#in bright green letters and I only got ten points off

[transsexual-divinity]

I passed my drivers test!!!

[midatwrtr]

Two For One

Aespa Minjeong & Winter x Male Reader

10k words

Tags: Threesome, Creampies, Squirting, Riding, Missionary, Doggy, Virgins, Deepthroat, Double blowjob

It was a bad idea, a horrible idea. You knew it as soon as you decided to listen to another one of Minjeong’s 3 AM sleepy thoughts: go to the forbidden library of the academy, read the ancient spell manuals, and try their magics. There was already one word you didn’t like in that sentence: forbidden. Most libraries prohibited access to certain books because of their fragility or rarity, which was understandable. However, in a magic academy where not only the teachers could put protection spells on the manuscripts but also repair the damage with ease, surely there must have been another reason. Obviously, it was going to be an important one.

The second thing Minjeong said that sounded suspicious was her desire to try the spells. Both of you knew how hard ancient magics were and knowing that they came from forbidden books should have been a sufficient warning to keep you from attempting them. It was also well known that Minjeong wasn’t the most talented of witches. You didn’t want to be mean to your friend but her academic performance was difficult to ignore.

You thought that being the magic academy’s top student, Minjeong would have brighter ideas, but no. Although you were strongly against the idea, her excitement and puppy eyes got the better of you and you followed through with her plan. 

When you were between the dusty bookshelves and the sounds of the rooms resembled more and more the cries of ghosts and haunted souls, it was already too late to back away. 

“Look, don’t they look so cool?” Minjeong exclaimed, pointing at the black leather book, with ashed gold linings and crooked letters. Clearly a cursed book. You could already feel the languish moans of the unfortunate victims of its curses.

“Wanna take a look at it?” she asked. You were surprised by her lack of worry at the obvious danger in front of her.

“No!” you screamed and pushed her before it was too late. 

“What’s to worry about?”

“What do you mean? If you were to touch that thing, you’d probably lose your hand, you idiot!”

Minjeong looked at you with an offended frown. “You worry too much…” her tone drifted off and she ran to the next bookshelf.

You followed her everywhere, preventing her from killing herself and yourself. There was a moment that almost got you. Minjeong jumped on the shelves with her full force. It was a good thing to remember that these shelves were centuries old and left unkempt for as long as you could imagine so obviously the wood gave out and Minjeong fell together with the ten books she managed to grab out of greediness.

You managed to catch her and shield her from the falling books with your back. Later, she apologized profusely but you had to go back to the dorm with an uncomfortable back pain.

Minjeong followed you to your room. You thought it was to bid you goodbye or apologize some more but then she took a book out of her coat. The weathered leather-bound book seemed to stare at you with its emerald green cover, warning you about its possessor. 

Your friend opened the book and let you see the elegant swirling calligraphy, red and deep. The pages had acquired a creamy yellow color with time and it was hard for you to read it. 

“We should try this spell,” Minjeong declared with a serious tone. 

“We—what?” you replied.

“I said we should try this spell. It will be good,” she said and cleared her throat, gaining a deeper shade in her voice. “It is said to possess the power to bring one’s deepest desires to life. It delves into the very essence of longing and seeks to materialize the aspirations that reside within the caster’s heart.”

“You managed to translate all that from this squiggly writing?”

Minjeong nodded proudly with a bright smile.

Your eyes took the shape of horror.

“Are you really sure? I mean, really really sure.”

“Mh!” she confirmed. Minjeong carefully laid the book on your desk. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she traced her finger along the faded text. “Imagine, our dreams made real!”

You eyed the ancient script warily. “It sounds like a scam. It really does. Do you really think one spell can make all of your dreams come true? It’s even better than the philosopher stone,” you said. “The forbidden section is forbidden for a reason. What if this backfires?”

Minjeong dismissed all your concerns with a wave of her hand. “Oh, come on! This is our chance! Let’s try it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Uhm… that we would die? Worse, we could be cursed for life and beyond as soulless ghouls.”

“Pfft. You read too many books,” Minjeong brushed it off.

“Minjeong, we’re literally in a magic academy!”

“It will be fine.”

Reluctantly, you sighed, “Fine, let’s just be careful. We have to follow the instructions precisely. By the way, what if they hear us?”

“Don’t worry, everyone has gone on the school trip. The nearest students are in the other building.”

The moonlight filtered through the tall windows and cast a soft glow on the center of the floor. The flickering candles seemed to get agitated as their flames danced more frenetically. 

You and Minjeong stood next to each other. She held the wand in her hand with confidence, ready. The air in the room was becoming heavy, there was a palpable energy.

“Are you sure about this, Minjeong?” you asked one last time.

“Absolutely.”

You both closed your eyes in unison. Minjeong’s mind cleared as she focused on channeling her energy into the wand. With a shared breath, they opened their eyes, the moonlight and candlelight casting shadows that seemed to dance with their anticipation. Wands at the ready, they spoke the incantation with a synchronicity that echoed their shared purpose.

"Manifestum Desideria."

As the words hung in the air, a surge of magical energy enveloped the room. You could feel the invisible threads of desire weaving around them, responding to the call of the ancient spell. The air crackled with enchantment, and a faint mist began to materialize, swirling around Minjeong.

The air vibrated and anticipation built up more and more until… it just stopped.

Minjeong opened her eyes and looked at you.

“Was that it?” she asked.

“Yep,” another voice answered. 

Minjeong jumped and screamed her lungs out. You got started as well from the unknown voice and her scream. As you turned around, you could see clearly who it came from. It was a girl and she looked exactly the same as Minjeong. 

“Hey, who are you?” Minjeong asked with a trembling voice, pointing at the other girl.

“What do you mean who is this? I’m you,” she said laughing. Her voice too was extremely similar to Minjeong’s but it was slightly sultrier, more playful, and sexier.

“Uhh, Minjeong? No, Winter?” you suggested.

“Yes, I’m Winter if that’s what you like to call me.”

“You can’t be me,” Minjeong said, more confused than anything. Your friend turned around to search for some kind of reassurance from you but you had no idea either.

“Yes, I am,” she repeated. There was a look of pleasure on her face seeing Minjeong confused. “And I know everything about you. Every little secret you try to hide.”

“W-w-wait, you’re just playing with me.”

“Yeah, like how you stole Karina’s makeup.”

“How do you—”

“And how do you like your friend, right over here,” Winter said, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you closer. Your heart suddenly started beating faster. You could smell her perfume, a strong sensual smell. You had hugged Minjeong before and all of Winter’s sizes were the same as Minjeong’s. She was a clone. If what she was saying was true, you might just roll with it.

“What?” you asked.

“What?!” Minjeong asked too.

“What? Are you going to tell me you don’t?” Winter said, getting closer and rubbing your chest. “Then this won’t bother you, right?” she said smugly, tracing her finger along your neck, then under your jaw and near your lips, right as she got her face closer. You felt goosebumps. You knew this wasn’t Minjeong, but she was so real and so identical to the real one that you wanted to enjoy the moment a little.

“Hey! Get off him!” she screamed, pushing her away. Too bad.

“Why? You like him?” 

“N-no!”

“Mh? Stop lying to yourself, sweetheart…” Winter got closer to your face. “What about you, handsome? Do you like her? You got a Minjeong all to yourself, you know? You can do anything you want with me.”

“Hey! What are you saying?!” the real Minjeong exclaimed.

“I see you staring at my lips, do you wanna taste them?” she asked and leaned closer, slowly enough to wait for a reaction, “Oh, you aren’t backing away.” Truth was, you did want to kiss her.

“You’ve done it now!” Minjeong pulled you away and hugged you hard. She felt territorial, almost possessive. “I’m supposed to be his first!”

“Oh, dear…” Winter laughed.

“Wait.” Minjeong turned to you as you stared at her with eyes wide open. You looked at each other for a moment, both slowly starting to blush.“Oh my god… you’ve ruined everything!” Minjeong screamed in frustration, holding her head in her hands.

“I don’t think so,” Winter turned to you, “You like her don’t you?” 

You opened your mouth and stopped for a second. You felt a gentle tug at the back of my mind. “Well, uhm, yes…” you said. It’s a only after a few moments that you realize what you said. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, and a hint of nervousness creeps in. 

“Ain’t that lucky?” Winter said and clapped happily while the two of you looked at the floor, not baring the sight of the other one. Your feelings had been confessed and so were hers but you did not know what to do now. Your wingwoman did though.

“You guys should kiss now.”

“What?! Listen, uhm, me, you helped us a lot but that’s too much,” Minjeong said angrily, pointing her finger at Winter who on the other side looked at her with a surprised yet content smile. 

“Why not? You want it.”

“Yeah, but we are going too fast.”

“Listen, I’m not leaving until you’ve done everything you have to,” Winter said, folding her arms and leaning her hips on one leg, showing her attitude.

“Right, are you going to stay here forever or is there a way to let you free?” you asked. “Also, why did you appear?”

“Did you guys not read the warning?”

“What warning,” you and Minjeong said in unison. You rushed to the book and immediately found a blood red paragraph on the other side of the page. 

[Exercise great caution when wielding the Desiderium Manifestum spell, for the line between reality and desire is delicate and easily blurred. The spell has been known to personify desires in unexpected ways, and the manifestations may take on a life of their own, beyond the caster's control. Use this enchantment responsibly, and be prepared to face the consequences of desires brought into the tangible realm. It is advised to thoroughly understand the potential repercussions before attempting to cast this spell.]

Minjeong’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait… the warning in the ancient spellbook? It said something about completing the ritual fully to manifest our desires.”

Winter nodded, a smug smile on her face. “Exactly. You manifested me because of your desires, right? To send me away, you have to acknowledge and act on those desires. I am just here to help you.”

You looked at your friend with disappointment as she laughed awkardely. 

After reading the paragraph you quickly understood that ‘making your desire come alive’ was really meant literally. You blamed Minjeong for not realizing it—she was the one that wanted to use the spell in the first place—and scolded her for not reading everything thoroughly before trying it. She apologized and said that it was her excitement that got her so worked up and that normally she would’ve seen it.

“So, we really have to…” Minjeong’s voice trailed off as she glanced at you, her cheeks flushed.

You felt your heart race as you met her eyes. The air was thick with unspoken emotions. “I guess we have to kiss,” you said softly.

Minjeong bit her lip nervously. “This is so embarrassing.”

Winter sighed dramatically. “The longer you hesitate, the longer I stay here. And believe me, I can be very persistent.”

You took a deep breath and stepped closer to Minjeong, gently taking her hand. “We can do this. It’s just a kiss, right?”

Minjeong nodded, her eyes locked onto yours. “Just a kiss.”

Then came the moment you had been waiting for: you had to kiss Minjeong and Minjeong had to kiss you. Your two figures illuminated by the warm light of the candles inside your room stood still as both of you looked at each other, uncertain. Minjeong bit her lip, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater. “Whenever you want,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. A brief silence hung between you, filled by the soft noise of the wind.

You took a deep breath. You were the man, you had to do it. You took a step closer, your eyes met Minjeong’s for a brief moment and shy smile played on your lips. She felt her heartbeat quicken and a nervous giggle escaped her lips. Their eyes locked and you both inhaled. 

You held your breath and gently cupped Minjeong’s cheek. Minjeong’s breath caught in her throat as she met your gaze, eyes wide open. 

Your lips met in a soft and hesitant kiss. It was delicate, shy, and quick. It was just a moment but you clearly felt her soft skin press against yours and it was a shock. You’d want more of it, it was the final gift of your long wait, and you wanted to savor it more.

As you pulled away, your eyes met again and a shy smile appeared on your lips while Minjeong had an ecstatic expression, her mouth still open. 

“Oh my god, good job you guys,” Winter said, clapping behind you. You almost forgot about her. “That’s your man now, you have to kiss him better, you know?”

“Calm down, that was our first.”

“Yeah, I know but don’t worry, I’ll show you. I really can’t hold myself back with him…”

“Wha—” Minjeong couldn’t finish her sentence that Winter jumped on you.

She kissed you ferociously—deeply, passionately. If she was the embodiment of Minjeong’s desire, she must have waited for years. You could feel the pent-up frustration and all the regret in that one kiss. Winter moans into you, pulling your face roughly into hers as her tongue invades your mouth, taking away the innocence that has sealed your lips until now. She moves quickly and hungrily, taking your breath away.

Your hands are naturally drawn to her hips. You’ve hugged Minjeong before and you knew how her body felt against her—Winter was exactly the same. Your fingers dig into her ass as you exchange the kiss. Winter’s hands on your neck felt possessive and territorial. She pulled you in even closer than you already were, pretty much grinding against you.

It took Minjeong’s whole effort to detach you from Winter’s grasp.

Minjeong immediately glued herself to you. 

“What the hell was that?!” She screamed with territorial fierce.

“I just showed you how to kiss properly?” the other said nonchalantly.

“Wasn’t that too much?” Minjeong stuttered.

“You left me waiting for too long. If you confessed sooner…”

You could see Minjeong pout under you. You placed your hands on her waist and pulled her close to you, making her annoyed expression fade away. You take her lips and meet her in a kiss more intense than her previous one. Her tongue timidly pushes forward, searching for your mouth. 

Her words resonate inside your head: “Touch me.” Your hands move around, alternating between her ass and her back, greedily taking all of her into your arms. Minjeong’s hands instead move to your chest, to search for support for what’s stirring inside her.

After a couple of moments, Minjeong’s lip turn into a shy smile and she backs away a couple of centimeters.

“You’re-you’re poking me,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry! I- it was you—no, the other Winter, have you seen how she’s dressed?” you quickly try to excuse yourself, thinking it might have been too embarrassing if you were to admit that she was the cause. But after all the blood rushed to your groin, your brain was left empty and the poor judgement would cost you.

“You pervert! You just confessed to me and you’re getting hard from another girl?!” Minjeong quickly yells at you.

“But she’s you! I’m getting a boner because of you!” you yell back, afraid that you might hurt her.

“You can’t scream this kind of stuff, you fool…” her tone becomes soft and she hides away.

“Oh, it looks like you two are starting to finally be honest with each other,” Winter announced, patting you two, “well, what are you going to do about this?” she said while rubbing your member. You jolt back, goosebumps running through your skin. The feeling alone was enough to have you throbbing. “Because if you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

“You can’t!”

“I know I can and I know you want it too. Remember? I know everything about you,” she says. “Do I have to tell him about all the restless nights you had rubbing yourself thinking about him? Screaming his name in your bedroom, night after night after night…” “Stop! It’s not true!” Minjeong said. She was so embarrassed that she was almost in tears. You couldn’t tell who was redder in that moment: Minjeong, whose secret was revealed to the last person she wanted to tell it to, or you, whose surprise left you frozen.

“So? You already know how her mouth tastes, want to know how it feels too?” Winter said, turning you. You couldn’t answer her question: your legs gave out and you fell into the bed. It was almost as if someone injected you with morphine. Your head started spinning, you couldn’t stand up but you couldn’t stand still either.

“What have you done to him?” Minjeong asked worriedly.

“Just my powers, he’s really really horny right now and his body is starting to lag. I have a really good aphrodisiac in my spit,” she confessed.

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Sorry but I don’t get to leave until he fills both of us with cum.”

“W-what?!” Minjeong was left startled at her clone’s calm demeanor. Their words were a confused blur, from what you knew, you were living a dream, a very fun one.

“The purpose of the spell is to make your deepest desire come true.”

“You must be joking right?”

“Have I said a single lie, yet?”

“No…”

“Look, I’m doing you a favor here, you have to stop being so against me,” she whispered in Minejong’s ear. “Your deepest desire is finally going to come true. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

Winter takes your pants off and your cock springs out. At the sight of your erect penis, Winter lets out a satisfied sigh, being able to finally take a good look at it. Her excitement was vivid, her wide eyes scanned the whole length of your member, from your balls to the tip. Awkwardness, on the other hand, was devouring Minjeong alive. She had her hands plastered on her face, trying to cover her eyes, even though she could see perfectly through them, flickering her fingers to reveal her aroused pupils.

The seducer smirked and looked at Minjeong with a bright grin. ‘You like it?’ is what she’d hear if her eyes spoke and ‘yes’ is what you’d hear coming from Minjeong’s mouth despite her bit red face.

“I know what you want, baby,” she said, brushing the cuter girl’s warm cheek. 

“I-I-I don’t want anything,” the poor girl stammered, suddenly feeling the need to look away at the confused boner between your legs.

“Right, sure,” she giggled. Then she reverted her eyes to you. “You know, dear, I’d really really want you to fuck my mouth and swallow you right up… but,” she looked at her identical friend. “I think she needs it more, don’t you?”

Minjeong was now looking down, rubbing her thighs together. She couldn’t matter a single word

“Scoot up close and give him a little taste,” Winter said, pointing between your legs.

Minjeong little steps on her knees, gulping down when she stood really close. “Are you sure?” she asked again, with a shaky voice.

“Lick him. Make sure to look up into his eyes, too.”

Minjeong took a few breaths to prepare herself. She hesitantly brought her head down, shaking throughout, and placed her closed lips on the bare tip of your cock. You felt shivers running down from your member throughout your thighs. 

Anticipation was killing both of you. “Is she gonna do it?” you thought. “Am I gonna do it?” she thought. She looked at you, looking for some kind of encouragement, reassurance perhaps. You looked just as lost as her, just as excited. You placed a hand on the side of her neck, picked up a few strands of hair, and brushed her cheek with your thumb. 

She smiles, her lips still planted.

Minjeong was ready. She inhaled the scent that was coming from your skin, closed her eyes, and took a long sensual lick, from the base of your cock, right to the tip. She straightened up and looked at you with her puppy eyes.

“D-did you like it?” she asked. 

You quickly nodded. You were twitching terribly at the cold humid air. 

“Take it in your hands and stroke him while you lick him,” Winter said.

“Okay… I’ll give it a try.”

Minjeong gave you a couple more licks, bringing her head down, and up. Her mouth was salivating and it wetted your cock completely. Then she placed her slender fingers, awkwardly holding you with excessive care. ‘You can hold it tighter,’ you whispered. Minjeong nodded.

She jerked you off, your cock slick in her palm. Uncertain about her rhythm, she alternated between fast and slow. Her fingers were thin and delicate but they were enough to make you desperate. 

The licking on the head of your cock wasn’t stopping. Minjeong continued, slowly easing to a more regular rhythm as you began to moan.

Winter let her original do all the work, while like a snake, she wrapped herself around your shoulders, whispering in your ear: “She looks really hot licking you, doesn’t she?” she giggled. “I know you’ve waited so long. You’ve been patient. I can’t wait to suck your cock with her…”

“Use your lips too dear,” Winter said. “No teeth.”

Minjeong placed her lips on the tip of your penis and started lightly sucking it. She looked more confident than before. Her hand continued jerking you off, her cheeks sunk in to give you small suckles, while her lips brushed her saliva away. 

You started to moan more deeply. You couldn’t help it. You placed your hand behind her neck this time. You weren’t sure what this meant for you—were you too stimulated and needed some support, were you praising her, were you caressing her—but for Minjeong it meant, “go deeper”.

So she did.

She lowered her head further until her lips touched her fingers and her tongue fully coated your frenulum. Your hips jolted for a moment. It seemed to please Minjeong a lot, who started to suck with more passion.

“You look really cute sucking his cock…” Winter commented again with her lowly seductive voice. “What about you, do you like her?”

“Yeah,” you said in a single breath.

“Minjeong, I want you to take him deeper.”

Minjeong raised her head, detaching herself from you. A big strand of thickened saliva pooled down from her lips to to her hands. “I can’t take them that deep…” she said in a tiny voice as she wiped the liquid from her face. Her eyebrows curved down in a worried frown.

“Don’t be silly, you’re me,” she said. “You can do it. Besides you dreamt about it every night. Taking his cock right down your throat to the deepes–”

“Stop! I’ll do it. Just,” Minjeong blurted out, “shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Just put him in your mouth. You have to relax your throat.”

Minjeong gulped and opened her mouth as wide as possible. Her warm breath made you stand taller. She wrapped her small hand around the base of your penis, to guide to her. You could feel it slide through her tongue, her lips grazing your skin, enveloping you completely.

She stopped midway.  You could feel the bump of her tongue with your tip. That warmth and wetness were already making your heart race, your breath was short and quick.

“Thaaaat’s right. Good,” she said. “But you can go deeper. Mmmmh. Show him how much you love him, how much you love his cock.” The last sentence sounded way too lewd. The growl from Winter shocked you. It was almost demonic, of pure lust and desire.

Minjeong took you deeper and seemed to struggle at first but then your penis touched the back of your throat. You weren’t breathing anymore and neither was she. She squinted her eyes, trying to keep you there, nice and snuck, until she couldn’t anymore and had to come up to catch her breath. 

The moment she took you out, you gasped. 

“I-I’m sorry, was that too much?” Minjeong mumbled.

“Don’t worry. He liked it!”

“Is that true? Did you, um, like it?”

“It… it was amazing, Minjeong. I’ve never felt this before.”

“Oh, that’s a relief! Okay,” Minjeong smiled, puffing her cheeks. She looked adorable, cute. Just like before the whole deal started. Just that this time, she was covered in spit and her eyes were slightly pink.

“Let me show you,” Winter said, taking you away from Minjeong. She put her hand on your cock and started stroking you up and down, while she was explaining. She picked up all of her previous spit that pooled on your crotch, using at lube. Somehow, she knew the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm.

“I know just how to take my his cock. Watch me. You move your tongue like this,” she pulled her tongue out, “and sucking, like gasping just a little will allow you to get his cock down without gagging as much, well unless you want to. You can slowly take him in. Like this…”

For the demonstration, Winter tried to take it in as slowly as possible, that took a lot of holding back, you could tell. She blinked a few times, her eyes crossed on your penis as it slowly slipped inside of her throat. Her throat was the same as Minjeong but her technique was completely different, this time it was smoother, tighter, and deeper.

