Just stop worrying so loudly already, jeez. I’ll keep you posted the entire time.”

“Like that was ever an option.”

“Love you too,” Kara said breezily, and she began her search.

She explored the area in proportioned sections, slipping periodically into x-ray vision, keeping her feet drifting an inch off the ground at all times. You just never knew these days. By now, Kara had stepped on enough lead-wrapped kryptonite mines for one lifetime, which coincidentally had been the same number of times it took to gray almost the entirety of Alex’s head. Or so Alex claimed anyway.

Apparently, over two decades of this sort of living could do that to a person: make them older, but also, steal away every last bit of their sense of humor. 

--

Whenever Kara happened upon a particularly extensive blind spot—jagged slabs of lead piled on top of each other—she took her time. Carefully sifted her way through all that rubble, with a spare bit of rebar or her heat vision from a safe distance. Calling out to any potential survivors that could have been trapped underneath. But as she steadily neared hour two of her search, it was starting to look like a lost cause. That whoever had sent that distress signal must have since succumbed to the environment, like so many others already had done before them.

Then Kara heard it.

Whipping her head around, Kara strained her ears to their very limit, all the while silently cursing how muffled everything sounded in this godforsaken suit of hers. It took a minute or so to hone in on it, but she finally made out the distant voice.

Help us. Save us. We’re down here.

Kara snapped into action, already hurtling full-speed toward the source of the cry. “Alex, I found them.”

“About fuckin’ time,” Alex said, but the note of relief carried through the speakers loud and clear. It always did, of course, given the scarcity of such a feeling as of late. “All right, get them out of there, and hurry your ass up. You’ve already been out there for too long.”

The voice grew louder and more distinct as Kara approached it, and eventually, she could even distinguish other people in the mix—their whispers, the muted beats of their heart seemingly punctuating every word, and all the shallow breaths of air in between. She counted at least five separate individuals, five more lives that she could potentially save from this impossible landscape.

But by the time Kara reached the point where the voice was sounding from below rather than from the distance, her excitement had all but waned, receded back into the ever present anxiety hanging in the air.

“… Fuck,” she huffed out, staring at the large swathe of broken rock and dirt and twisted metal beneath her, the letter K spray-painted all over the surface in a faded green. “Alex. They’re in a mine-rigged shelter.”

“Forget it then. Just get out of there,” Alex said, all rather predictably. “We can send an extraction team with defusers in the morning.”

“But that’ll take too long,” Kara protested. “It would take days, just for a task force to cover all that distance, and these people need help now.”

“No. I want you to put down a marker and come right the fuck back home,” Alex said. “That’s your last kryptonite filtration suit! If anything happens, if you sustain even the slightest bit of damage out there, you could—”

Kara cut the feed and swiftly locked her comms from all available channels, employing one of the few tips Winn had passed onto her before he died. Because Alex didn’t understand. How could she, when she wasn’t the one who had to listen to these desperate cries for help from people just barely out of reach.

She floated outside the presumed blast radius, planted her feet firmly to the ground, and went to work. Uncovering the buried shelter bit by bit, one sizable mass of charred rubble dug up after the other. It wasn’t easy. The kryptonite in the area, though not exposed, was much too close for comfort even through her suit. And it made the sun hotter, everything heavier, and Kara’s progress as slow as it could possibly be.

But all that—the sweat gathering on her brow, the soreness burning up her lower back—was a very small price to pay when weighed against the lives of at least five people in need. So, Kara kept going. She kept burrowing deeper into the earth with her bare hands, until the sun was but a small twinkle above her head and her fingertips were brushing against a patch of warmed metal.

And she could hear them better now. They were so close.

Kara pressed her palm against what had to be the outer wall of their shelter. “Hey, can you hear me in there?”

“Please help us!” came the frantic response, only somewhat muffled now. “Please get us out! We can’t breathe in here!”

“Okay! Okay… I’m gonna get you out, okay?” Kara shouted back, heart thumping hard in her ears. “Just… hang on.”

A quick once-over was all it took to determine that the wall before her—like most other surfaces nowadays—was naught but a few inches of commercial steel, coated in a thin layer of lead. And as such, all it would to take, of course, to break into such a structure was—THUNK!—a single punch from the Girl of Steel herself.

Kara ripped a hole in the wall, using her heat vision to melt down the edges as she tugged the entire thing apart. Eventually satisfied with her efforts, she was just about to crawl through her rather crude but functional doorway when the speakers in her helmet abruptly flipped back on.

“—him back to life, and just… throttle him for showing you that trick!” Alex was practically hollering in her ear. “Why would you ever need to do that anyway? The whole frickin’ point of the—”

“Whoa, Alex, Alex, it’s fine! I’m fine! Just shh!” Kara hastily cut her off. “I’ve pretty much got my foot in the door already, okay? So, I’m helping these people whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, you fucking better,” Alex said with a scoff. “I want to look these people in the eye while you explain to me what was so goddamn special about them that you had to…”  

And Kara barked out a laugh, shaking her head in wonder as Alex continued to chew her out in a way that only sisters could, apparently. “Hey, you can do whatever you want, okay? Just let me bring them home first.”

“Fine. Just don’t kill the comms this time.”

“Oh, I would never.”

“Kara, I fucking swear to—”

But the rest of all that swearing quickly faded into the backdrop, as Kara finally poked her head into what should have been just another underground refuge from everything their world now had to offer. Because ten feet below from where she had burrowed her way in, was not a handful of dehydrated people waiting to be rescued—only masses upon masses of thick coils and plates of smooth black metal shifting about.

That’s when Kara realized that it’d been quite some time since she’d heard a cry for help. And soon after that was when a muted click! sounded, then somewhere down there in the midst of all that darkness and mechanical movement, came another loop of voices calling out to her.

“Oh shit…” Kara whispered, and at least ten sets of glassy eyes flicked up to stare at her. The pre-recorded voices immediately cut out, and the entire room lit up in a vibrant green as the machines all powered up with a collective hum. “Shit, shit, shit, you were right!”

“Right about what?” Alex demanded, but Kara was too busy heeding her long overdue advice of getting the fuck out there to respond.

Kara burst from the ground in a flurry of dust and clattering scrap metal, already heading for the horizon at full-speed. She needed to put as much distance as possible between her and the decoy shelter. It was nothing short of an honest-to-Rao miracle that her sudden escape hadn’t tripped any of the mines on-site, but now, it was only a matter of time.

Still hurtling away, Kara threw a glance over her shoulder just in time to see the first three drones break through the surface, already mindlessly chasing after her. Then the third and the fourth crashed right on through after them, which abruptly led to a series of rapid beeping, which abruptly led to a violent disturbance in the air that stole away all the sound from the world and knocked Kara right out of the sky.

(next part here)

[ofinkandpaper]

An Unknown Possibility

Chapter One

Ghostface x Reader

I’ve been getting back into Dead by Daylight recently, as well as Slashers in general, and got a touch of inspiration to write this while looking through DBD imagines. This is pretty much Pre-Relationship.

Chapters: First / Previous / Next 

Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence

Word Count: 2085 words

You curse as the generator blows up in your face once again. Growling a few more curses under your breath, you go straight back to work, thankful for Spine Chill; the perk helping to signal when the killer - whoever it was - was looking in your direction. The ability had yet to trigger the hairs on the back of your neck to stand, so you felt relatively confident in continuing your work.

With the sound of running feet through the mud of the Red Forest, you take a moment to cast a glance and quick smile at Claudette as she came to help with the last leg of repairs.

"Any idea who it is?" You hazard the question just loud enough to be heard over the generator. She shook her head and took a glance around; both of your attentions being taken for a moment as a generator popped off somewhere across the forest.

"No idea. I haven't heard a--" You flinched as you heard Meg scream as she got downed. Your eyes widened as you looked at one another. A one-hit killer; that, coupled with no terror radius, left only two killers in your mind to guess between: Michael Myers or Ghostface. If you were being completely honest, you were hoping it was Ghostface since he - in your personal opinion - was less intimidating and frightening as Michael.

You both sped up as carefully as you could, trying to get the repairs finished before the fateful scream of your teammate going on the hook. No matter how many times any of you were put on it, it never dulled the pain.

The generator roared to life just as Meg's scream echoed through the trees. Claudette gave you a nod and ran off in the opposite direction, your only assumption to try and find Jake. You push off the gen and start carefully making your way towards Meg, thankful this was her first hook; it gave you a small handful of seconds to be careful getting to her- trying not to attract the Killer's attention. When you finally made it, you scanned all around you to make sure it was safe before dashing over to pull her down.

As her feet touched the ground, your hairs stood on end and your ears picked up the soft click of a camera. You shuddered and refused to turn around, muttering for Meg to run quickly and nudging her along, keeping behind her to make sure he didn't strike her down again, so soon after being freed from the hook.

Your lip curled slightly into a snarl as you heard him laugh before giving chase. After a little, you take a breath and spin on your heel, running right at him; fill his attention enough to let Meg slip away and escape the chase. He laughed and struck, a yell left you as you dashed away from him, your heart pounding in your ears as he followed. That small fact tugged a small smile on your face as you led him to a section of walls you could loop him around. At least this way you knew that your friend would be able to get to safety.

Your arm was clamped at your waist where he had sliced you right down the side as you ran circles with him. Your breaths came in huffs as you limped around, cheeks burning and sweat dripping. As you leapt over a window, you heard another click and dared to turn around. Ghostface was just… standing there, looking down at his camera. You frowned and decided to take the moment to heal up with Self-Care.

"Gotta say, you're a much better model than any of the others." You glance up at him just as he does the same, shaking his camera around a little before positioning it to take another photo. Click.

Surprisingly, he let you finish healing up as he leaned on the sill of the window, casually browsing through his photos. You raise a brow and glance to where another gen popped; you could only assume - or rather hoped - that by this point Meg had gotten healed up. You turned your head back over to Ghostface.

"What're you doing?" His mask turned up to you. It took a lot of self-control to not flinch, the terror radius still pounding in your head. You stood your ground, however, and looked directly into the mesh covering of the droopy eye holes that let the killer see his surroundings - his victims. When he responded, you could hear the smirk in his voice as he pushed off the sill and tucked his camera away, leisurely hopping over to join you on the other side. Your nerves went back on end, ready to bolt if he decided to stop playing nice.

“What, can’t a killer take a break from killing every once in a while?” He chuckled and leaned a shoulder on the wall closest to his left, “Besides, it's not every day I get to actually have a conversation with one of you little chickadees!” There was just something so cheesy about calling you and your fellow survivors that you just had to roll your eyes and give a small shake of the head. Another gen popped just a few meters from the two of you, and you grew nervous once more as he sighed and pushed off the wall.

“Guess I should go take care of your little friends, huh? So we can chat nice and privately.” You could only assume he winked at you before swiping at you, giving you barely any time to even think about ducking out of the way. A yell ripped out of your throat as you fell to the ground, the fresh gash across your stomach and chest searing. You couldn’t help but berate yourself as you watched him stalk away towards the nearest unfinished generator as there was no way they would still be hanging around the newly completed one. Your head fell to the ground with a soft thud as you began to recuperate, deciding whether or not you wanted to try and block out the impending screams of pain from your team.

"You really ran him good; I'm honestly surprised he left you here." You heard Meg's voice as she ran over to you, helping to get you back on your feet. You huffed a laugh and shook your head.

"No idea, but let's not wait to find out. How many gens are left?"

"Just one. I think Jake is running him now, and last I saw Claudette was working on a hex totem. Let's hope he wasn't running NOED." You shudder and nod, unpleasant memories flitting through your mind as you ushered her to follow, making your way to a thankfully close generator that had yet to be touched.

The boom of a Hex Totem being cleansed rang throughout the forest as you and Meg worked on the last Gen. There hadn't been any sounds of pain from Jake being struck, so you assumed he was still--

"Thought I told you to stay where you were." You yell as Ghostface's blade strikes into your side. You had been so focused on fixing the gen that you hadn't realized Spine Chill acting up.

You push away and make a break for it, hoping you'll be able to lure him away just enough so Meg could finish. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as he gave chase. Good. Your lips turn up in a smirk as you vault over a window, turning back to face him as you continue on, thankful for knowing the map like the back of your hand. In a way, you guess you should be thankful to The Entity for punting you onto this map enough times to make that statement true… but you would rather die for real than ever thank that clawed monstrosity of a deity.

Ghostface hopped over the window after you and continued the chase. With how little noise he usually made, and with that mask covering up what he really looked like, it was hard not to get curious as to what he was thinking in the middle of chases. Did he get frustrated? Angry? Or was it all a game to him, and he was smiling like a buffoon?

When the final gen popped - the same one you had led him away from - you smiled wide and winked before turning and sprinting as fast as you could away from him while he turned away for a split second, having just realized someone else had been on the gen with you when he came up on it.

Your lungs burned as you ran, hoping that you were going in the direction of one of the exit gates. You hadn’t really gotten a chance to glance around to see where they were earlier, but now it was a race against the clock - more so as a loud bell tolled and the ground erupted with glowing orange cracks. At least one of your team had been close enough to a gate to get it open while you were running the killer.

Taking a moment to pause and take in your surroundings, you do a full circle before spotting the barely visible outline of a gate amongst the trees further ahead. With a smile, you head that direction, a new hope drilling into your chest that your team was keeping him occupied at the other gate so that it gave you enough time to open this one.

You grunt as you pull the lever down and do a quick look around. Spine Chill remained inactive and you couldn’t see anyone nearby. The buzz that emitted from the lever as it was halfway through powering up gave your nerves a jolt and gave you cause to look around once more. You could feel the sweat on your palm making the lever slick and your hand slowly sliding off it even with how tight you were holding onto it. It wasn’t until the door buzzed one last time and began to open did Spine Chill activate. You released the lever and made a mad dash inside the gate, pausing just before the exit proper and turning around to face Ghostface, your chest heaving and face burning from exertion and adrenaline.

A low laugh came from him as his posture relaxed, hands going to settle on his hips as he looked towards you. It was a gut feeling, but you just knew the rest of your team already made it out. You hold your hands out, elbows against your sides.

“It's just you and me now, what did you wanna talk about?” He hummed softly and slowly walked towards you, twirling his knife in his fingers as he did so. You kept a piece of your guard up, ready to bolt in case he had NOED and wanted to make you the last possible sacrifice.

“Close your eyes and I’ll tell you.”

You frown, but take a breath and close your eyes, brows still furrowed. You heard the shifting of fabric, then warm breath on your neck. A soft gasp left you as his lips pressed against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sucking softly before biting down with enough force to cause you to yelp and break the skin under his teeth, blood bubbling up from the small bite wound. He chuckles as he laps the blood up and pressing another kiss to the mark before shoving you back through the gate.

You’re not given any time to process what just happened before the Entity is pulling you through the gate and back to the Campfire. Finally, and realizing you were back on your feet, you open your eyes and put a hand up against where he had bit you. It was as if the entire encounter hadn’t happened, the skin perfectly smooth and not a speck of blood to be seen - not even staining the collar of your shirt. Your hands shake a little as you look back towards the dark forest that surrounds the fire, not even sure what you’re looking for. Your cheeks flush as you think about his lips against your skin, and you take a shuddered breath to try to calm yourself down.

Finally, and with one more look around, you rub your neck and walk back to the fire… having missed the white, screaming mask peaking around the trees just out of your line of sight.

[dreamieofu]

Yours

pairing: mark x [f] reader   word count: 4.7k genre: strangers to lovers!au, college!au, smut, sexual themes, so much fluff.  summary: Mark is a familiar face, and one night when he asks you to hang out. warning(s): a lot of flirting, slight alcohol consumption, a small bar fight, a lot of kissing, protected sex, slight cockwarming, slight fingering, slight dry humping, tell me.. if there’s more this is my first time writing smut lol.

That’s the thing about love.

It’s unexpected. And this story is short, intense but plays like a record in the back of your head.

He was once someone you’d walk by, a distant stranger. You notice him in the corner of your eye, sitting at the cafeteria. Along with one of your classmates. It seemed to be that way, seeing him at the corner of your eye, around the shop nearest to your dorm. Catching him walk by you, on his way to class.  

A familiar face.

You didn’t think much of it, until you started seeing him more often; curiosity swirling in your mind, each time you’d find yourself looking his way.

Maybe it was his smile, or maybe the way he’d have his hands in his pockets. His stand, as he talks with friends. He was a familiar face, with no name attached to his small loop-sided smile.

It was that one night, near the steps at the front of the dormitory, you see him socialising with your classmate. At first you wanted to greet your classmate with your best friend, Renjun, but the way the boy would smile with his eyes, shots an arrow through your heart.   “Hey,” You gleam, walking towards them. Slightly peering over at him, soaking up the image of him and his hair. The way he stood there, cosy in a grey hoodie and khaki pants. You’d be lying to yourself to say you didn’t walk over in hopes of getting to know him. Your own personal mystery boy. While you introduce yourself, you also don’t fail to notice how much more endearing he was up close. Doe eyes, and a small mole on his cheek, your eyes trailing to find identical ones on the left side of his neck. He speaks, while a small smile creeps up on your cheeks, finally hearing a name for your mystery boy.   “Well, I’m Mark,”.

And just like that, you found yourself in an already blossoming love for him.

You exchanged numbers the night you learnt his name. Slowly, your both grew closer. Mark would go opposite the dorms on most days, hanging out with his friends, drinking beers and dancing around with them. You could see him below from your window, in a not so creepy way. Just admiring the way he laughed with them, and how he’d dance completely immersed in his element.   You send him a message. [6:30pm] I can see you from my window…

You hiccup a small giggle watching Mark instantly look up. His eyes searching for you mindlessly. This time Mark was sat at one of the tables nearby, his phone in his hands, hidden under the table slightly away from his friend, Donghyuck. Even from afar, you see a smile curve his left lip.

Mark [6:31pm] oh yeah? I can’t see you though.

He looks back up from his phone, trying not to be obvious to Donghyuck, that he’s looking for someone. Looking for you.

You exchange a few texts, whilst you watch him from your window. It was fun, the way he would message you from below. The way he would look up to the windows, almost as if he was looking right at you, yet not knowing where you were at all. You move away from your window sighing.   “He’s so cute…” sounding almost exasperated, Renjun chuckles at your words throwing a pillow at you from where he’s sat. You roll your eyes, moving the pillow onto your bed as you sink back into your position. You look out the window again, ignoring Renjun’s laughter.   “It’s obvious that you’re both flirting with each other,” Renjun explains, walking over to your bed which was right next to the window. He looms over the edge of your bed standing in front of your window to look down. He’s quick to find Mark. “I mean, he is cute. Look at him sitting there,” He laughs again, his tone slightly teasing you.   “I know! I’ve been looking at him for too long.” You turn you head at Renjun then back, returning to the window to sneak another glance at Mark.

“Why won’t you make a move? You never know, he could think the same thing about you.” Renjun’s suggestion is tempting, but you’re not very vocal about feelings. Especially if it’s romantical ones for boys you barely know.

But that was as far as you got. Small flirtatious interactions, but never anything like a date. You didn’t have many opportunities to be with him alone, too caught up with other friends. But one day, going home after a day of class, you bump into him and he’s alone.   “Mark!” You call out, with a big smile. You see him turn his head, catching your eyes. His face warms up watching you approach him, looking soft and returning your smile. But just as you get a step close to him, Mark engulfs you in a hug.

The hug was nothing you were expecting, he smells something almost like watermelon candy and it whiffs over you, filling your senses.  Mark’s chest is broader than you imagined, and his arms hold you tight. One of his hands around your middle back, and the other was gently placed at the back of your head bringing you close. His embrace lasted a second too long, before he pulls back, the same loop-sided smile holding his high cheeks. You feel like your heart was being nailed down against your chest, by how hard it was beating. Mark whispers a small “Hey,”.