She held you there, her lips planted right on your crotch, balls deep. You continued to gasp, feeling the twitches of her flesh caressing you and her throat trying to swallow you down. It was about ten seconds later that she decided to take you out. 

You were left disappointed but now was Minjeong’s turn.

“Like that. Now you try,” Winter said casually, whipping her lips clean.

“Okay. I’m going to try my best,” she agreed and then looked at you. “Can you keep your hand on me?”

You pat Minjeong’s head again, like a little puppy. She smiles cutely and closes her eyes as you rub her head. She giggles and smiles brightly. “Okay, now,” she said and focused. You kept your hand on top of her head, trying to guide her in.

She did just as Winter said, sticked her tongue out, gasped and let you in. She struggled again but this time she actually took you all the way in. She kissed your crotch and puffed up her cheeks. You could feel her moan, the vibration caressed your whole skin, you must have hit a good spot. 

Then she took you out. 

“I did it!” Minjeong exclaimed.

“You did so well, baby,” you said and continued patting her.

“Hehe, I like it when you compliment me,” Minjeong mumbled. She wasn’t usually like that. Well, she did become very touchy sometimes and demand your hugs when she drank too much, but she was never this… submissive. You glanced at Winter with a suspicious gaze. She just giggled and raised her shoulders.

“She’s just cock-drunk.”

Minjeong took you again, deeper than before. And when she couldn’t hold it anymore, she took you out, caught her breath, and went again. Again and again. And then she made a discovery: she didn’t need to take your cock out of her mouth to breath, just half was good. She maintained a constant suction, leaving you no rest at all.

“You’re so good Minjeong, your throat feels like heaven.”

After a minute of slow bobbing she made a second discovery: having you graze her throat actually felt good. So then she started bobbing her head up and down, just small centimeters, enough to feel you go in and out of her throat. She continued her moderate bobbing, gasping, and moaning, while her thick spit went everywhere. She was affectionate and sucked with passion, she really wanted to make you feel good, and she loved you.

“God, you’re making me lose my mind,” you moaned as well. Minjeong loved your moans. That and your hands on her head made sure she knew how good you were feeling and she just wanted to suck you more.

Winter giggled and brushed your ear. “Isn’t she doing so good?” she whispered. “Wow, all the way down. I’m a little jealous…”

“You know,” she started. “I think you should fuck her face. I think she might like it…”

It was like her words took control of your body. You kinda wanted it but you also wanted to be gentle for her but you stood up. Minjeong stopped and breathed heavily. She looked at you with confusion as she didn’t hear her counterpart. 

“Dear, why are you standing? Is everything okay?” she asked. You didn’t answer as your knees were getting weak but you didn’t want to leave her hanging either. You put both of your hands on her head and patted her, playing with her hair, caressing her gently. “Ah… I love it when you run your fingers through my hair…”

“Minjeong, do you want to feel him take...a bit more control?”

Minejong looked at you with her puppy eyes, submissive and innocent. “I-I’d be okay with that. I trust you.” She held the hand on her head. “Mmm, I trust your touch. I know you’ll be gentle. I’m ready. I promise. Guide your cock into my throat, please.” You wonder how such a pure girl could pronounce suck lewd and naughty words with the same innocence as when she asked for cuddles.

You stand up and she follows you on her knees, holding your thighs. You kinda of felt bad for her, she had to be the only one to stay on the floor, but she looked more than happy. You pushed back into her, as gently as possible. Minjeong wiggled her head to take you in with a slurp and started lightly sucking on you, with care and love. With both of your hands on her head, you started pushing in and out of her mouth.

At first, you only used your hands at a slow pace. You wanted to make sure she got used to the feeling. You didn’t want to be too rough. But then she got more enthusiastic, you could tell she was buckling her head herself, telling you to go faster.

So you did.

You start moving your hips as well, properly fucking her pretty mouth. It was a moderate pace, you were still afraid of hurting her. She felt amazing, out of this world. If her mouth was already pleasurable before, now with the rhythm, it was ecstatic. 

You almost got carried away when you heard the wet sloppy sounds of her spit pooling out of her lips. You had to stop yourself. You pulled out and saw Minjeong coughing. You quickly brushed her face with worry.

“Are you okay?”, you asked.

She looked at you with resolution. “Please, don’t stop.”

Who were you to refuse? You were back in no time and fucked her face even faster than before. Now she started moaning, the vibration of her voice adding to the pleasure. Your legs start shaking and you moan together with her. Moans, slop, and plops, the sound of spit and her mouth were all you could hear.

“Oh wow. It’s so hot watching you fuck her face like that,” Winter coos. “I feel left out… Do you want my mouth and throat, too?”

She put her hands on you, it’s a seductive hypnotizing touch that took your mind out of the moment. You stare at her, blinking vividly, and you slowly stop fucking Minjeong’s face. Winter must have been a succubus, there was no way she was just a “manifestation of Winter’s desire��. She controlled your every muscle, every thought. You reluctantly let go of Minjeong’s head altogether and turn to Winter.

“Why did you stop?” your friend asked needly.

“Because it’s my turn, he’s gonna fuck my throat now.”

Winter’s knees are already on the floor. She crawls towards your crotch. Her eyes are already more riled up than yours. She sticks her tongue out and you’re buried deep inside her throat. She doesn’t gag at all, instead, she starts giggling and sucking you violently. Her hands on your buttocks help her pull your cock inside of her. 

You give her slow hard fucks. You try to break her throat. The wet mess that is her mouth is way too pleasurable for you to hold back. There comes a point where you stop caring and start fucking her throat as rough as you can.

Fast and rough, hard and deep. Every thrust brings you closer to the edge. Your eyes roll back into your head, slowly but surely, and your mind fogs up. You can only feel pleasure, pleasure, and hunger for more.

You went on for so long, you were even surprised at yourself you could last that long. It must’ve been Winter’s doing. 

You were two thrusts away from cumming when you stopped. Actually, you didn’t stop, it was Winter again who pushed you away. She slurped all her spit and cleared her throat. 

“You know I loved it but I didn’t want to keep you all for myself. I want Minjeong to taste your cum too,” she declared and pushed you back down into the bed. Winter continues to work on your cock with small licks and suckles. She gestures for Minjeong to come closer and join her. She does.

Now both of the Minjeongs are licking and sucking you, with such eagerness and hunger, that you were wondering who the original was. But you didn’t have enough brain left to think about it.

Thinking about it, Minjeong was being a lot more affectionate, mixing her licks with little kisses, she was sloppy and inexperienced. Winter was being a lot rougher, her licks were fast, and she sucked you hard enough that she could have left hickeys on you. Both of their faces were smushed together trying to claim more of you from the other.

But you couldn’t last long. You came right after.

You came harder than you ever did.

Strings of thick cum came raining down on their faces. They both stopped in surprise and admired the cum shooting out of your helpless cock. It was a piece of art. Both of them were painted white. Your penis continued to twitch and contract even when there was no more cum left—the pleasure was too much.

Winter went right back with gentle long strokes of tongue to clean up after their mess. She swallowed your cock once again, to suck up all the cum that was left. 

Minjeong instead slowly picked up the cum from her face and stared at it in the palm of her hand. It took her a moment to decide that she wanted to taste it. She licked it. Picked more and ate it. She continued to brush all the cum from her face and hair and licked it right up, like a cat trying to clean her paws.

Heavily breathing and with your heart still pounding, Winter flashed you a very bright smile. “So what do you want to do now?” she asked you. 

“Huh?” you responded. Your mind was still cloudy.

“You can do anything you want. What’s your next move?”

You breathed a couple of times and swallowed. “I want… I’d like to return the favor, Minjeong.”

“Eh?!” Minjeong jolted up. “W-what are you saying?”

“I want to eat you out, Minjeong,” you said with more resolution.

“You’re being too direct.”

“Come on, have you seen what we have just done? There is really no point in hiding now.”

“You’re right…”

“Oh my, you’re so selfless, baby,” Winter joined the conversation. “It’s okay, I can help with this too. After all, this was one of Minjeong’s desires as well. I have the full knowledge.”

“Please, will you ever stop saying this embarrassing stuff?” Minjeong pleaded.

“No, hehe” she giggled.

Minjeong replaced your spot on the bed, but this time she sat right in the middle and you crawled before her. She spreads her legs. The action makes her blush terribly but you’re just as embarrassed. You position in between her thighs and awkwardly smile at her. “I’m– I’m kind of nervous.”

“Well are you gonna leave me here with my legs open, you jerk?” Minjeong teased you.

To break the ice again, you softly kiss Minjeong’s lips, trailing down to her neck. While you’re sucking her skin, your fingers make her towards her heat. Softly brushing her legs, her thighs, and then her panties. Your fingers start playing with the drenched cotton. It had already absorbed all her juices, one squeeze and it would’ve overflown right onto the bed.

“You’re so wet, Minjeong.”

“Please don’t say that,” she said breathily.

You moved down, bringing her panties away. Your breath hits her very core. You stand low, admiring her pussy, completely wet and excited. “You smell sweet,” you said before placing a kiss between her lower lips. She let out a soft moan of anticipation.

You then started licking her pussy and clit with your full tongue. Minjeong moaned louder and her hands immediately strapped to your head for support. Your tongue started moving around and licking her wildly.

The feeling of your warm breathing hitting her core and your tongue making swirls around her clit was a feeling she had never felt before. “That’s so good, baby,” she moaned. You inserted a finger into her hole and your tongue continued to lick onto her bead.

Second finger in, Minjeong let out another lewd moan. “You taste so good, Minjeong.”

“Wait—you have to slow down! Hhhngg, I’ll cum!”

And that’s what you wanted. The continuous licks and motion of your fingers send Minjeong to her high. Her pussy continued to let juices flow out of her hole, which you licked right up with excitement. She could feel the knots forming inside her stomach and her back beginning to arch more and more with each pump, and each lick.

The poor girl couldn’t hold it in anymore. She was twitching everywhere, the pressure inside of her was begging to overflow and her toes and fingers all curled up in an attempt to resist.

Eventually, she let out the most lewd noise that you had heard yet. “Fuck!” as she came. Her pussy let out thick transparent cum, with such a lewd noise as well. You slurped it all up. It was as sweet as all her other juices. With her hands still on your head Minjeong is breathing heavily and looking at you with surprise as you’re still cleaning her up.

Jaw still open, there is a vague smile on her face.

But she wasn’t satisfied and neither was Winter, especially her. She was here for a reason, to make sure Minjeong’s darkest deepest desire came true. Unfortunately, fortunately for you, it wasn’t simply kissing you, which you have already surpassed by now, and it wasn’t pleasuring you either. It was, to put it simply, to have you cum inside her, but you didn’t know that.

“It’s time for the main course, dear,” Winter said, amused at your little work with her twin.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, we aren’t done,” she said, giving you a confused glance. She wondered why she even had to explain it, of course, you weren’t finished. “You have to…” with a softer voice, “put it in.”

“Uhhhh…”

Winter smacked her lips. “I can understand why you’d be nervous, but don’t tell you me you don’t want to. After all, you haven’t been this hard throughout this whole… ‘interaction’, and I only mentioned the possibility of fucking her.” She giggled and brushed your shoulder. “Look at you, so excited.”

You turned around to search for Minjeong’s opinion but you could only find her cloudy, drugged eyes. She was mindlessly staring at you, full of lust and desire, her lower lips were slightly twitching at your sight. Goosebumps all over, she didn’t need any more time to recover from her previous orgasm, that was her warmup.

She stretches her arm to grab the back of your neck and pulls you into her lips for a soft kiss. “Please, don’t you want it as well? We have already come so far… I don’t think I’ll have that courage again,” she told you in a weak airy voice.

Minjeong was ready. She was ready to take you.

“Alright,” you decided.

Minjeong’s pussy was already dripping wet, warm, and stretched, waiting for you to come in. The demon on your shoulder was caressing your ear the whole time, whispering words of lewd and temptation, encouraging you to act. 

You grab your penis and inch yourself closer to her already parted legs. You position yourself and after Minjeong’s nod of approval, you start lowering yourself into her, steadily, slowly. You stare at your cock disappearing into her folds. The girl whines helplessly and you groan when your shaft finally enters completely, breaking her lock and burying itself completely inside her.

She moans loudly and instinctively hugs you, searching for support. 

You never forget your first time, they say. The first thrust is always the hardest, it makes you grit your teeth. The first time you feel something so tight and warm. Never in your life have you felt such wetness, your lower body stiffens and you already want to cum.

After breaking her lock, every sort of profanity seeps out of Minjeong’s lips. “Fuck! So… full…!”

It takes time for Minjeong to get used to the burn from the stretch. She could feel your every throb and pulse inside of her, so snug and tight. She quickly gets used to this new feeling and finally finds herself begging you to move. 

You’re being careful, not to push too deep and not hurt her more than necessary. But Minjeong liked it. She wanted to feel you against her cervix, your tip brushing against it, and she pulled you deeper and deeper with every thrust, with her ankles clenched around your hips.

Your mind had already lost it. Reduced to grunts and curses, you only knew to push and pull into her pussy, worshipping the beautiful body of your greatest love with the deep motion of your hips. “You’re amazing, Minjeong. You’re—ugh—incredibly tight,” you said. You wanted to let her know. Your movements still don’t stop and you find it a great feat to let out any words at all.

Minjeong responds with a couple more of her moans. Something the lines of ‘Why did you take so long to finally fuck me like this?’ and you were sure to make up for the lost time.

You switch the pace in a desperate attempt to make yourself last longer. Your hips live her and slam against her again, hard, with glistening slick strings stretching between your and her skin. She’s wet, incredibly wet. Everything is too slow for Minjeong, too slow for how desperate she was but you were doing great. You hit exactly the right spot, that exact spot to drive her crazy. All her past frustrations come back with vengeance, building up in her belly, reaching a crazy strong pressure. 

Minjeong’s screams are almost silent, breaking against her vocal cords. Her body finally succumbs to the insurmountable pressure and pleasure of your penis, and she finally cums. She grips you tightly and roughly pulls you into her body, finding comfort in your warmth and weight.

“It’s okay, let it go…” you murmur against her wet skin.

You gently pull out of her, letting yourself rest against her lips and two fingers on her pulsing clit to help her ride her orgasm out. However, you get the opposite reaction. It might have been the heightened sensitivity from her previous orgasm, or how wound up she had been for this long, but your fingers push her over the limit. Another screech and she’s convulsing again, the pressure building up again, and all of a sudden she’s gushing, spraying your arms, sheet, and wetting your whole body.

Her hips buckled and twitched while streams of squirt poured out of her twitching cunt. Her moans were loud, desperate, and helpless. 

“Oh my god, look at her go,” Winter said with a great smug plastered on her face. “Good job,” she said with an even more seductive tone, “look at your work. Look at how totally drenched the sheets are.”

As she talked, her hand came to wrap your cock. She started to stroke you, slowly, and carefully. It was a strange feeling. You were ready to burst, your penis was rock hard, and you were on the edge. But no matter how much she touched you, you just couldn’t cum, it was a constant edging.

“Mh? Wondering why you can’t cum?” she giggled. “Let’s just say it’s a little magic of mine…” 

She turned around to Minjeong, “And to think you were trying to deny it just moments ago and you came so hard. Fucking slut you are.”

“Shut up,” Minjeong replied weakly. She was still trying to recover from her violent orgasm.

Winter laughed with amusement and let you lie down. “Do you think you’ll make me cum as well? But let me tell you something first: I’m the one in charge.”

Her fingers suddenly clamp tightly on your cock, straighened out, she aligned you and sunk you inside of her. It was a totally different feeling. Way sloppier, way wetter, way tighter. You couldn’t believe they were the same person. It was like her pussy was trying to milk everything out of you, clamping down with a choking grip. 

Winter wastes no time and starts jumping on you, with hard pumps. She knocks the air out of your lungs. It was an aggressively fast pace, paired with her tightness, you were already going to cum. But you couldn’t cum. Winter had you on the palm of your hands. 

“So helpless, I bet you want to cum, don’t you?” she laughed.

“Please slow down,” you begged. 

Soon enough, her hips slow down. She remains glued to you, twisting and moving her hips around, your cock swishing inside her pussy. You could feel every single fold of her pussy, she was inviting you to explore the inside of her body. 

It didn’t last long though. There you go, Winter was pounding you inside of her again, with wild hips. You wondered how could she move that fast, even you couldn’t do it. Your hand was just a tiny bit faster than her, which was extremely impressive. 

Your mind was broken. You had difficulty moaning—the pleasure was spreading all the other parts of your body, your fingers were jittery, you curled your toes, and started salivating. 

“Fuck, finally, that’s good…” she exhaled. Her own pleasure was her goal but it was inevitable that you were going to be broken as well.

She stopped once again. With slow forceful strokes, she got up and smashed herself down. It was intense, you had to admit. 

Letting you cum was an act of compassion. She pulled you out and let you spurt your semen everywhere. You covered her tummy and yourself. You collapsed immediately from the exhaustion. Winter lowered herself and started cleaning you, licking your hypersensitive head, and swiping up all the strings and droplets of cum.

“You did a great job, handsome,” she congratulated you with your cock in her mouth. “Didn’t think you’d last that long without passing out.”

“You’re… you’re crazy,” you said with a faint voice.

“Sure, I’m not even human,” she giggles. “Pull yourself together, handsome. We’re not done yet.”

The Deja Vu makes you stand up. “What do you mean?” Her response is a wet kiss. She swivels her tongue inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue and inside of your mouth. A small peck and you’re hard again. 

“Consider that a little help,” she said.

You feel two hands hugging you from behind. It’s Minjeong. She sounds tired but determined. “I haven’t made you cum yet,” she whispered.

“It’s fine, I don’t—”

“It wasn’t an offer.”

When you look at her, your blood runs cold. Pure lust. Pure desire. Pure libido. Stripped of her innocence, there was nothing different from Minjeong and Winter anymore. Strangely enough, her eyes alone were enough to get you riled up. Seeing her desiring you so much got you in the mood as well.

Again she laid on the bed before you, but there was something different this time. Her eyes were a lot more inviting, needy, and she made it clear as with her two hands, she stretched out her pussy, inviting you in. You watch her pink folds slowly open up, completely drenched and tight. You couldn’t resist such a naughty sight.

You slide yourself inside and it’s heaven all over again. Holding onto your arms, you fucked her hard and deep. With her cunt utterly drenched from the non-stop cumming, every thrust was a loud sloppy mess. Her grip was demanding. Her pussy gripped you tight, with her lips glued onto you, trying their best not to let you slip out.

“Don’t worry about me,” Minjeong said. “You can be as rough as you want…”

You were already exhausted but her words could only fire you up even more. You had lost all control of yourself, you pounded her with desperation. 

Her face was contorted in frowns and grimaces of overstimulated pleasure. You got lost in her eyes. They desired you, they wanted you. 

“Please, please, I need you to cum inside of me.”

Minjeong made herself clear. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Her legs wrapped around your waist and locked you against her pelvis. She squeezed you, forcing you to go even deeper into her wet pussy. You continued pounding her as much as possible, trying to enjoy your last moments. 

“I’m really gonna cum now,” you warned her.

“Do it,” was all she said.

You couldn’t hold it in. With Minjeong’s nails deep into your skin, her legs tightly locked around your hips, and her lips quivering in your ear with that needy lustful voice of hers: “Please, I want it inside. I want you to cum inside me… please,” you couldn’t do anything else but fulfill her desire.

You grunted as you cum so deep inside her womb.  Minjeong had complete control over you, leaving you with no choice but to release more of your semen into her. Her tight walls eagerly accepted every intense release, filling her with an abundance of creamy fluid. The relentless contractions and pulsations continued as she milked you completely dry, not allowing a single drop to escape. Even after that, you couldn't resist the urge to keep thrusting, pushing your messy and heated load deeper and deeper inside her.

As soon as you pulled away from her warm embrace, Minjeong loosened the tight hold her arms had around you, and sat upright on the bed with her legs spread wide open. You cam so deep inside of her that it took a great effort of pushing and squeezing for your cum to finally pour out of her. With her wet pussy lips on display, you both observed as your cum trickled out of her—a steady stream of white liquid that left a mark on her thighs.

"Wow, you totally filled me up," she inquired, breathing heavily, as she slid a finger into her wet pussy and provocatively licked it clean. “Was that too lewd?” she giggled.

“Yeah, totally,” you responded and laughed with her.

“Don’t you think you’re forgetting someone?” Winter cooed, grabbing your chin. “I think you still got some more juice inside those balls. They don’t look empty to me.”

“Is that fine, Minjeong?” you asked. Unsure. At this point, with your seed inside of her, she probably had some kind of right over you. 

“Oh, what a gentleman you are,” Winter said. “But just so you know, I am not leaving until you fill me up to the brim.”

“If that’s what she wants,” Minjeong sighed. “I don’t want to deal with her anymore.”

“Come on, what are you waiting? Are you gonna cum inside of me or what?”

You don’t want to make her wait any longer. You force Winter’s face down to the mattress. Ass up, hands on her lips, she’s full spread, ready to take you in. One single push and you slip inside. There is no need to warm up again, no need to pick up the pace. Her pussy was already molten and shaped to accommodate your cock perfectly.

You quicken your pace, Minjeong rests with her back fully arched to help you reach her deepest spots. Your cockhead taps against her cervix, arousing you more than it should. 

Your hands kneed her asscheeks with greed. It only turns her on, your lips grip you with fierce. Her hole tightens and twitches as you mistreat her pussy.

Winter laughs and moans with joy. “Oh my god, yes!” She squeals. In a sudden burst of energy, she fucks herself back on your cock. “Come on, give me your cum!”

“Fucking cumslut. You’ll get all of it.”

Your hands grab her waist tightly, pulling her hips right into your crotch. Minjeong plants kisses on your neck and lips, to encourage you. The warmth of her breath itches your ears, causing pleasure to the upper part of your body as well. She surrenders completely to you, allowing you to have your way with her. Or maybe it was the other way around and you were her slave, fucking her just how she wanted. 

You couldn’t let Minjeong standing there. You turn around and give your attention to her breasts. They are just the right size to fondle, and you do so generously upon discovering how sensitive they are. You roughly sick on her nipples, pulling on them with your lips and licking them to make her squirm and whimper. She hugs your head, pleading you to continue. 

“Oh God, it only took you one girl to get this good?” Winter mumbles.

“Fuck!" she swears right after. Just like Minjeong, of course, like her clone, she is a messy squirter. 

Winter’s spurts make a total mess of your room. Her climax is intense and drenches the whole floor. Spurts of squirt shoot out from her hole onto the tiled surface and your body, causing her to grip your shaft so tightly that it completely overwhelmed you and triggers your orgasm as well. Although your moans are embarrassingly loud, they are drowned out by Winter's ecstatic cries.

Her cries are shrill compared to the mature and seductive tone she had blessed you with until now. You don't pullout, you can’t. To do so would be to defy her orders. 

You pour all the rest of your cum inside of her with the assistance of the spasm of her vagina, which milked you till the last drop. It takes you a couple of minutes to recover from the mind-numbing orgasm when you finally pull out to witness your cum rushing out of her pussy.

Winter laughs with satisfaction, laying lifelessly on the bed, her hair disheveled, her body ruined. You lean into Minjeong, who was holding you on for support.

“That was your third load? It was so much,” Winter said. “God, I’m sure would have gotten pregnant if I was human…”

“Wait, what about me?”

The color drained from Minjeong’s face, her smile disappeared as the weight of the situation sank in. The fun and excitement of the moment evaporated, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. Your hands hands, which had been vigorously grabbing Minjeong’s waist, now clenched nervously. Her heart pounded as they exchanged worried glances.

“Right,” you said. “I- I just came inside of you.”

“What’s gonna happen?” she asked you.

“You might— no, you will definetly get pregnant.”

“Don’t worry guys,” Winter said. “I put a little spell on you, you won’t get pregnant.”

“Really?!” you almost screamed.

“Yeah,” she said.

The tension in the air broke like a popped balloon. You and Minjeong’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and you let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Your hearts, which had been pounding moments ago, began to slow to a normal rhythm. Your clenched hands opened, and a tentative smile returned to your face. Minjeong’s eyes, wide with worry, softened with immense relief.

You glanced at each other, grins spreading as the weight of their fears lifted.

"I really thought I messed up," you said, your voice filled with a mixture of amusement and relief.

Minjeong’s face flushed a deep crimson as she started speaking. “Uhm… and how long does this spell last?”

“Oh my god,” Winter laughed. “You want him to cum inside you again?”

“No! No– I mean…”

“To celebrate you two I’ll make it last a week, just for you two.”

“Oh, thanks…” Minjeong smiled shily.

“Well, my job here is done,” Winter said, standing up on her wobbly legs. You could see the cum still dripping down her legs, with droplets of squirt painting the floor.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” you said.

“Yeah, thank you,” Minjeong repeated after you.

“I had fun guys. Farewell,” she said one last time and disappeared with sparkles falling to the floor. 

Both of you remained still for a few seconds reflecting on what just happened.

Minjeong played with her fingers absentmindedly, her thumb circling around her ring finger. You watched her, your eyes tracing the curve of her hand, the gentle movements of her fingers. The moonlight shined on her skin, her completely naked body. With your lust completely drained, she looked a lot smaller than before.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was gentle and intimate. “What are we now?”

You looked up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were trembling. “What are we?” you echoed. It wasn’t a nice conversation with the both of you smelling like sex and sweat, but it was necessary.

She nodded, waiting for your response. “Yes. You and me. What are we?”

“At this point… you already know how I feel about you,” you said. “And I guess I also know how you feel.” You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I want us to be together.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his again. There was a flicker of something there, a spark of understanding. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked, the words tentative but hopeful.

"Yes," you said, the certainty in your voice surprising even you. It was the first time you were this honest. "Boyfriend and girlfriend."

Minjeong smiled. “Good. I felt the same.”

“Glad we got that out of the way,” you said. “But let’s get cleaned up now.”

Minjeong giggled. “You’re right. Wanna go in together?”

“You… are you not tired?”

“You know, unfortunately, we didn’t get a clone of you to tell me exactly the whole truth about you, so I am not totally convinced… Take my doubt away. Show me how much you really love me.”

THE END

Written, January 5 2024 - June 26 2024

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 26: Heavy heart, truthful words

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Non sexy choking [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

"What has you so anxious?"

You snap up from the book you're reading, your back resting against a tree in a courtyard. Hermione looks at you with raised eyebrows, as she points towards your bouncing feet. 

"It's nothing", you dismiss as you tuck your feet under yourself. "Too much sugar at breakfast."

The Gryffindor girl gives you a look, one you choose to ignore in favour of re-reading the same page for the nth time. You can't focus on the words. Your body is jittery with anticipation. 

Your foot doesn't stop twitching until you spot an owl flying in your direction. Sitting up straight, you take the letter from the owl's claws and thank the animal with a scratch on its head.

Unfolding the letter, you read the simple message in the familiar handwriting.

Classroom 24C 14:00

You check your watch. You've got ten minutes. 

With a quick snap of your book, you're on your feet. "I have to go. See you at dinner." You send a hastened smile before you practically run towards the classroom.

You try to catch your breath once you enter and lock the door of said classroom. The fireplace is lit, emitting a soft glow around the room. Your eyes survey the classroom, in search of someone. But it's empty. 

Suddenly, the flames turn a poisonous green and it makes you turn your head. You wait for a moment to see if someone's coming through. But as the flames stay calm it's clear it's you who has to enter through.

Closing your eyes, you step into the fireplace with a big inhale of air. You get pulled and squished from all sides until you come to an abrupt stop and roll out of the other fireplace. You huff and quickly jump on your feet, dusting your robes off.

You stand in the tea room of Grimmault Place. Sirius's not far removed from the fireplace, anxiously pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips. Remus Lupin sits on one of the sofas, a woman with bright pink hair next to him. Nymphadora Tonks

As soon as Sirius notices your arrival, he's on you in a second. He holds you at arms-length as he turns you around to all sides, checking up on you. "Are you alright? What's happened? You're not hurt, are you? You don't look hurt."

To be fair, you've sent a pretty cryptic letter. I need to talk to you, was the only thing you wrote.

His worry about you brings a warm but unfamiliar feeling to your belly. You lay a hand on one of his, giving him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'm fine. It's not me that's it about."

You hesitate for a moment. Are you really doing this? If this reaches the Dark Lord it would mean your death, heir or not.

With slow movements, you take off your school robes so you're only in your blouse and skirt. You also take your wand out of your robe pockets and place it on the table where the three Order members can see it. "For my safety", you explain as they look at you weirdly.

Clasping your hands together, you take a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy has been ordered by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore. As punishment for his father's failed attempt to get the prophecy." You cut straight to the chase, seeing no need to mince your words.

Remus blinks rapidly, processing your words. "How... how do you know this information?"

"Because... I was there... when he branded Draco with the Dark Mark and gave him his mission." Tears well in your eyes, the agony in your cousin's eyes flashing through your mind.

The mood is tense between the four of you. You basically confessed to having seen Voldemort in real life. In close proximity.

"Why should we believe you? For all we know you could just fabricate this story to get attention." Remus raises from the couch, towering over you. You take a cautious step back as you swallow.

Sirius is quick to jump in your defence. "Now Moony, just slow down okay? Don't accuse her of something as it could be true."

"Draco cursed Katie Bell. He... he hexed her or something so she would take the package with the cursed necklace. To Dumbledore. There is also a Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts! I do not know where the other one is."

"Arthur Weasley was tipped off by Harry that there was a Vanishing Cabinet in Bourgin and Burke's. Maybe it's paired with the one in Hogwarts", Tonks intercepts Remus calmly, looking at you before back to Remus.

"Harry?"

Sirius hums. "He's been suspicious of Draco for a while now. But I wonder; is You Know Who so desperate to kill Dumbledore that he initiates a sixteen-year-old?"

You scoff humourlessly as you run a hand over your face. "Believe me, he also makes them take the Mark way younger."

Everybody stills and you know you've said too much. Sirius and you look at each other in shock. He slowly takes steps towards you until he's right in front of you. "What do you mean?"

Your bottom lip wobbles, tears threatening to spill out. You shake your head scared. He keeps staring at you until you break. "I didn't want to. He expected it of me and gave me no choice", your voice is unsteady as a single tear rolls over your cheek. "Don't hurt me, please." Your plea comes out in a whisper.

Sirius reaches out slowly to your left arm, pulling up your sleeve to reveal the bandages you have been wearing for almost two years now. You shake your head shakely, silently begging him to not do it. 

"Please don't, Sirius."

But he ignores you. He untwists the bandages from your arm until it falls on the ground, the Dark Mark visible for everyone to see.

In an instant, Remus is upon you. He wraps a hand around your throat and points his wand in your face, the tip pressing into your cheek. "Did you tip someone off? Hmm? Does someone know you are here?"

Whimpers escape your restricted throat, tears now freely flowing over your cheeks. "No! No! I promise! Nobody knows! Please!"

Remus growls. He actually growls. He presses his wand deeper into your cheek and restricts your airflow even more.

"Let her go, Remus!" Tonks intercepts, pointing her own wand at the ex-teacher. "She's a child. She couldn't have stopped it even if she wanted to."

Remus' hand disappears from your throat and you slide down, coughing wildly and gasping for air. You hug your knees, sobbing. "I didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt the muggle. And he killed him. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You rock back and forth, the horrible memories flooding back to you.

You feel arms circle around you and you look up. Tonks gives you a slight smile before pulling you up on your feet and helping you to one of the couches.

Sirius appears before you with a glass of water and your wand in his hand. He holds both out to you. You hesitate for a moment, but only take the glass with water.

"When did it happen?" He drops to eye level, his eyes showing only concern.

You swallow a gulp of water, your face contorting painfully. "Summer break before fifth year." Your voice is raspy.

"Do you know why he chose you?"  

The answer lies like lead on your tongue. You're unable to move your lips. To give him a concrete answer. "Because... because I am the Heir of Slytherin."

You wait for it to sink in, your eyes trained on the ground, tracing the shapes of the Persian rug. 

Sirius starts to sputter out half sentences. Tonks pulls a weird face. "So that means You Know Who and my aunt..? Ugh. Gross." 

Her comment makes you scoff in humour. "He was good-looking when he was younger." You also pull a face as you realise you called your father hot. "Ugh indeed."

"No. No joking. This is not a joking matter! Who knows? Does Dumbledore know?" Remus butts in irritated.

You nod. "Yes, he knows. I told him in my second year. Only my family and the Death Eaters that have been around Malfoy Manor know if the Dark Lord being... my father. And Theodore Nott."

"Is he also one?"

You wildly shake your head. "No. And I never want him to be one. If I can, I'll try to prevent him. I don't want to curse him with this too..."

Glancing towards Sirius, you say, "Harry does not know. And I do not want him to know. Please don't tell him."

Sirius takes your hand, squeezing it. "This is your secret to tell, not mine."

You linger around Grimmault Place until you're calmed down. Sirius has given you some Wiggenweld to help you with your throat and you can barely feel it now.

As you stand before the fireplace, robes back on you and wand in your hand, you turn to Sirius. He lays his hands on your shoulders before giving you a bear hug. "You protected me and now I'll do everything in my power to protect you. I promise you."

You smile and give him one last squeeze. Tonks also hugs you, but it's more curt. "Next time we'll meet it should be to get to know each other, cousin." You give her a shy nod. Remus stands in the back and looks at you, not saying anything.

"I don't know when I'll be able to send any more letters, but I hope to see you soon." And with that, you disappear in the green flames and go back to Hogwarts.

Your heart is heavy but you're so glad that you finally told Sirius. 

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @mythicalamphitrite @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Hidden Oracle: Chapter 19 (SPOILERS)

"They have gone missing?" What'd I tell you? They're in Peru.

"vegan cupcakes" Iris?

"a subterranean amphitheater . . . Tiers of stone seats ringed a sandy pit about the right size for a gladiator fight. Hanging from the ceiling were dozens of thick iron chains." Antaeus. So this is what happened to the arena. I guess the monsters took all the dangling skulls as souvenirs on their way out.

"We were back in the woods." WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU. WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU. THE LABYRINTH WILL DO THAT. IT WILL DROP YOU BACK IN THE WOODS BECAUSE IT DOESN'T FUCKING CARE WHAT ITS ROUTE WAS LAST WEEK; IT CHANGES EVERY DAY AND IT MAKES ITS PATHS SPECIFICALLY TO SPITE YOU.

"I fear one more team is still missing... your children, Kayla and Austin." NO not them! Peru has taken them! Darn good motivator, though. 2/3 Apollo kids down. Will is next.

"I have upped the stakes . . . Somehow he had targeted my children." The Beast doesn't control the Labyrinth, does he? We've taken care of the Minotaur, Minos, Daedalus, the Minotaur again, Pasiphaë... There's no one left who could possibly lay claim to the maze (other than Harley, apparently), right? I guess there are Theseus and that princess that Daedalus was tutoring, but the Beast sounds like neither of them. Wow, the Labyrinth really got around, though.

"Paolo had managed to get one of his legs sawed off." Paolo, buddy, at this point I think you can just ask to sit it out and Chiron would let you skip the race. Anyway, 3/4. Next time, it'll be the other leg and maybe his head.

"Billie Ng had come down with a case of Irish step dancing." How did that happen in a maze? What trap set that off? Oh. Oh, you know, it was probably one of the Apollo campers taking out the competition.

"'It's my fault,' [Harley] muttered. 'I got them lost. I... I'm sorry.'" Wow. He was rooting for someone to die, but as soon as a couple people get lost, he's suddenly softhearted? Jkjk it's nice to see that he does care. "I realized the little boy was terrified of what I might do." Oh, that makes more sense! Jkjkjkjjjj

"I believe automatons prefer a frequency of E at 329.6 hertz." Aw, he's helping him!

"lovely glowing apple turnovers for breakfast." Don't those apples turn you immortal? Are these gonna be magical apple turnovers? "[Meg] sat next to me on my blanket and began eating a golden apple" Never mind, I guess they're just regular apples that happen to be shiny gold. I guess we're going more Atalanta or Eris than Hesperides.

"If you're a demigod on the streets, you hear about the Beast." That makes it sound like there's a concerning amount of demigods still on the streets despite their parents supposedly claiming them. "He takes people like me . . . To train . . . to use like... servants, soldiers, I don't know." Third demigod camp except it's just a gladiator ring. Or an army. Oh wait, we already have one of those. *side eyes Camp Jupiter*

"He killed my dad." Oh dang. "Being a good demigod, training hard... that's the only way to keep the Beast away." Lol she makes it sound like a scary bedtime story parents tell their kids to make them behave. If you don't go to bed before ten, the Beast'll getcha! He'll bite your toes off! Sounds like Meg's stepdad has some history with the mythical world. I would say he's a clear-sighted mortal or was told about it by Meg's dad like Paul Blofis and Sally, but her stepdad taught her to fight, gladiator-style. Roman demigod, maybe? Or legacy. Or for all we know, he's just an avid historian like how Annabeth's dad knew how to fly a combat helicopter.

"a child of Hermes had recently betrayed the gods by working for Kronos. They might do so again." Hey! Discrimination! Demigodly profiling!

"Painted on the helicopter's side was a bright green logo with the letter D.E." Rachel loves her dramatic helicopter entrances, doesn't she?

Long chapter, this one.

[knamjooned]

The Red Thread (05)

pairing: idol!namjoon (third pov) x fem!reader (first pov) genres: fluff, smut, angst tropes: soulmate au (red string), magical friends, overthinking and not solving problems

summary:

After a tragic event, you find a letter that gets you out of your comfort zone. Meeting Namjoon seems to be simple, but then you see the thread. The string brings about life changing decisions. Are you both ready for it?

chapter warnings: n/a word count: 725 author’s note: cliches are okay sometimes

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~*~ If you enjoy this chapter, please reblog it! ~*~

NAMJOON’S POV

026. Go to a new restaurant

“I’ve never eaten here,” Nathan stated absentmindedly, taking in the atmosphere of the Korean restaurant. Namjoon breathed in the familiar smells of home. The conversations in Korean from the back kitchen were barely loud enough to be heard. He had spoken to the older couple who owned the place, who insisted on making him a homemade meal after hearing he was a native. “I bet it’s hard to find an authentic place when you go to other countries.”

“You’d be surprised,” he replied with a chuckle. There was only room for a handful of customers. Namjoon noticed a lot of take out being handled, with only one person eating at a table near the door. He fixed the forest green beanie was wearing on his head, which he had just gotten at Landia. It had a symbol of a crescent moon the owner had designed. “But it does take a little investigation.”

His mind went back to the store, to the clerk who had seemed to recognize him as he checked out. As soon as he spoke, she had done her best to pretend she hadn’t. Miss Butler had moved the focus over to speaking about customizing clothing, but he couldn't help but glance at her as she dealt with other customers. She had been cool, collected, and charming with them. She was attractive, which would explain why he kept thinking about her.

As he was receiving the food, the bell above the door jingled, making his eyes wander over briefly. He saw the woman from Landia enter slowly, as if she had never been here before. Their eyes locked, time seemed to slow down like in the movies, and his hand missed a plate being given to him from the server. As soon as the plate hit the ground, he blinked and came back to the real world and held back a vulgar curse.

“I’m very sorry,” he apologized repeatedly, embarrassed at the scene he had made in front of the store woman. Nathan watched, trying not to laugh as he drank his beer. Risking more embarrassment, he looked around the dining area to find her. She sat in a far corner, looking at a paper menu, brows furrowed in concentration. Finally, everything was back where it was supposed to be, the broken dish cleaned up and forgotten. Namjoon pressed his lips together, thrown off balance by the moment.

“You…good?” Nathan asked, studying Namjoon’s face. Namjoon cleared his throat and dug into the food more aggressively than he needed. He forced himself not to look toward the corner table and stuffed some noodles into his mouth

“I’m starving.”

“Do you know her?” Nathan’s lips twitched toward a smile as Namjoon choked and coughed a few times. He felt his jaw tense as he glanced back toward the table. She was now talking to a server, a bright smile on her face as she pointed to different things on the paper menu.

“No, she works at Landia, where I got the new clothes.”

“Reminds me of when I met Ashlyn,” Nathan chuckled. He seemed to look into space as the memory made him grin. Namjoon took a smaller bite and let his new friend continue his story. “Jodie was about ten. Her mom and I never had a serious thing,” he added. “Anyway, I had just gotten sole custody. Jodie and I went shopping to celebrate, and Ashlynn worked at that store. I ran into a pillar when I first saw her.”

“Did she see you?”

“I have no idea, she never told me either way,” he admitted, rubbing his forehead fondly.

“I’m only here for so long,” Namjoon sighed, letting his chopsticks sit. Nathan blinked at him, confused. “I can’t start -”

“Jumping ahead, don’t you think?”

“Oh.” Namjoon felt like an idiot, assuming so much when he had nothing to go on. He didn’t even know her name, but was worried about leaving her. Had she even noticed who he was? Maybe she was just naturally shy, which is why she reacted the way she did. Nathan grinned and nodded, like he knew exactly what Namjoon was thinking. “I guess I can introduce myself.”

“Good luck,” Nathan chuckled, holding his beer bottle up then taking a gulp. “I’ll just enjoy the food myself and hang out for a bit.”

[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)

[writing-in-april]

My Date with the President’s Daughter

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer has a date with the President’s daughter, who he’s been dating for a while in partial secret. He hasn’t seen her in person for a while so he’s had to settle for another form of communication.

A/N: Ok just to get this out of the way— this is not a politically charged fic, I don’t express my own political beliefs in this fic nor do I express my opinion on the beliefs of others. The president in this fic is entirely made up and I just thought it would be cool to release it on Inauguration Day like the nerd I am. I do not want a political debate in the comments, this blog is not meant for that. This fic is for fun and to make people a little happier in these trying times. Please respect my wishes. This was a really fun way to write a twist on Spencer dating someone famous and- I wonder if anyone can spot the West Wing reference I used 🤔Thanks to @spencers-dria again for always helping me out with my fics 🥰This is also apart of my unlinked fic series called Spencer Reid & Letters! Requests are open and thank you for reading!

Warning: Vague political talk, References to keeping their relationship secret earlier, Avoiding the paparazzi- that should be it.

Main Masterlist Spencer Reid & Letters Word count: 1.6k

She didn’t have to put her short little letter to me on the back of a postcard, but she always did it this way. I remember when she first told me why she did it. We were sitting cuddled up on my couch at the early start of our relationship. I had asked her why she always insisted she send her letters on the back of a tiny card, she would’ve had so much more room if she got out a piece of paper.

She said she got into the habit of sending them to her father whenever he was away on business. Her handwriting had been horrible as a child according to her and her father had suggested she try to fit all of her thoughts onto a postcard. So, now she sent all of her letters neatly handwritten with the smallest of letters, so small you could almost barely read them, on the back of a postcard.

The postcard I had gotten late today, delivered by one of the last people on duty this late at night, was a picturesque view of the White House. The grass bright green and the outside covered in pure crisp white, a statuesque image of American democracy. Now, she didn’t send this to me because she wanted to express her political views and patriotism in a postcard, it just so happened to be where her father lived.

The fact that she was the President’s daughter used to intimidate me a lot when I first met her. I hadn’t immediately connected the dots in my head that she was the first daughter when we first met, though I could tell I had seen her somewhere before. Though, my first assumption was that maybe she had been a regular at my favorite coffee shop, not the daughter to the President of the United States. Literally my biggest boss.