You feel a little lost in his eyes as you reply, “How was your day?” And Mark smiles even wider at your question.   “Better now that I’ve seen you,” The thing is, Mark knew he was being direct with his flirting. Hoping you’d pick up, and in some ways you did. Mark notices you, probably the same way you have all along. Mark is forward, but in some sense socially awkward. However, when he finds himself in contact with you, things just flow. He doesn’t mind making the obvious vocal, he’s made comments about how he finds you cute. And each time, you don’t believe him. Throwing his words over your shoulder with a scoff and a nervous laugh. He likes the reactions he gets out of you, likes the way you’re nervous under his presence. “I’m going to hang out with Donghyuck later tonight for a drink. Wanna join?”   You radiate heat, both from the close proximity and his proposal. The tension between you two feels a little too much, and you swear his eyes are glistening. He looks pretty today. “I guess I’m free.” You agree.   “Cool, I’ll see you at the bar opposite around 8pm?” You nod at his words.

The time between this moment and 8pm stretched until you find yourself in your room sulking to Renjun.   “I can’t believe he asked me out!” You end your sentence with a whisper scream. Renjun was laid on your bed, on top of your covers one hand holding his head up as he looks at you bored whilst you finish your monologue.   “Well, he was bound to. I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised.” He rolls his eyes at you playfully. “As if you weren’t flirting in all the texts you send each other.”   “That’s not true!” Trying to deny all the times Mark’s messages wouldn’t fail to put a small smile on your face. Renjun says silent with a smug look.  “Okay, fine… We flirt a little… So what? I can’t flirt?” You fight back your past thoughts, knowing Renjun’s quick to call you out anyway.   You push yourself up from your desk, walking towards a full body length mirror. You look at your appearance, a spurge of confidence glowing. You admit that you were excited, as much as you were stressing over it all. “I mean, it’s not like we’re alone, alone. Donghyuck’s going to be there,” You drop your shoulders and pout.   “I mean, he could be just testing waters,” Renjun explains. You do know, although Renjun is your best friend (nothing more), he is a boy and to some extent, knows things like this.   “I guess… Wish me lucks?” You turn around to him, smiling over your shoulder.   “You don’t need it. Be yourself.”

You walk through the bar by yourself, heart racing with slow steps. You pass through dim lights and strangers, finding yourself deeper into the venue. Old vintage posters hung against the narrow walls, the smell of cigarettes surrounding you as music plays in the background. You finally find him. Sat across Donghyuck, with two pints of beers placed in between them as they laugh with each other. Mark notices your figure approaching, looking up at you through his eyelashes. An innocent smirk gracing his lips as Donghyuck silently moves over. You take that as a signal to sit next to him, as you sit across Mark with a breathless, “Hi,”. Donghyuck quietly giggles at the interaction. His hand covering his muted laugh.   “Would you like something to drink?” Mark asks, already getting up from his seat. Your eyes trail and follow his stance as he casts a shadow over your frame. He stands there in a graphic tee which is slightly tight, highlighting his figure. Not that you were staring too much, but he has a nice build. You swoon to yourself at his offer, licking your lips, “Surprise me,” You reply in a tone a tad bit too sultry for your liking, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males looking at you. Mark chuckles deeply at your response, a few of his top teeth showing as he nods off with a finishing smile. He walks into the crowd, away from the table and you watch his back.   “Cute.” Donghyuck gains your attention as you whip your head towards him, flushed.   “No,” You squeak, flustered. Because clearly he was referencing what just happened between you and Mark. Donghyuck just lightly laughs at you, taking a swing at his drink. You two talk casually for a few moments, before Mark returns, placing a red fruity looking cocktail in front of you.

“Surprise,” Mark gestures to the drink with a cocky eyebrow, taking his seat opposite you again.   The night goes by really nicely, Donghyuck is funnier around Mark. It was a feel-good vibe, getting to know both of them. You liked Mark’s drink suggestion a lot, so much so, he bought you 2 more throughout the night. Much to your dismay.

You finally felt like you were getting to know Mark outside his flirty day-to-day messages. He really did live up to all your daydreams so far, and you can’t pinpoint what it was about him that kept you so intrigued. Mark ever so often gazes at you, as if to silently ask if you’re okay. It’s comforting, knowing he cares about that.

His foot slightly nudges yours under the table. It causes you to look up from your drink, Mark looks back up at you innocently. The side of his leg brushing ever so gently against the side of your calf. You gulp slightly, watching him slowly move his body forward, away from the back of the chair. His eyes never leaving yours as he does so. Donghyuck is off on his phone, and Mark’s gaze is so intense you have to look away. Incredibly shy under his hold.

Loud shouting interrupts the moment.

Two men at each others lungs while others try and separate them. Their voices are distance but become more clearer when they approach your table faster than you realise. They’re too drunk to balance themselves as they slightly knock over against your shared bench with Donghyuck. Donghyuck instinctively puts an arm behind, to block them from pushing further. It gets a little out of hand when they knock against the bench once more, pushing your body against the table for you to gain steady balance from the impact. Mark notices your distressed look, “Come,” He mouths to you, knowing the fighting men were too loud for you to hear him. You got the point, once they backed off a little. Standing quickly, Mark mirrors you. He lets you sit in the inside of the seat, against the wall and he sits beside you again. This time, his warm hand holds one of yours from under the table. Donghyuck is safe, looking behind his shoulders looking at the guys. The argument sounded really drunk influenced and pointless, and it makes Donghyuck disinterested. Mark holds your hand close to his belly, over his lap as he looks forward, watching as Donghyuck does. But you’re looking at Mark ever so gently, touched that he’s trying to silently soothe your panicked thoughts.   The guys fighting finally cooled off and were escorted outside. “It’s common around here,” Donghyuck is the first to speak, his head motioning backwards swiftly referencing the guys who just left. “I’m going to use the toilet,” He clicks his tongue, getting up and leaving. Mark never lets go of your hand the whole time.   “Are you okay?” He asks, concern swimming in his tone as he looks at you. You were flustered since it happened all so quick. You nod though admitting, “I’ve never really seen something like that happen,”. Mark gives you a small sympathetic smile. He gives your hand a small squeeze as reassurance and it makes you feel safe. You’re grateful that they helped you from getting hurt, you don’t go out to bars or pubs often, so this experience was new. You both stayed in comfortable silence, looking at each other fondly. Only for a few short moments though because Donghyuck returns to the table.   “Anyway,” He coughs, breaking yet another one of your moments. “It’s getting late, how about we start heading back?” Donghyuck suggests, grabbing hold of his jacket that he took off earlier that night. Mark lets go of your hand upon hearing that, and gets up along with Donghyuck who stood waiting.   “Come, let us bring you home.” Mark smiles down at you, and you feel sad he let go of your hand. You stand with him, as Donghyuck leads you all back outside. The air was cool, and the same two guys were still arguing in the distance, away from the place you just left. You trail behind Mark and Donghyuck, hugging yourself as you all walk through the glass doors of the dorm’s reception entrance. Mark presses the buttons in the lift. He stayed on one of the top floors, and you lived on the 5th. Both Donghyuck and Mark drops you to your dorm door. Making sure to see you go inside, Mark stayed leaning against the side of your door as you stand in the tiny hallway entrance that leads to your single room. A smile on his lips as he says “Goodnight,” Donghyuck mirroring his words before they leave and you close the door behind them.   You were alone again, smiling to yourself at tonight’s events. Missing the way Mark held your hand. You take off your coat and place your bag down before turning on a lamp. You were about to change before you hear a knock on your door. You tilt your head at the sound, questioning if you heard correctly. You stride towards your door anyway, curiously opening the door to find Mark standing there. “Mark…” You say softly as he smiles at the way you say his name. “How come?” You continue, a bit lost for words as you step back widening the door. Mark took this as an invitation to walk into your room. “I was on my floor, but I wanted to see you again,” Mark confesses. He stands in the middle of your slightly glowed room. The small lap emitting a soft yellow glow throughout the room. Mark’s quick to scan your room and you silently thank yourself for cleaning up earlier today.   “You wanted to see me again?” You repeat his words, shutting the door and locking it for extra measure. You walk towards him, your throat feeling a bit dry. You gulp down the dryness, all of a sudden feeling vulnerable because he just stands there with an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah, I wanted to do this,” He speaks with confidence, closing the distance between you in seconds. He’s quick to effortlessly find purchase at the base of your neck, bringing your face close to his in a swift movement. Taking you by shock. But before he even dares to kiss you, there’s silence. A complete juxtaposition to how he was confident a beat ago. You watch him flutter his eyes close, his lips barely a breath away before he whispers to you ever so quietly, “Just tell me if you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”   Your breath hitches in your lungs, as he delicately kisses your bottom lip. It’s just placed there for a second, barely a kiss. Before he continues, he lets you talk. You don’t say anything though. Mark takes the initiative to pull you closer this time, his other hand around your waist as you relax under his touch. He kisses you again with intention.   This time, he feels assertive, and yearning. You melt into his kiss, finally settling into the curve of his jaw. Holding his face, his smooth skin warm under your palm. This gesture makes Mark smile into your kiss, finally feeling you accept and kiss him back. The kiss is sweet, and his lips plush as he moves them along, just perfectly, his tongue lining against your bottom lip parting them. You welcome him with a small whimper, and he steps backwards. You mindlessly dance with him towards your bed as you both kiss each other with open mouths and open hearts.   The back of Mark’s legs meet the side of your bed as he falls backwards, sitting down. You follow him forward, and gently bite his lips as he giggles. He uses the back of his hands to move further into the bed making room for you. You find yourself straddling his lap, reconnecting your lips together once again. “I think I like you,” Mark suddenly confesses, his heart thumping hard against his chest as he looks at you. The way you place your hands against his chest steadying your balance, you’re speechless. Both because of how he kisses you, and how you’ve ended up in this position. Mark is eager as he holds your hips in place, “Maybe a bit too much,” He chuckles. You smile, letting your weight sink onto his lap as your forehead falls on top of his with an elated smile.   There’s undeniable tension, you both feel it, and more so under you. Mark is noticeably hard, but you choose to stay silent about it. Liking the way you’re so close, and he feels just as vulnerable as you. You give him one small peck, before replying, “I like you too,”. This is all the confirmation Mark needs before he kisses you with more hunger. A feverish tension connecting you both, as his fingers slip under your shirt, gripping and pulling you down against his crotch. You laugh to yourself at how cute he was, trying to hint at you. Pulling away from the kiss, Mark finds a new journey along your neck and behind your ear. Easily finding all your sensitive spots as if he’s known your body forever. You moan embarrassingly, as he detaches his now swollen lips. Eyes now hooded as he reaches behind his head, his jacket already placed else where in the midst of making out. To then grab the collar behind his neck to take off his shirt. You lean backwards a bit, giving him room as your eye the way his bare skin was slowly being exposed under the soft light. The dimness contouring the light outline of his torso. His head pops up with a dorky smile, throwing the shirt over your shoulder. You giggle at his gesture, finding confidence to kiss along his jaw, meeting and kissing his tiny moles on his neck with open mouthed kisses. He likes the way you kiss him and you can tell, by the way his fingers traces along your back. Mark’s hands grips your ass bringing you both closer together. This move makes him fall backwards. You move along with him as he kicks off his shoes and socks, he’s laid back as you move above him more comfortably. You stay straddling him, looking down as you shyly tug the bottom of your shirt. “Close your eyes,”.   Mark seemed to find this endearing and he complies. Closing his eyes much to his dismay, he feels you get up from your position. He stays silent though, knowing you weren’t going anywhere. “Now open…” Mark barely hears you, as he supports himself on his elbows. He opens his eyes to find you standing near the bed, arms around your waist hugging yourself. It was obvious you were shy and nervous, but there you stood. And Mark swore he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you in that moment. Bitten lips, soft skin, glossy eyes and the light from the lamp glowing through the small strands of your messy hair. Mark stands in front of you, unzipping his trousers as he does so. Eyes connecting with yours as he takes them off in front of you. You gulp, feeling feverish under his gaze. The air so thick, as he steps out of his trousers and kicks them away. He reaches out his hand for you to hold, to guide you to the bed. It’s so quiet in your room, you can literally hear your heart ringing against the tips of your ears. “Just tell me if you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” He repeats his earlier words, but now he’s above you. His hands supporting himself against the sides of your head. His hair hanging above your face, tickling your forehead. You scrunch your nose when he smiles at you, “I want this, and I want you,” You whisper, lifting your head to meet him against his lips. Arms looping from his arms that caged you, to hold him around this shoulders connecting from behind his neck. He kisses back, pushing more force as he lets himself relax in your arms. He supports himself flat with his elbows, his legs shuffling between yours. He feels even harder than before, now barely clothed. And he makes sure you know of it, by grinding it against your clothed entrance. You stay kissing him for long moments, the sounds of his breath hitching when you scratch your nails along his bare back. He pulls away eyes still closed, “Condom?” Mark sounds breathless and needy.   You nod, no words forming as your hand reaches to the bedside table. You blindly search through the drawer for your tiny black bag of free condoms the university provided. Mark chuckles when you tap the bag against his rib. He opens his eyes, and smiles to himself.  This time, he straddles you. After taking off his boxers and rolling the condom on. He looks at your hooded eyes through his eyelashes, sucking in his bottom lip when he finally has the condom on. You don’t fail to notice how pretty his fingers looked wrapped around his cock, the size he was and how this was happening. He throws the bag on the floor, before finding your lips again. You yelp in his mouth when his fingers moves along your slit, pushing against the cotton material of your underwear. Your arousal so evident against the material. “You’re wet,” Mark speaks of the obvious with disbelief. He can’t believe he’s managed to get you this wet, with just kisses. It ignites something in him because you find him pressing aside your underwear, hearing his finger lining upwards to collect your wetness briefly. He lifts them and places it in between your kiss, moaning as you both taste yourself on his fingers. Tongues licking at each others briefly.  You whimper when he returns his fingers, this time playing around with your essence and your entrance, “So wet…” He whispers to himself. He barely grazes your clit, before he kisses your neck. Mark’s head resting at the crook of your neck, marking you, when he lines himself up to your entrance. Your wetness easily hugging around the head of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder, finally moving forward to start filling you up. You open your legs wider to accommodate him, gasping at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders. He teeth lets go of your shoulder to moan breathlessly against your ear, nibbling while he bottoms out.   “F-fuck,” He mutters, “it's so warm inside you,” whispering along with your whimpers because he doesn’t move. Your walls welcome him with love. He’s sinking into your warmth and it makes him crazy.  He only moves once he hears you moan out his name exasperated. “Ma-Mark…” and he starts.

Swift and precise with his thrusts, buckling up into your walls, as your mouth hangs open. He grunts when you clench around his length. “You’re so good, you feel so good,” He praises you, adorning you with his lips, and gentle kisses. He hovers above your glistening glossy eyes, looking into your fucked out expression from his movements. He doesn’t let go of your gaze, hitting into you harder making you bite your lip and knit your eyebrows together. His eyes intense and dark. You hold your clench around him when he speeds up, the way you moan his name like a chant, encourages him to speed up. He feeds off how you thrash your head, moaning and breathing with each thrust he gives you. Rolling his hips as you stick out your tongue. He welcomes you into his mouth, sucking onto you hard, fucking into you double.

“You make me feel so good…. Just like that,” You confess breathless, and he rolls his eyes at how muffled you sound. His hand trailing from your ankle, ghosting above your skin and making you follow along. One of his hands holding himself, while the other fiddles with your harden nipple. You gasp, licking your lips as he lowers his head. Mark’s lips attach onto the bud, sucking and rolling his tongue around. Needy you latch your legs around his waist as he thrusts deeper than you could have previously imagined. You choke on your spit, as he knits his eyebrows accidentally bitting your nipple.

His skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, “Pretty girl,” He kisses your cheeks, and you feel close. You clench onto him harder and tighter the closer you get, and he notices. This makes him speed up, chasing ecstasy, eyes peering over your expressions. The sound of skin slapping, and uneven breathes fill the room as you cum around him. Mouth hung open, your blunt nails running at his back, red lines of love and he’s in awe. Mark’s lips crashing into yours in a whimper. Your legs slightly shake around his figure, falling limp, but Mark doesn’t let up his movements. Chasing your orgasm with his, and he does seconds later. He stills himself above you, holding his breath as you feel him pulse inside of you. His orgasm lasting longer than he’s used to. Warmness sticking your bodies together as his strength gives out. Mark lets his body fall next to you, head spinning, trying to catch his breath. “Fuck…” He whispers to himself.   “We just did,” You smile turning your head, watching as his chest heaves, his hair pressed against his forehead. You rest your palm on his chest, feeling overwhelmed with everything. His heartbeat under your palm. Mark still had so much to show you, you both know it. And you’re excited to find it out. He lets out an airy laugh because of your words, his head now turning in a similar way to see you. His body turns to you also, his hand resting against your face as you look at each other. The tension settling in and feeling like adoration. “Will you be mine?” Mark sounds nervous, which you find really funny considering the deed you both just did together. Nonetheless, you smile at his words, feeling self-assured and vulnerable as you reply, “I’m already yours.”

[acnelli]

Hiding

This is my entry for the Hinny FicFest 2021 hosted by @clarensjoy. Thank you for organising it! There were so many lovely prompts to choose from and originally I wanted to write something really angsty for this one, but then decided to approach this in a much more lighthearted way.

Thank you @accio-broom for beta-reading! You are the best!

Prompt 2: Ginny gets sick and won’t admit it Rating: GA Pairing: Harry/Ginny Summary: Ginny had a bad day, including an unfortunate injury, which she tries to hide from Harry.

Also available on AO3 and FFN.

Ginny walked out of St. Mungo’s with a limp and a glare that would put Hermione’s cat Crookshanks to shame. The world was against her these last couple of days; she just knew it. 

It had started with a horrendous loss against a team the Harpies were positive they would never lose to; the Chudley Cannons. The orange excuse of a professional Quidditch Team had beat them, and it wasn’t even a close match. They lost 590 to 120—an absolute disaster. 

Of course, her insufferable brother had lost his mind, along with all the other Cannon fans in the stands. It had been the first time the Cannons won in what must’ve been years, which resulted in the players not even hearing the referee’s whistle, signalling the end of the game. 

Ginny had given Ron the tickets to this match as a birthday present. As long as the Cannons lost every single time, and she could greet her brother with a smug grin, she was okay with Ron switching his Harpies jersey with her number on it to his orange Cannon one. This time though, Ginny found it nothing short of traitorous, and even her family, including Harry, had the gal to congratulate Ron. Her brother would make sure she would never forget this day, no matter how many times the Harpies would kick their arses in the future. 

The Harpies, quite demoralised from their previous match, had shown up at training the next day, as usual. After a pep talk by their coach, the team had pepped up, flying different manoeuvres and acting out the strategies for their game against Ballycastle the next day. 

Enjoying the wind on her face, as well as the feeling that only flying so high up in the air could provide, Ginny had forgotten all about their loss and solely concentrated on getting the Quaffle inside one of the three loops from every possible angle. She had been so engaged in training that she noticed the dangerous wheezing of the Bludger one second too late. Although she could dive away to avoid getting hit in the face, the ball collided with her left ankle, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on a stretcher as a medi-wizard treated her injury. 

A broken ankle usually could be treated by the team’s healers, but the young man insisted on transferring her to the hospital as he suspected a more complicated fracture. And because it was Ginny’s lucky week, he had been right eventually. 