First time I met him was also my first time in the east wing; she had some help from her secret service detail to sneak me in through the back. I only ever nervously stutter when I’m in intimidating or stressful situations and I’m pretty sure I barely got a sentence out the first ten minutes after I had met him. Luckily, he did seem to like me, though I’m not really sure why. Y/N told me once it was because he found my intelligence extraordinary and my constant willingness to share facts endearing. I always blush when I remember that, she was always so sweet to me and the fact that her family loved me as well caused my heart to swell exponentially. I stared at the captured view for a few seconds longer before the dots had fully connected in my head, I may have an eidetic memory, but sometimes it took me a minute to get her subtle hints. She didn’t actually live at the White House, she had her own house in D.C. But, this postcard meant one thing. She’s home.

Each postcard she sent me had a picture of wherever she was while she was traveling the world, it was a small gesture that made me feel closer to her, I always tried to imagine I was there with her at every location she sent. She had been out of the country for at least a month on business and even before that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, I had been stuck on a long case that kept me away from her for half a month.

A month and a half, that’s how long it's been since I’ve had her in my arms. I turned over the card expecting to see it filled with more words than most people would think could fit on the back of a postcard to let me know when I could see her, but this was not the case. Instead, the back of the card contained less words than normal. Only the words- meet me at 10pm at our usual spot.

My body moved faster than my brain, getting up to pack up all my things to rush to our usual spot. My watch sat over my cardigan sleeve on my wrist and it blinked up at me letting me know I only had 30 minutes till I had to get to the other side of town.I still had some paperwork left, but enough that I could push it off till the next day. Once I had gotten all my stuff together I scurried over to leave through the glass doors.

“Are you heading home, Spence?” A voice from inside the bullpen called out startling me out of my thoughts, I had thought everyone had left for the night. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice, JJ, who had come back from the break room to finish her large stack of paperwork that still remained.

“Actually no- I have a date.” A small shy smile made its way onto my face, I still felt very shy when I talked about my relationship with the team. When I had first told them after around 8 months into our relationship, they had thought I was pulling their legs. Once they did realize that I was in fact, not bullshitting them as Morgan had suspected, the questions had immediately come down on me. The ogling at my relationship never really ceased in the months after it had come out to the team, and the rest of the world. We mostly still tried to keep it under wraps, but the fact that the press now knew about me after some photos got leaked from a date only made the team ogle even more.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to who you go on dates with, it’s like something out of a movie.” JJ joked, then yawning again and leaning her face into her palms. “Well- I still have a lot of paperwork to do, you go enjoy your night, Spencer. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”

My mind had already begun to shift away from JJ as soon as she brought her up, I was practically vibrating in anticipation, I couldn’t wait to see her.

—-

The rare book store on the east side of Quantico had been my favorite for years, ever since I had moved out here from Vegas actually. So much so that the owners, an older couple named Margaret and Dan, both knew me by name and knew almost exactly what books I wanted every time. The both of them had immediately jumped at the chance when I had hesitantly asked them to let the both of us meet up here, I had been desperately trying to find a place outside of my apartment where we could meet up.

When I entered the shop through the back it was already deserted just for us, she must have contacted Maggie and Dan to ask them if we could have the store for the night. The store was packed full of the rare books the owners had both acquired over the years, ranging from old tales and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe, the dark brother’s Grimm tales, to almost any old book that you could think of. It was almost to the point where I thought maybe Maggie and Dan should upgrade to a bigger shop.

“Long time no see.” A voice piped up from the mostly dark corner where she sat in a dark green armchair only partially illuminated by a standing lamp. Broad grins broke out on both of our faces before we both ran to each other, engulfing ourselves into an overwhelming bear hug.

“I missed you so much you don't even know.” Tears prickled at the edge of my eyes, though I wasn’t afraid to admit that us being apart for so long made me tear up.

“I've got a pretty good idea, I missed you so much as well.” She sniffed and then sighed into the crook of my neck. I moved my hand up to cradle her head to try and bring her as close as possible to me, even though there was already not even an inch of space between the two of us.

A nagging thought was dancing around in my brain, the card was so short and abrupt. It wasn’t like her to not be long winded whenever she wrote to me, she even had a tendency to be worse than I was sometimes.

“Why was the card so short? You feeling ok?”

“I just couldn’t wait to see you… It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...” Her tone of voice made me sad, it had been so lonely for me as well when we were apart.  “I never want to be away from you for that long ever again.”

“Move in with me.” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could really think about my words. I didn’t care whether it would be feasible or not, I just knew I never wanted us to be apart for so long ever again.

“Well-“ I cringed a little at her words sensing a rejection, I worried that I had just screwed it all up by asking. However, again she surprised me, “We might need to get a new place to settle my father’s worries about security.”

I breathed out a breathy laugh of relief at her words, enveloping her into a bruising kiss, my worry and anxiety immediately melting away. I couldn’t wait for the next chapter of my life with the President’s daughter.

—-

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@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Spencer Reid & Letters Series:

@sierraraeck @90spumkin @whoreforthebau

[kaistarus]

Haikyuu Among Us

Pairs: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 2.8K

Summary: You're playing Among Us with the Karasuno gang. When you get selected to be the Imposter you're not above doing what it takes to win.

Notes: This is a completely self-indulgent fic for Nishinoya's b-day

Masterlist

"There are too many options. What do you think?”

Nishinoya’s yellow character stood motionless beside the lobby’s computer as he selected between several hats. Your animated crewmate ran circles around him while waiting for him to finish his customizations and for the rest of your friends to load into the game.

“I think the post-it is the most accurate, but the egg is the cutest.” You said mindlessly, smiling when Hinata’s bright orange character hopped off one of the benches at the top of the screen. You left Nishinoya so you could chase around Hinata instead, running circles around each other in excitement over your matching stemmed helmets.

Nishinoya grumbled as he selected the raw-egg to cover his helmet. “Should I buy a child?”

“Are you ready for that?” You asked as more people finally started loading onto the ship. “It’s a lot of responsibility and what if we both die?”

“Oh, you’re right. I’m not ready to be a single father.” Nishinoya left the computer and came to run in the circle with you and Hinata in the center of the lobby.

“You guys are disgusting,” Tsukishima’s condescending voice filtered into your headset. You rolled your eyes and glared at his black spacesuit with the devil horns. So rude.

“Let people be happy, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said while his dark green character joined your dance circle. You couldn’t explain it, but the wet floor sign felt extremely fitting for his character.

“I’ll help you raise your child if (Y/N) dies Noya!” Hinata said brightly into your headset.

“Thanks, Shoyo!”

“No, I want to help him raise the child!” Tanaka yelled into the mic causing you to jump in your chair. You quickly opened your audio settings to turn his volume down. “I deserve it. I’ve known them the longest.”

“No way, I already called dibs!”

“Guys, you can both help me! The more parents the better!”

“There is no child.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose,” and stop planning for me to die.”

“Sorry.” They all said in unison.

“But one day…” Hinata added ominously. You blinked at the screen confused and opened your mouth to respond before deciding it better to write that off entirely.

“All right, I’m starting the game,” Yachi said before the countdown appeared at the bottom of the screen.

“Wait, is Kageyama AFK? He hasn’t said anything.” Hinata asked, concerned.

“I just don’t want to talk to you, idiot.”

“Ouch.” Nishinoya snorted.

You muted your mic after a small giggle. The red crewmate appeared to shush everyone and you couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed your face when ‘Imposter’ appeared in red letters afterward. Beside your character stood your partner in crime, Hinata, his name also bled red for the violence to ensue. You nodded to yourself confidently. Hinata wasn’t the best imposter, but you two were pretty in sync so you weren’t too concerned.

The airship loaded and everyone appeared around the center lunch table in cafeteria. You debated what you should do… maybe hang out with Hinata and attempt a double kill? You two could pull that off. Maybe just try some fun vent kills like you’d seen streamers do recently. Too bad Nishinoya ran over to you and began dancing beside you, clearly trying to get you to follow him to the right side of the map. It would probably be cruel if you slowly garnered his trust to use him as an alibi…

You followed him out of cafeteria. He began a wire task so you pretended to watch the bar go up until he excitedly danced beside you when he was finished, happy he’d cleared himself as an innocent crewmate-not that you hadn’t known that already. You went to fake asteroids, standing beside the chair while hoping to all that was good the green bar would move on time, when it did you leaned your forehead on your desk with a heavy sigh. Nishinoya’s character ran circles around you, likely thrilled that you were both crewmates, before continuing down the gray halls to the oxygen room. You took a moment to feel guilty before shaking it off.

While Nishinoya went to do another task in O2 you noticed Tsukishima running down the hall, alone, so you briefly separated and went to follow him. Unfortunately, Tsukishima decided to go to navigation all alone which left you with absolutely no choice. You strolled up to him and pressed the lit up ‘KILL’ button in the bottom corner of your screen. The animation had you snapping his character in half which you were a little too satisfied with-you could practically hear him raging from across town.

Once complete, his little half body flopped over and you snickered to yourself in your room. Then you remembered Nishinoya probably heading this way and you quickly self-reported the body.

“Naviga--.”

“Somebody killed Tsukki!?” Yamaguchi yelled so loud you had to lift your headphones up.

“Oh no,” Kageyama said, sarcastically. “What a loss.”

“You don’t sound upset…” Yachi pointed out.

“Should I?”

“Yes! He’s our friend and he’s dead!” Yamaguchi yelled.

“He’s not actually dead Yams.” You smirked, propping your elbow onto your desk and leaning into the palm of your hand.

“Sometimes I still hear his voice…” Nishinoya sniffled into his mic and you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Where was it?” Hinata asked.

“Navigation.” You said calmly. “Me and Nishinoya were doing tasks. I saw him go down to nav and I wanted to see if he died in the murder zone and he did.”

“Makes sense,” Nishinoya said casually. “So, who else is there that killed him?”

“Makes sense? She literally said she followed him to the murder zone.” Tanaka pointed out. You purse your lips because you did kind of say that, yeah. You should probably phrase things better.

“I saw her do asteroids though and she saw me do other tasks so we’re good.” Nishinoya scoffed at Tanaka’s accusation. “She couldn’t possibly have murdered Tsukishima if she did asteroids.”

“Okay… but what if she faked it?” Tanaka suggested.

“Are you suggesting my girlfriend would lie to me?” Noya said, gasping dramatically. “How could you dude?”

“The absolute disrespect.” You said, narrowing your eyes at Tanaka’s brown character. He knew too much.

“What if they’re both the imposter?” Yachi suggested.

“No way. If Noya was imposter half of us would be dead already.” Hinata said, with a chorus of agreeance following him.

“Well, who else is around here?” You asked.

“I’m almost there,” Kageyama said.

“Almost there or running from the crime?” You asked, excited to bring someone new into suspicion.

“Dun dun dun,” Hinata shouted.

“I don’t know if this means anything, but Hinata was at card swipe for a really long time…” Yachi added quietly.

“I just failed it like ten times, okay?” Hinata said sadly.

“Yeah, that checks out.” Kageyama snorted. “This idiot would fail a card swipe.”

“Let’s just skip, but Kageyama and (Y/N) I’m watching you,” Tanaka said.

“Good,” Kageyama responded.

The round ended with no one being ejected, thankfully, but you were a little concerned about the amount of suspicion being thrown at you. Hopefully, Hinata would keep Kageyama alive, and if the opportunity presents itself Tanaka would be your next target. Until then, you ran around the table to Nishinoya and danced beside him until he was ready to move. It was most important that Nishinoya believed you were innocent. You needed a strong ally, especially now.

As you waited patiently for him to complete another download task you kept the sabotage map open contemplatively before Hinata decided to shut off the lights for you. You tried to stay close enough to Nishinoya that he would see you in his limited visual area while you run to electrical, that is, until you saw Yamaguchi trailing behind you. Once you all entered cafeteria you pulled a quick u-turn under the cover of darkness and stabbed Yamaguchi’s poor unsuspecting crewmate body several times in the back before returning to Nishinoya and helping fix the lights. As if nothing had ever happened.

After fixing lights like the innocent, fake crewmate you were an air horn went off in your ear to signal Yamaguchi’s body being reported. You fell back in your chair with a whine before unmuting your mic.

“All right, this is good,” Tanaka said, a few muffled smacks heard as he excitedly smacked his desk.

“Disrespectful, dude. What did Yams or Yachi ever do to you?” Nishinoya asked. You raised an eyebrow because you hadn’t even noticed Yachi’s crossed off character. “They’re the two nicest people on earth.”

“Yeah, that’s sus.” You said with a smirk.

“Super sus.” Nishinoya agreed.

“What? No. I mean, I was on my way to the button because I literally watched Hinata jump into a vent when I found Yam’s body. Which means we have two pieces of evidence now.”

You cursed internally and glared at Hinata’s bright orange character. He would get caught venting.

“Dude, seriously?” Nishinoya laughed.

“What? I didn’t vent.”

“I watched you.”

“Oh yeah? How can I vent when I’m not even the imposter?” Hinata said confidently. You rolled your eyes.

“Damn, he’s got you there dude.” Nishinoya snorted. “Solid defense Shoyo.”

“Thanks, man!”

“Don’t defend him!” Tanaka yelled. “Unless you really are the second imposter!”

“What? No! Where’s your evidence? Give me proof!”

“Yeah, give him the proof!” Hinata added.

“Where were you when Yamaguchi was killed?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Nishinoya asked, astonished. “We were only in cafeteria when the lights were off and I didn’t see a body.”

“We?” Tanaka sounded deep in thought. “When the lights were off…”

“Are we just forgetting about mister thank god Tsukishima is dead?” You said, pulling attention toward Kageyama. “And last I checked only Noya and I fixed the lights.”

“Oh yeah, where were you, Kageyama?” Nishinoya asked.

“I’m where the boxes are.”

“You gotta learn the room names, man.” Hinata sighed.

“Maybe this is a tactic!” Tanaka shouted.

“Oh, and self-reporting isn’t Tanaka?” You asked.

“I don’t know. Tell me about the last round?” He responded confidently. Oh shit.

“Hang on, we gotta vote. We have like 15 seconds.” Nishinoya pointed out.

“Vote Hinata. He vented.” Tanaka said, repeatedly.

Everyone voted quickly and Nishinoya even apologized to Hinata, so you sighed before going with the majority. You had officially lost your partner. On the bright side, if you could take out Tanaka you could probably convince Nishinoya that Kageyama was the last imposter. You just had to play this last bit safe.

You waited a bit before going in the direction Tanaka had run after, but your last few rounds backfired when Nishinoya trailed after you. You needed to get away from him long enough so you could kill Tanaka without him seeing. You broke away from him for a moment and hopped into the nearest vent, jumping around until you found an area close to where you thought Tanaka had last been running around. When you popped out fear immediately shot into your heart when Kageyama’s dark blue character peaked into the top of the screen.

You weren't sure if he saw you or not, but you couldn’t risk it. He had to die.

You chased after him toward cafeteria and just barely got close enough to hit the kill button when he entered the room. You let out a breath of relief when the kill animation popped onto your screen and you watched your character repeatedly stab Kageyama in the back. You thought you were safe, so when the air horn for a meeting played you shot up in your chair. Apparently, in your tunnel vision, you hadn’t noticed Tanaka lurking nearby.

“It was Tanaka. I watched him kill Kageyama!” You shouted the moment your mic unmuted.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Nishinoya’s voice was filled with genuine confusion and you almost felt guilty. Almost. Maybe after you won.

“No. She chased him down, sawed him in half, then tossed him away like it was nothing. I saw it all.” Tanaka shouted.

“You can’t even saw people.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m so confused,” Nishinoya whined. “It’s not Kageyama? But (Y/N) was with me like the entire game.”

“Exactly, so how could I have killed anyone?” You said excitedly. Nishinoya had no suspicion of you which was perfect. You could definitely win this.

“You were at every place where the bodies were found.” Tanaka pointed out. “She couldn’t have been with you the entire time. Like when she self-reported the first body?”

“I didn’t self-report.”

“Or when the lights went out?”

“I guess not.” Nishinoya said. You hit your desk lightly in stress. “She also wasn’t with me this whole last round...”

“Exactly!” Tanaka shouted. “And she was really adamant about putting suspicion on Kageyama.”

“Cause he was suspicious!” You threw your hands up. Since when was Tanaka so good at this game?

The line was quiet for a moment. “(Y/N) he’s making a lot of sense.”

“Okay, but he also reported Yams' body,” you countered. “Easily could’ve been a self-report there too.”

“That’s true…”

“Dude, why would I have tried so hard to get Hinata out if I was an imposter?” Tanaka asked, exasperated. “It makes no sense. It has to be her.”

“He could’ve lied about seeing Hinata vent!” You shouted, deciding to throw hail mary’s in your moment of demise.

“Why would I do that?”

“My head hurts,” Nishinoya whined. “(Y/N) I don’t know...”

“Okay. You should vote for Tanaka because...” You said while racking your brain for a solid defense. “I… love you.”

Nishinoya blew air into the mic. “Fuck dude, that’s a good defense.”

“No it’s not you--” Tanaka groaned. “Dude, for like five seconds I need you to stop being a simp and just big brain with me here.”

“But she’s saying nice things to me,” Nishinoya whined.

“Dude, c’mon you know who it is.”

Nishinoya groaned into the mic. “Okay, (Y/N) you’d never lie to me, right?”

“Never.”

“Are you imposter?”

“...I love you so much and I’m so happy you’re in my life and--”

“She just fucking admitted to it!” Tanaka screamed in the mic. “Don’t let her get into your brain. You’re better than this.”

After a brief silence, Nishinoya finally voted and you stood out of your chair when it revealed Nishinoya and you beneath Tanaka’s brown character. The mixed shouting in your headset went completely ignored by your own excitement while you celebrated, thanking Nishinoya with loving words.

“You fucking simp!” Tanaka yelled. “I can’t believe you. I trusted you!”

“I’m sorry,” Nishinoya’s groan came muffled in your ears. “I just couldn’t do it.”

“Good job (Y/N)!” Hinata cheered. “I never win as an imposter.”

“Cause you vent in front of people,” Tsukishima said.

“It was an accident! I meant to sabotage doors and I misclicked.”

“Oh well, we still got a victory.” You said proudly while spinning in your chair.

“You used me,” Nishinoya said, disappointed. “For personal gain.”

“I’m sorry, Noya,” you smirked as your characters all slowly hopped off the chairs in the main lobby. You danced around his yellow character as everyone loaded in. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the second game began, you let out a sigh of relief when the light blue confirmed you as merely a crewmate. This time you could legitimately just goof off with Nishinoya and complete tasks together while hopefully avoiding death.

After the map loaded you once again made your way to navigation together, keeping guard while the other was busy, and dancing circles every time you completed a task. When you eventually had entered the murder zone you trusted him to watch your back while you did your last task on the right side of the ship. Your first mistake apparently. You audibly gasped when the kill animation appeared on the screen. Nishinoya’s yellow character snapping your poor little crewmate’s neck in plain sight, leaving its little half body lying there for all to see. It’s poor singular bone popped out and bare.

You stared blankly at the screen while Nishinoya danced around your body for a moment, knowing that your ghost was hovering over it before he went down and hopped into the vent. You flopped back into your chair watching as Tanaka’s character ran into the room, stared at your body, and ran out. You could picture him cackling at the situation from here.

When a meeting was finally called, not even for you but Kageyama, Nishinoya pretended to be upset that “someone dares to kill you” and other bull shit. You crossed your arms and glared at his stupid yellow imposter self.

You supposed you deserved being used as a cover-up from the grave.

He better at least win.

[inarizakibabe]

Changes

As the first prince of his country Suna had just about everything his heart could want. Riches, fine silks and linens, and more food than he could eat. One would expect with a life as luxurious as his he would be happy. Unfortunately his father could see the sadness deep in his son's eyes. Maybe he needed  new hobby or more servants to boss around? Then again looking at things carefully the king noticed his son avoided the servants as much as he could. Just what could cheer up his son and bring back the joy in his eyes? Oh! Maybe that could work.

"You called for me father?"

"Yes Rintaro. I've noticed your sour mood these past few months and I think I know what could make it better." the king smiled down at his son. "I remember entering a funk as you young kids say and your grandfather threw a ball in my honor and I ended up meeting your mother."

Suna fought hard to hide the disgust creeping onto his face. Surely his father didn't really think he wanted to meet someone.

"So that's why three days from now we will have a ball and invite all eligible maidens to attend. Maybe I'll be able to see you smile again,"

"Um father with all due respect I don't really see how a ball will improve my funk as you called it. Maybe if I took a ride around the forest I'll feel better?" Suna hoped his father would get the message but knowing how stubborn he was he'll most likely be engaged three days from now. "I'll even bring my attendants to make sure I'm alright."

"Nonsense going for a ride isn't what you need. Trust me on this Rintaro. A ball is exactly what you need. You're dismissed. You have a ball to prepare for." The king said before turning back to the papers on his desk.

Suna sighed and left his father's office. Maybe if he ran away nobody would miss him. Or the entire kingdom would be put on lock down until he was found. He couldn't put his people through that so there was only one thing to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day Suna found himself taking a walk in the garden. If all goes to plan he wouldn't have to propose and maybe he could get the freedom he was craving. Sure castle life was fun but when you have people constantly telling you how to live and doing every thing fro you it can get tiring. Before he turned eighteen he didn't have as many responsibilities as he does now. Life was simple he would take lessons during the day and after a certain time he was free to do what he wanted until dinner time.

Now he's stuck behind a desk everyday taking on the tasks of the kingdom he father didn't want to do. If he got to leave the castle anymore it was for business and once all was settled he'd come right back home and behind the four walls of his personal office again. His home had become a prison and his office his cell.

"You know if you continue to frown at the ground it's less likely to open up and take you away from here."

Suna looked up and found one of his attendants speaking with him. He had two personal attendants who miraculously happened to be twins. They met each other at the age of six and have been together ever since. The one speaking to him now was the blonde one Atsumu which meant his brother Osamu, with gray hair, was most likely harrassing the kitchen staff.

"That sounds like a dream come true right now. Don't you feel suffocated here? You've lived here your whole and trained to work for me. Was it something you always wanted or was this chosen for you?" Suna asked.

"Sounds like someone is scared of their responsibilities. Alright Rintaro tell me what's wrong." Atsumu offered Suna an encouraging smile until he noticed the deadpan look on Suna's face. "You don't have to look at me like that you know."

"No offense but, actually take as much offense as you can from this but last I checked advice giving wasn't something you were capable of. Where's Osamu?"

"Looking up one of the maid's skirts. Now what do you mean I'm not a good advice giver? I happen to give great advice to people in need." Atsumu huffed.

"Right right remind me again why ten percent of the palace guards quit after you left 'inspiring' words with them." Suna mused.

"Be glad you're a prince." Atsumu muttered dejectedly.

"Threatening the crowned prince? That's grounds for dungeon time. Let me know if you want gray or white sheets." Suna laughed as he continued in the direction he was headed before.

"I'll take green. Look the fact of the matter is you're clearly not happy about something and as one of your attendants it's my job to fix that. I can get your horse saddled if you want and tell your father you had an entire platter filled with cheese." Usually Suna would grimace at the mention of cheese but a ride through the kingdom sounded more like what he needed.

"Thanks but no thanks, after the last time my father would kill me if he found out I ran off again. If you did want to cheer me up you could figure out a way to get him to cancel this ball he's throwing in my honor."

"You know as well as I do just how stubborn your old man is. You'd have better luck raising the dead than changing his mind. Look on the bright side. There'll be cake." Atsumu smiled at Suna who in turn frowned at him.

"For saying that you get purple sheets."

"Wait! Let's talk this out!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day Suna found himself in his room being fitted for a new suit. In the twenty minutes he's been standing there he's been pricked by pins three times.

"Last warning tailor. The next time you hurt the prince you'll be charged for treason." Today Osamu was keeping Suna company

''Forgive me your highness. You're more built than I'm use to dealing with. Rest assured this suit will be the most beautiful suit you'll ever wear." the tailor put another pin in the fabric he was working with and prayed he hadn't pricked Suna again. "If I may ask, what occasion is this ball in honor of? The last celebration we had was your eighteenth birthday and I believe your birthday isn't until next year so what's the joyous occasion?"

"You'll find out the day after the ball until then please focus on leaving skin on my body." Suna sighed.

"Of course your highness my apologies again."

"Tsumu talked to me yesterday. What's going on with you?"

"He talks too much. He simply saw me walking in the garden nothing else."

"Oh yeah? I heard that princess you met in Shektor is coming tomorrow. Should I make arrangements that she's your first dance of the evening?" Osamu smirked at Suna who scowled at him. "Oh dear your highness what an expression. Be careful Princess Tsumaki doesn't see it she might think one of the wind goblins is tickling your nose again. In fact I'll write a letter to her right now to bring her special medicine to cure you!"

"Osamu you bastard! Ow! Alright fine enough I'll answer both your questions just stop tormenting me! I should have both of you locked up for treason." Suna growled trying to keep the parts if his sanity he still had.

The tailor and Osamu smirked at each other as Suna began to speak again. "I just felt trapped behind these walls recently. Is everything I'm doing really important? I sit down and sigh papers all day either about farm rations or mining and I just don't see the need to do any of that. The people know what they need to survive and they know how to do what they need to survive so why should I waste time looking over it for them? They're not children who need to be supervised they'd be well off without me. The again if I don't do that then what is my purpose here? What am I suppose to do with my life? Am I just the face the people use when they need something? No wait that's my father's job so I'm just here. I make agreements and trade deals with other countries and attend diplomat meetings my father can't make it to. If I didn't do any of that then I'd be a regular boy in the kingdom maybe doing stable work. Sounds better than being the one everyone blames for everything if things go wrong. My father apparently doesn;t know me very well and thought I was lonely so he's throwing a ball for me to find a wife. What's not to love about that?"

Osamu sighed and pulled one of Suna's cheeks. "First don't talk about yourself like that. Like it or not this is how you were born and there's literally nothing you can do about that. It doesn't matter what kind of job you do even if all you did was tell someone to move a chair you still did something and it benefited somebody in the long run. You can't see yourself for the things you do but me and everyone else around you can. You just need to look at things from a different point of view."

Suna looked away from both of them and sighed while taking in Osamu's words. Maybe all he did need was to view things from a different perspective. Yeah maybe that could work. "Ow!"

"You didn't have to stick him again Mori." Osamu sweatdropped.

"Nope that time definitely was an accident. Please try not to move your highness." Mori smiled innocently.

Or maybe his tailor would take him out first. Whichever came first he guessed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day of the ball finally arrived and carriage after carriage arrived at the castle holding nobles and royals from near and far. Suna was in his room again watching from the window as carriages entered the palace grounds. Maybe if he's lucky he could make a run for it during the party and jump the fence to get away from everybody to maybe save himself for a little while. Or maybe one of guards sees him and tries to follow him and ruins his plans.

"Just sit through the ball and I'm sure your father will let you leave for an hour tomorrow."

"Yeah right after his engagement announcement. Listen Rin if you don't want to do it then I don't see why you should."

"Don't listen to Tsumu. We'll help you if you need a breather every now and again but we can't cover fro you the entire night."

"Or eat these two slices of cheesecake right now and be excused for the rest of the night." Atsumu suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

It was a pretty solid plan but a night of pain wasn't worth missing the ball. His father might only postpone it and he'd be confined to his room until everything passes.

"Well gentlemen it's my last night a single man. If I'm lucky Tsumaki won't be my future bride. The small bout of freedom I had was nice but it's time for me to be a big boy and do what I have to. Once I'm king the first thing I'm doing is making sure Asami doesn't go through this." Suna sighed.

"I doubt she'd have a problem with it. Which girl doesn't want to be entertained by a handsome man? Bonus points cause he's rich." Atsumu shrugged.

Suna's eyebrow raised in confusion, "Are you calling the princess a money whore?"

Atsumu chuckled softly and smiled at Suna. "You and I both know that's not what I meant. You're really the only person who has a problem with palace life. Asami is actually looking forward to her happily ever after which is something you need to start doing. You can hate it but if it's something that has to be done then you have to suck it up and get it over with."

"You can say that because it's not your life. I need to teach Asami about how dirty boys are. Osamu you'll be the example for what you and Mori did yesterday. Who could've imagined my attendant and the tailor conspiring against me. The mutiny." Suna shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Be disappointed all you want. I did what I had to do. Now you have to get ready for tonight. If you need us you know where we'll be." Osamu left with Atsumu right behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*

Night fell quickly and two hours into the party Suna finally met all the young women his father had invited. Many were kind and some more beautiful than necessary but all quickly looked away when Princess Tsumaki approached him. The night continued on as his father hoped with Suna being forced to mingle with everyone present. Eventually his social meter began to run out and he retreated to a hidden balcony for air.

A sound close by caught his attention and Suna found a young woman who seemed to be in the same situation as him. If he remembered he remembered her name was (y/n) third princess of a neighboring country. Suna tried to sneak away before you could see him but alas luck wasn't on his side.

"Your highness good night."

Suna counted to three then slowly faced you with a friendly smile, "Good night my lady. I hope you're enjoying the party."

"It's lovely and so is your country. Please give your father my thanks for inviting my family."

"I can assure you he'll give his thanks for attending. If I'm not being too forward may I ask why you're out here instead of enjoying the food?" Hopefully pressuring you like this will give Suna the quiet time he was hoping for.

"Forgive my rudeness but the amount of people inside made the room a little stuffy. I came out here for a little air." you smiled at him.

"Fair enough. I hope the air is to your liking."

"With all due respect your highness it's been a long night and it's exhausting speaking like this so if you don't mind we can call each other old acquaintances and speak like old friends would. It would be an honor if you would call me (y/n)."

Suna blinked at your request and fought the grin trying to rise on his face. "If that's so then feel free to call me Rintaro. Blame my father for taking things the wrong way and forcing us all to go through this."

"We can't really fight what our parents want us to do. Comes with the title really. You seemed upset earlier should I assume that you don't really want to get married?"

Suna sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't mind getting married I just don't think I should get married because my father thought I was in a funk as he called it. Sounds cliche but I actually believe in meeting someone and falling in love."

You blinked at the prince and giggled. "You're very cute Rintaro. I like to believe everyone wants to fall in love that way. Nobody wants to have their partner chosen for them. What good is being married if you're gonna be miserable everyday."

"If it means I don't have to sit through marriage consultations and weird balls like this one then I may just prefer the other way."

"Careful what you say. I think we both know your father is capable of that. I saw princess Tsumaki looking for her Rinnepoo earlier. Maybe I should let his majesty know you've chosen someone." You looked up to find Suna pouting at you. "Careful your highness they may send you back to etiquette classes for making such a face."

"Good evening Prince Rintaro. It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance tonight. I do hope that-"

"Ok! That's enough! Don't you dare repeat that."

Suna smirked and hid his mouth behind his hand. "Pardon me princess. I just found your greeting to me this evening amusing. I mean no harm it's just you were so cute. How many times did you practiced that?"

"Whatever. Let's see what you would do if the roles were reversed."

"Sorry princess but this isn't about me." Suna giggled.

"So you can smile and laugh. I almost thought you were emotionally constipated. Is that the funk your father thought you were in?"

Suna sighed being reminded of the situation he was in. "It's more than that but nobody would understand."

You smiled at him encouragingly. "The whole you're royalty so you have absolutely no reason to not be happy thing?"

"Exactly that. It's gonna sound stupid but I guess I miss the freedom I had before I turned eighteen. Well more I don't see the need for me to do the things I'm doing."

"Ah you feel monarchy should be abolished. Look at it this way crackers taste good on their own but with cheese the taste is elevated. Cheese and crackers is superior to just plain old crackers by themselves or just cheese by itself. Yes your kingdom could probably prosper on it's own but there are situations the people shouldn't handle on their own. Budget distribution, land distribution, diplomatic matters and many other things. We exist to keep harmony in the kingdom. Imagine leaving children to raise themselves. Many would unfortunately die before reaching a certain age. Think of your kingdom as your very own children. They're self sufficient yes but without you to guide them in the things they don't understand they'll be hurt. You can still do the things you love but your children come first. If you don't take care of them then someone may just take them away. "

Suna sighed. "I can understand that but I just don't understand why it has to be me."

"I don't understand why it can't be you. Anyone could've been chosen for the job but you were chosen. I don't know you well enough to speak on certain things but I have heard rumors that you basically run half of your kingdom on your own. The fact that nothing has fallen apart shows that you're more than competent to do your job. You need to have more confidence in yourself. I've only known you for a short time but I can already tell you're a wonderful person. Don't sell yourself short." You smiled at Suna who looked at you unsure.

Suna shrugged, "If you say so (y/n). Are you hungry?"

"I'm alright for now. But I do think we need to get back before someone misses us."

"What's the rush? You know the reason for this party."

"Is that you asking for my company your highness?"

"I didn't hear a no princess." Suna smirked when you giggled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few months later Suna found himself sitting in his office again. He was hard at work but this time with a slight smile on his face. A knock on the door took him away from the work he was doing and Atsumu stepped into his office.

Atsumu placed a sandwich and a cup of tea on the table in front of Suna "You seem to be in a better mood these days. What's your secret?"

"Sorry but secrets are secret for a reason."

"Keep your secrets then. Simply means I can't tell you the one I just heard." Atsumu smirked.

"I heard the dungeons don't have heat." Suna shrugged.

"Really? Just make sure my sheets are red."

Suna laughed and shook his head, "You little turd nugget. What's going on?"

"Alright fine but only because you asked so rudely. I heard your favorite princess is coming by later today. Maybe if you finish all your work you can be at the doors to greet her."

"Lucky for me this was the last page I had to look over. Prepare two horses and I'll make sure your sheets are maroon."

"And you call me the turd nugget." Atsumu rolled his eyes. "His majesty said you can do whatever you want for the rest of the day once you stop keeping him in suspense."

"Sounds good. Thanks for lunch."

Things were definitely starting to look up and with one simple question later tonight Suna's life was about to change again. This time for the better.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

All Over Again - Chapter 13

Summary: What was lost can be found. 

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence. 

Final Chapter!!

Ch. 12

* * * * * * 

There’s a brilliant smile on your face as the aerial view of New York breaks through the clouds. The multitude of skyscrapers in the city with lights on casts a glow on your face that takes Lena’s breath away. 

She’s so utterly in love with you and while she’s seen you happy, this light in your eyes at being back in New York is brighter than ever. 

-Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the JFK airport. Please make sure one last time that your seatbelt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.-

After having grabbed yours and Lena’s carry ons, you walk off the airplane with her. Going through the airport to baggage claim and then leaving out to the awaiting car. 

Over the past couple months, with how busy you’ve been with prep meetings for the meeting with the UN, the actual UN meeting, the DEO, and spending time with Lena, you’d only been able to come back to New York three times.

The first time was for a mission with only a few members of the team. The second time was for the UN meeting so you hadn’t been able to see your friends and family. And now your third time. For Bruce’s and Natasha’s wedding.

Your limited visits is why, the second you RSVP’d, Natasha asked that you and Lena stay at the compound for your visit as opposed to a hotel.

You weren’t sure about asking Lena to but you missed your family so you asked. And lucky you, she said yes.

With a bright smile on your face, you lean forward to the driver and tell him the address.

You scoot closer to Lena, adjusting so that your arm is around her shoulders,“ is it weird that I’m a little nervous?” 

It’s a bit of a rhetorical question but Lena answers it anyway.

“Not really. You’ve been gone a while, it makes sense to worry if things have changed or how they’ll react to seeing you again.” Her thumb runs over the back of your hand in a comforting way,“ especially with our reason for being back.” 

Admittedly, you weren’t expecting Bruce and Natasha to get married so soon. Well it’s been months but with them having dated for all those years, part of you thought they’d stay engaged for a while.

Either way, you’re incredibly happy for both of them. Especially Natasha.

You and the redhead had spoken occasionally over your time in NC and while she mentioned Bruce, almost as much as you mentioned Lena, most of your conversations were just about each other: your mental well beings, random thoughts, and at times the memories you share. 

Even though it’d mainly been phone calls, you could tell how happy she is. That alone made you smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve just missed them you know, it almost feels like it’s been forever.” You sigh, looking out at the wide expanse of greenery, which is how you know you’re close to your destination. 

Lena smiles softly at you, then leans over to kiss your cheek,“ I’m sure they’ve missed you just as much.” 

Shortly after that, the driver pulls to a stop at the gate and you already know you have to unlock it. 

“Hope this still works,” you mumble to yourself as you approach the lock pad. Placing your hand on the print scanner you say,“ Artemis.” When it doesn’t move forward to the retinal scan you get worried, then you nearly panic when it rejects the authorization. 

With a frown you stand up straight, thinking of what to do next. Just before the thought to call someone hits you, you remember who’s in control of the compounds security system. 

Rolling your eyes, you place your palm on the scanner and say,“ traitor,” which prompts the retinal scan. 

You shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Alright, let’s go.” You say, leaning into the car and grabbing your bag. 

Lena’s eyebrows raise at your words in confusion.

Noting that, you tell her,“ this place doesn't have top of the line security cause we let just anyone in you know.” Your eyes flicker to the back of the driver's seat.“ It’s like ten steps to the door, come on.” 

With slight reluctance, Lena follows suit. Before she can even reach for her bag, you grab it. You wait for the gate to close then turn. Lena’s eyes follow you while you carry the bags up the pavement, fingers gripping the handles of the bags as you bite your lip. 

“Y/n,” she places her hand on your arm, both of you stopping a couple feet before the entrance,“ relax. Everything’s going to be fine.”

You take a deep breath and nod,“ you’re right. I have noth-”

“Y/n!”

At the sound of her voice, you turn to the building. 

She runs out, a huge grin on her face, auburn tresses flying behind her as she nears you. Dropping the bags you catch her just as her body collides with yours. Her natural scent of rose and vanilla surrounds you as you bury your face in her neck. 

“God I’ve missed you,” you sigh.

When you pull away, Wanda cups your face in her hands, teary green eyes taking you in with a smile on her face,“ I missed you too.” 

Your best friend hugs you one more time, a little shorter than the last one, before pulling away and moving to Lena. 

“Hi.” They both say through short laughs as they hug. 

Picking the bags back up, Wanda excitedly drags you and Lena into the compound. The second you’re inside, you set the bags down in the hallway, and head into the common room.

As expected everyone is in there. What is unexpected, is seeing all of them setting up decorations: golden letters spelling out ‘Congratulations’, gold and silver ceiling swirls, gold and silver balloons, etc. 

“Well I certainly wasn’t expecting a welcome back party.” 

Everyone freezes at the sound of your voice, almost everyone. Just like Wanda had, Natasha speeds over to wrap you in a hug.

You chuckle and hug her back with a brief squeeze that she returns. And when you pull away you smile at her,“ missed me huh?” You ask teasingly. 

“Maybe a little.” She shrugs, with a smile as sweet as yours.

“What’s all this?” A nod of your head towards everyone and everything.

Natasha, after a brief but polite greeting to Lena, answers you.“ Bruce and I decided, instead of bachelor and bachelorette parties, we’d just do a big movie night. Tony wouldn’t let us get away without a party.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t.” Said billionaire’s voice joins the conversation and you turn around to see him, as well as Pepper and Morgan. 

“Morgan!” You exclaim, a little more excitement in your voice than had been with anyone else. You rarely saw the girl when you lived in New York, moving meant not seeing her at all. The smaller girl’s face lights up at the sight of you and she runs over, throwing herself into your arms. 

“Y/n! Where’ve you been? Mommy said you moved away.” 

Nodding, you smile apologetically at her,“ yeah I did. But I’m back for a few days and I promise I’m gonna visit more.”

“You better.” Both Natasha and Wanda say at the same time. 

You chuckle softly, eyebrows raised at them in a playful challenge, before you stand up and turn to Tony and Pepper. The woman smiles warmly and opens her arms for a hug that you instantly accept.

“It’s so good to see you.” She says once having pulled away and you return the words.

Leaning over a little, you catch Tony’s gaze over Pepper’s shoulder. 

“Sup T.” You head nod, feigning scared. 

A brow is raised at you and you step around Pepper. Your hands slap and he pulls you into a one armed hug, telling you that if you don’t start visiting more he’s going to bring you back for good. 

With a laugh and a promise to come back more often, you all head over to the couches. 

E/c eyes scan the appearance of everyone,“ oh this is a pajama movie night?” Your eyebrows raise,“ cause if so I got the couch.” 

“How do you know the bride-to-be doesn’t want the couch?” Natasha challenges, with a quirked brow. 

You frown,“ you don’t need a couch, you’ve got Jolly Green.” A finger is pointed to her fiance.

Said man nods, digging his spoon into a tub of ice cream,“ she’s got a point. And I’m very comfy.” 

His words pull a laugh from everyone. Your best friend being the first to speak.

“If Y/n’s got the couch I got Y/n.” Her smile slipping after a moment as she looks at the brunette by your side,“ oh wait, nevermind.” 

A little sigh falls from your lips that Lena catches. You excuse yourself and Lena, once again grabbing your bags and then directing her through the compound to the room that was and seems to still be yours. 

Laying the bags on the bed, you unzip yours in search of your pajamas. You grab them and turn to Lena as you start to change. 

“Hey, would you mind if me and Wan shared the couch?” You ask, adding,“ it’s cool if you do, you know I love sleeping with you.” A teasing tone is laced through your honest words.

Your girlfriend shakes her head with a soft laugh,“ I don’t mind. Really you haven’t seen each other in weeks. Besides I’ll probably sneak back here anyway, you know I’m not one for sleeping on the floor.” 

“Yes I’m well aware.” Then stepping closer to her, your hands find her hips,“ you’re the best by the way. I love you.” 

“I try,” she mumbles right before your lips meet in a short sweet kiss. Pulling away she says,“ I love you too.”

From there the two of you leave out your room and head back to the common room. Everyone seems to be waiting on you, snacks and drinks spread on the table, blankets and pillows spread and piled across the floor.

Squeezing Lena’s hand, you kiss her cheek, not noticing that mostly everyone had looked at you upon entry, until they all started making kissy noises to tease you. 

You roll your eyes, flipping them off, and kissing Lena once again just cause. With a blush on her cheeks, she walks ahead of you and gets situated on the floor in front of the couch beside Sam who smirked and gave her a head nod. 

Knowing that smirk all too well, you smack the side of his head while stepping over him and he returns the good natured action with a light punch to your thigh. 

With a chuckle, you plop down on the couch, kicking your feet up and then looking to Wanda. Opening your arms, you smile and ask,“ cuddle?” 

An excited little sound leaves her lips as she hops up and hastens over to you. Falling into your open arms, she cuddles closer to you on your lap, pulling her incredibly soft red blanket over both of you. 

Admittedly, even though she had been calming your nerves, Lena is also nervous about spending time with the people. This isn’t some stranger filled investment dinner or a Christmas party. This is their comfort zone, no one around for them to put their walls up with. 

She finds, as the night progresses, that her worry was unnecessary. As the team let’s their guard down she finds that they’re just as awkward, goofy, and well, normal as any other human. 

You all tease each other, childishly throwing popcorn and making food combinations that no one would think of, and just showing love to each other in your own way. 

By the time everyone starts to wind down, Lena is convinced that this is indeed a family. 

Lena had indeed snuck away in the middle of the night, but not without leaving a little kiss on your forehead. 

While you all are still asleep, the guys sneak away. Natasha and Bruce may not be doing things completely traditionally but they decided to stick to not seeing each other the day of until the ceremony. 

In the morning, everyone’s focused on getting ready and assisting Natasha in whatever way possible. Tony has breakfast brought to the compound, a large spread set up in the kitchen that you all dig into, filling glasses with champagne and orange juice.