The healer who treated her advised Ginny not to play against Ballycastle as the Skele-gro would cause a great deal of pain, and painkillers were strictly forbidden at Quidditch matches, especially pain-relief potion which had strong side effects, and therefore, were a danger to herself and others while on a broom. 

Against the healer’s strongest protests, Ginny refused the skele-gro and asked the middle-aged woman to stabilize her ankle and give her some light painkillers that would wear off until tomorrow. 

Ginny needed to play tomorrow. A few days ago, Oliver had tipped her off that the national trainers would be watching the game against Ballycastle, and there was just no way she would pass this chance to show them that she was the right choice to play for England. Even if they only let her join as a reserve Chaser, it would be her ticket to play international Quidditch. 

While the discussion with the healer had been annoying but without any chance for the St. Mungo’s employee to change Ginny’s mind, the real battle would be at home. If Harry got even the slightest hint about his wife’s injury, a fight would break out, fitting these infuriating last two days. 

Harry, usually being blissfully oblivious to most things, immediately noticed when something was up with Ginny. While most times, this little fact warmed her heart, it was rather unfortunate today. And ever since Harry joined the Aurors, he had become even more of a bloodhound when he sensed a secret. 

Ginny was determined to try her best to appear normal when she carefully walked out of the fireplace and into the living room of Grimmauld Place. As she expected, Harry sat on the settee, reading the sports section of the Daily Prophet. 

“Hey, Gin,” Harry greeted her, looking up as she walked over to where he was sitting, “How was training? Did Rodgers let you off earlier today?” 

The painkillers still in effect, Ginny leaned down to kiss her husband, carefully lifting her weight off her injured ankle. Kissing Harry always made her feel good, but after her dreadful day, it simply felt like heaven. 

With one swift movement, Harry pulled her down with him on the settee. She cuddled up against his side, inhaling his scent as she trailed kisses down his neck. As their kisses became more heated, Harry rolled on top of her, and just as she was about to sigh because of the sweet friction, a pained whimper escaped her when Harry hit Ginny’s foot with his leg. 

He immediately jumped up, eyes going wide, and Ginny knew that she lost her little hiding game. Carefully sitting up, she waited until Harry crouched down in front of her, looking at her worried. 

“Are you hurt? What’s wrong with your foot?”

“Just a small accident at training today,” Ginny tried to reassure him, “Nothing serious.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Why does it still hurt then? Your medi-staff can heal most injuries in a heartbeat.”

“I said I’m fine,” Ginny said, cursing her bloody Weasley genes as she felt her ears turning red. As graceful as possible, she stood up, heading for the kitchen. Besides the fact that she didn’t want to have this conversation, she was also hungry. 

Of course, the conversation was far from over because Harry followed her into the kitchen, watching her with a raised eyebrow as Ginny made herself a sandwich. When she turned to face Harry, she tried to casually stand on her good foot, pretending her ankle wasn’t throbbing in a more penetrant manner now. Obviously, the painkillers had already started to wear off. 

“Why are you hiding this, Gin?” Harry asked, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, “Why didn’t you just go to a healer?”

“Because they would give me skele-gro and a pain-relief potion, meaning I wouldn’t be able to play tomorrow.”

“So? Ginny, I know you are amazing, but I’m sure the Harpies can manage one match without you.”

“Yes, they sure can,” Ginny huffed in frustration, “But if I don’t play, the scouts for the English national team possibly won’t take me into consideration.” 

Harry stood up and walked over to his wife, leaning down to get on eye-level with her. “To quote your brother: Are you fucking mental?”

“It’s my career, Harry! Playing for England is the dream, and I refuse to let this silly little injury get in the way.” 

Instead of commenting on this, he gently took Ginny’s hand, leading her to sit on a chair. More out of discomfort because of her increasingly throbbing ankle than the willingness to sit down, Ginny complied anyway. 

“This is far too dangerous, Ginny. You can’t possibly hold yourself on a broom for-”

“This is not up for debate,” Ginny interrupted him, her tone clipped and her face now red from anger, “I’ll just grit my teeth long enough to play some of my best manoeuvres, and then I’ll ask for a timeout and Rodgers will put me on the bench.”

“And you think Rodgers will be alright with you playing injured? Or are you planning to hide it like you tried to hide it from me?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Harry sighed in frustration at her trademark Weasley-stubbornness but he took Ginny’s hand anyway. 

“Okay, let’s put this into perspective, alright?” Ginny wanted to interrupt him, but Harry just kept talking. “You want to play in a game, most likely showing only a mediocre performance because of your broken ankle. Ginny, these scouts don’t have to see you play in this particular game. They know exactly who you are and what you’re capable of already. If you’re not playing in this match, they’ll watch you play in the next one. Assuming they want the very best for the national team, they’ll sure enough not write you off because you couldn’t make it to this match.”

Harry could tell that Ginny’s resolve was already crumbling, but he knew better than to stop here. “There are also your brothers, and more importantly, your mother. Molly will kill me if she learns you hurt yourself even more, despite me knowing of your injury.”

“But I’ve been looking forward to this game for so long,” Ginny sighed, frowning at the unfairness of it all. 

“I know,” Harry said, leaning forward a little to softly kiss her pouting lips, “But you can’t play. It’s not just dangerous for you, but also for your teammates and Ballycastle.”

Harry’s words destroyed every resolve Ginny still had standing. The last thing she would want is someone getting hurt because of her stubbornness, and certainly not her beloved Harpies. 

“Since when are you the voice of reason.” she groaned, letting her head fall against Harry’s chest and draping her arms around his neck. 

Harry took this opportunity to swoop her up into his arms before walking towards the fireplace. 

“Let’s get you to St. Mungo’s then.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, sighing at the prospect of the knowing look the healer will give her when she comes back. 

Before Harry could floo over to the hospital, Ginny leaned up and placed a hot kiss against his throat. 

“If I have to stay at home all day tomorrow, you better keep me company, Potter.”

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Wait ~ E.O.

A/n: let’s be real this is a Drabble, and after how much I’ve struggled to write requests the rest will probably be as well so I can finally get them out to you guys.

Request: “1 from prompt list... Enoch x non-binary maybe?...” by anon

Prompt: #1 (here): “I should go” / “Or you should stay a little longer.”

MASTERLIST

Hearing the music confused Y/n just a little bit. It was definitely piano, but it shouldn’t have been playing. It was clear, far different than the old recordings they had around that scratched and slipped and popped. It couldn’t have been Miss Peregrine either, because she had taken the others out on a picnic. Y/n knew that because they were sick in bed, and Miss P had given them a head’s up on her way out so Y/n wouldn’t be startled if they got up and moved around to see an empty house.

The thing was, Y/n was torn about whether they were happy to hear the music or not. On one hand, they had the WORST headache. On the other... their favorite music had always been made by pianos and violins - The two most beautiful instruments in their mind. Most importantly, the music was being played beautifully.

Half in irritation and half due to curiosity, Y/n plodded down the steps of the very special house for very special people like Y/n, which was uncharacteristically empty today. They wandered around, trying to narrow their eyes enough to block out the sun while still being able to see.

Following the music brought them to a small parlor room. They’d just moved since the attack on the old time loop and with the chaos of so many people and adjusting to a new place, Y/n hadn’t had much time to explore. Their quirk was that they had a sort of psychic link to all living creatures. Not in the form of mind reading, but of feeling emotions. Emotions that, unfortunately, demanded to be felt rather violently. Emotions that fell of people in waves of bright colors. With the many new people they were boarding with until they found their own place to make a new loop, Y/n had been overwhelmed and very sick. It was probably why Miss Peregrine has set up the picnic to begin with.

It was also why they loved music so much. They could listen to and feel music without it messing them up. It was a beautiful experience.

That was all beside the point though.

The small parlor was new to Y/n. It didn’t have much in it. In fact, the most noticiable things were a bunch of seats forming a semi circle around a large, blank wall, which is probably where the others sat to watch Horace’s dreams. The other thing in the room was a gorgeous grand piano. Sitting on the bench playing it, to Y/n’s shock, was Enoch.

Upon hearing the door open, Enoch jumped away from the piano like it had burned him, spinning around and tripping over himself to get away from the thing. Y/n covered their mouth to hide a laugh they knew Enoch would find offensive.

“You- you’re here,” he stuttered. For someone who was usually gloomy and withdrawn and sulky, Enoch was suddenly very read faced, waves of magenta rolling off of him and pooling on the floor like mist. The bits higher up twirled into the air and spun around, like rays of sun. Compared to his dark grey outfit, pale skin, and black hair, the colorful emotion was almost laughable in its brilliance.

“I am,” Y/n agreed. “I’ve Uh, been sick.”

Enoch oriented himself, and his color changed. Like food coloring falling into water, a rich purple and sickly green twisted and spun, spreading out from the middle and consuming all the magenta from before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’ve been... there are a lot of people here. I’ve sort of been a recluse. Not talked much. Miss Peregrine said you’d all be gone.”

“I don’t think it occurred to her I’d be getting out of bed. Lots of people like you said. Very overwhelming, especially with how pretty the scenery outside is as well. I mean, emotions are one thing but living in a world that’s like some sort of painting? All those vibrant colors all the time? World’s worst headache.” Y/n suddenly rushed to end the ramble, embarrassed. They looked down at their hands and took reassurance that they could not see colors curling off of their fingers. Alone, at least, they had solace from the colors.

Enoch shuffled. “Well I’m sorry I bothered you. I just, uh, it’s peaceful. Easy way to blow off some steam, or make some noise that isn’t annoying. Never did like quiet. If you’re trying to get a break from emotions I’m sure you don’t want to see mine.” He scowled, the green taking over the purple now. It was the color green that spoke of disgust. Y/n immediately looked at their feet.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I-“ they swallowed. In all honesty, they had a bit of a crush on Enoch. It had started ages ago when being around Enoch had been a relief. His emotions were usually duller colors, because he was broody and sarcastic. Y/n wished him happiness, but if he was going to be grumpy then Y/n was going to enjoy it. The thing was, enjoying Enoch’s company had lead Y/n to taking part in it a lot. It wasn’t until Jake came around and ruined everything that Y/n withdrew, turned away by the sudden surging vibrant red of angry annoyance that spurted off of Enoch like fireworks. Since then, it had been one thing after another until Y/n was left feeling like Enoch got rather annoyed whenever Y/n was around anymore.

They figured he’d realized he liked not having them around and tried to keep their distance. Every time they showed up, Enoch got glummer than usual and his colors became like mop water. Not just dull, but muddy, and often mixing with hate and disgust. It made Y/n sick to see. If he was being honest, it was that more than anything that made him feel terrible.

“Why would you ever need to be sorry for anything?” Enoch asked quietly, seeming genuinely curious about that. “I’m the one that’s upset you.”

“I upset you first.” It was too honest, and Y/n felt their body tense. “Er, interrupting your piano playing. Which I didn’t know you did by the way.”

For the first time in a very long time, Enoch offered a smile. It was small, and he seemed shy about it, but it was there, and it stuck. “You never upset me, Y/n. I don’t think you could if you tried.”

At that, Y/n got angry. “Well don’t go lying to me now just because you pity me.” That seemed to startle Enoch. “Mind You Enoch O’Connor, I can see your emotions, remember? I can’t see all that hate and disgust that flares up everytime I’m around. I’m not blind and I’m not an idiot - don’t treat me one and just let me apologize already!”

For a long time, Enoch was stunned. Then he slowly realized, and his face morphed into a mix of emotions Y/n had gotten used to seeing. Irritation. Disgust. Frustration. Anger. Regret. There were new ones too. Ones that didn’t make sense. Amusement. The light bubblegum that usually signaled someone making sassy comments in their head. The color of attitude. Enoch finally shook his head, watching Y/n’s eyes flick around him but never looking directly at him. He had long since learned that it was them looking at the colors. With all the emotions in him right now, he was sure that the confusion on their face was the result of attempting to dicipher any of it.

“Remember that you can see feelings, but you don’t know why they’re there.” Y/n finally looked at Enoch, wary. “The hate and disgust wasn’t directed at you, Y/n. I-“ he purses his lips for a second. “When Jake came around, I was really annoyed with him. After his stupid grandfather I didn’t want another one coming around and hurting my friends by leaving again. And I knew he would. And then he did! He came back but that’s not the point.” He sighed, seeming to be taking a second to remind himself of something. “I let that get to me too much. I... remember how you’d flinch away from me every time Jake was around and my emotions would flare up. I felt terrible. One day you just disappeared, and then so much was happening and I‘d gone and pushed you away and now we might not ever be friends again.” He shrugged. Though not usually one to express himself, he’d always been loose lipped around Y/n. More so now after all they’d been through. Jake had taught him to talk, if nothing else, and Enoch could appreciate that at the very least.

Y/n looked at their feet. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that. That you felt so pressured to be calm around me, to repressed your emotions. And that I... mixed things up, rather than just talking to you. I know it’s not fair to read into your emotions with the hints I get when you never get a look into mine when it comes to you.” Suddenly they were both on high alert. The way Y/n had said that had been so far from talking about normal feelings like Enoch had been talking about. They had used a tone that was so distinctively... something more.

“What?” Enoch asked softly.

“I- I-“ Y/n began to back up, and Enoch didn’t have to see their emotional colors to know they were panicking. “I better go.”

Enoch surged forward, catching their arm. “No, wait.” He bit his lip as Y/n refused to look at him, before reaching over and catching their chin, tugging them around to look at him again. He offered a soft smile. That same one from before, but hopeful now. “I think you could- or, you should at least, stay. Just a little longer.”

Y/n looked up at him with that same nervous hope. “Why?”

Enoch stepped closer, and Y/n felt something in his chest grow warm at the sunset orange slowly curling around and drowning all the other colors. Orange, which was sometimes admiration or idolization, but was most often proof of a crush. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

And Y/n knew he was right.

[undercoveravenger]

Judgement Day

Pairing: Cato x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: “Hi! Can you write a super angsty story for a Cato x male reader? One where they both like one another but neither of them is making the first move. Cato is distant because he doesn’t know how to deal with these feelings and male reader takes this as Cato not liking him. Something happens that makes Cato super jealous and finally confesses to male reader.”

A/N: Y’all don’t understand HOW LONG I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me to write for Cato. Like, this man could choke me out with his biceps and I would probably thank him. Please ask me for more Hunger Games things when my requests open back up!

__________________________________________________________

Cato had always known that he was going to end up a tribute. He’d been raised to be a survivor and trained to be a winner. He’d fought and clawed his way through District Two’s Tribute Academy to earn the right to Volunteer when he turned eighteen uncontested, and he’d never once doubted his choice.

Never once, until he was on the train to the Capitol watching the videos of the other Districts’ Reapings and saw you for the first time. You hadn’t been from one of the Career Districts like Cato, but instead of looking weak or scared as you took your place on the stage the way many of the past tributes from most of the outlying districts always did, you merely looked resolute- acknowledging that you may not be coming back, but determined to go down fighting.

The resilient spark that he had seen in your eyes haunted him throughout the rest of the ride into the Capitol.

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

Cato’s thoughts had been torn away from you when he was handed over to his stylists, but his attention had snapped right back to you when he saw you before the tribute parade. He’d known that he looked brutal in his golden armor and shining headdress, but somehow your stylists had made you look striking in a way that was both strong and beautiful and altogether different from him. 

They’d taken the color palette of autumn trees (Lumber was the specialty for District Seven, so that made sense) and cut miniscule leaves out of the fabric, sewing and weaving them together in a way that made the long cape that flowed from your shoulders look like they’d been caught a breeze right from the forest and bound it to you. In a strange way, Cato could almost relate to that thought. The rest of your outfit was a dusky brown with thick ridges and swirls marked into the fabric to make it look like the rough bark of a tree, leaving you and your District partner looking like the very embodiments of autumn as you stepped up into the carriage pulled by a pair of bay horses, their coats shining a brilliant crimson as the bright lights hit them.

Cato had had to drag his eyes away from you when his and Clove’s chariot lurched into motion.

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

When training had started, Cato had already begun to suspect that he felt something for you, though he thought it was merely an attraction. He was proven wrong when his heart lurched in his chest when one of the trainers had you trapped in a wrestling hold, wrenching your feet up off the ground and slamming you backward onto the hard training mat.

He knew in the back of his mind that you weren’t in any real danger yet (the trainers were there to help you all stand a chance in the arena, not kill you before the Games even started after all), but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t positively fuming at the fact that someone had dared to put their hands on you. He shoved his way past the couple of other tributes that’d been lined up at the wrestling station, holding your gaze as you pushed yourself back to your feet. He looked back to the trainer in front of him when you shook out of your daze and made your way to the back of the line.

Cato grinned as the trainer lowered into a fighting stance in front of him, quickly launching himself into the match. He managed to duck out of the way of the trainer’s grappling pretty easily, having gone through much more intense training back in his District anyway. He kept his distance when he could, keen azure eyes waiting for any opening- there. 

He moved immediately upon realizing that the trainer was favoring his left leg, moving quickly to knock him off balance and then throwing him hard to the mat, pinning him face-down against the stiff plastic. Cato let a self-satisfied grin slip onto his face as he moved to get off of the trainer, the corners of his lips twitching up ever higher as he met your awed (e/c) eyes and suddenly he found himself hoping that the line between the two of you and the mat never moved again.

“That was incredible,” you told Cato as he came to stand behind you in the line and the blond had to fight back a smile at the fact that you were speaking to him for the first time.

“If you thought that was impressive, you should see what I can do with a sword.” He winced internally, knowing that while that sort of thing mattered where he was from, you probably wouldn’t find it nearly as awe-inspiring. You’d probably just be afraid of him.

You just chuckled and Cato’s hope was restored. “Well, no offense, but I’d just as soon not be on the other end of a blade from you.”

Cato laughed, a little relieved that you hadn’t taken his thoughtless remark as a threat. “That’s probably a good idea,” he grinned. “Really though, I’m not too bad. It’s Clove you’ve gotta watch out for,” he nodded toward his District partner, wincing when one of the throwing knives she was using struck the target with deadly precision.

“Thanks for the advice,” you muttered, eyes wide as you watched her throw again from across the room.

Cato opened his mouth, struggling to come up with something to say. “Uh, what about you?”

“What about me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at the blond.

He shrugged, looking away sheepishly and hoping you couldn’t see the ghost of a blush forming on his cheeks, “What’re you good at? Clove’s got her knives and I’ve got swords and spears. What’s your thing?”

Your brows furrowed as you looked away, clearly deep in thought. You brightened, grinning at him as you cocked your head toward the throwing station. Cato watched curiously as you picked up a throwing axe, tossing it idly between your hands. “It’s a little different the way we do it back in District Seven, but it’s a good way to have some fun once the work day is over.” He watched as you pulled back, the axe turning head over handle as you released it, the sharp end of the head sinking deep into the target with a loud thud, nearly as precisely as his District partner.

“Holy shit, that was cool,” he murmured, smug satisfaction settling in his chest as you flushed at the praise. “What else do they teach you out there in the woods?” he prodded, hoping you’d open up about yourself now that he’d gotten you talking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but cut yourself off as the bell to signal the end of the training day chimed. “Ask me tomorrow and find out.”

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

Just as you’d asked, Cato met up with you as soon as you made your way down into the training room the next morning and you showed him many of the other things that growing up in District Seven had taught you. In exchange, he helped train you in a few different methods of hand-to-hand combat.

With all the time the two of you were spending together, it was no wonder that he’d grown quite fond of you, something that he’d struggled to hide, even during his televised interview.