A pleasant surprise comes to everyone when Pepper declines the alcohol with an avoiding gaze. It didn’t take much to get the woman to admit to being pregnant again and when she does, it brings even brighter smiles to your faces and congratulations sound from all of you. She apologized to Natasha about partly stealing her day but the redhead was far too happy for her friend and herself. 

Things seem to move pretty quickly from there, you all break off to get ready, Wanda and Pepper finishing first so they can help Natasha. 

It’s as you’re hanging in the kitchen, sipping more champagne with Lena, complimenting her and Morgan who both look beautiful, that Wanda rushes in. 

Her cheeks are slightly flushed and she makes eye contact with you and sighs,“ could you um-” she points behind her and you nod. 

Setting the glass down, you follow after her,“ what’s wrong?”

“Natasha’s getting a little-” she can’t find the word,“ we’re trying to calm her down but she isn't exactly listening.”

You simply nod, rounding the corner to see Pepper speaking to Natasha from outside the door. She looks up as she hears you approaching and her shoulders drop. 

Giving her a small smile, you step to the door and rap your knuckles against the door.

“Pepper I already said I don’t want to talk.” Natasha’s muffled voice says. 

“What if Pepper isn’t the one that wants to talk.” You reply. 

It’s quiet, then the knob twists, and the door opens a smidge. Green eyes peek through the crack, trailing over your form, before she disappears. A hesitant look is shared between the three of you before you slip inside. 

Looking around the room, your eyes land on the ex-assassin who stands beside a window, looking out silently. You can’t control the hitch of your breath as you take her in. She looks incredible in her wedding dress, an opinion you decide to share.

“You look amazing Tash.” You say, taking small steps towards her. 

Her fingers wring as she looks up at you,“ you look great too Y/n.”

With a sigh, you pull a chair over and sit down, pulling your leg up to rest your ankle over your knee,“ talk to me Tash, what’s wrong?”

She swallows thickly,“ I am terrified.” She admits after looking into your sincerely worried eyes.“ I never, ever, thought I would be doing this. And then there was you and I thought that would be it and now with Bruce and it’s all so new and I wasn’t made for this.” 

The meaning behind her words hits you hard,“ hey, no, don’t go down that path.” Now standing, you take her hands in yours,“ you are human Natasha. You were made to love and be loved, to have happiness just like everyone else. What they forced you to believe you are is so far from who you truly are. I saw it when we were together and I see it with you and Bruce. You have a big beautiful heart Tash, your tough as nails but compassionate and understanding. You’ve been through so much and it’s made you the incredible woman you are right now.” 

Her eyes start to pool with tears as she listens. Taking a deep breath in and out.

“Have faith in yourself, believe that you deserve all the good that’s about to come to you.” Squeezing her hands, you pull her into a hug.

She rests her head against your chest. Hearing your heartbeat calms her as does taking in your words.“ Thank you,” she whispers,“ for loving me and supporting me even when things weren’t always the best between us.”

Pulling away slightly, you look down into her eyes and smile,“ I told you you wouldn’t lose me Nat and I meant that. I’m always gonna be there for you.”

And it’s true. You and Natasha had hurt each other unintentionally over and over again and forgave each other over and over again. But there was and will always be love between you. Something neither of you would run away from or disregard.

Your honest words and comfort gives Natasha every bit of the courage and push she needs to move forward. 

It carries her to the doors of the compound and down the aisle on Nick Fury’s arm. But it’s Bruce’s affirmation of love through his vows that continues to encourage her. 

When they seal their union with a kiss you’re smiling and clapping alongside everyone else who came to support the two. 

Through the ceremony into the reception you love seeing how happy Natasha is. A beautiful smile stays plastered on her face. 

Leaning against the bar, you signal for the tender to get a refill on your scotch and Lena’s Merlot. 

“I hear you’re the reason Nat walked down the aisle today.” 

Bruce’s deep voice grabs your attention and you look to your side at the freshly shaven, normal sized, man in his tux. 

“First off, congratulations Mr. Banner,” you clap a hand onto his shoulder,“ second of all you are the reason she walked down that aisle. She was just nervous and I lended some encouraging words but her love for you man, that’s why she said ‘I do’.”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips and he nods, looking down at the bartop,“ yeah you’re right. Even though she said ‘I do’ I still can’t believe she’s mine ya know.” 

You laugh as well, accepting the drinks and turning to look at Lena. You’d done so without thought, when it came to being lucky with love she’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

No, the two of you aren’t getting married any time soon, but every time she tells you she loves you, or kisses you, or even looks at you with adoration, you can’t believe she’s yours.

“I know exactly what you mean buddy.” Your gaze shifts and you nudge his arm with your elbow, nodding to the woman standing in the middle of the dance floor.“ Think your wife wants a dance.” You look over and tell him. 

He turns around, gaze passing yours to look to the dance floor,“ yeah from you.”

Your eyebrows raise and you look back to Natasha who smiles and points to you. 

“Oh, we’ll talk later.” Bruce nods to you before you walk away. Making a quick detour, you drop Lena’s wine off, kiss her cheek, sip your drink, and jog over to Natasha. 

Over exaggeratedly, you wave your hand and bow, waiting for her to slip her hand into yours with a loud laugh. Pulling her into your embrace you both sway to the song that plays.

The conversation between you two can’t be heard over the music and you’re glad. She thanks you for everything and an affirmation of platonic love is exchanged between you. Laughter flowing as you joke around afterwards.

About three songs in, Bruce approaches, asking for a dance and you gladly step away. Turning to find Lena.

The curl of your finger beckons her over to the dance floor and she smiles while approaching. Her arms wrap around your neck and yours around her waist. 

It’s a silent dance, kisses exchanged in between gazes full of love and admiration.

But in a room full of your chaotically loveable family, you know it won’t last.

Being the best friend that she is, Wanda appears damn near out of nowhere. From beside you, she wraps her arms around both yourself and Lena and sways along to the music with you. 

Your girlfriend and best friend laugh out loud, eyes crinkling as the musical sounds fill the air around you. All the while you can’t help but stare, an adoringly cute smile on your face.

Admittedly you never thought you’d make it to this point. Had you been asked almost a year ago if this sort of big, bold, beautiful happiness was achievable, you would’ve said no or given the longest explanation as to why it wasn’t.

Right now though, with both women that you’d give your life for in your arms and your family and friends around you, you can’t imagine where you'd be without it.

Without Lena. 

You aren’t sure if she knows how greatly she’s changed your outlook on things. It’s not like you told her, but if you could, you don’t know how you would say it. 

Lena came into your life and made you smile again. She’s shown you a trust that you don’t think you’ve ever experienced. The green eyed woman gave you every reason to crawl from that dark space you’d been in to see the light on the other side.

While you would never discredit all that Natasha had taught you about love and partnership, because it was indeed a life changing story between you and the ex-assassin, this is entirely different.

Honestly, you’d forgotten this kind of love and Lena retaught it to you. It’s your gorgeous and brilliant love with her that reaffirmed for you what love is. With Lena you’ve been given what you thought you lost. And it’s because of that that you have no problem falling in love with her all over again everyday.  

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom​ @chicken-wang09​ @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl​ @blackluthxr @starlingelliot @vxidnik

[phantomrose96]

Hero Syndrome

There’s a young woman who has admired the Symbol of Peace for her entire life.

She doesn’t remember the first time she saw him on television. He’s just always been there as an eternal, unshakable constant – a comfort through every part of her life – promising to save anyone who needs him. And he does save her, even if he doesn’t know it. Because it’s his laughter, his smile, his ease and assurance speaking about rescues that keeps the flame burning in her heart when she had nothing else to cling to. He is the guiding light for her life that had no other purpose in it.

She is ignited with an all-consuming drive to follow in his footsteps. And it is a drive that defines her more than her own name.

She wants to save people with a smile. She wants to pull people from the depths of despair. She wants to stand at the top of the world and say “It’s alright now, because I am here.” if only so she can pay him back for all the comfort he’s given her in her life.  

Posters of the Symbol of Peace find their way onto her walls, into her binders and desktop backgrounds. She joins no clubs so she can spend all her free time honing her quirk. She runs more, and lifts more, and trains more than anyone else. The future she imagines every day has her standing at his side, and it is a bright, bright future.

She doesn’t get into U.A.

As much as she prepared herself for it, the reality is crushing. She sobs into her bedspread when the rejection letter comes, and stops briefly to peel the posters off the walls first, so the Symbol of Peace cannot see her cry like this. Heroes shouldn’t cry. Heroes shouldn’t give up. She can’t either. Her 4th-choice school has sent her an acceptance letter, and she’ll make sure that’s still good enough. She vows to keep working harder than everyone at U.A. to make up for it.

She graduates from her hero course as valedictorian. She’s given a ten minute slot during graduation to present her speech, and the speech suddenly means nothing and everything to her when she learns her school managed to book the Symbol of Peace as the keynote speaker. The Symbol of Peace far upstages her, and she doesn’t even care. She’s spellbound all over, and savors the ghost of the tingle in her fingertips from the brief second they pass each other. He doesn’t know this, but the moments spent sharing the stage mean the entire world to her.

She takes another vow now, to share a stage with him again in the future, as a colleague. She vows to make this moment the starting line for the beginning of the rest of her life.

When she shows up to Slice’N’Dice’s hero agency on her first day as a debut sidekick, she’s met with a bare white-walled room of peeling paint. There’s a single sputtering fan in the corner pointed directly, and only, at Slice’N’Dice’s desk. She feels the sweat trickling down her neck already, the swampy humid air, the cicadas chirping behind her, as she stands there holding her hero uniform in a box.

“I’m very excited to be working with you,” she says with a full bow. Slice’N’Dice looks up from his desk, and grunts, and goes back to puffing on the loose cigarette hanging from his lips. He’s slumped in his chair, uniform loose-fitting around rather skeletal arms and ballooned around his distended waist. He’s unbuckled his belt, and pulls deeply from his cigarette, and tunes the dial on the crackling police scanner on his desk.

“You know how to make a pot of coffee?” he asks her.

On the third day of her sidekick career, they go on patrol. Her mom has washed and pressed her uniform for exactly this occasion. She feels hope bubbling in her stomach where a rock-like weight had sat before. She wonders what it’ll feel like to have eyes shift to her as she walks, what excited kids will tug on their parents’ sleeves and point, what it will really feel like to be on this side of the uniform.

Slice’N’Dice doesn’t take her to the streets of Tokyo. They meander through empty alleys and hot, putrid industrial backways. He stops at an outdoor storage unit, and unloops the keys from his unbuckled belt, and opens the unit. Inside are bikes. Dozens of them. Dented and rusted into disrepair. He pulls out two and walks them on either side of him, motioning her to do the same. She does.

“What are the bikes for?”

Slice’N’Dice grunts.

Ten minutes more of walking, and they are standing at the mouth of a neighborhood. The air carries the pungent scent of gasoline. Windows appear as broken glass and particle boards, nailed into place. The peeling paint along the apartment facades reminds her of the peeling paint in the office.

Slice’N’Dice props a bike against a lamppost. And he pulls a small metal lens from his pocket and affixes it to the post just above the bike. On his phone, he fiddles an app open, and she sees two green lights blink on the metal lens.

Slice’N’Dice moves on. He motions her to follow.

“Why are we leaving the bike?” she asks.

“Gonna catch some thieves.”

“With the bike?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re leaving it here.”

Slice’N’Dice shrugs. “Yeah? Ain’t telling anyone to steal it. That’s their problem.”

“You want it to get stolen?”

“We gotta resolve some incidents if we wanna get paid.”

“Then, let’s resolve some incidents for real!” She thrusts a hand out, motioning, nearly tipping and just barely catching the bike at her left side. “Let’s patrol Tokyo and stop actual crime that’s happening.”

Slice’N’Dice barks a laugh. “We don’t have a zoning permit to patrol Tokyo, are you nuts? Maybe if the 2,000 Tokyo hero agencies all go belly-up, and the other 20,000 on the waiting list drop dead too, then maybe we could stake out Tokyo.”

She falters. “We shouldn’t be creating crime. We’re heroes, that’s just--”

“431.” Slice’N’Dice holds a hand up to her, and he draws his words out, like all the smoke from his cigarettes. “I got 431 applications for sidekicks. If you’re gonna leave, leave. I don’t really care. I’ll take any of the other ones. I don’t care.”

She freezes, sick with ice in her stomach.

“…And why’d you choose me?”

“Top of the pile.”

Slice’N’Dice shuffles along. She stands rooted in place. She’d been one of only three people from her graduating class to have a sidekick offer lined up right out of school.

It had been because she’d worked hard – harder than everyone else – to be a hero. Because she – more than anyone – had dreamed of this future.

Slice’N’Dice coughs wetly. He pauses to spit into the street, and keeps on shuffling.

…

There is a young man who’s admired the Symbol of Peace for his entire life.

He’s grown up half-raising himself, enraptured by the glow of the television with the Symbol of Peace’s shining smile. It is a smile that could move mountains, and his is a laugh that could shake oceans.  The young man watched these interviews on repeat while his mother worked double-shifts through the night. Those interviews formed him, brought a flicker of hope into his small and hollow world, brought moments to his life where he did not mind the opportunistic roaches scuttling up the couch, nor the rattle of the leaking pipes overhead, nor the dense headiness of mold in the carpets. They showed him hope. They showed him a path forward.

The young man dreams every day of the life he’ll lead when he’s a hero as well. His mom won’t suffer anymore when he’s a hero. No kid will go to bed hungry when he’s a hero. He’ll smile like the Symbol of Peace smiles, and he’ll move the oceans and the mountains too.

The U.A. rejection doesn’t deter him. He knew it would be a rejection before he even received the envelope. Only 1 in 1,000 applicants get into U.A. anymore, and that number skews further out of his favor when considering the legacy admissions to U.A., and the recommended kids who’d been through expensive personal hero-training regimens, and the parents who could curry a bit more favor by offering to fund a new U.A. training ground.

The young man never stood a chance, and he knew it. He’s more motivated, if anything, by the rejection letter. He wants the chance to stand out as someone who can break the U.A.-to-Pro pipeline. He’ll start from lower, and he’ll rise above the rest, because it’s who he is at his core.

The rejection letters continue to roll in. His second, his third, his fourth choices – down to his fifteenth – all come in thin, thin envelopes, too thin to contain good news. This happens to a lot of people, he reads. The hero market is oversaturated, he knows. Caps on hero course enrollment are getting tighter, he understands. But to have every door shut on him almost shakes his hard-earned resolve.

His tenth-choice school informs him there is a General Studies slot open. They offer it to him, and he almost, almost takes it.

But the Symbol of Peace never gave up his dreams. So he won’t either.

The young man has a pamphlet on his desk for a for-profit hero school just 20 miles outside town. It boasts no enrollment cap, no admissions test, We believe everyone is capable of proving themselves through hard work! We do not let dreams die halfway! The only admission criteria is the price tag. It is steep, the kind of steep that his part-time jobs and meager savings could never cover.

There’s an old man running the backroom of the corner store who gives out loans. This man doesn’t ask for credit or credentials there. His loans are in cash, day-of, with few questions asked. The young man knows this because he works part-time at this corner store, and sees the steady stream of strung-out clients filtering in and out, wracking up debt, caught in a personal hell the young man vowed to never fall into himself. But these are the people he intends to help one day as a pro-hero. And sacrifice must become something he’s comfortable with if he ever hopes to live up to the Symbol of Peace.

During his next shift, the young man takes to the backroom, and lays out his terms while the old man breathes cigar smoke into his face, and he has the money in-hand before the end of the night.

He’ll likely have to pay it back two-fold – maybe three-fold -- in interest. The young man knows this, he is not dumb. But he also knows how lucrative the pro-hero business is for those at the top. The government payout for heroes is pittance, at best, but hero merch sales pay out in gold. The Symbol of Peace has been named among Japan’s top 100 wealthiest men for the last ten years.

He won’t tell his mother about the loan. He intends to pay the debt back before she ever finds out.

He enrolls. He pays the tuition fee. He’s given a class schedule, a uniform, a syllabus, a dormitory. He moves out, away from the roaches and the rats, and it is a dream. He sees the start of the rest of his life on the day that he and all his new classmates are welcomed to campus as up-and-coming heroes.

Two years pass when the for-profit hero school loses its accreditation.

He, and all other students, are informed in a single curt email from the administration. All staff are fired. All courses are canceled. All students have three days to vacate the dormitories. The school entity is dissolved, and there money is gone.

The world drops out from beneath his feet. He can’t take the provisional license exam without a hero institution behind him. He can’t apply to sidekick positions without a provisional license. He moves back home, and resumes his part-time job, and sends in ten applications a day to every hero course in the country that accepts transfer students. When all of them yield rejections, he focuses on applying to every internship listing he can find.

None of them want him. Not when the market is already oversaturated with applicants who have an actual hero school backing them.

Years pass around him in a blur. His every cent earned from the corner store job is immediately garnished to pay his debts that come due, and they hardly make a dent. The compounding interest builds as a rate that surpasses his pay. A lifetime of this work would never repay his debt.

The old man in the tattered wifebeater shirt calls him into the back room one day. The old man shows no malice in his sleepy eyes, but exudes a pressure the young man can only describe as blood-lust. He’s heard the man’s quirk is suffocation, and he prays that this is not the day he learns this first-hand.

“These numbers… are not trending in your favor,” the man says between long drags of the cigar in his hand.

“I know.”

“I’d like to know. How do you plan to pay me back for my generosity?”

“Hero work,” the young man answers, just as he did all those years back when he first negotiated for his loan. “I just need—”

“What hero agency is hiring these days?” the man asks. “So, so few, anymore. Hardly any, anymore.”

“I know.”

“I’m not optimistic for you, you know.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I just—” the young man jolts forward, pleading eyes boring into the old man. “I just need to catch one break! I just need one ‘yes’ to kick things off! I can handle everything after that. I just need your patience, until then, and then I’ll make good. I’ll make you whole.”

“I’m old,” the man says with another long drag of his cigar. “Old old old, and getting older. Money won’t be much good to me when I’m all too old and dead. We agreed on now… being when you paid me back what I gave you so kindly.”

“Please… I don’t have the money. But I’ll get it.”

“You will. You’ll earn it.” The man’s joints crack as he pushes to his feet, and hobbles into the cellar-dark back of the shop, and returns gripping a single weathered gun which he slides across to the young man. “Here. For your protection. You’re no good dead. Don’t try anything funny with it though, I’m faster than I look.”

The young man swallows. “…Why are you giving me a gun?”

“Because you’ll need it for the jobs I have for you.”

“Please… I have a job already. I work in this shop already.”

“I have many more jobs for you right now. You should be grateful. You’ve had so little luck with jobs. Take the gun.”

Hesitantly, reluctantly, the young man picks up the gun. It’s heavier than he expects. But just as cold as he imagined.

“I don’t want the gun…”

“You’ll need the gun.”

“I don’t…” he hesitates. “I don’t want to do your jobs. I don’t want to be a villain. I don’t—”

The old man wheezes out a laugh. Mirth cracks on his old face. “What even is a villain? Childish word.”

“The Symbol says—”

The young man’s breath freezes in his throat, and it is not of his own doing.

“Silence, now. You talk to much. Your mother talks too much too, about you. Shopping here, all the time, for you two. Chatter chatter chatter. I like to make people quiet. It’s good for my peace of mind.”

The young man exhales forcefully. His breath comes back in gasps. His world crushes in around him.

“Now, would you like to hear about the new jobs I have for you?” the old man asks.

The young man shuts his eyes tight, and he wills, prays, hopes for this to end. And nothing answers his prayers.

“…Yes, I’d like to hear about my new jobs,” the young villain answers.

…

There is a boy who has admired the Symbol of Peace his entire life.

He plays hero in the park with his two friends every day of elementary school, even through wind and rain and snow and scorching heat. Their games are squall rescues in the rain, and avalanche missions in the snow, and desert expeditions in the heat.

Those two friends are his only two friends. They go elsewhere for middle school, and he is left alone. And his every attempt to make new friends is squashed by the bullies that have found him to be such a deliciously easy target. He endures it, he accepts it, he channels all his hope and all his faith into the Symbol of Peace. The bullies’ words hurt less when he trawls through video playlists of interviews, and motivational speeches, and candid rescues. There is no hurt, and there is no danger, and there is no unfairness where the Symbol of Peace is involved. When the boy’s parents divorce, when his dog passes on, when his grandmother gets cancer, he watches the Symbol of Peace’s interviews on loop.

The boy stops bothering trying to make friends in middle school. The enormity of the task ahead of him is too much and too important for friends. He trains alone every day during recess instead, and after school, and into the night, and early in the morning. Every pull-up is another imaginary meter scaled in a mountain rescue. Every mile run with his weighted vest is a collapsed hiker carried out of the woods. Every deadlift is raising the roof from the victim of a hurricane. Every heat-exhausted quirk honing session is another life saved.

He’s sure to smile, every time, no matter what, because one day there will be real people he rescues who need to see that smile.

He is 12 when he buys a police scanner.

It’s not a real one. More like a repurposed ham radio, rigged up to the emergency response frequencies. He purchased the radio online from a man with the username radrigs89, and the purchase eats up most of the boy’s savings. He’s heartbroken when he finds the radio does not actually pick up signals.

But he doesn’t give up. Instead the boy pours all his free time into rigging it up properly himself. He needs this to work. Because he knows from the Symbol of Peace that a true hallmark of a top hero is having stories of bravery from their middle school days.

Three months after his purchase, he strikes gold.

The raspy speakers crackle out with police chatter. He sits enraptured in his room, idling away his Friday night listening for anything nearby. Anything he could get to on his bike. Any scene that would need his quirk. Most things that comes through are traffic infractions, or noise complaints, or incidents with heroes already at the scene. The boy decides to be patient. He’ll know in his gut when the right report comes through.

Just over a week later, at 10pm on a Saturday, there is a fire twelve blocks from his home.

He is on his bike from the moment the address is relayed over the radio.

The ride over is a blur. His fingers tingle. The building is an apartment complex. The police are at least fifteen minutes away by car. There are no heroes yet on the scene.

He takes the final left too hard and wipes out, bike skidding away horizontally beneath him. He bounces up to his feet and pays it little mind, because the air has spiked hot, because the red-orange light dances and reflects in his eyes, consuming the building, consuming his thoughts. It is like a heartbeat licking inside the windows, and it compels his body to move without his mind.

Residents are crowded in the street below, pajama-clad and chilled in the night air. And he spots her – a little girl, no older than five, gripping her mother’s nightgown and wailing. The little girl has practically gone limp, held up by her balled fists in her mother’s clothing, screaming “MY BUNNY! BUNNY! WE GOTTA GO GET BUNNY!! WE GOTTA SAVE BUNNY!!!”

“We’ll buy a brand new bunny after this, okay? I promise. Brand new bunny! We can get two bunnies who are friends, I promise. I promise.”

“NOIWANTBUNNY!!!!”

The boy races over, and he crouches to the girl’s level, and he smiles. “It’s okay now! I’m here! There’s no need to cry now. I can rescue your bunny. I have a quirk just right for this! Where’s your bunny?”

The little girl blinks through her tears. “My room.”

“What apartment?” the boy asks.

“No. Dear. No please, I promise we’ll get a new bunny!”

“2…. 2-J!” the girl answers.

“HEY WAIT!” the mother yells after him, but it is too late. The boy has turned heel and run. There’s fear in his heart, sure, but heroes fight through fear. There’s a voice in his head saying “turn back!” but he has to act without thinking if he wants to rise to the likes of the Symbol of Peace. The bunny. The bunny is a life worth protecting. The little girl’s smile is a smile worth protecting.

He bursts through the front door, and he curls his fingers to activate his quirk. A chill sweeps through the hallway, dragging the air from scalding to breathable. His internal temperature ticks up just a fraction.

The stairs, only one flight. He scales it, the white floral wallpaper glowing with am amber ambiance from the flames eating the scaffolding behind it. He rounds into the hallway where the heat claws into his throat once more. Another tensing of his fingers, another activation of his quirk, another gust of chilled air. He feels his brow grow hotter in recoil.

All doors have been flung open all along the hall, including the one marked with the 2-J plaque beside it. He wastes no time entering, and hesitates only a moment as the first bare sight of fire meets his eyes. The living room is consumed, the lemon couch scorched to half a skeletal frame, the television melted unrecognizable. Aerosolized plastics, wood, and fibers assault his throat, so hot he feels he is breathing in a solid mass. It reduces him to a fit of coughing, soot taking out his sight for the moment. His fist curls, a gust of cold air blasts through, and he is breathing again. Just a bit dizzier. His forehead burns independent of the flame.

Girl’s room. Little girl’s room.

It’s easy enough to find. Pink walls, a single twin bed with frills along the skirt, circular white rug plush and soft at the dead center of the room. It’s less hot in here, by a fraction. The fire hasn’t claimed it yet.

Cage. Bunny. Rabbit. Where?

He scans the length of the room in a second, and scans it again. He expects a cage at shelf-level, and when he sees none, he scans the floor for any sign of a pen. He steps over the threshold, growing more frantic.

“Bunny!” he calls out and feels foolish for wasting the breath.

Closet, maybe. He grabs the metal handle, and recoils when the heat bites him. He wads his hand in his shirt the second time around and yanks the door open. Clothes, hangers. He sweeps everything aside and stares at a floor of shoes. Sweat trickles down his neck in rivulets. Every article of clothing sticks to him. His mouth is drying.

He sweeps his hand out, tensed into a claw. Another swirl of cold air streams through the room. He feels it in his heart this time, a slight stutter, a hotness and redness along his cheeks. His internal temperature ticks up another fraction.

“Run,” the little voice in his head says. “You’ll over-exert your quirk. You know that’s dangerous. Run.”

But he can’t. Because heroes act without thinking.

There’s a creaking overhead. It starts low and slow, almost inaudible over the hum and crackle of the fire one room over. It crescendos to a groaning, and it steals the boy’s full attention right when it hits its breaking point.

The ceiling caves, just above the doorway. Lumber and drywall and embers pour down like sand. He dodges, just in time, throwing himself sprawling on the super-heated ground such that the collapsing rubble only claims his right ankle.

The floor is burning into him. He twists, staring at his foot, staring at the entrance to the room now blockaded with debris. The fire licks about the doorway, crawling with slow, opportunistic bursts.

His lungs hurt.

“…Freeze,” he wheezes out, fingers curling, another sweep of bitter cold air bursting through the room. The momentary relief is welcome, but the lingering swell of heat in his cheeks negates it. He sees the flames stutter, and hesitate, and crawl forward again.

“Freeze!” again. A blow of icy air. A buffeting of the flames. A scorch to his cheeks heating with the quirk recoil.

He yanks on his ankle, and the lumber pinning it shifts a fraction.

“Freeze!”

He looks forward, chin pressed to the carpet. He sees it now, one floppy ear peeking out beneath the bed skirt. The fraction of space between the skirt and the floor reveals a plush face in shadow, and he sees two beady glass eyes dancing with the reflection of flames.

He’s licked with a moment of nostalgia, for the days spent playing hero with his friends. Stuffed animals had played their rescue victims so many times before. The stuffed bunny is a welcome sight, almost, it fits right into the fantasy he’d spent so many years constructing.

The other pieces don’t fit. The air licks so, so much hotter than the pretend arson rescues. The smoke is so much more choking than the fantasies in his head. Even the heat training, with the heaviest vest weights, in the peak of summer, couldn’t compare.

The Symbol of Peace never seemed bothered, even in the worst of his rescues. The Symbol of Peace never failed. Somehow, the boy had never considered failure as a possibility. Heroes just needed the courage to act, and the rest followed.

“...Freeze.”

His fingers curl. The flames reel back like a scolded animal, but linger, curious, experimental, as if testing his resolve. His face is burning up. He can’t tell how high his fever has spiked, but it’s high enough to make him drowsy. His eyelids flicker, and flutter, and it would be so much easier to let them shut.

The flames catch him dozing off, as they crawl forward with courage.

Before his eyes shut, he remembers one important thing. He smiles at the bunny.

Its wide glass eyes reflect his smile back. And even when the boy’s eyes flutter shut, the bunny’s remain open, unblinking, unseeing, dancing in the flames.

…

The Symbol of Peace mounts the stage with slow, commanding steps. The crowd that’s gathered tips into the tens of thousands, and that is not even counting those redirected to the overflow area. The people right near the front of the stage have been camping in their spots for over a day.

The applause that meets him is uproarious. He raises a gloved hand to ask for quiet, and is met only with a crescendo of hollers. They settle, eventually, as he takes his position by the podium, as he sets one white-gloved hand to the stand, and raises the microphone to his mouth with the other. The audience hushes steadily, enraptured, eager for him to speak.

“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out here today,” he says, and he says it with a voice that can shake oceans, and delivers it with a smile that can move mountains. “This day means a lot to me, more than I can put into words, to be so honored by all of you.” He taps the medal affixed to his chest. “To be receiving the highest honor I could have ever imagined receiving. The Lifetime Achievement in Heroics…”

Applause, stronger and more raucous than the first round, meet his ears. He lets it ring this time, while tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

“I would not be here without you! I would not be anywhere near this podium without the love and patience and inspiration from all the people who believed it me when I needed it the most. I would not be 15,000 rescues into my career, and I would not be the second person to ever receive this award, if I had been traveling this path alone.”

Hoots. Hollers. Screams of “WELOVEYOU!”

“And it’s actually that first recipient of the Lifetime Achievement award who I want to talk about today, with you all. Because this day is special to me for an entirely other reason. Today marks the anniversary of the day that man – that first recipient – All Might – told me the words that set me on the path to where I stand today.” The Symbol of Peace steps away from the podium, microphone still in hand, and moves to the very front of the stage. “ ‘You can be a hero, too.’ Those words. That single sentence. Changed my life forever. I would not be here. I would not be ‘Deku’. I would not be the Symbol of Peace without them.”

He pauses for another chorus of cheers, screams and applause and celebration. His smile spreads wide, his soft freckled cheeks dimpled and scrunched high, his messy hair falling over his forehead, and it is a look that has captured an entire nation’s heart.

“So I want to take this time I have in front of you all to return the favor All Might gave me all those years ago. This is for everyone who needs to hear these words! For everyone who needs someone who believes in them! For everyone looking to do right in the world. This goes out to you!” And he lifts his microphone up high. “YOU can be a hero too!”

The audience erupts unlike anything before. Their sounds consume the very air. Together, they drown out all other noise as Deku, the Symbol of Peace, clenches his fist high in the air.

Across the nation, children are watching the television broadcast. They are enraptured. They are bright-eyed. They are making plans for what they will say on stage once they stand beside him.

Once they are all heroes too.

[attzi-gearburst]

Day 3: Shine/Shadow (Attzi)

Warnings: none/ maybe light stalker vibes?

Summary: Attzi gets a package (and I make canon something that keeps happening to her repeatedly in-game.)

@daily-writing-challenge

---

Attzi was on Ripple, her favorite water bug in the whole wide world, running through Silvermoon and trying to find a mailbox. She was pretty sure a city this big and open shouldn’t be this hard to navigate, but finding where the gates were in the walls after having been here three times in ten years was proving difficult. Ripple’s feet clicked along the stones, and she kept an eye peeled for her goal, though she was becoming increasingly convinced that she’d be better off just delivering the letter personally.

She turned a corner, and a large building came into sight. Oh good, it was a bank, which meant there’d be mail. All she needed to do was find it….

“Excuse me,” asked a very tall, red-headed Blood Elf, who had one arm casually draped across a–

“Mailbox!” she yelled, pulling Ripple to a halt.

“...Excuse me?” the Blood Elf asked, in a very different tone this time.

Attzi hopped down from Ripple and started walking for the box. “Sorry. You’re kinda blockin’ what I’m after.” She pointed at the mailbox.

The Blood Elf pondered this for a moment, and then recovered, smiling brightly and shifting slightly to one side. “Well, I’m not one to often lose to a mailbox, but if it got you to stop, I have no complaints, miss…?”

“Attzi,” she said absently, closing the distance between them before stretching up and dropping her letter through the slot of the mailbox.

He said something indistinct. Crap. He was standing on her deaf side. She cocked her head, but only caught the last bit: “--ovely to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise!” She tilted her head up, trying to remember if she had ever seen this guy before. “Sorry, uh, didja need somethin’?”

His bright grin showed again. “Well, yes, now that you mention it. I’m a tailor, and I was wondering if you might allow me to make you something as practice? I don’t typically work with the smaller races, you see….” He trailed off, green eyes clearly watching her for a reaction.

“Oh man, you’d need to measure me an’ stuff, right? I don’t got that kinda time today.” Attzi took a step back towards Ripple.

Those green eyes were clearly taking her measure. “Pity. Are you quite sure I can’t convince you otherwise? I have cloth that would suit your coloration quite well. It doesn’t sell as well here, as you might imagine.”

“Eh, you know how it is with Goblins an’ business, yeah?” She hopped back onto her bug friend and offered a bright smile, because after years of having manners for work, old habits were hard to quit.

…Was he pouting? She brought a hand to her mouth and coughed to stifle a giggle. “Whew. Ah. Was nice meetin’ ya all the same. May another short woman come through Silvermoon soon, buddy.”

Attzi rode off at that, but she could still feel him watching her until she managed to find the next gate and get closer to the woods outside Silvermoon.

She didn’t take the time to pause and write down the encounter, however, so by the next morning, she’d forgotten all about it. It happened. How could she tell whether or not every tiny encounter she had would be important later?

****

Attzi woke with a groan, from a nightmare of something large and green and dripping acid. She’d had just enough time to register the smell of chemical burning before jolting upright in her bed and looking around.

“...What the–?” She reached for her glasses and her notebook, which were neatly stacked atop one another on the table beside the bed, and let her notes fill her in on the bits her brain had sent to the Void. Solving the mystery of the day before was the typical start to her mornings these days.

As her eyes flicked back and forth across the page, she sighed and shook her head. What a fuckin’ embarassing initiation into the fighting side of the Frostbite Contingent. If they didn’t think she was deadweight after that, it’d be a miracle. So’s there’d need to be some damage control there.

“I need a lotta coffee,” she muttered, swinging off the side of her bed and kicking into her slippers, before grabbing her comfiest robe from where she’d left it on the floor the night before.

While the coffee brewed, she checked her mailbox, and was surprised to discover a sizeable wrapped parcel, sent from Silvermoon. She brought it into the kitchen and made her breakfast before giving in to curiosity and opening it.

Pulling back the parcel paper revealed some black and red cloth, as well as a small card. She picked that up first and read it over as she sipped her coffee.

Attzi, I do so hope I got your sizes right. If not, you may find me at my shop in Silvermoon for a complementary fitting. I also accept compliments and accolades for a job well done, of course.

Respectfully,

D

She stared at the note in confusion for a moment, and then set it aside. “What in the–?”

Attzi pulled out the first article of clothing, which turned out to be a stocking. “...Well, D definitely don’t stand for ‘Dave’, here,” she muttered, setting it aside and digging into the rest of the package. It contained another stocking, a set of strappy underwear, and a bit of cloth that could, potentially, be called a ‘top’.

She had a sip of coffee and moved for her notebook, flipping through the last five pages before giving up with a sigh. No clues or warnings about this had been written down.

…But at the same time, free clothes! She scooped them up and headed to her bedroom to try them on, because that’s where her biggest mirror was. On the one hand, it was a little scary that a blank spot in her memory knew her measurements, but on the other… Hey, they were kinda pretty, in a gaudy way. Not something she’d wear outside of Winter’s Veil, though. The red clashed real bad with her skin and hair. Attzi struck a few poses, laughing despite herself, before peeling off her new clothes and opening her closet to put them away.

The fabric that came to light as the door came open shimmered and shone in the light, largely in colors of teal and golden thread. She ran a thumb along the hanging shirts and dresses, remembering that all of them had been gifts, but not necessarily remembering who had given them to her. Attzi hadn’t had to buy any of her own clothes since she started doing trade deals for the Steamwheedle Cartel. Over the past few years, her wardrobe had become what other people sent her, and honestly, it was pretty convenient.

Usually, though, she knew who was sending her stuff. She settled her newest additions down into various drawers, close to the bottom because the colors really didn’t match her skin. There was a place for all things, sure, even the stuff that clashed. And whoever sent it had clearly tried, so who was she to turn up her nose?

Attzi shut the drawer, closed up her closet, and then returned to looking at the card that had come with the clothes, trying very hard to spark a memory.

Nothing came. The only thing in her memories were her coworkers, and a great creature that had melted everything that it touched. Anything else in her head that could help her had been melted away, as though the one memory she’d kept from last night had done the same damage in her mind as it had threatened to in real life.

Ah, well. Maybe the tailor'd left an address she could send a thanks to.

[itstittycitybaby]

Naivety is Enduring (Lin Beifong x reader)

a/n: can’t figure out a better title lmao but this fic is based on one of the asks i’ve gotten. reader is a shy, oblivious officer at the station who’s accidentally been flirting with Lin. 

You kept your head up as you sifted through the streets of Republic City. The streets were almost completely bare with little to no traffic. However, about an hour later that’s when chaos errupted. Your shift started in thirty minutes, but you always took pride on being early. 

Your job wasn’t too important. Compared to the detectives, the actual officers that made rounds, and chief Beifong, it was insignificant. The front desk needed somebody to help keep things under control and dealt with the people coming in and out. It didn’t matter to you. In fact you preferred it. Working the front desk made it easier for you to be more discreet. The quiet and the calm helped ground you unlike going into the streets of the city everyday. Talking to some of the people coming in and out still made you anxious, but it wasn’t so bad.

Letting out a soft sigh, you unlocked the doors. It was dark in the station, which was expected, but in the hall a light was on. It was the last door on the left. Chief Beifong’s office. You couldn’t help but frown. It was four thirty am. Everyone was either asleep or making their way to the station. You weren’t surprised; Chief Beifong was known to work late into the night and the early morning. There was no stopping her. 

Setting down your stuff, you started opening up. You winced at the bright lights as they flickered on. Everything seemed to be there where you left it. You groaned at the never ending filing you had to do. Along with the petty reports you had to sign and date.

Time passed for ten minutes. Then fifteen. You thought Chief Beifong would have left her office. She usually did whenever the first person came into the station but she stayed locked up.

Shaking it off, you made your way to the break room. A pot of coffee would freshen the two of you up. Though, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. Talking to people had never been your strong suit. Especially Chief Beifong. The officers did their best to tread around her carefully and only speak to her when they had to. “Everyone deserves someone to talk to,” you reassured yourself as you poured water into the pot. “Even if they’re fucking terrifying.”

When the coffee was finished you grabbed two mugs. You put sugar and cream in yours. You had a feeling Chief Beifong didn’t like anything in her coffee. If she didn’t like it so be it. At least you tried. Pushing the door open with your hips, you clutched the mugs in your hand tightly. You cursed softly as some of the hot coffee spilled onto your hand. Your hand became a bit red and it hurt like a mother fucker. You made your way past a couple of officers and nodded and smiled at them. They murmured a good morning but continued to chat. No matter, you weren’t as important as they were, you mused.

You swallowed thickly as you stood in front of the imposing door. Chief Beifong never failed to make you nervous. She was scary as hell but before you could chicken out, you knocked on her door twice. Good number. Not too hard and not too soft, you thought. “Come in,” a gruff, but muffled voice replied from the other side of the door. 

Pushing aside your nerves, you opened the door quietly. The head of gray hair that you loved lifted up from the papers in front of her. A brow raised in your direction with a tiny frown on her face. “Yes?”

You fought the urge to fidget and gave the chief an uneasy smile. Focus. “I saw you were still awake,” you said softly, trying not to make her more irritated, “so I brought you a mug of coffee.” Chief Beifong’s eyes narrowed a bit. From suspicion or irritation, you couldn’t tell. God, you wanted the floor to swallow you. You hated it when she dissected you with cold stares. It was just a cup of coffee for fucks sake!

You shuffled your feet nervously as you waited her to say something. Either a sharp “Get out” or a gruff “thanks”, you didn’t care. At this point you just wanted to get out. Chief Beifong’s green eyes lightened a bit. A wave of relief washed over you. Success. “Thank you,” she quipped, looking back down at her paper work. “You really shouldn’t have.” “It’s no problem,” you replied, a shy smile on your face. You set the mug carefully with a gentle thud, and made your leave. 

But you felt like it wasn’t enough. You wanted to be different from the other officers. They were all intimidated and terrified of her. Not that you could blame them, but they didn’t even try to be friendly. You had gotten this far, what else could go wrong? So, with all the courage you had left you said, “Have a good day Chief.” With that, you left her office with a surprised Chief behind her desk.

“Ready for training?” You looked up from the files you were sifting through to put away. The stack was never ending but you had made good progress. It had only been one third of it wiped out, but it was still progress. You could barely contain your surprise. “Y-yes Chief Beifong,” you sputtered holding the manilla file tightly. Her brow twitched and her eyes stared into your soul. Were they always that pretty?

“Good. You’re up in ten.” You nodded, “Yes m’am.” You swore you saw a smirk before she turned around and left you there standing like an idiot. “Get yourself together,” you whispered harshly, cheeks burning.

You sighed as the hot water hit your back. The aching joints and your sore muscles started to soothe under the shower’s water. You’ve always hated training especially whenever the Chief observed you. It was her job but still, did she have to stare? She wasn’t afraid to correct you every five seconds, but how could you concentrate whenever you had a HUGE crush on her? “Fuckin…Chief having to be her hot…self whenever she’s around,” you grumbled to yourself in the empty locker room.

Shivering, you hurried to your satchel to change back into your uniform. The towel around you did little to warm your body. “Didn’t think I’d still see you here.” You jumped. “Oh my god,” you squeaked, pulling your towel closer to you. “C-Chief,” you greeted, cheeks flaming. “P-pleasant surprise.” 

She didn’t say anything as she grabbed her bag. She still had her white tank top on which showed off her toned arms. The cargo pants she wore hugged her ass perfectly. The chief’s normally gray hair was pulled up into a bun. Fuck, did she look good.

Suddenly, Chief Beifong turned to you. You jumped, startled, eyes snapping up to hers. She looked surprised and you swear to the spirits her cheeks turned slightly pink. “U-uh uhhh uhhh,” you sputtered, trying to explain yourself. Grabbing your bag with incredible speed, you spilled out, “I-I gotta go C-Chief! Nice uhhhh talking to you!” With that you dashed out of the locker rooms and left a dumfounded Lin Beifong.

“I fucking hate myself,” you spat in the mirror as you flung your uniform back on. Chief Beifong caught you checking her out. You were fucked. Screwed. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if she handed you resignation letters once you got back to the front desk. You could’t blame her. Maybe you could find a nice little job? Out in the surrounding cities? Far away from Republic City? That sounded like a great idea. You could see it now. Sure the pay wouldn’t probably be the greatest, but it’s better than having the embarassment of being fired in front of your colleagues. They already thought your rank was a disgrace. Imagine the gossip once they figured out the reason for getting fired.

Sighing, you begrudgingly trudged out of the bathroom. Anxiety bubbled in your chest as you left the safe haven behind you and returned to your desk. Maybe she’d just forget about it? “She wont,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Get yourself together,” you scolded yourself. “We can go home and sulk later. We’ve got a job to do.”

“See you!” You waved, a fake grin plastered on your face. Your coworker didn’t seem to notice though. You hated talking to the officers; they were usually lovely people, but talking to people made you feel smaller claw and insignificant. It was tiring and made you feel stupid that you had trouble talking to people.