Caesar Flickerman, dressed this year in a gaudy shade of blue, had shaken his hand warmly and guided him to sit in one of the chairs situated before the massive audience. A few minutes of meaningless banter passed before Caesar finally asked a question that threw Cato for a loop. “So,” he had started, wide blue eyes fixed on the blond and hands clasped in front of him, “Is there anyone that’ll be in the Arena that makes you nervous?”

Retrospectively, he knew that Caesar had been asking whether there was anyone he was worried about facing, but in that moment the only face that came to mind was yours. “(M/N),” he’d answered reflexively, scrambling to backtrack as soon as your name had left his lips. “The boy from District Seven, I mean. We’ve spent some time together during training. He’s good; he’ll put up a good fight in the Arena, no matter who he’s up against.”

Caesar had caught on to his hesitation and, in true interviewer fashion, had to probe further. “You’ve spent time together?”

Cato schooled his expression back into the nonchalance that his mentors had wanted him to show, forcing himself back to the effortless confidence he was meant to exude. “We talked. Sparred some. He showed me some things he knew and I showed him some that I did.” He forced himself to laugh, “Of course, I still have plenty of tricks up my sleeve, so it’ll still be a hell of a show.”

Caesar had laughed, making a few more jokes to the audience and shaking his hand again for the innumerable cameras before dismissing him.

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

Cato forced himself to sit through the next few Districts’ interviews with relative indifference, but then it was your turn and Cato had to force himself not to visibly perk up, though his eyes remained fixed on you. 

Caesar greeted you the same way he had the rest of the tributes and guided you back to the interviewee’s chair, setting into his wheel of questions easily. Cato had nearly tuned out your interview entirely when one question in particular caught his attention. “Is there anyone special waiting for you back home?” Caesar had asked, leaning forward like he was expecting some juicy gossip. “A handsome boy like you must have a girlfriend waiting for you, right?”

You’d flushed, the brilliant red of your embarrassed blush bright enough to even be seen on the huge screens the interview was being projected up on. “No, uh, no girlfriend.”

“Seriously?” Caesar had asked disbelievingly. “Surely, there must be a girl-”

“No,” You’d protested, raising your hands defensively, “I’m actually, um,” you’d turned your gaze to your lap so you could avoid his eyes, “I’m attracted to boys.”

Caesar let out a noise of understanding, sitting back in his chair and shooting the audience a knowing look. “If that’s the case, allow me to revise my question, is there anyone back home that you’re interested in?’

“Back home? No,” you shook your head, offering Caesar a polite smile. Cato could tell that Caesar had been about to push you for more details when the buzzer went off, signaling that they had run out of time to question you. The interviewer looked slightly off-put, but he had to abide by the rules so he shook your hand for the cameras and sent you off.

Something about your interview had left a bad taste in Cato’s mouth, so as soon as you’d retaken your place in line and your District partner had made her way up onto the stage Cato found himself storming down the line of tributes until he reached you, grabbing the front of your shirt and dragging you close enough that, though it looked like he was snarling an insult at you to anyone else, only you could hear him asking you to meet him on the roof that night. When you gave him a barely perceptible nod, he released you, shoving hard on your shoulders for show before making his way back to his place, a frustrated grimace on his face.

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

The interviews ended late, but the Capitol was still in an uproar even later into the night when you finally made your way up into the rooftop garden where Cato had been waiting for you. He turned to face you as soon as the elevators slid open, azure eyes reflecting the lights of the city as you came to stand beside him, looking out over the city.

He was quiet for a long moment as he stared out over the horizon, but eventually forced himself to speak. “I don’t want to be here,” he said finally, chancing a look over at you. “I thought I did. I mean, I Volunteered and everything, but it just didn’t feel real until now.”

“What changed?” you asked.

Cato wasn’t really sure that he knew the answer until he thought back to the way he felt after your interview. The burning ache that your words had left in his chest had been jealousy and the way he hadn’t been able to take his mind off of you since he’d first seen the recording of your Reaping had been far more than just an attraction. Finally, like the sun peeking out of the clouds after a heavy rain, the answer dawned on him. “I did.” He bit out a laugh, “I met someone, and it made me realize how much the Games were going to take from me before I even realized what I was going to lose.”

“Clove is a lucky girl,” you mused, taking a seat near the railing around the edge of the roof. “Or is it that girl from Twelve? You might have to compete with that bakery boy for her, but you seem like you’d be more her type than him anyway…”

Cato turned to look at you curiously, “It’s not a girl.”

You seemed surprised, but you were quick to shrug it off. “Then maybe you’re after the bakery boy yourself, then? Or what’s-his-name from One?”

“Nope,” Cato hummed, grinning a little as he dropped down to sit next to you. He remained quiet for a moment, clearly entertained by the way you were seemingly running through the list of other tributes in your head. “Y’know,” he started after a moment, “It would be a lot easier for me to tell you that I have feelings for you if you were to stop guessing every other tribute.”

His words seemed to stop you in your tracks and he couldn’t stop the grin that threatened to take over his features as you stared back at him in surprise, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, like you’d been about to suggest another name. “M-me?” you forced out eventually.

Cato laughed, nodding. “Sorry, I made it weird, didn’t I?” He huffed, turning his attention back to the galaxy of lights spread out below you, “I just-” he shrugged, “I didn’t want to go into the Arena tomorrow without telling you how I felt. You don’t have to worry about saying no; it’s not going to make me target you or anything. I’ve already asked the rest of my alliance to leave you alone, so you don’t really have us to worry about.”

“What if I wasn’t going to tell you no?” Your voice was steady, even and contemplative, even though what you were talking about could give the both of you a major Achilles heel in the Arena in just a few hours.

Cato jerked around to face you, visibly stunned by your words. “What?!”

“What if I liked you back?” you prompted, turning to meet his gaze. “Would it change anything anyway? We’re from two different Districts; we’ve got a worse chance than the wanna-be lovers from Twelve.”

Cato sighed; he knew that you had a point. No matter how much you liked one another, you were still going to be thrown into the Arena and be expected to kill each other. “I don’t care,” he said finally, determined blue eyes meeting yours, “I don’t care if I only get a few days or a few hours. I just want to be with you, even if I only get a little while.”

You looked torn and Cato couldn’t blame you. On the one hand, being able to be with someone who liked you a lot would be great, but it would hurt more when one of you was killed in the Arena, but forcing yourself to stay away from the person that held your heart? Cato was sure the not-knowing would kill him.

After a moment, you nodded and Cato felt the weight in his chest that’d been dragging at him lighten, if only a little. You scooted closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to the top of your head before turning back to watch the lights of the city before you again.

Cato knew that there was no way he could promise you forever, not when you were about to get thrown headlong into a bloodbath, but he could promise you that he would be here to hold you in his arms until the sun began to rise and that, even as the canons sounded to start the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games, he would be praying for a miracle that would allow him to stay with you.

[andypantsx3]

war paint | 2 | rumors

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters

summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)

tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut

The city was nothing like you’d expected it to be.

You’d known of course, that it would be filled with people. You’d grown up only a day’s journey south of the capital - you had seen the caravans of merchants that passed close to your family farm almost weekly, the stream of soldiers that poured endlessly out from the city walls to spread out across the countryside.

But still none of that prepared you. It was loud, louder than almost anything you’d ever heard. Thousands upon thousands of people clamored almost on top of one another, running this way and that, chatting and yelling and selling everything under the sun.

You followed the main road through the city gates, carrying you deeper into the city. The castle stood on a high ledge overlooking the city, and the main road eventually wound into looping switchbacks leading up the steep climb.

It was hell after your long walk all the way to the city, made even more so by the tight fabric you’d eventually thought to wind around your chest under your shirt, but you endured it, eager to be done. The sooner you reached the top, the sooner you could speak to a castle guard about enlistment.

At the top, you found a small troop of soldiers guarding a portcullis signaling the entrance to castle grounds.

“Excuse me,” you greeted a guard, “where would I find the enlistment offices?”

He stared down at you. “A little small to be joining the kingsguard, aren’t you?”

You bristled. “I wasn’t aware that the army turned away able men.”

An eyebrow went up. “Able men, no. Able boys, though, are another thing. Are you sure you’re old enough?”

You stared at him in question, then realized what you must look like to him. Though nearly a spinster as a woman, as a man you must look almost like a child, short and fresh-faced and soft-voiced.

“I’ve had sixteen summers, though I may not look it,” you said, pressing up on your heels. You doubted he would believe you any older, considering how quickly boys grew after that age.

“You certainly don’t look it, no,” he chuckled. He gestured to his left, indicating a small building tucked into the outcropping of castle walls. “Office is over there, we’ll see if they believe you.”

You thanked him, pushing down your annoyance, and followed his direction to the building. The door was already open, and just inside sat what must have been the kingdom’s most harried looking clerk, scribbling away over scrolls of parchment, his shirt and hair rumpled as if he’d had no rest for days.

“Excuse me, sir,” you started, but he cut you off with a long, gusty sigh.

“No, he does not have two heads, nor is he in possession of claws or fangs. He is human by all accounts, was born here in the capital, and as far as I’m aware no winds from hell have ever blown through the city.”

You stared at him. “What?”

The clerk heaved another put upon sigh and looked up at you. “You’re here about Captain Bakugou, are you not? You boys always want the same thing.”

You felt your eyebrows go up. “Captain...who?”

The clerk blinked. “You haven’t heard of Captain Bakugou?”

You looked at him blankly. “Should I know who that is?”

He shuffled his papers meaningfully. “Why are you here then, boy, if not to ask about our Lord Captain?”

You leaned forward eagerly. “I’m here to join the kingsguard, sir.”

He looked you up and down skeptically. “You must be of age to join the kingsguard.”

“I am!” you said feelingly. You hadn’t anticipated this much trouble about your age when you’d planned this. You couldn’t let him stop you from joining the guard; you needed that initial fee to send back to your family quickly. “How can I prove it, sir?”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Have you any papers?”

You shook your head. “I’m from the country, sir. A farm. We don’t have any papers there.”

His mouth twisted. “What’s your name?”

“L/N,” you said. “My family name, sir.”

“And how old are you, L/N?” he asked.

“Just sixteen last summer,” you said.

He sighed. “I suppose you could be. And you mean to join the kingsguard, do you?”

You nodded.

He rustled around on his desk, digging through his papers before thrusting a half hand of parchment at you. It was covered with cramped lines in a dark ink, with a small space left open towards the bottom.

“This is your contract,” he said, “can you read or do you need me to read it to you?”

You took it from him. “I can read, sir.”

You scanned the paper quickly, eyes darting over the terms outlining your pay, your meals, and your housing. You picked out phrases like one year and a day, the length of your contract, and the concerning phrase in the service of Katsuki Bakugou, Captain of the Guard and Lord of Musutafu.

“You said this, um, Captain Bakugou...people think he has two heads?” you asked hesitantly.

The clerk waved a hand. “A rumor, nothing more.”

You wondered at that, why a man -- a nobleman at that, if the title of lord was any indication -- would stand accused of possessing an extra head, and from the sound of it, a set of fangs and claws. Was he horrifically ugly? You supposed it mattered not, if he were a good captain.

“Um, I sign here?” you asked, indicating the blank space at the bottom.

The clerk nodded and handed you his quill. You copied out your name in a messy hand, obscuring your first name in a riot of loose loops, and handed the parchment back to him. He looked it over and nodded, handing over a small seal in its place.

“This will get you inside castle grounds. You’re to head straight for the barracks to the east of the palace proper.”

You nodded, and stepped back out into the waning sunlight, following his direction back to the castle entrance. The dark haired guard who you’d spoken to smiled at your approach.

“Looks like we’ll be serving with each other after all, then?” he asked.

You nodded.

He held out a hand, “I’m Hanta Sero.”

“L/N,” you said, taking his hand and shaking it.

Sero gestured you inside the palace grounds, and you set off towards the east, following a wide cobblestone path towards a series of buildings set into the long shadow the castle cast at sunset. Your bindings itched now more than ever, and you looked forward to finding somewhere to sit, eager to get off your feet after a full day’s journey.

As you arrived at the front of the barracks, you were greeted by another soldier. He looked about your age, with large unruly spikes of yellow-blonde hair and friendly features, and he seemed to perk up considerably as you approached.

“I was wondering if we’d get anyone new today!” he said, smiling. “Welcome to the kingsguard!”

You raised a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m L/N.”

“Denki Kaminari,” he replied, gesturing for you to follow him. “You’re lucky you got here when you did! They just rang the bell for dinner.”

He led you into one of the buildings, down a long corridor that emerged into an enormous mess hall set with high ceilings and studded with dozens of tables and low benches. The din of many voices crashed over you, and you gaped at the hundreds of soldiers spread out across the room, chattering in clusters of brilliant red uniforms. A line snaked around the corner of the room, men of every stature tapping their feet impatiently as the queued up to receive their rations.

You were suddenly struck by what it meant to be here. These hundreds of men, you would be living among them, dining with them, sleeping beside them, training and fighting with them. You would need to remain in disguise for a year and a day, need to hide while you bathed, while you changed, while you bled. The thought was incredibly overwhelming.

“So where you from?” Kaminari said conversationally as you joined the line behind a pair of men chatting in low tones.

“Only about a day south of here,” you said, waving a hand. “It’s a small farm village, I doubt you’d know it. You?”

Kaminari grinned. “Born and raised in the capital! I’m a city boy through and through.”

You laughed. “Have you ever been outside of it?”

He shook his blonde head. “Only for the rare training and once on exchange with the city watch -- Captain Bakugou sometimes loans us out to Commander Iida. Last time, Iida made my troop do a perimeter walk around the city.”

“Commander Iida?” you asked.

Kaminari nodded. “Another of the nobles who took a military position, like Captain Bakugou. He’s much nicer, though. Strict, but he hardly breathes fire like our dear captain.”

You could feel your eyebrows lift. “Breathes fire?”

Kaminari laughed. “Well, he doesn’t breathe it. He mostly just yells his head off. Oh, but he can make stuff explode if he gets really into it. He’s got some amount of magic, like Prince Shouto.”

You nodded. Magic was rare, but not unheard of. One girl in your home village had been born with the ability to turn anything smaller than a cat into dust. The other kids had kept their distance from her, until she’d grown up quite beautiful. Last you’d heard, she was married to the village headman’s son and had a little girl of her own.

“The registration clerk seemed to have much to say about the captain,” you said. “Why are there so many rumors about him?”

The line moved forward as you spoke, and you followed. Your ankle rolled underneath you and you stumbled, colliding hard with the back of one of the men in front of you.

“Oh,” you said, backing up a step. “My apologies.”

The two men turned to you, the one you’d run into eyeing you angrily. “Watch it, pipsqueak.”

You frowned up at him, eyebrows drawing together. “Hey, I said I’m sorry. No need for that.”

Kaminari made a concerned noise beside you, but you paid him no mind as the man drew himself up in front of you. He was dark haired and blue-eyed, with the kind of manner that might have suggested he’d never seen a hard day in his life had the sudden spark of violence in his eye not told a different story.

“What’d you say, you little baby bitch?” he ground out.

Your hand balled into a fist, but Kaminari put a placating hand out in front of you. “Nishimura, it was an accident. No need to fight!”

Nishimura growled. “This little fuck thinks he can tell me what to do. I’ll teach him his place.”

What the hell was this man’s problem? Suddenly, it felt like all your emotions were welling up inside of you. Your exhaustion from walking all day, your frustration with your father, your anxiety at being trapped with these men for more than a year, all of it roiled inside you like the churning waves of an angry sea. The words bubbled up before you could stop them.

“Try it, asshole.”

Nishimura lunged, and he was on you before you could blink. The next thing you registered, the two of you were rolling across the floor, scrabbling at each other like starving animals. His fist caught you in your side and you grunted, hooking a foot into his stomach and forcing him off of you. You scrambled to your feet and backed away, knocking roughly into one of the low tables.

You’d never fought with anyone before, and if this is what it was like, you never wanted to again. Your heart beat frantically in your throat, every fiber in your body snapped to attention. You felt scared, threatened, and so apprehensive you might be sick.

Nishimura, however, did not seem to have the same reservations. He rolled to his feet and lunged for you again, catching you around the waist and bringing you to the floor. His fist drove into your stomach, knocking the wind from you. Frantic, and struggling to breathe, you curled your own fist, catching him in the side of the jaw.

He’d just managed to hit you in the stomach again when there was a blinding flash and a deafening crack like thunder split the mess hall. Nishimura’s eyes widened and he swore, pushing himself off of you as fast as he’d dove for you.

You coughed, curling an arm around your stomach, desperately attempting to take in air.

“What the fuck is going on?” a rough voice growled from behind you. Nishimura stepped back from you, stumbling.

“He attacked me, sir,” Nishimura said, his pupils dilating in something that looked like fear. Behind him, the friend he’d been talking with nodded, though his eyes remained fixed, unblinking, on someone behind you.

“Bullshit,” you gasped out, “you tackled me.”

Nishmura’s eyes darted back to you, but only for a second. You rolled to your knees, turning to look up at whoever he’d been addressing, only to freeze under a blood-red gaze.

Suddenly, all the talk of rumors finally became clear.

Though he had no fangs or claws or an extra head, there was no question who the man in front of you was. Captain Katsuki Bakugou was tall, powerfully built, with ash blonde hair, and a handsome face that could have been carved from stone. He stood at the entrance of the mess hall, looking as though he’d just returned from somewhere, dressed in a dark traveling cloak that mostly obscured the red uniform shirt of the palace guard. Power seemed to pour from him in angry waves, and the hard expression that twisted his features was enough to quicken your heartbeat.

“I don’t give a shit who started it,” Bakugou snarled. “I don’t need soldiers who roll around on the floor like squabbling fucking toddlers.”

Indignation washed through you and you opened your mouth to retort, but Bakugou rounded on you.

“You gonna talk back to me, pretty boy?” he demanded. “Say one damn word and I’ll fucking cook you in your skin.”

A volley of sparks lit off from his palm, and your mouth clicked shut.

He sneered at you before his crimson gaze flicked back to Nishimura. “And you, acting like you weren’t the one winning the damn fight.” He growled. “Both of you, one month of extra training. And if I see you so much as breathe in each other’s direction again, I’ll kill you.”

Your blood pounded in your ears as you nodded. Nishimura was similarly cowed, staring at his feet.

Bakugou’s eyes searched over every face in the room. “That goes for the rest of you. Now dinner’s over. Back to your rooms.”

There was a rustle of indignant shuffling behind you, but no one dared disagree with him. Looking satisfied, Bakugou turned on his heel, pinning you with one last hard look, before sweeping from the room. His boots echoed in the hall, easily audible over the stunned silence of the men around you.

You closed your eyes, the pain from your bruises and the gnaw of your empty stomach finally washing over you.

Fuck. This was not how you’d wanted to start your enlistment.

[enhypenwriters]

I decided to participate in Be My Love. Me isn’t writer....please go easy on me...don’t expect greatness🙂

The Trip

☆Pairing: Heeseung X Reader

☆Genre: Fluff, Angst

☆Warning: Language, Cheating, Little Violence

☆Synopsis: How will a vacation go with a stranger?

By Admin Anna🦦

—————

Valentine’s Day sucked. Here you were at a beautiful resort by the beach and you were depressed. Your ex had dumped you two days earlier. He had told he had fallen for someone else, which really stung. The two of you had had been together for three years. You were gonna surprise him with this trip, but that went down the drain. By the time you broke up it was too late to cancel the reservation and you had paid good for money for this. You thought why not go and enjoy and forget him.

You sat in the lobby of the resort after being being told you have to be part of couple to stay. So you had two choices try and find a single person or go home. Suddenly you felt someone sit next to you on the couch. You looked over and saw a sad looking guy about your age.

“What’s up with you?” You asked.

“I can’t stay here....I’m not part of a couple.” He sighed. That gave you an idea. “Hey, not to be weird or anything...I know we just met and you don’t know my name....but I wanna stay and I need someone to be a couple with?”

The boy thought for a second, “Uhh...sure why not. We can friends.” You clapped with joy and held out your hand to shake, “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m here alone because my boyfriend dumped me two days ago.”

He shook your hand and said, “I am Heeseung. I got dumped four hours ago.” That took you for loop. You thought no one could be in worse situation than you but you were wrong. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. If you don’t mind me asking...what happened?”

“Well....I was getting ready to leave with my ex, Irene and she suddenly told me that she had been cheating on me.” You covered your mouth to hide your gasp. “That bitch.” You said. “I’m sorry Heeseung, but we shouldn’t be sad anymore. Let’s have some fun!” You and Heeseung headed to your room.

When you opened the door, you were wowed. The walls were a light easy on the eyes yellow. The room had a sweet tropical theme. There was one big king size bed. The bathroom was to your left. On the far side in the room there were two doors leaving to the balcony. You ran over and opened the doors, you were greeted by a breathtaking ocean view. You jumped on the bed. Heeseung followed along. “Let’s try and have the best time this week.” You said looking at him.

“What should we do first?” Heesung reached for some brochures on the night stand. “Ohhh, look they have swimming with dolphins!” You exclaimed. “Let’s gooo!!!” He yelled. You changed in your bathing suits and headed out.

When you got to the water, the instructor guided you both in. The moment you got in a dolphin came up to you and started swimming around you. You giggled and looked over at Heeseung. He had two snuggled around him. He smiled at you. The whole experience was so fun. The dolphins were soft and so sweet. One particular one kept following you so you named her Summer.

After a long day you and Heeseung headed back to your room. You flopped on the bed, “Wow...what a day.” Heeseung chuckled, “I know. You know what we should do....” “Order room service!” You both said in sync. “And...” you continued. “A MOVIE!!!!” You both yelled! While Heeseung ordered you went to take a shower. You had actually had fun today. Which a was first since your breakup. Before you had stayed in the room doing nothing but wonder what the other person had that you didn’t. But today you didn’t think about him or that at all.

The food arrived when Heeseung was still in the shower. You thanked room service. You went over to knock on the bathroom door to tell Heeseung the food was here. When all of a sudden the door opened and you faced with a wet haired and half naked Heeseung. You froze. “Uhh....foods here.” You whispered and slowly backed away. You hoped he didn’t see your growing red cheeks. The two of you enjoyed a delicious pizza while watching Ratatouille. At night fall you both got ready for bed. You crawled in trying not to take up a lot of space. Slowly you felt yourself fall into dreamland.

You woke up to a bright sunshine peaking through the curtains. You felt a heavy weight on your torso and saw a sound asleep Heeseung wrapped around you. You smiled. He was kinda cute when you look at him closely. Heeseung started stirring and woke up. He looked up at you and saw that he was cuddling you. His eyes widened and he got up and turned away red faced. “Sorry....I have the habit of hugging things is my sleep...” Heeseung scratched the back of his neck.

Today, You and Heeseung decided to spend the day at the beach. Just full relaxation. You grabbed a quick bite of breakfast at in resort restaurant. You packed up your things and headed out. Since you guys had the couple package, you got to lounge in the VIP area with a padded beach bed and an umbrella. It was early in the day so, there weren’t many people.

You laid down and padded the next to you to signal Heeseung to lay next to you. You looked at him, “Heeseung let’s get to know each other more.” “What do you wanna know?” “Anything.”

“Let’s see....My full name is Lee Heeseung. My birthday is October 15th, I have an older brother, ummm.....I love music. Back home I live with six idiots.....that’s about it. What about you?”

“My name is L/N Y/N, I currently go to college...I have younger annoying brother....my birthday is (Month/date)...I love animals...I want to become a vet.”

Heeseung looked at you with his big beautiful eyes as you talked. You could feel his gaze on you, but you were too shy to look back at him so you just looked at the water. “Y/N?” Heeseung whispered.

“Yeah?” You looked over.

“Can I ask you about your ex?”

You smiled, “Sure, only if you tell me about yours after?”

He nodded. You thought about where to start. “So my ex’s name is Leo. We were together for three years. We knew each other in high school and dated into college. I really loved him. I got this vacation for us as a Valentine’s Day gift. But we were at dinner two days before we were supposed to go and he said he was in love with someone else...and yeah” You felt you voice getting weaker. A tear rolled down your cheek. It hadn’t really hit how much you missed him. Heeseung reached over and wiped you tear.

You turned full to face him, “I just wonder you know...why did they other girl have that I don’t...? Am I ugly....am I not good enough....” Heeseung brought his finger to your lips, “Y/N, don’t talk like that. It’s not true. None of it is. I know how you feel though. I thought the whole way here after Irene said she cheated on me. But I realized that on her. I did nothing wrong. The same goes for you.”

You smiled as you wiped your tears. Heeseung opened his arms, “Come here.” You scootered closer and he wrapped his arms around you. You laid your head in his bare chests. You could feel his heart beating. You also felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest.

For the rest of the day you just hung out by the beach and cuddled. You talked about this and that. You felt like you knew Heeseung a lot more.

Over the next few days you two got much closer and you developed a crush. Heeseung was so different from Leo. With Heeseung it was easy to be happy and to be with him. With Leo you felt forced to be happy because he could constantly tell you that no one else would love you but him and that he was the best. Leo always tried to lower yourself confidence to make himself feel better. You didn’t realize this until you met Heeseung. Heeseung uplifted you and made you feel good.

Heeseung took you to an amusement park one day off the resort. You went on so many rides. Heeseung made the mistake of eating Cotten Candy and an ice cream cone before getting on a roller coaster and ended up throwing after. You won him a cute deer stuffed animal.

Heeseung didn’t realize it at first but he was falling for you too. You were so sweet and innocent. You made him feel loved. Irene ignored him constantly and only came to him when she needed him. He always felt like he didn’t fully have her love.

On the second to last day Heeseung wanted to plan a romantic dinner and confess to you officially. You guys were watching TV in the room, when you heard a knock at the door. You got up and opened it and saw a girl. “Uh...Hi? How can I help you?” You said. The girl was glaring at you. Heeseung looked over, “Irene..?” Your eyes widened. You turned to Heeseung and mouthed, “Irene?!?” As you turned back to her she slapped you straight in the face.

“IRENE, WHAT THE HELL?!?” Heeseung ran over to you to help you up. “I’m gonna leave you two alone.” You said quietly as you held you cheek.

Heeseung watched you leave. He turned to Irene, “What the hell?” Irene smiled at him “Seungie! I’ve missed you baby!” She grabbed his face. Heeseung backed away, “What are you doing here?” “Seungie, I made a big mistake. I let you go.” She pouted. “No, you cheated on me.” Heeseung glared. “Well now you can have me back and it looks like I saved you just in time. That tramp is ugly.” “Don’t you dare talk about Y/N that way! Now go, I don’t want you here.”

“I’ll go...to my room.” Irene sang. “How do you have a room? This is a couples only resort?” Heeseung asked confused. “I have my ways.” Irene smirked as she left.

You sat in the lobby with a ice pack on your face curtesy of the front desk. You saw Heeseung walking towards you. He gave you an I’m so sorry look. “Heeseung, I’m fine. I promise.” You said. “No you’re not, you have a red cheek. I don’t what to say. I have no idea why she’s here. But I wanna enjoy the rest on the week just the two of us.” He brought you into a hug.

As much as you tried to have a good rest of the day, it was difficult. Irene kept tagging along and clinging onto Heeseung and giving you death glares. Heeseung was also acting strange. He kept looking at the time and talking to the front desk.

That evening you got out of the shower and the room was empty. “Heeseung?” You called. You looked around and made your way to the balcony. When you opened the doors you gasped. You saw a candle lit dinner with a rose for two. Was this for you? You blushed and looked up to see the sunset. You look over on the beach and saw two figures. You squinted and saw it was Heeseung and Irene.

Her hands were in his face and his hands holding hers. You felt your heartbreak into a thousand pieces. You didn’t wanna see anymore. You went back in the room and started packing your things. You wiped tears after tears. Why were you even crying you thought. He wasn’t yours. He never was. You checked out from the resort and took the next bus home.

*

Heeseung was so nervous. Tonight was the night he was gonna confess and ask you to be his girlfriend. He had the hotel set up a beautiful dinner on the balcony. He was waiting for you to finish your shower. His phone beeped. It was a message from Irene telling him to meet her on the beach. Heeseung didn’t want to go but he knew she would keep bugging him until he went and he didn’t want her ruining this night.

“What do you want Irene?” He crossed his arms.

“What?” Irene smiled innocently. “I can’t just wanna see my man?” She took a step towards him but he stepped back.

“I’m not your man. You cheated on me and now you expect me to take you back..?”

“I just made a little mistake. I dumped the other guy once I realized how amazing you are.”

“No. You never truly love me. You used as your little puppy dog.”

Irene put her hands on his face and leaning for a kiss, but Heeseung grabbed her hands and yanked them off and walked away. When he got back he knocked on the bathroom door to see if you were done. When he didn’t get any reply, he opened the door to see an empty shower. Heeseung was so confused. Then he noticed your suitcase was gone. He ran to the reception desk.

“Excuse me, where is my girlfriend?” He asked frantically. The man look at him and said, “She checked out.”

Heeseung was so confused. Why would you leave him? What did he do? He thought you liked him back?

The manager called him, “Sir, your girlfriend left in tears.”

It took a moment for Heeseung to understand why you left upset. Then it hit him, you saw him and Irene together and thought it was all for her. He slumped down on the lobby couch and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He let the girl of dreams slip through his fingers.

*

When you arrived back at your apartment, your room mate Suzy greeted you with a hug. The whole bus ride home you had talked to her. “It’s gonna be okay.” She said as she rubbed your back. You stayed in your room for the rest of your trip time. You didn’t want to hear or remember Heeseung, so you blocked him.

You stayed in bed, you could barely handle one heartbreak. Now you were dealing with two. Suzy’s voice interrupted your thoughts, “Y/N, I made ramen. Do you want some?”

“No.” You replied.

“Y/N, I know you’re upset, but you need to eat something. I’m worried. You have classes and work tomorrow.”

She had a point, so you trudge out of your room.

*

Heeseung went home just as heartbroken. He tried texting and calling you but never got through. When he got back to his house, he saw his six friends giving him sympathy looks. Jungwon brought him in for a hug.

A few days later Heeseung walked over to the boys playing games in the living room.

“Hey guys, I need your help.” He sat down on the couch. Four out of the six boys looked at him. “NIKI STOP! PAUSE THE GAME!” Sunoo yelled. “HEHEHE.....never...” Niki cackled. Sunoo pushed him over.

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “What do you need help with?” Sunghoon looked at him.

“Well, I’ve been moping in room for the past three days and I realized that isn’t gonna help me. I want to find the girl and try and explain things to her.”

“Are you finally ready to us about her?” Jay asked. “All you've done so far is lock yourself in your room and refuse to talk to any of us." 

Heeseung nodded. He showed a picture of the two of you on his computer. “Her name is L/N Y/N.”

Jake gasped, “I know her, she’s in my animal science class!”

Heeseung took Jake’s shoulders shook him, “Do you have her number?!?”

“N-nOoO, but stoOoOp shhakking meEE.”

“Oh sorry, what do you know about her?”

Jake thought, “Oh, she told me she works at the café across from campus.”

That was all Heeseung needed to hear to send him sprinting out the door.

*

You were back at work as usual. Working at least help you get your mind off of Heeseung for a little bit. “Hi, what can I get for you?” You asked logging into the system. “Can we talk?” You froze. That was the voice on him. You didn’t want to face him. So you kept looking at screen, “What can I get you?” “Y/N, I know you know it’s me, please talk to me.” Heeseung pleaded. Suzy nudged you from behind and whispered, “Let him explain.”

You sighed and took off you apron and walked around from behind the counter. “Let’s go outside.” You said.

The two of you sat on the grass in the park next to the café. You look at Heeseung, “What?”

“Y/N....why did you leave?”

“Because the whole thing was big mistake. We should have just gone home in the first place.” You avoided his eyes. He put his hand under your chin and lifted your head so he could see your eyes. “Y/N, I know you felt something. So did I.” He took your hands in his, “What you think you saw wasn’t true. That night where you saw the dinner, that was for you. I was gonna confess.” You looked at Heeseung confused, “Then why were you at the beach with Irene?” “She had texted me earlier and I wanted her to get off my back so I could have a perfect night with you.” You groaned of embarrassment and pulled your hands away to cover your face, “Oh my gosh.....”

“Hey, hey” Heeseung pulled closer, he was so close you could feel his breath on your nose. You closed your eyes and felt his soft gentle lips on yours.

Who knew one Valentine’s Day could everything turn around.

[writernomore]

Two sides of the same coin.

Alright! So this is how it’s gonna go, I thought of this little somewhat scenario in my head with an Oc of mine, Where she’s like a long lost sister of Harry Potter where there is this prophecy about twins being separated and brought back together when the situation goes dire.

Summary: Y/n Brighton adopted daughter of a Muggle family has been accepted into Hogwarts a school for wizards and witches has lived a peaceful life before going to Hogwarts, all of that changes when she is accepted the same year as the infamous Harry Potter.

How did your life get to this point?

Your wondering Y/n what do you mean?

Well I’ll tell, I was living quite a normal boring life that held the same routine and would only switch up time to time.

It all changed when I had received a letter, It was weird cause my parents were talking about me going to a private school, the schools name was Hogwarts it was really peculiar because I had never heard of it, and so did my parents, so we wrote back hoping to receive an explanation, we asked and we received.

Hogwarts was a school for young wizards and witches being taught magic, I wasn’t buying it but then weird stuff happened to me I when I would be scared or angry.

I then decided to learn what I can, buying books that contained things that I needed to know about magic, famous wizards and witches, and since I was adopted my biological parents were probably magical like me.

Excitedly going to Diagon alley to buy what I needed with my Family alongside with me, fully supporting me, My older brothers calling me cool and asking if I could do cool tricks like the wizards in games and movies did, My little siblings looking up to me and proud for having a witch for a sister.

There was also news that spread really fast through out the wizarding world about the boy who lived, Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, was only a baby when Voldemort or people call him you-know-who but you really didn’t see the point by calling him that, decided to kill Harry and his family, Harry’s parents were murdered but Harry survived but didn’t leave unscathed, He had a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

I don’t know if that was pure coincidence but you also had a scar in a shape of a star on the side of your neck.

Your Mother had told you before hand to be careful because she heard that Voldemort was only gone for a while and we wouldn’t know when or if he’d come back, so you promised your Mother you would write to her updating your situation in Hogwarts every weekend, knowing you would stay in dorms at school.

Your parents cried when they saw you in your school uniform and robes at  Madam Malkin's Robes, your brothers bothering them if they could try on the uniform to, causing you to giggle.

It was then you were there at King’s cross station, parked at the front and getting your luggage and your owl out of the car with the help of your siblings and Father while Mother carried your new born Baby brother and sister.

You asked as how you were going to get on to platform 9 and 3/4 before hand, You and your whole family running at the wall between platform 9 and 10.

The train was magnificent, after exchanging goodbye’s and kisses your luggage was placed into the train and you were now finding a compartment to sit in, it was all full.

You were passing by a compartment when you heard a familliar name.

“Holy Cricket you must be Harry Potter!” You heard a girls voice.

“I’m Hermione Granger and...you are?”

“Um, Ronald Weasley” “Pleasure”

You shook your head and just continued to walk around finding a place to sit for a while and change into your uniform and robes.

The train had stop meaning you were at the station, going outside seeing a giant bearded man approached the station holding a lamp calling the first years to him, being you who had to behave because her parents weren’t around and clearly not knowing anyone, you obeyed and followed the 8 foot giant.

The travel going to Hogwarts was fascinating travelling by boat with four people each in it.

Then there you stood, getting out of the boat being presented in front of a large castle, Holy.

You were guaranteed you were going to get lost, and this was no mall, this was going to be the school you would be studying in for 7 years, they definitely would be having a map lying around, right? Like the castle was massive! 

The inside was fascinating in itself, It looked so grand ascending at the staircase you were met with a woman with Her hair tide up into a neat bun wearing a green robe and glasses.

She introduces herself to be one of the professors in Hogwarts, Professor Mcgonagall and that we would be sorted into houses that would be like our families, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.

She leaves us there for a while when this blonde kid speaks,

“So it’s true what they’re saying in the train, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts” Others start whispering to each other while you on the other side just wanna get sorted and sleep, standing for a while having an effect on you.

“I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy” Ron snorts “You think my name is funny do you? Red Hair, Freckles, and a hand me down robe, you must be a Weasley” Draco said while he looked Ron up and Down “You see some wizarding families are more well off then others, you don’t want to be making friends with the wrong sort” “I think I can tell the wrong sort myself thank you” Draco surprised looked at Harry while other children snickering from behind, While you get Hangry wouldn’t care less.

The Professor Mcgonagall comes back to lead us to the Great hall where there were other students seated at four different tables in different colored robes assuming that’s why they had to sort us in houses.

You opened you eyes and looked up at the ceiling widening in awe on how beautiful it looked, the night sky on the ceiling of the hall, remembering it wasn’t real and that it was made to look like that in A Hogwarts History.

The first years stopped walking and a four legged stool was placed at the front where the teachers and students could see you being sorted into your house, you were not a social lot, or nor you were unsocial you just didn’t like the feeling of many eyes staring at you.

Professor Mcgonagall rolled out a scroll that had a list of names, students were called and seated on the stool and the sorting hat would be sorted into their houses.

Your name was called; Y/n Brighton.

Y/n sat down on the stool and tried to shake off the feeling of eyes watching her when the hat landed on her head and covered her eyes she could finally be sorted into a house and get this thing over with to stop the feeling of everyone's eyes boring into her.

"Ah..Yes.. Difficult very Difficult there's so much potential and a mystery waiting to be solved of your origins.." origins? You thought wondering what the hat meant by that.

"You are cunning, intelligent creative too..you could do pleanty of wonders better it would be.."

The hat stalls for a while deciding what House to sort you in, You just wanted to be sorted into a house any house, you just wanted to get down form there, nothing bad will happen anyways if you were sorted into a unexpected house, "SLYTHERIN!" The sorting hat shouts, the Slytherin table bustling having a new member on their side, the sorting hat was taken off your head and you jumped off the stool and walked to the Slytherin table.

You sat down and were still hanging onto what the sorting hat meant by ‘ a mystery waiting to be solved of your origins’  What did he mean? is it cause I’m adopted?

After the sorting ceremony and a speech we all went to eat, I was waiting for this I was starving the food was good and delicious It was like home.

*-* 

You were completely lost!

It was surely a stupid idea but you just followed the person in front of you, hoping you would get to where you were going.

And as stupid as it may seem it worked? You got to potions class and coincidently sat next to famous Harry Potter.

You got out your book and turned to the page Professor instructed the class to turn to and began discussing.

Next to you Harry was writing down stuff, you put your hand on top of his a signal for him to stop writing, and he did.

He looked up at you confused then you shaked your head and pointed at Snape’s direction, he looked at him and just put his quill down, you retreating your hand to listen in on the lecture.

Let’s just say you saved him one by telling him to stop writing.

It was time for Broom flight class, and boy this was going to be terrifying.

Don’t get me wrong flying brooms sounds cool and all but not when you were afraid of falling of the broom and hitting your head and forgetting who you are and who your family were and-

Okay! No overthinking! Overthinking is bad it restricts you in doing things properly...

There you were skillfully flying on your broom doing loopty loops with some struggles with your grip on the broom, it was like the broom had a mind of it’s own but you were still holding on.

No-one was clearly paying attention cause they were watching Harry getting Neville’s remembrall back.

He got it back, yes, But he was called by Professor Mcgonagall.

You went back down so you wouldn’t be scolded, a kid did complimented your little tricks, you thanked them.

It would be hard to make such an image if you were in the same year as Harry Potter.

So you took the chance of just doing well with your new subjects and learn and understand as much as you can.

Your Y/n Brighton after all!

Or where you?

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

You don’t know how excited I am to do this series I’ve had this idea for a while now and I just want to hope you guys will like this series, yes a series, for how long? I do not know, Have I already thought who would be Y/n’s love interest? Yes and there will be no love interest cause Y/n is an independent queen who always speaks her mind and will never be shut up.

Also I would like to think reader would look like Lily and has red hair but has James eyes, Like Harry looking like his Father but has his Mothers eyes, also I guess I’ll be putting stuff I learnt about when I started reading the Harry Potter books, I haven’t finished but it’s better than not being able to read it yet and I had to make reader be sorted into Slytherin cause #Normalizesiblingsindifferenthouses.

[plumeriaheart]

Cosplay Surprise [Leviathan/F!Reader]

This is the third(???) smut fic I’ve written and I still feel awkward about it rip... But also, Levi is a precious boy!!! Pls I just wanna make him flustered for days and shower him in love and affection!!!

FANDOM: Obey Me!

RATING: smut with some fluffy undertones~ 

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

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.

Perhaps you had been in over your head when you ordered the costume and wig from Akuzon, but when the packages arrive at your doorstep, you feel like you have to go through with it. What's the worst thing that could happen? Leviathan would call you a normie, but that's nothing new. You don't think he'd be mad at you for trying to cosplay one of his favourite idols – at least you hope he wouldn't be. As long as the cosplay doesn't look cheap, you should be fine, right? Now it's just a matter of trying the costume on and making sure you look as similar to Ruri-chan as possible.

You're happy to find that both the costume and the wig seem to be of acceptable quality; Leviathan would have your head if you dared to wear a cheap costume of his beloved Ruri-chan. The fabric envelopes you in a soft hug, complimenting your best features. You don't recognise yourself in the mirror at first, so unusual does the long blonde hair and the green outfit look on you – but you find that it doesn't look bad, per se.

Grabbing your D.D.D., you scroll through your contacts and select Leviathan, sending him a text to ask whether you could come over to his room right now. You don't expect him to reply straight away, knowing that he might be busy with one of his games, and in the meantime, you could see if you could put on some make-up to make the cosplay perfect. But before you can even grab your make-up bag, your D.D.D. rings, and upon glancing at the screen you see one text message from Leviathan.

Leviachan: Perfect timing, I could use your help with some co-op dungeons. The door's unlocked :thumbsup:

His words bring a smile to your face, imagining what kind of reactions you'd get from him. You're not against playing games with him, but if he reacts to your cosplay the way you want him to, there would be something more important to do.

You listen at the door to hear if anybody is out and about before you leave your room, quickly making your way to your boyfriend's room. You knock to signal you're there, but don't wait for a response – he did say his door was unlocked. In true Leviathan fashion, he doesn't turn around right away to greet you, mumbling a quick 'Hey' as he's executing something that looks like a complicated combat combo. You remain by the door for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath and finally going to join the demon by his desk.

Your eyes quietly follow his character on the screen, watching as he decimates a group of goblins – he must be nearing the final boss of this dungeon, and you know better than to interrupt him during an important battle like that. It doesn't bother you, you enjoy watching him play. Watching him do something that makes him as happy and as focused as this warms your heart, and though you came to his room with less pure intentions, you don't mind waiting if he looks this into it. You may also be curious to see how long it takes for him to notice the way you look.

"This boss fight shouldn't take long. I managed to get my hands on the legendary sword of ruination – it has a drop rate of 0.1 percent! Isn't it awesome?! The cursed flame enchantment should be strong enough to one hit regular enemies, but this boss here is special! He casts a drain health curse on you when you enter his dungeon and to lift it you have to defeat him. If you can't defeat him and have to leave so you can level up first, the curse is gonna stay on you! lol I bet so many noobs got killed by this boss when it's SO easy once you think about it!"

His eyes are glued to the screen as he enters what seems to be the final stage of the dungeon, the music picking up in pace and a brief cutscene commences. Something that looks like a giant mutated version of the goblins he fought before appears, clad in spiked armour and wielding a giant axe which seems to be emitting green smoke. Before you know it, you find your own eyes glued to the screen, rooting for your boyfriend to win the challenge ahead of him. He furrows his brows as he smashes the keys more aggressively, then finally lets out a sigh of relief when the boss goes down in one final move. He's about to turn his head and show you a brilliant smile when he suddenly freezes – finally, he notices what you look like right now.

"R-Ru-Ruri-chan?!" He squeals, eyes wide open and cheeks burning red. As much as he tries to hide his blush behind his hand, it's still visible to you. His eyes flit from your hair down to your face, and finally to your outfit. He's not sure where he's supposed to look, there's so much to take in.

"Do you like it, Leviachan?" You ask in a singsong voice, putting on a sweet smile and tilting your head to the side. The demon lets out a whimper, unable to form any words. "I thought I could make you happy by cosplaying as Ruri-chan..." As you come closer, he reacts by leaning back. His eyes roam your figure, taking in every detail of your appearance and you believe you've never seen him blush so aggressively. He looks at you with a mixture of disbelief, shyness, and even lust.

Would you really do something like that for someone like him? He can't believe it, and for a few seconds, he just keeps blinking, afraid he might wake up and find his room void of you. But you're sitting in front of him, looking at him with an uncertain smile. Quick, he has to say something before you get the wrong idea!

"R-really? For… For me?" The words come out more unsteady than he wanted them to, and he curses himself mentally. But then you give him a reassuring smile, a nod, and he's over the moon. In one quick motion, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Leviathan can't find the words to describe how touched he is, but he's certain you can feel his heartbeat racing against your chest. Hell, he'd be surprised if you couldn't hear it at this rate.

You don't make any attempts to move, instead combing your fingers through his hair reassuringly. There is no denying that you enjoy the way he clings to you as if he had to make sure that you're real, that you're his.

"Leviachan?" You hum into his ear, taking pleasure from the way he shivers.

"Y-Yes?" His grip on you only tightens, head nuzzled further against your body.

"You can do more than just hug me, you know?" A chuckle escapes you as he looks up at you, eyes glassy from how flustered he is. Never in a million years would he have thought… Sure, there had been times where he fantasised about his favourite idol, but… Ugh, you're just too good for him! But you're here, in his arms, and the way you smile at him makes his heart flutter – a sudden wave of courage (and maybe desperate need) washes over him before his lips into yours. His kiss is clumsy, nervous and eager, but you've come to love the way his lips feel against yours. When you let your tongue caress his lower lip, he responds with an inevitable moan, allowing your tongue to meet his in a tender dance.

The kiss grows more forceful as he pulls you on his lap, and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core. Grinding your hips against his crotch, you feel his chest vibrate as he groans against your mouth, and, with one hand gently placed behind your head, he pulls you closer against him. His other hand travels down to your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh. The sudden intensity of the kiss awakens butterflies in your stomach, your soft moans swallowed by his hungry lips.

He only breaks away to look at your face, to see your flushed cheeks and your lips parted with longing – his own face mirroring your expression perfectly.

"I'm all yours today, Levi," an almost plea falls from your lips, dripping with affection and lust. The tips of his ears tinged a dark shade of red, he nods to himself as if to calm himself down. Any attempt to calm down right now would be futile, you think, but it seems to do the job for him as his lips latch onto the soft skin of your neck, gently nibbling on it before suckling on it. A hot sensation begins to spread from the place where his lips connect with your skin, and you can tell that he'll be leaving a mark on your skin. As if only realising this now, the demon licks along your soft skin, soothing the red spot he created.

"I-Is this… okay?" Levi's voice is laced with uncertainty, and he barely allows his lips to graze your shoulder while awaiting your response.

"Of course it is, Levi – I think it's exciting, seeing you this needy." Your words are accompanied by a slight giggle, running one of your hands down his chest ever so slowly. The way your fingertips create the slightest sensation against his skin lets him crave you more, and when you begin to unzip his pants, he lets out an unholy moan.

"W-Wait..." He breathes, and you do as he says, looking at him with curiosity in your eyes. "Can you… sit on my desk?" When he raises his gaze to meet yours, you can tell how much self-control it took for him to ask this, and who are you to deny him? You meet his lips in a quick peck before you get up, hiking the skirt up at your waist as you sit down on his desk. You lean back a little, watching him get up and placing both of his hands by your hips, his face mere inches away from yours. He gulps, running his left hand over your thigh and inching closer to your core.

You loop your arms behind his neck to keep him close, eyes glued to his face as his confidence begins to grow. With an excited smile, he allows his fingers to run along your panties, and another blush rushes to his cheeks when you let out a content sigh. His fingertips begin to circle your clit through the fabric, and you can hear him take in a sharp breath when he feels your panties growing damp.

"Does… that feel good, MC?" The demon asks, trying out different pressures to see which one can coax out the sweetest reaction from you.

"Do you even have to ask? I love when you touch me, Levi – please, keep going," you whisper, shutting your eyes as you allow the pleasure to run course your body. Your words are music to his ears. With his right hand, he lifts your chin to kiss you; almost getting lost in the moment when you part your lips for him instantly. But you seem to be okay with him being more adventurous today, and so he begins to trail further kisses down your clothed body. He kneels, tugging at your panties, awkwardly fumbling with them before he manages to pull them further down. When his lips connect with your thighs, you've all but forgotten that, focusing instead on the way his mouth inches closer to your aching lips.

He doesn't waste any time and begins lapping at your pussy, allowing himself to savour your taste with every stroke of his tongue. It doesn't take long for your moans to fill his room, along with the lewd sounds of him sloppily licking your pussy. Levi shifts between your legs and before you know it, he's placed your thighs over his shoulders, hugging you closer. His tongue explores your folds with fervour, your essence coating his mouth and chin in the process. It reminds him that you're his, that no one else can taste you nor make you feel this way, and his chest swells with pride. As you tip your head back in pleasure, you run your fingers through his hair, tugging at it and urging him to go faster. Hyper-aware of your needy touches, Levi gives in to your desire.

When he lets out a shuddery moan, you feel it reverberate through your entire body. He goes from eagerly running his tongue along your slit to sucking on your clit, enveloping the sensitive nub with his lips. A jolt of electricity runs through you when he clumsily grazes his teeth against your swollen clit, a choked moan escaping from your lips. Searing heat grows within your body, pooling at your core, and the demon can tell by the way your hips try to buck against his face.

"L-Levi, I'm… ahh, so close," you whine in between moans, and the way you say his name, dripping with pleasure, makes him shudder once more. Spurned on by your involuntary reactions to his tongue's administrations, he finds the confidence to slip his tongue inside of your heat. You arch your back as his muscle teases your core, feeling your walls begin to clench as the unmistakable wave of your impending climax crashes over you. Your fingers curl in his hair when your orgasm crashes down on you, a string of curses falling from your lips. Even through your orgasm, Levi keeps licking at your pussy, driving you to a point of pleasure and ecstasy that makes your vision go blank for a couple of seconds. It's only when the sensation becomes too much that you attempt to clench your legs together, that he stops and looks up at you, admiring the mess that you have become thanks to him.

You are painfully aware that the only sound filling the room is your ragged breathing, but it takes you a few moments to catch your breath. When you look down at Leviathan, you notice his mesmerised gaze – and the fact that he's stroking his cock for you, now freed from the confines of his pants.

"Can… Can you keep your clothes on for… for the next part?" He asks you as he slowly gets up, crimson tingeing his cheeks. Your eyes wander from his dishevelled hair down to his glistening lips, taking note of the way he hungrily licks them, before you nod. Still dazed, he takes your hands and helps you get up, supporting your wobbly legs by swooping you up in his arms. It's easy to forget how powerful Levi really is when he shuts himself in his room most days, his shy nature not doing him many favours in that aspect. But he is the third-born for a reason, you think as you look up at his face.

Gently, he places you down on the ground before he begins grabbing pillows and blankets from the bathtub. He throws them on the ground, arranging them in a way that he believes is comfortable for you. You can't tear your eyes off of him, enthralled by his appearance. You know that he doesn't think much of his looks, belittling himself more often than not, but you think that if he could see himself through your eyes right now, he'd disagree. Such a vulgar image it is, and yet you can't think of any other word than beautiful to describe him.

"W-Why are you looking at me like that…? Do you… Do you not want to go further?" His question snaps you out of your thoughts, a flash of concern washing over his face, and you shake your head right away – you feel yourself aching for his cock to fill you up, a need throbbing deep within your core. The demon looks relieved at your response, and his abashed smile makes your heart skip a beat. Grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie, you pull him closer and your lips crash into his. You can taste your own essence as your tongue slips inside of his mouth, coaxing a muffled moan out of him.

It's all the encouragement he needs as he gently pushes you down, your own hands roaming down his chest and tugging at his hoodie. He gets your hint, he really does, but Levi doesn't seem to be able to tear himself away from you long enough to remove the hoodie. His cock is already aligned at your pussy, the tip of it prodding at your entrance, but despite his need for you, he seems to drown in your kiss instead. There's a hunger in his kiss that takes you by surprise, so unexpected from the usually submissive demon. When your fingers find his length and wrap around him, his entire body shivers. With slow motions, you begin to pump his cock, the heat of it teasing your slit. His hips move intact with your hand without entering you just yet, eliciting a deep growl from the back of his throat. Levi only breaks the kiss to look at you, eyes searching for permission.

"Take off your hoodie and you can fuck me," you say breathlessly, and with a small whimper, he complies. You let your eyes wander his pale skin, watching the way his breath catches in his chest as you work his cock faster, a red flush of passion adorning his fair skin. His gaze finds yours once more, asking for permission and when you finally nod, letting go of his cock, he buries himself inside of you with one swift motion.

The moan falling from your lips fills the entire room, followed by many more as the demon begins to thrust into you at a frantic pace. His strokes are quick and sloppy, hitting all the right spots to make you arch your back in pleasure. With every thrust inside you, you feel your mind growing hazy with lust once more, and the only thing on your mind is him. Levi's eyes remain on you as he fucks you, taking in the way your lips part, the way your tits bounce under your clothes and the way your eyes roll back when his cock hits your sweetest spots.

He's not new to the way your body reacts to him and vice versa, but seeing you in that costume is doing sinful things to him. Once more, he finds himself picking up the speed before he leans down, resting both of his hands next to your head while his face hovers above yours. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, moaning his name against his lips.

It's enough for him to lose control of himself entirely, pounding into you as your moans grow in volume. You can feel his climax coming on by the way his thrusts become even more frantic, slamming his cock into you rougher than before, leaving your legs trembling.

His cock twitches inside of you before his hot seed floods your pussy, a surge of heat washing over you. Though his movements slow, he keeps rocking his hips into yours, panting heavily.

"Ahh, s-shit shit, s-sorry," Levi whimpers when his movements come to a halt. You're still breathing heavily, looking up at him with a questioning expression on your face. "You… You d-didn't… I-I mean, was that… was that enough?" You realise that he's apologising for coming before you could, and with how flustered and apologetic he looks, you cannot help but giggle. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he pouts a little, about to protest when you cup his cheeks in your hands.

"Levi, listen to me, okay? You're always enough for me. No one else can make me feel this good, and no one else can make my knees weak in more than just one way." Your words make him whimper again, his lips desperately pressing against yours once more until you're out of breath.

"I-I love you so… so much, MC!" Levi stammers, squeezing his eyes shut so you don't see him tearing up over his emotions.

"More than Ruri-chan?" You hum teasingly, not expecting any answer as you give him a quick kiss.

"Y-YES!" He almost shouts, only realising how loud his words were after they left his mouth. "S-Sorry," he adds, more quietly this time. How can he make such a fool out of himself when you're beneath him, looking like the epitome of beauty and passion?! Not too mention, he's still inside of you and – oh god, he's so embarrassed! The only thing stopping him from crawling into a hole to mope is the way you look at him, so much affection in your gaze that warms his heart.

"I love you, too, Leviachan~" You hum with a smile, and all his anxieties seem to wash away just like that. How…?

"I know this wasn't the type of co-op battle you had in mind when you texted me earlier, but… maybe we should go for another round – to grind some exp, you know?"

You can't just say those things without a warning! How is his heart supposed to handle you when you say those things, looking like that!?

His immediate response is a whimper before he presses his lips against yours once more. This time, he's going to complete all of the requirements for this quest.

A/N: I definitely feel like I could’ve done more with the cosplay aspect of this fic, but also, I don’t even know what Ruri rly looks like so who knows?? 

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 3)

A/N: Thank you so much for the support so far! This is the first fic I’ve posted anywhere in a long time. I’m totally down to do any requests! There are some season 6 spoilers in this part so SPOILER Alert!! xoxo R

tw: none! just more fluffiness

word count: 2444

(part 1) (part 2) 

masterlist

The third envelope, which was labeled #2, was much thicker than the first two. Spencer held it in his hands for a while, just tracing over where you wrote #2. He always made fun of you for writing it like a kindergarten teacher. 

“Adults make a two with the loop at the bottom,” He would joke any time you had to write it. 

“Good thing I’m not an adult,” You’d reply. 

He smiled at the memory. That’s one of the reasons he fell in love with you. You were so incredibly intelligent but also so clueless at the same time. You were definitely book smart. But common knowledge and sense? Not much of that in your pretty head. He liked that though; it meant you didn’t take yourself too seriously. You were down to Earth and kept him there with you, a trait he had to learn as he grew older. He didn’t even realize you taught him so much; he was always too busy trying to teach you. 

Ripping open #2 he started to read, a warm fuzzy feeling filling his chest: 

“Item 2 is a ticket to the Korean Film festival we went to together. So take it out and admire how bent and worn it is. I was so nervous that day I folded it into tiny pieces in my pocket just so my hands had something to do.”

He took it out of the plastic bag you put it in. It really was bent and worn, so much so you could barely read the name and date, July 7. 

“That was our first official date, though we had a lot of time to bond between November 17 and that day. Emily died. Well, not really, but we thought she did. We’d take turns crying on the other’s shoulder. Some days I’d show up at yours and you’d immediately know that I just needed you to be strong for me. I’d often return the favor. We were still just friends then, but our pain bonded us in ways no one else really understood. We get each other, Spence, or at one point in our lives we did. I’m not so sure I understand you anymore, at least not like I used to.  Sometimes I’d come over and we wouldn’t cry. You’d teach me chess and card games. But usually we would cry, and that was okay. 

That was the start of our platonic sleepovers. Do you remember our first one? The night I cried myself to sleep on your couch and instead of kicking me out you put a blanket over me. You thought I was out cold, but I felt you tuck it around me, your hands lingering for a second too long. For the next few weeks we did that when we didn’t have cases. We’d talk about Em and life and everything and cry, and one of us would crash on the other’s couch. Then, if Hotch didn’t send the bat signal for us, we’d get coffee and pancakes the following morning at IHOP. It became a sweet tradition, born out of one of the darkest times in my life. You always took me at my most vulnerable, loved me, and kept me safe. I don’t think I ever really thanked you for that. So, thank you. 

Everyone else didn’t think they were platonic. I mean if I were them I wouldn’t have thought we were ‘just friends’ either. The fact that we started carpooling together after our sleepovers probably didn’t help our case. I remember one time I brought you to work with me after an IHOP blueberry pancake breakfast. Rossi ran into us in the elevator and commented that you had on the same exact suit as the day before and that we had been coming to work together a lot lately. We both blushed profusely; we knew what his side eye meant.  It’s funny how everyone else knew we loved each other except us. Some profilers we are. 

Okay so back to the ticket. Emily’s loss made me look at life differently. Before she died, I confided in her how I felt. She’s the closest thing to a best friend I ever had. Being her usual supportive self, she told me to go for it. That you felt the same about me. That we’d be perfect for each other. That you adored me. I desperately wanted her to be right, so I selfishly believed her. 

When she left, I realized how quickly we can lose each other. And her support of us told me what I needed to do. In some weird way it felt like I was doing her justice by pursuing you. I decided I wasn’t going to wait and risk losing you too. So I bought tickets to the Korean film festival in Georgetown you talked about for weeks, even though I know zero Korean. I walked up to you and flashed two tickets. The look on your face is one I’ll never forget. Your eyes lit up and you smiled bigger than I had seen in months. You (thankfully) agreed to go with me. 

“I didn’t know you knew Korean,” You said as I drove us there. (I sneakily put on Stacy’s Mom then too, but I don’t think you realized)”

He chuckled. He most definitely did notice that, but what you didn’t notice was how he looked at you as you mumbled the lyrics to yourself. It was dusk and the street lights illuminated your face just so. It occurred to him then that he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than you in that moment, and probably never would again. 

Spencer put the ticket and letter down on the table and got up to pace again. He knows exactly how this story ends; he wrote it with you. And in this story he’s the villain. 

His stomach twisted up in knots. He rushed back to the table to grab the letter, but his eyes were too bleary with tears to read any of the words. Truthfully, he didn’t want to read them. He wasn’t ready to relive it yet. He wasn’t ready to feel it, because up until now he still got to see you and talk to you. He was able to protect you, just like he had all those nights when you cried in his arms. 

He blinked forcefully a few times, forcing his vision to clear enough to keep going.  

“I told you I didn’t know Korean. All I know is enough Spanish to get myself through cases. You smiled at that. 

“Then why did you want to come?” You asked me. 

“Because you wanted to come.” My answer was honest. I love so many things I never thought I would because of you, Spence. You didn’t answer me; the smile on your face was answer enough. Naturally, I got even more nervous. 

“So since there are no subtitles will you translate for me as it happens?” I asked; you nodded. 

We were strolling around the park the festival was at. It was warm out but you still had on pants and a dress shirt. I don’t know how you did that. I had on a dress and was still sweating. We got there early and were waiting for the first movie to start. 

“You know, (Y/N), 1.2 million Americans speak Korean. Korean culture is becoming a vibrant subculture in America. The success of things like anime, Korean Dramas and Korean pop music are just going to add to that number.”

That’s when I looked at you. Your hair had gotten a little longer, but it was cute. Looking back, every hair you’ve ever had was cute. I miss running my hands through it to mess it up. Your eyes were trained on the people milling around us, and mine were on you. I love when you spew out stats. Contrary to popular belief, smart IS sexy. But anyways, your eyes looked so brown and reflected the lights so beautifully. I’ll miss staring into them and getting lost. I once told you I never liked the color brown until I saw your eyes. That’s still true. 

“But like 50 million speak Spanish. So I think my tenth grade skills are more applicable,” I joked. 

“It’s actually 41 million and I agree. Spanish is a very important language to know. But only a tenth grade level? Say something in Spanish.”

“Tú y yo va a ver una película,” I said in the worst Spanish accent ever. You laughed and said some beautiful Korean like it was nothing. I grabbed your hand. You flinched and looked at me confused. I gave it a reassuring squeeze and ran my thumb across the parts of your hand I could reach. That’s when you realized this was a “date” date and not a friend date. I could almost immediately see the red creep up your cheeks. 

We found a place to sit and the movie started. It was called The Housemaid. And true to your word you translated the whole thing for me, much to the dismay of everyone around us. I found myself nestled into your side with your arm around me. You were whispering everything in my ear. Your breath tickled my neck and sent a chill down my spine. Truthfully, I missed half of what you said because I was too focused on not losing my shit. Here you were, the guy I was in love with, arm around me whispering sweet foreign words in my ear. Anyone would melt instantly. 

We got through two and a half movies that night. I don’t remember the other two—“

“Sisters on the Road and A Frozen Flower!” Spencer spoke out loud then, as if you could hear him. When he realized you definitely couldn’t hear him because you were in Seattle, and definitely not in his apartment, he groaned and kept reading. 

“We had already watched like four hours of movies and I was getting hungry. So, we stopped and got ice cream. I scolded you for getting a large when we both know you can’t have dairy, to which you just shrugged and said, “Dairy allergies are the most common in the world. 65% of the population has issues with lactose. You can’t expect 4,485,000,000 people to not eat ice cream, especially when it’s delicious.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Well don’t come crying to me when your tummy hurts later.”

“Oh I most definitely will be coming and crying to you.”

We walked like that for a while, hand in hand, until the chill of the night got to us. We made our way back to my car and you opened the door for me like a gentleman. I wanted to invite you back to my place, but I thought that might give the wrong impression for a first date. So instead I drove you home and you didn’t invite me in. I was a little hurt, honestly. I have been in your apartment more times than I can count, so what was one more? It’s okay though. You made up for it. Remember? 

We were sitting on the side of the street and you didn’t get out of the car yet. The windows were down and the radio was off. We listened to the sound of crickets and passing cars as we enjoyed each other’s company in a different way than we ever had before. 

“It’s almost midnight, get some sleep. Your brain needs rest after all that translating.” 

“Your brain doesn’t rest when you sleep, your body does,” You said and turned to me. Our faces were probably only six inches apart. Your breath was hot on my cheeks and you kept doing that damn tongue thing. 

“But you need some sleep (Y/N). You don’t sleep well.”

“I sleep well on your couch,” I said and you smiled. The space between us had gotten much much smaller. 

I put my hand on your cheek and felt the slight stubble there. You made the first move Spence. All I did was hold your face, you’re the one who closed the gap. 

That was one of the best kisses of my life. It lasted maybe ten seconds, but it was ten seconds that took years to get to. It was all that longing and pining and pent up feelings released at once. Nothing in the world is as special as kissing you, Spencer Reid. 

That next Monday we got shit from the team. Garcia is such a blabbermouth. Derek and Rossi made fun of us like middle schoolers. Hotch gave us that big bad ‘one of you will have to leave speech’. Deep down they were all happy for us. We all needed something to be happy about. And we were happy Spence, so so happy. Until we weren’t. 

So take this bent up ticket and admire it again before placing the memory of our first date on a shelf in the corner of your mind that will get dusty. I hope someday you’ll brush it off and relive it. 

There’s a Korean proverb I learned from you, that means: ‘At the end of hardship comes happiness.’ 

I hope that’s true.

xo,

YN”

Spencer put the letter down and picked up the ticket. He walked across the living room to a corkboard on the wall. There he took a pushpin and fastened the ticket to the board. It was surrounded by pictures of everyone he loves. Group pictures, his mom, Henry, pictures of the two of you. But in the center of it all was that ticket that had been so bent up because of how nervous you were for your date. He never told you how nervous he was then too. He had to make sure he wasn’t stuttering through the translations. Your close proximity to him, the smell of your perfume, and warmth of your body pressed against him made it hard to think. He held your hand so tightly that night because he thought that maybe you wouldn’t notice how badly they were shaking. He only got up the nerve to kiss you because when you weren’t looking he texted Derek, and he told him he had to. He remembered how his heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest when he closed the gap, how you sighed into him, how you sucked on his lower lip ever so slightly. You were right, nothing is quite like kissing the love of your life. It’s like every kiss you ever had before that kiss, the kiss, didn’t count. It’s the only kiss that matters. 

He admired the ticket one last time, before reaching in to grab envelope #3. 

Part 4!

tags: @l0ve-0f-my-life​

- if you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know! 

[muchadoaboutbucky]

Red Carpet Man (oneshot)

Red carpets are definitely not Bucky’s thing… but this one’s a little more rewarding than usual.

PAIRING: Bucky x Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: anxiety (public situation), smut

NOTE: Edited by @crispychrissy​. Do not save or repost my work. 18+ only! Remember to support indigenous creators (I’m one of them) by boosting our work and buying directly from our stores and online shops!

⭒ become a patron for just $3 ⭒

Bucky doesn’t know how you do it. Walking in front of the cameras, flashing lights, screaming fans and reporters—you do it like it’s nothing, but he can barely bring himself to force a smile and maybe stutter a few rambling sentences to the recording devices stuck in his face. 

He can already hear the bustle of people outside, car horns honking impatiently for people crowding the street to get out of the way, the beat of helicopter blades soaring overhead, news outlets desperate to be the first to catch glimpses of the famed Avengers...

He’s only been in Los Angeles for a day and he already doesn’t like it. 

You’re at the mirror, applying a favorite lipstick that always gets him riled up. He doesn’t know why he likes the color red on you so much, but this little splash of red against creamy olive skin goes perfectly with the floor-length dress, all ruby chiffon and satin, a split in the skirt of it that goes all the way up your thigh. Bucky eyes it hungrily as you turn away from the mirror and tuck your lipstick back into your little red clutch.

He’d rather stay here and mess around than go out and have to deal with… people.

Three sharp raps on your hotel door signal that it’s nearly time for you to go downstairs and join the others in the lobby. You barely acknowledge it, instead filtering through your little collection of necklaces. Bucky watches you compare pendants, assorted jewels and pearls, until you finally settle on a small silver chain with a diamond pendant. 

“Babe?”

He stands when you hold the necklace out for him. He takes the nimble clasp and lets you adjust your hair so he can clasp it around your neck. It’s too easy to take advantage of your position, and he presses a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You smell real good, like jasmine and vanilla, and it makes his heart skip a beat as blood decides to try and rush elsewhere—

“Mmm, nice try, mister.” You turn in his arms, winding your arms around his shoulders. “We have to go downstairs.”

Bucky grumbles. “Let’s just stay here. Say we got food poisoning from that sushi Stark got last night.”

“Definitely not.” You shake your head and press a light kiss to his lips that leaves a little red print. “You need to get used to these press events, baby. You can only miss so many before people start wondering where the famous Sergeant James Barnes has gone off to.”

“Sergeant James Barnes,” Bucky clarifies, running his hands down the back of your dress, “is busy trying to make some love to his girlfriend and it’s nobody else’s business.”

“It will be someone’s business if we turn up late. Again.”

“What can I say? I don’t like to rush things.”

You giggle and rub away the lipstick left behind on his lower lip. “When this event is all over, I promise I will make it very worth your while.” When he tenses, refusing to let you out of his arms, your eyes fill with sympathy. He really doesn’t want to go out there. “I’m not gonna leave your side,” you murmur, “I’ll stay where you can see me, we won’t be out there longer than an hour. I promise.”

He groans, letting you pull out of his embrace. “I hate reporters.”

“You don’t have to comment on anything,” you explain, “just stick by me, pose for the cameras, and then we’ll be onto the Q&A. And trust me, if I know Tony, he’ll be doing most of the talking.”

***

Bucky has to fight to shield his eyes from the glare of the setting sun reflecting off the buildings across the street. You loop your arm through his, walking at his pace as you trail behind Steve and Tony. Nat’s close behind, your reinforcement to make sure Bucky doesn’t turn and bolt back inside.

The instant clamoring swells up in a deafening wave the second they step outside. The rapid clicking of camera shutters, shouts from reporters, screams from excited fans… oh, God, fans. Nobody here is gonna like him, not after everything he’d done as the Winter Soldier has officially been made public…

“Calm,” you whisper in his ear, “they know we’re together, baby. It’s okay.”

Bucky flinches as several shouts of his name resound from twenty feet away, mixes of “James” and “Sergeant” and “Barnes” that make his head spin. He ignores them, offering tight smiles and hanging back with his hands tucked in his pockets when you decide to approach the reporters. He watches closely, eyeing the way you smile and practice your little flirty routine as you answer the questions thrown in your face. 

A flash of silver and red catches his eye. He turns his head and spies a gaggle of people huddled beside one of the metal barricades, some with their phones out—the red had apparently come from a phone case. They’re cheering and waving, and he raises his hand in a curious wave before turning his gaze away. You’re finishing up with the reporters, and you blow a little kiss to one of the cameras before sauntering back to him, leaving Natasha to fend for herself. 

“Looks like those people over there really like you.” You let Bucky wind an arm around your waist. “Wanna go say hi?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Baby, c’mon,” you plead, “it’s good to let the public get to know you. Besides, having fans is a good thing.”

He eyes the group suspiciously. They’re mostly women, some teenagers sprinkled in, cheeks flushed with excitement at the prospect of seeing him… not Tony, not Steve… him.

“You’re in their history books,” you murmur, “they get to meet a hero.”

Bucky swallows thickly. “How, uh… how do I talk to them?”

A little smirk crosses your face. “Remember the first time you flirted with me? Bring all that sweet charm right back up and they’ll love you forever.”

He blushes hard when you rub your hand up his arm. “Are you sure?”

“Well, you got me to stick around,” you reply, “pretty sure a couple of idolizing teens is way easier.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and glances over at where Tony’s scribbling frantically on posters and pictures held out by what look like hundreds of fans. “And what if they want me to sign stuff?”

You reach into your clutch and pull out a metallic gold Sharpie. “Do that cute loopy thing you sign all your things with.”

His shoulders roll back, and he adjusts the button of his jacket—subconsciously, most likely—and you rise up on the toes of your four-inch heels to nuzzle his cheek before giving him a stealthy pat on the ass and sending him on his way. Bucky swallows any nerves that creep up into his throat as each step takes him closer to the group of excited girls, who only bounce and whisper excitedly as he approaches. 

“Hi, ladies,” he says, trying to keep the nervous flutter in his voice under control. The chorus of “hi!” and “ohmygod!” that fills his ears in reply makes his cheeks burn, and he uncaps the pen, reaching out to sign a handmade poster that reads TEAM BARNES.

It’s a full five minutes of signing his initials, JBB, over and over again. He manages to engage better than he thought he would, even managing a few quick seconds of eye contact with several young women who bat their eyelashes and blush furiously as he delivers winks and lopsided smiles. The sudden appearance of an infant named after him literally takes the words out of his mouth, and with the mother’s permission he reaches over to let the curious baby grip onto his right index finger. It’s quite touching, considering he’s been wanting to talk with you about babies for a while.

By the time he’s done, you’ve moved a long ways down the red carpet to occupy yourself with a one-on-one camera interview. He feels surprisingly light and happy, and he waits patiently for you to take notice of his presence and invite him in. The reporter talking to you blushes, apparently excited to get him in as well.

“And we’re joined by Sergeant James Barnes,” she says, as the cameraman turns to bring her into the frame, “so, Sergeant, it’s been a while since you’ve made a public appearance like this. How are you finding it?”

Bucky’s brain struggles to find the right words quick enough. “Took some getting used to, I’m still, uh…” he shoots you a quick glance, as if to make sure what he’s sharing is okay. When you give him an encouraging smile, he continues. “I’m still adjusting to this kind of life. Fortunately, I got this one—” he loops his arm around your waist, fingers splaying out against your hip, “to help me out. She’s been real good to me.”

***

“Goddamn.”

Bucky slumps back against the mattress, tipping his head back as you drape yourself next to him, a sweaty thigh slung over his hips. You’re panting hard, muscles still tensing and trembling from the last near-hour of enthusiastic lovemaking. 

“I’ll say,” you reply, running a palm over his bare chest. “So, you had fun?”

He grins, looping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s always fun with you.”

“I meant the press.” You laugh and squirm a little closer. “You look like you had fun with those people.”

He smiles, cheeks flushing. “Someone named their baby after me.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” You press a kiss to the side of his neck. “I wish I’d seen that… imagining you with a baby does things to me.”

Bucky chuckles. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted one.”

“What, a baby?” You sigh and trail the tip of your finger over his lower lip. “I was thinking about it, but with what we do… are you sure you’d wanna have a baby?”

In response, he rolls on top of you, nudging your thighs apart to make room for him. “I want to,” he confesses in a whisper, lips brushing against yours. “Besides, even if it takes a while, it’s fun to try.”

Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him down into a deeper kiss. “I guess you’re thinking of trying right now?”

Bucky glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. “It’s only ten,” he says, “I’m willing to try all night.”

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[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Cyberpunk!HypMic

This is an extension of the cyberpunk outfits from this AU.

Originally, these outfits did not have their own universe to exist in - they were just made to fit a theme - but it just so happens HypMic already has a lot of the components required for cyberpunk...(but yikes, this is the densest AU - in terms of worldbuilding - I've had yet...)

TDD, MCD, Kuujaku Posse and NB existed in the past, but not in the context of the DRB - they were just groups of unlikely friends with differing reputations that retroactively came to be known under popular monikers and they ended up accepting those names over time. After WW3 and Chuohku's take over, technology rapidly advanced but society as a whole was wrecked.

As a reminder, the base outfit in this world is a silver body suit which only exposes the head, hands and feet, with black combat boots and a black belt.

In this world, this outfit is typically issued by Chuohku via people like Ramuda, although as you can tell by the outfits given in the magical boy AU, what you put on top of the base outfit can vary wildly. The boots and the belt can be swapped with something else without any trouble - the only thing that can get you into trouble with the authorities is ditching the suit. The body suit is able to purify polluted air within a short distance of itself, but only for the user.

All suit users have an accent colour, typically found on places like the top edge of the boots and on buttons, and the accents glow faintly in the dark. The colours have been adjusted slightly from the magical boy AU to create better glow effects.

...For the outfits that aren't specified, known from the magical boy AU or the same as canon in cases where the character does not rely on the suit, I'll leave them to your imagination, dear readers.

BB:

A team of brothers and odd jobs workers who navigate the digital and the real world to help those in need.

Ichiro: The owner of Odd Jobs Yamada. Prone to poking around with the latest in virtual reality, as well as illegal or semi-legal cybernetics. Resents Samatoki because he interferes with the Yamadas' business often enough to be a nuisance. Accent colour: Bright red.

Jiro: A delinquent and the more physical member of Odd Jobs Yamada (i.e. instead of trying to shut down bad guys using digital trickery, he's more likely to punch them instead). Was going to high school before circumstances shut schools down. Accent colour: Bright (royal) blue.

Saburo: A genius hacker. Was going to middle school before circumstances shut schools down. Accent colour: Bright yellow.

MTC:

An ad hoc crew who, in this world, have much weaker relationships than they do in canon.

Samatoki: A yakuza second-in-command, currently in possession of a strange black cybernetic glove which covers his right arm from the hand up to the elbow. The glove is able to control the air purification feature of the suits, so it's a particularly nasty bit of contraband. Resents Ichiro because Ichiro made a prototype of the glove and that was the last chance Samatoki had of convincing Nemu not to join Chuohku, but she joined them anyway. Also came into possession of an humanoid mecha, via Riou, which became the base of the new Yotsutsuji. Wears his TDD jacket over his shoulders. Accent colour: Indigo.

(Nemu: Currently with Chuohku to improve the world from within the government. Sent the completed glove to her brother because she knew he would keep it safe. Accent colour: Magenta (aka "Chuohku pink").)

Jyuto: A corrupt cop, currently investigating the glove in Samatoki's possession. More overworked than his canon counterpart...Even his trademark glasses have been digitised - they have a small antenna on the left side and can display information on the lenses when Jyuto gives them a mental signal (the display is in his accent colour). Accent colour: Maroon.

Riou: A former navyman who lives in nature, despite it being irreparably wrecked, and would rather not deal with the digital world, considering he's a cyborg (this is how he gets around not having the suit - he was experimented on in Chuohku's pursuit of creating a new supersoldier). Gave Samatoki an ancient industrial military-grade humanoid mecha which is about as tall as he (Samatoki) is.

FP:

Gentaro doesn't know Ramuda and Dice in this world.

Ramuda: A fashion designer who hands out government-mandated suits (for a small fee) while trying to ask out as many ladies as possible. Also sells other items to go with the suits, as would be expected of a typical fashion designer. His allegiance to Chuohku is a lot clearer in this world, but he's not a clone in this - just a normal human with hair dyed pink. Accent colour: Light orange (as per the magical boy AU).

Gentaro: A writer who makes his stories "real" via virtual reality and partnerships with others, such as Odd Jobs Yamada. Has material in some of his stories which he can use to blackmail Chuohku with. Hides his suit under traditional Japanese clothes. Accent colour: Bright purple.

Dice: Officially, he's a gambler who gambles with digital money and can't afford the suit. (Ramuda is not only something like a debt collector to him, he's also Dice's minder and enabler of sorts.) Unofficially, he's the son of Otome, the leader of Chuohku, who, when he was disowned by his family, lost access to the suits. As a result, he occasionally struggles to breathe and has to be helped by someone every so often. (Maybe if Hitoya or Jakurai met him in this world, Dice would be properly saved...?)

MTR:

Jakurai: A doctor, albeit one who prefers to use old-fashioned (that's "modern" to us) methods where possible. Chuohku believes gathering data from his brainwaves is necessary for the progress of developing new medical technology (or so they say...), so he wears a strange device which loops around the back half of his head and sits over his hair, attached to his head by two round (glowing) suction cups just above his ears. Wears his doctor's coat over the suit. Acts as Doppo and Hifumi's therapist and/or meditates in his spare time. Accent colour: Cyan.

Yotsutsuji: Currently in a coma after Chuohku's experiments for new supersoldiers. With the help of the former TDD, Jakurai has placed what could be salvaged of Yotsutsuji's consciousness into a humanoid mecha.

Hifumi: The no. 1 host of Fragrance. Uses virtual reality, projection mapping and other technologies to create entertainment for his clients. Afraid of women, but rather than his jacket, in this world he uses the same technology that aids him in his work to escape them. Accent colour: Neon green.

Doppo: A salaryman with appallingly low pay, no matter how hard he works, due to the fact technology is advanced enough in this world to give him a run for his money...He's lucky he has Jakurai and Hifumi to keep him sane... Accent colour: Teal.

DH:

Rei knows about Sasara and Rosho in this world, but they don't know about him.

Sasara: A comedian, currently under the heel of Chuohku. To this end, there are only certain kinds of jokes he's allowed to say while performing in public, although Sasara tries to get around this as much as he can when he can and secretly wishes to tear down the system with the former TDD + MCD so he can say what he likes again. Remotely communicates with Rosho via a visor and wears a leather jacket similar to Samatoki's TDD jacket in memory of MCD. Accent colour: Bright pink (as per the magical boy AU).

Rosho: A teacher, who lost his job when the school system broke down. He relies on Sasara to provide his basic necessities, but also takes occasional jobs to teach children in small groups or one-on-one, even teaching them comedy skills if he deems it necessary for them to survive in this wartorn world. Remotely communicates with Sasara via a display built into his glasses (which he otherwise wears purely for cosmetic reasons). Accent colour: Purple.

Rei: The creator of various technologies and creations prior to the war, most notably the ubiquitous suits. Currently gathering Jakurai's brainwave data for his own purposes. Has a strange relationship with the upper management of Chuohku, particularly Otome. Instead of sunglasses, he wears a (purely cosmetic) sniper's monocle over his left eye. Accent colour: Orange.

BAT:

Kuko: Back to being a delinquent, after people stopped believing in religion in exchange for technology. However, he still holds on to his beliefs, with the idea that one day, he can bring Buddhism back to a world that needs something to believe in. To this end, he uses virtual reality to recreate the pre-war world as he remembers it. Wears a teal happi coat over his suit and his prayer beads dangle out of his pocket. Accent colour: Mint green. Also known to commonly ditch the government-mandated suit for a particular respirator system created by Hitoya, which has a mess of wires going from the back of his head and going to either his neck or his shoulders (it looks similar to how the robot from the cover art of In My Mind's Axwell Mix has it) - this is due to the fact it looks intimidating and cool, yet it can be a pain to move around with at times.

Jyushi: A visual kei musician who enhances his shows with virtual reality, projection mapping and so on. People get confused when they involve Amanda "coming to life", but they roll with it anyway. Accent colour: Gold (essentially, a darker yellow than Saburo's).

Hitoya: A former lawyer, whose services are no longer needed now that the rules of society the law should operate in do not apply. This freed up his time to pursue his own interests, including creating portable respirator technology which Kuko and Jyushi try out for him (he does this with some help from some connections in the medical field, including Jakurai).

[sibsteria]

with you [lewis dawkins]

I heard my alarm beeping in the early hours of the morning, signalling I had to get up and get ready for work. I move to leave the bed but I hear my boyfriend, Lewis, stirring as he is woken up by me moving. ''Stay.'' he mumbles, still groggy from just waking up.

''Can't, I have work in a few hours.'' I cup his face, he stares up at me in a pout. ''Just for a bit? I never get to spend time with you, lately.'' I give into him, as he has a point, I've been very busy. ''Of course, I forgot how nice it is to relax with you in the morning.'' I put myself back under the covers and into Lewis' awaiting arms.

His soft comfort makes me feel needed, like it's just the two of us in the world, which I wouldn't mind. ''Should I get some coffee or tea?'' I look up to him, my right arm moving across his chest. ''In a bit, I just want to stay here for a little longer.'' He smiles down at me, I rest my head on his chest, listening to his steady heart beat. One of his hands starts to stroke my hair and I close my eyes out of pure bliss. I love the feeling of our legs tangled underneath the blanket, it was a familiar feeling, I couldn't trade mornings with Lewis for anything.

''Hooooow about, instead of work, you stay home with me and we watch movies and stuff all day.'' He had spun me to face him, brushing the hair out my face. ''I don't know, I haven't missed a day of work in a year.'' I compare the options for my day. ''Exactly, plus, we don't even need to put clothes on. We could just stay like this.'' He raises his eyebrow. By stay like this he meant him in nothing but pajama pants and me in a shirt and underwear, not like I'd ever complain.

''Fine, you got me, I'll call in later.'' I bite my lip and smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek before I go on my hunt for coffee. Once I reach the kitchen, I grab our mugs out of the cupboard and prepare the coffee. I bring the hot, steaming cups up to our shared bedroom to see Lewis propped up against the headboard, his controller in hand. ''What should I put on first?'' He asks, taking his cup out of my hand, I put mine on my bedside table.

''iZombie? The last episode we watched had that cliffhanger at the end and I reeaaally want to know what happens to Major.'' I plead. ''Coming up, personally I think he'll be okay, they can't kill him off for good yet.'' He clicks continue watching and I grab my coffee cup. A few minutes into the episode, my coffeee is cool enough to start drinking, so I take a few sips. I look over to my undeniably amazing boyfriend to see he has already made his way through half of the coffee in his cup, I shake my head with a loving smile on my face.

What would I do without him? I think to myself. By the time our cups were empty and Liv had solved the murder of the episode, Lewis and I were back in cuddling position but decided to stay sat up, not wanting to miss a second of the zombie- crime stopping- drama filled- romance but not- action packed tv show. A few minutes later, the title screen for the next episode played and I took this moment to look at Lewis.

He looks me in the eyes and I can't help but smile, I want to stay in this moment forever. He kisses my forehead as the show starts but I decide to speak up. ''You missed.'' I smirk. ''Missed what?'' It's been a while since I've said something this childish and I can't stop my movements, I grip the back of his head lightly and I pull him in until our lips connect. Though we've done this many times, I still get a parade of butterflies in my stomach, my heart still skips beats and a vacant haze in my head sends me into a flurry. He still makes my insides feel fuzzy after all this time, after everything.

I let my left arm slide down and loop around the back of his neck, his hand gently nudging my side, signifying for me to move in top of him. Once I'm in his lap, I break away, just to be pulled back in. Both of my arms now reside at the back of his neck, tangled in his messy hair, his on my lower back- still flushing me against him. The softness of it, mixed with the passion, makes a perfect moment. Nothing could go wrong, not like anything would with him around. The way our lips moved together was intoxicating, how could a person ever get enough? I pull away just for a moment, admiring the aftermath.

Blotchy red lips, pink cheeks, a slight sheet of sweat covering his forehead, hair even messier than before, yet a smile still occupied his features. His skin felt smooth and warm, heated by the moment. He cupped my cheek and flicked the hair that veiled my face, all he did was stare. ''What you doing, Dawkins?'' I poked his cheek, smiling at the man below me.

''Wanting to stay here forever.'' He replied, pinning a strand of hair behind my ear. ''You're not the only one.'' I kissed his neck, getting back in my original position, picking up where we left off.

''Then let's.''

[skygirl5]

12 Prompts of Christmas - #10 Santa

TEN - Santa

 Standing on the New York City sidewalks wearing jeans and an oversized red Santa coat, Richard Castle gathered together the group of pre-teens trailing behind him and lined them up against the side of the building to address them. They were all festively dressed in some way: one girl had a headband that also mimicked elf ears, another had a hair clip fashioned out of a Christmas wrap bow, and a third wore a festive sweater beneath her purple coat. Rick’s own child was fully decked out with a green ribbon in her hair, Christmas tree shaped earrings, and bells tied onto her shoes with red ribbons.

Smiling down at them, he asked, “Okay ladies, are we ready?”

“Yeah!” they chorused back to him.

“Great. Then we’re all ready to go but remember: stay close to me while we’re inside. You wouldn’t want someone to accidentally think you’re a police officer,” he told them with a dramatic wink.

“Dad,” his daughter, Alexis, groaned.

Rick held up a finger signaling for her to hold on a moment. Then, he donned his red Santa hat and from his pocket he pulled out a white fake beard which he hooked on using loops that went over his ears. Once it was in place, he reminded her, “Not Dad—Santa.”

Now fully outfitted, Rick led the parade of kids into the police station, proud he was getting to spend his afternoon not only helping the hard-working members of the NYPD, but also teaching impressionable young girls an important lesson about giving back and being kind.

Inside the police station Rick walked up to the welcome desk and pleasantly said, “Good afternoon.”

The cop at the desk eyed him a bit suspiciously and asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I called ahead. Richard Castle. The elves and I are here to deliver Christmas cards to the brave officers of the NYPD,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing towards the four girls clustered around him, who each held a shopping bag filled with goodies.

Now smiling, the female officer nodded and reached for the telephone on her desk. “Ah, right. Hold on, I’ll call an escort for you.”

“Thank you very much.”

The group waited patiently for about five minutes before a woman dressed in a black business suit approached them and asked, “Hi, I’m Denise from PR; are you from Spenser Academy?”

“That’s us!” one of the girls exclaimed.

The woman smiled at her, then addressed the group as a whole, “Well on behalf of the NYPD I’d like to thank you for your generous gifts. What have you brought us today?”

“We have about three dozen holiday cards and some handmade ornaments and decorations to hang up if that’s okay,” Rick said to Denise.

“Absolutely! We appreciate everything you’re willing to give to us. Let’s go to the third floor, okay? they haven’t had any Christmas visitors yet.”

“Have you had many other schools visit this year?” Rick asked as they shuffled their way towards the elevator. He knew there were several other groups from Alexis’s grade as well as the one above hers participating in the holiday cheer project, though some were donating décor and cards to fire stations and hospitals as well as the NYPD. He also believed other private schools in the city were participating in similar projects.

“Just one other one here so far, but I’ve had several others at other precincts.”

“That’s nice. It’s such an important time of year to give back.”

“I agree. You’re a teacher at the school?”

Rick checked and put his hand on Alexis’s shoulder. “No, no—parent volunteer. This is my daughter, Alexis.”

“Hi,” the young redhead said demurely.

Denise smiled down at her. “Hello. Well, we do appreciate your time.”

Rick nodded in appreciation. He had always enjoyed volunteering at Alexis’s school and never really thought of it as a chore or even an obligation. As someone who loved children, he found it a joy. Plus, as his career enabled him to be both a full-time writer and a full-time stay-at-home Dad, he always felt a duty to volunteer for what he could because he knew that many of Alexis’s classmates had two working parents, and it was not always possible for them to chaperone field trips or organize bake sales like he could.

When the elevator’s doors opened again and Denise led the way out into the hall, Rick asked her, “What department is this?”

“The homicide division.”

“Ah,” Rick said hesitantly. While he wouldn’t have minded poking around that floor, he wasn’t sure it was entirely appropriate for ten- and eleven-year-old girls. Nevertheless, their visit was not intended to be a long one, so he stepped forward and turned so he could address his group. “Well, okay ladies, here we go. How about…Paige and Hannah hand out the cards while Alexis, Ryder, and I hang up some decorations, okay?”

Their girls swapped their shopping bags around to match up with Rick’s duty assignments and then the two with the holiday cards scampered off. Meanwhile, Denise directed Rick and the remaining two girls to a room centrally located on the floor. “You can hang your decorations here in the break room.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” Rick said to her and led the way inside the room. It was empty save for an officer talking on a cell phone, who walked out the opposite door when they entered. Rick led the girls over to one of the tables in the room and they opened up their shopping bags and began to unload the decorations. From the bag he carried, Rick pulled out a few rolls of tape. He handed one to Ryder and told her to hang up the snowflake decorations they had on the break room windows. Then, he turned to his daughter and asked, “Do you want to hang up the snowmen?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s put some on the cabinets,” she said, pointing towards the kitchenette in the room which had a sink along with a counter that had a coffee maker, toaster oven, and microwave. Off to the side was a refrigerator, all of which was surrounded by cabinets.

“Sounds good.”

Alexis put a snowman centrally located on each of the doors to the bottom row of cabinets. Then Rick brought a chair over from one of the tables so she could climb up on it and reach the upper cabinets. She was still too short, though, so he had to help hang the last row of snowmen.

He was about halfway done when he heard the breakroom door swing open and a female’s voice say, “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone else was in here.”

“Yep, sorry; we’ll be done in a minute,” Rick said as he struggled to get the sticky tape out of the dispenser.

“We’re decorating!” Alexis said.

“I can see that,” said the female voice.

With the last snowman tacked into place, Rick stepped back, helped his daughter off the chair, then quickly grabbed it so it was not in the way if the woman wanted to access the kitchenette counter. “Sorry about that,” he said again, only glancing briefly in her direction, “Alexis, what else do you want to hang up?”

“Let’s put the stars on the refrigerator,” she suggested.

Rick hesitated and glanced over his shoulder to see what the woman was doing. When he saw her at the coffee pot, he agreed with, “Okay, but let’s make sure not to stand in this nice lady’s way.”

“Oh, it’s fine; I don’t need to get into the fridge,” she assured them. With her mug now full of coffee, she turned to face them and Rick finally met her eye. Immediately, he felt like he’d been smacked in the chest. Her face…he knew her face, but from where?

“Are you a police officer?” Alexis asked the woman as she hung up the stars.

“A detective, actually.”

“Ohh!! I’m in fifth grade, but I might want to be a detective when I grow up—a private detective, just like Sherlock Holms!”

“Oh wow, that’s neat!” the detective said.

“Santa, I finished hanging the snowflakes. Santa? Santa!”

“Wha—oh, sorry Ryder,” Rick apologized, when Ryder tugged on the sleeve of his coat. He’d been too busy staring at the female detective wondering where he’d seen her before. “What do you want to hang up next?”

“Um…maybe some of the garland chain along that window ledge?”

“Sure thing.” Rick walked over to the shopping bags and pulled out the long chain of “garland” the girls had made, which consisted of round circles of alternating light and green construction paper all stapled together to form a chain. “Alexis why don’t you come and help Ryder once you’re done with those stars?”

“Okay, Da—Santa!” She grinned at him then ran past him to help her schoolmate.

When Rick turned back around, he was pleasantly surprised to see the female detective was still in the breakroom, eyeing him curiously. “Sorry, ah, this is our first year as a decorating committee; we’re a little rough around the edges.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I think what you’re doing is really nice. Are you…are you also associated with the two girls running around giving away Christmas cards?”

The writer frowned behind his Santa beard. “Oh no are they running? I told them not to run.”

She laughed and said, “It’s fine,” but the words barely registered in his mind because with her laugh came the solid recognition he’d been seeking. Yes, he definitely recognized her, but he could hardly believe it was her—her—the woman he’d encountered so briefly their interaction felt more like a dream.

So caught up by the sudden recognition, Rick failed to realize he’d gasped, “Oh—it’s you!” out loud until her brow wrinkled and she asked, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, sorry. I mean—you’re Kate, aren’t you?”

Her brow crinkled further. “Do we know each other?”

“Yea—oh, sorry. Crap! Sorry!” he grunted as he tried to strip off his fake beard and hat, which until that moment he had forgotten that he was wearing. No wonder she didn’t recognize him!

With his face fully exposed her confused expression melted into one of surprise. “Oh! Rick. H-hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed, his grin a bit dopey. Once again, he had run into this mysterious, beautiful woman by chance and he could not say he was remotely disappointed about it. Since they’d first met, five Decembers prior, he’d thought about her occasionally over the years, mostly over the holidays, but occasionally during trips out to his beach house since the water combined with the vacation atmosphere connected it and the lake cabin in his mind. He’d never gotten to the point of actually trying to find her, but he’d thought about it several times. Now, it appeared fate was nudging him and he wasn’t going to deny it.

“We’re done!”

His daughter announcing the completion of their task pulled Rick back to the present and he stammered a bit. “Oh, um, ah, yeah—is there anything left to hang up, girls?”

“No,” Alexis said. She gazed around the room and frowned slightly, adding, “I guess we didn’t have that much to decorate with.”

“Oh no—I think it looks much more festive in here,” Kate chimed in.

Rick gave her a grateful expression then turned back to the girls. “Okay, ladies, why don’t you gather up the bags and tape dispensers and then let’s go find the others, okay?”

“Thank you for decorating our break room,” Kate said to them before heading towards the door. Before she could open it, Rick stepped towards her.

“Wait! I mean, um, how are you?”

Looking slightly amused she said, “I’m okay, how are you?”

“Good, good. Um, I was just…well, wondering if I might be able to take you out for coffee and, um, pick your brain a little bit about the NYPD. Always doing research,” he confessed with a little shrug. In reality his heart was racing, and he felt like a teenager again. God, what was he doing? He wasn’t even trying to ask her out on a date as his romantic situation was…complicated…at present.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “If I recall correctly: you already did that.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “But you weren’t a detective then.”

She chuckled lightly and then waited about seven seconds before agreeing, “Okay, sure. Coffee.”

“Great!” Rick said, elated. He fumbled for a moment, trying to get his wallet out of his back pocket when the bulky Santa coat hung down over it, but he managed. Then he handed her a business card and said, “Call me, please? we’ll set something up.”

She took the card with a nod. By that time, the girls had collected their bags and had joined them at the breakroom door, so Kate pushed it open and let them all walk out. As they did so, Alexis wished her a merry Christmas and she reciprocated with, “Merry Christmas to you, too; and thanks again for the decorations.”

“You’re welcome!” Alexis said cheerfully.

After giving Rick a head nod, Kate walked off. He watched her disappear into the crowd of her coworkers until the high-pitched squeal of a ten-year-old girl drew his attention and he knew he needed to get back into chaperone-mode before the girls caused too much more chaos for the homicide floor.