Five thirty rolled around on the clock. You still had some filing to finish, sign some mediocre documents, and take care of the citizens coming in and out. Almost everyone had left except for a few people in the station. You were surprised you didn’t find any resignation papers on your desk, or god forbid Chief Beifong waiting at your desk to chew you out. It would be well deserved at least. But now, you didn’t know how to go from here.

Just pretend everything is normal, you told yourself. Oh, if only the spirits were on your side. “Chief Beifong wants to see you.” You sighed, turning to the officer. You hated the pity they held for you. Their face held a grimace as they watched you get up from the floor. “Alright, thanks.” They nodded, but left you to wallow in the anxiety of facing your boss and loosing your job. “Better make the most of it, was great while it lasted.”

Your feet trudged to her door. You felt your heart quicken and the lump in your throat was like a heavy tone. The beating of your heart felt like a sharp dagger piercing into is. You rubbed your clammy hands on your trousers and swallowed. “Enter,” the gruff voice answered once you gathered the courage to knock. Taking one last breath, you gently opened the door. You dreaded the moment the door closed with a soft click.

“I-I’m really sorry,” you stuttered as soon as you went inside. Chief Beifong followed the movement of your twiddling fingers before looking you in the eye. “It was very unprofessional of me to.. d-do that and I understand if you want to fire me.” Chief Beifong didn’t say anything. She looked surprised. Her hands were folded underneath her chin as she studied you. Her green eyes focused in on you. You felt more like a mouse now than you usually did.

“You’re not getting fired.” Confused, you tilted your head. Your brows furrowed deeply. You nibbled your lips as you asked, “What?” Chief Beifong chuckled, “No, in fact, I wanted to ask if you were busy tonight. Maybe get a couple drinks.”

“O-oh,” you said softly, hands dropping by your sides. “Yea sure. I-I can ask some of the other officers if they’d like to come to!” Chief Beifong stared at you. She was trying to process the situation. “No,” she started, “I’m..asking you out..on a date.”

Your eyes widened. Oh. OH. The tips of your ears burned red along with your cheeks. The chief’s eyes glittered with amusement. You nodded, averting her eyes. “Y-yes. I’d like that.” “Good,” she replied, a barely there smirk on her face. “Give me fifteen minutes and I should be finished with this.” Nodding, you made your way to the door. “You got it Chief.” “Lin.” “Huh?” “Call me Lin.” Smiling you said, “Alright, Lin.” It felt foreign on your tongue but you liked it. Leaving her office, you gave her one last timid wave. And no you did not skip all the way back to your desk.

[acnelli]

Coming Home

This is my little story for the HPRomione Discord Popcorn. @remedial-potions gave me the prompt “You can’t just keep pretending things are fine!” and I originally wanted to write some HBP angst, but then changed my mind and wrote this.

Up next is @dot-adsty and I give you the prompt “Flying higher than ever before”.

I also opened my Ask Box and accept prompts from this Prompt List.

Prompt: “You can’t just keep pretending things are fine!”

Ron comes home from a long Auror mission, and Hermione’s plans for the night don’t quite go as she imagined.

You can also read this story on AO3 and FFN.

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

She had it all planned out.

Every little detail, every single thing Hermione needed to buy or prepare for tonight had been neatly written down in handy list form, categorized and sorted.

Around noon it actually looked like everything would be ready when Ron would come home from his Auror mission this late afternoon. Behind half of the points on said list, Hermione had added a green checkmark. The sight of her lists, especially when some of her tasks on it had been checked off already, always had something oddly satisfying.

To have enough time to prepare everything, she left work early today, stopping by the grocery store on her way back home to buy the last of the ingredients she needed for the roast she planned to make for dinner.

Cooking wasn’t really Hermione’s forte. When Ron was home and didn’t have to work ridiculous hours, the flat was always filled with the scent of some delicious meal or another, and on weekends they often enjoyed a cake or some cookies fresh out of the oven. In the last two months, she sure did cook for herself every now and then but she got to admit that these meals mostly consisted of pasta and sandwiches.

When she planned this day she first considered going with take-away, which she was sure, Ron would’ve been more than fine with. But then she quickly dismissed the idea, figuring that following the instructions of Mrs Weasley’s cookbook couldn’t be that hard. It might not win a contest but she was sure to manage something eatable, at least.

Before she went into the kitchen to start preparing the roast, Hermione observed their living room, mentally going through her list again.

On their couch table Hermione had set up the brand new chess set she bought last week while shopping with her mother. Hermione had discovered the set in the display window of a small, cosy shop she would’ve completely missed it if weren’t for the unusually bright colours catching her attention when she walked by. As soon as she had seen the chess set, she made her way inside the shop right away because it practically screamed Ron Weasley. While not exactly the same bright colour of the Chudley Cannons, the usually white squares and wooden game pieces were painted orange. If she wouldn’t have purchased it from a Muggle, it could’ve been easily merchandise of Ron’s favourite Quidditch team.

Hermione walked over to the couch table and placed two tickets for the next Chudley Cannons game this upcoming weekend onto the chessboard. A smile split her face when she thought about his reaction later. Over the past six months the Cannons actually showed some kind of potential to not end up at the bottom of the league at the end of the season, resulting in the tickets to have gotten a little harder to come by. At least, for top games and derbies.

She knew it was probably a little over the top, considering they had been separated for much longer than eight weeks over the last years, but the constant worry and the almost non-existent possibility to talk or write to him during these missions, increased her excitement for Ron to come home ten-fold.

Yes, Hermione definitely felt slightly ridiculous when she placed a giant red bow around the TV and put the fancy Muggle beer into the fridge, but Ron’s absence caused a restlessness she had to overcome somehow. It also didn’t help that the few letters she got from him made Ron sound mentally and physically exhausted. Even though she knew next to nothing about this mission, she could tell it affected him more than usual.

That’s why today was all about distracting Ron from work, and what would hopefully be the start of a long, stress-free weekend.

But, of course, it would have just been too perfect if anything went according to plan. Because one hour before Ron was due to arrive at home, everything started to blow up in Hermione’s face. Literally and figuratively.

While she tried to research a way how to fix overcooked meat, Hermione cursed herself numerous times for not doing a test run first. Hermione had plans for everything but when it came to cooking she was obviously rubbish.

I should have just ordered Pizza. Ron loves Pizza.

Giving up on the meat’s consistency she quickly decided that spices and a good sauce could somehow safe this. Just as she was about to add all kinds of spices, she heard the fireplace roaring to life.

Ron was here. And he was early.

Forgetting all about the roast, she bolted out of the kitchen and into the living room, almost tripping over one of the loosened bindings of Ron’s ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron she borrowed. And there he stood, shaking the floo powder out of his hair and off the Auror uniform.

When he looked up at her she didn’t waste another second and jumped into his arms. Something between a sob and a laugh escaped her when Ron hugged her close and she felt him kiss the top of her head.

Pulling back, Hermione took Ron’s face between her hands and tugged him down for a kiss. She waited far too long for this.

When they finally broke apart to come up for air again, Ron softly kissed her forehead. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Hermione said, “And I have a surprise for you!”

“So, you cooking isn’t the surprise?” Ron grinned at her.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?” Ron asked as he shrugged out of his cloak.

“You do. And please take your time.”

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

Ron couldn’t decide if he was more amused or felt more sorry for Hermione as the 3-course-dinner turned into a small disaster.

With the soup, it had been rather easy. It was incredibly salty and he probably dehydrated this very second, but with a good amount of bread and large swigs from his beer, he was able to pretend he liked it quite easily.

But then Hermione served the main course. As soon as Ron took the first bite he wanted to spit it out right away. It was absolutely inedible and he wondered how he could pretend to eat something which wasn’t tasting like the sole of his trainers.

Very slowly he reached for his beer, figuring it would be easier if he swallowed the bite without chewing. Just as he was about to take a swig, Hermione gave up all pretence.

“Oh my God, this is a complete disaster,” she whined, spitting the piece of meat into a hand towel, “Ron, you can give up the act now.”

As he too spit the overcooked shoe sole out of his mouth, he couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping him, and reached for Hermione’s hand.

“Not all is lost,” he reasoned, a little bit surprised about her being so upset about this dinner. Hermione’s attempts to cook or bake usually made for a lot of entertainment for both of them. “There’s still dessert, isn’t it?”

“Yes, right! Dessert!” She jumped up from her seat and ran into the kitchen with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“NO,” Ron heard Hermione cry from the kitchen and he immediately jumped up to join her, “No, Pig! No, no, no, no, no!”

As Ron got into the kitchen he saw Pig sitting in a bowl full of what looked like vanilla cream, happily hooting at Hermione who appeared to be on the verge of tears now. Of course, Pig chose this very moment to finish his bath in their pudding as he flew out of the bowl with wildly flapping wings, coating both Hermione and Ron with a good amount of vanilla cream; Hermione’s hair getting the worst of it.

Ron slowly lifted a finger and swiped some cream from his cheek, licking it off as he was wearing a thoughtful look. “That is pretty good, actually.”

“Oh, stop it!” Hermione let out a resigned sigh. “You can’t just keep pretending things are fine! You have some terrible weeks behind you, and then you come home to your girlfriend serving you food that makes you probably crave the tasteless snacks they feed you with on these missions. I should’ve just-“

“Oi!” Ron interrupted her, not quite being able to hide his amusement. “Stop the rambling, barmy woman.” He took her face in his hands and leaned down, so he was at eye level with her. “All I wanted for today was finally seeing you again, Hermione. You never before got upset about bollocking up some cooking. What’s the matter?”

“I- I just wanted to distract you from this mission and make this evening somewhat special, and by now, Pig most likely decorated the whole living room with our pudding.”

Ron simply kissed her. His hands went from her cheeks inside her curly hair, changing their angle a bit to deepen the kiss. As Hermione let her hands wander from his chest back to his shoulders blades and down to the hem of his shirt, Ron decided to make it very clear to Hermione that everything he really needed to feel better, was her. This mission forced Ron to see things he’ll have nightmares about forever, and the only reason he was able to power through all of it, was the prospect of coming home to Hermione. To her touch, to her kisses, to her ramblings about work, to the simple comfort of just having her beside him.

With one swift motion, he swooped her up in his arms. “For such a smart woman, you can be very daft sometimes, love,” Ron said as he walked out of the kitchen.

“I know,” Hermione sighed as she took advantage of her position in Ron’s arms, and left open kisses along the side of his neck and his throat.

Without bothering to clean up the mess in the kitchen and living room, Ron walked them straight to the bedroom, leaving behind a merrily hooting Pigwidgeon who hopped and danced on top of Ron’s new chessboard, coating it with the only eatable dish Hermione produced today.

[unmaskedagain]

Spider Vs Bird

 I worked a long time on this fic. I really liked working on it though and I hope you enjoy it

 Peter met Marinette when they were six-years-old. She had been sent to camp in New York. She had been scared to be so far away from home, and while fluent in English spoke with a heavy accent that made other kids look at her funny.

           Peter had never been away from his parents for more than a few days, ever. He wasn’t happy. He was miserable in fact.  Peter had been sitting alone behind a tree, having escaped canoeing, face hid in his knees. His wanted nothing more than to go home. He sniffled.

“Don’t cry,” A soft voice said next to him. He looked up and saw a pretty bluenette with big blue eyes and a kind smile on her face looking at him. She looked about his age. “It’s okay. Do you miss home too?”

           Peter nodded, and tried to make it look like he was crying. The other boys could be really, really mean. “I want my pops and dad.”

“I miss my mama and papa too,” Marinette said. “I’m really far away from them.”

“Where are you from?” Peter ask curiously. He hadn’t met many people from different countries before and never a kid his own age.

           Marinette played with her hair, “France. Where are you from?”

“New York City,” Peter smiled. “It’s far but not as far as Paris. Do you miss it?”

“Yep; a whole a lot,” Marinette opened the care package from her Mommy and Daddy. It just made her miss them so much more. Her grandma Gina went to this camp when she was small, and so did her dad, so they sent her there too. “Chocolate, Vanilla, or Strawberry.”

           And just like any kid, Peter didn’t ask why she was asking. “I like vanilla.”

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.”

           Marinette nodded and pulled out two cupcakes from her care package. It had been sent overnight. “Here you go, have one.” She handed him a big vanilla cupcake.

Peter’s eyes went wide and he gave her a toothy grin that showed he was missing one of his front tenth. “Thank!” He bite into it. “This is really good,” he said with his mouth full.

“My parents made them,” Marinette smiled then bit into her own chocolate cupcake. “They’re bakers!”

           Peter blinked at her with wide-eyes, “That’s so cool! So they cake cookies and cake and like everything right? You must get to eat as much as you want. I wish my parents were bakers!”

           Marinette just laughed. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

           Steve and Tony would get letters from his son all about the new friend he made. And get a picture of their little boy with his arm around a blue-haired.

“Her name is Marinette,” Steve read the letter. “She’s French. Her parents are the best bakers in the world who send her weekly goodie packages. They have the coolest job ever!”

           Tony blinked, “We’re superheroes.”

           When they picked up Peter a month later from camp, he was ran up to him holding Marinette’s hand, “Dad, Pops; this is Marinette! She’s the best. She really smart and funny and cool. She’s my best friend ever! And-”

           Tony laughed, “Easy there, squirt. Take a breath. Hi Miss Marinette.”

           Marinette blushed but grinned big, “Hi, Mr. Stark, sir. Peter’s really nice. Like really nice. He even stopped a big kid from killing a poor little spider. He was really brave!”

           Peter grinned, “You’re really brave. You’re the one who pushed him when he pushed me the ground. You even made him apologize. It was awesome.” He told his parents. “Can I got to Marinette’s? Please. I want to see her bakery.  Pretty please.”

“Paris is a long ways away bud,” Steve teased. “You didn’t even want to leave for camp remember.”

“Not without your Ameri-bear,” Tony added with a chuckle. “You’ve been sleeping with that old teddy bear ever.”

           They stopped laughing when they saw Peter giving them a wide-eyed look, his mouth dropped opened, with his face a bright red. Before they knew it, Peter was shoving them towards the car, “Be right back, Mari.”

           Peter glared, “Don’t blow this for me.”

           Tony snorted, “Blow what? Do you even know what they means?”

“Yes,” Peter huffed indignantly, though it was a lie. “Marinette’s really, really nice. And smart. And funny. She doesn’t think I’m weird. Or too smart or anything. And she’s so pretty. Like really, really pretty.”

           Steve cooed, “Aww, you have a crush on Marinette.”

“NO!” Peter shouted. His face back to a bright shade of red.

           Tony smirked, “So I shouldn’t send out the wedding invitations then?”

           They were there for every milestone of Peter’s life; the day he was born, the day he crawled, his first word, his first steps, his first lab explosion, his first missing tooth, and his first day of school. Now they were baring witness to the first time Peter visibly looked to be contemplating murder. Unfortunately, it was at them.

“Mari’s parents are really cool,” Peter stated. “Just be cool like them.” Then he ran back to Marinette.

“I’m Tony Stark,” Tony said incredulously.

“I’m Captain America!” Steve said at the same time.

           Still, they ended up meeting the rest of the Dupain-Cheng family, and found them delightful.

           It was from that summer on that the Avengers got used to seeing Peter and Marinette running around the tower together. Peter also got used to be teased for his supposed crush on his best friend. Natasha ended up taking Marinette under wing and training her in combat and the art of spying.

           However, it was only two years later, when the Avengers responded to an intruder alert and found Marinette standing over a hogtied Nick Fury, with a fierce look on her face and Peter looking proud, that Tony said two magical words:

“I ship it.”

           Damian Wayne met Marinette when they were ten-years-old. Damian had only been living with his father for five years but still had trouble acting like a normal kid. The life of a league of shadows member was hard to break from; especially if it’s ingrained from a young age. He had been chastised more than a few times for leaving off on his own, especially in a place like Gotham.

           When Alfred informed them that an old friend and business associate was coming to visit with her granddaughter, a girl Damian’s age; it was to no one’s surprise when his father took him aside and made him promise to be polite.

           The woman Gina had showed up in the beginning of summer. She arrived on a motorcycle that had been so loud they heard as soon as she pulled up to the house. Alfred had answered the door with a chuckle.

“Penny!” The woman exclaimed and jumped at him with a hug. She had short silver, nearly white, hair and dressed mostly black and had a studded black leather jacket on and boots. “Ugh, still as boring as ever, I see,” Gina said once she pulled back from the hug.

“Gina,” Alfred smiled. “You haven’t change a bit.”

           Gina just laughed, and turned her attention to Bruce, “Brucie; I heard you took my advice to go exploring the world. How’d you like it?”

           Bruce smirked, “It was… educational.” He had known Gina since he was a boy, having spent a few summers with Tom, even gone to his and Sabine’s wedding. The woman hadn’t been to visit since Bruce adopted Tim and Cass. “You remember my boys?”

“Dick,” Gina said pulling the oldest Wayne boy into a tight hug. “You get more handsome every time I see. So sorry to hear you and Barbs broke up. I know some amazing girls I can introduce you to.”

           Dick just laughed, “I’m fine flying solo for now.”

“Jason,” Gina said crossing her arms, with a raised eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you since I let you steal my last motorcycle.”

           Jason smirked, “let me?” The only reason he’d happily come to the Manor was because Alfred told him Gina was on her way. She was the coolest lady he knew growing up.

“Oh please,” Gina waved him off. “You drove it to the Barnes and Nobel’s on 4th, and it sat there for like three hours. I have a tracker on my stuff, kid. I let you. Now give me a hug.” Jason laughed and hugged her.

           The same went for Tim and Cass. Cass excitedly told Gina in Chinese all about her adventures in Hong Kong. Tim told her about his trip around the world. Then finally it was Damian’s turn.

           Gina smiled softly at the youngest of Bruce’s kids, “And who’s this?”

           Bruce put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “This is Damian.”

“Nice to meet you, Damian,” Gina said.

           Damian nodded stiffly, “Pleasure.” He wore a black tailored dress pants and a high collard green turtle neck.

           Gina rolled her eyes, “God, Bruce, he’s nearly as uptight as you were at his age.”

“I was not uptight,” Bruce defended, despite knowing he was bratty little shit when he was Damian’s age.

           Alfred snorted but smiled, “And the young guest you brought with you.”

           Gina grinned and held out her hand to her granddaughter who had stayed close to the motorcycle, “She’s a bit a shy.” She told them. “This is Marinette.”

“Hi!” Marinette waved shyly, blushing a bit.

           The family cooed at the sight of the little blue-eyed, bluenette, in a baby blue shirt with a yellow happy face and dark jean short, with her hair in pigtails and big smile on her face. So innocent, so sweet. Bruce, of course, had been acquainted with Marinette. He had gone to the baby shower for her and stopped by the bakery whenever he was in Paris. The girl was the sweetest little thing.

           When Damian and Marinette got sent off to play together, only Alfred, Gina, and Bruce thought it was a good idea. Damian didn’t know why he was being punished. And certainly there were more fitting punishment than spending time with some little kid.

           He sent a cold glare at the bluenette, once they arrived in the entertainment room, “There are video games and movies over there,” Damian pointed to the TV. “Amuse yourself. Or perhaps you would prefer a coloring book and a teddy bear,” He said sarcastically.

           Marinette crossed her arms, “First of all, I would love a coloring book, thank you very much. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He snorted. “And Bruce said we should play together; get to know each other. Or do you frequently disobey an order?” If Damian was a rebel, Marinette needed to know. Because there was a fine line between rebel and troublemaker.

           Damian huffed, “Fine; let’s play a game then. How about… Mortal Kombat.” He sent her a cruel smirk. “Not the video game. Real life. It’s simple. We fight and the first person to die or cry,” He said with distaste. “Loses. Up for it?”

“What weapons do we get?” Marinette asked. Bucky and Natasha had taught her for the last four years on a variety of weapons. Though she knew it was only because of Steve’s doing that they hadn’t taught her how to use a gun yet. They even got a shield agent assigned to Paris to train her throughout the school year.

           Damian raised an eyebrow, curious. He had expected her to run screaming from the room in sheer terror, crying to her grandmother. “What do you prefer?”

“Bo staff.”

“Same,” Damian said. “Let’s take this to the backyard.”

           When Marinette yelled to her grandma that she and Damian were going to play in the backyard, Damian marveled that no one came out with questions filled with suspicious. Granted the first time Damian said he was going to go play in the backyard, he ended up in Watch Tower going over surveillance footage.

           Marinette and Damian stood ten feet apart on the grassy field, each held a long black bo staff. It was quiet. Damian had set an alarm on his phone to begin the fight. Marinette set hers to play music.

           When the loud beeping sounded and Carrie Underwood’s champion started playing, they charged at each other.

           It was a mix of attacks and dodges. Their staffs met; each putting their full force behind it.

“It is not wise to meet a Wayne in Battle,” Damian growled at her.

           Marinette rolled her eyes, “If all Waynes are as big of a jerk as you are, you must all be used to be called out to fight.”

           Damian attacks. The two kids stand in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. The youngest Wayne was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Marinette had no trouble matching him. “You know what you're doing, I'll give you that.”

“Not too bad yourself,” Marinette nodded.

           The two slow walked around the length of the imaginary circle. Until they were in the exact opposite of their initial positions.

“Your taste in music is terrible though,” Damian added on. Marinette let out an angry hiss like a cat and attacks,

           Their duel continued. Their staff flash and ring. Suddenly, Damian swung his staff, partially letting go. Marinette seeing the staff free sailing, ducked quickly. Not seeing Damian catch it at the last second, and then send a kick flying at her chest. Her weapon flew out of her hand. Marinette crashes to the ground, and with a quick swing her legs, sweeps Damian’s feet from under him, losing his weapon in the process.

           Marinette and Damian jumped up, right back in the fighting position. What happened next was a mix of punches and kicks, and headlocks. Until they found themselves once again across from each in their imaginary circle.

Marinette’s hair was a mess, pigtails having come lose. She was covered in welts and bruises from the staff. There was blood on her shirt and dripping her nose.  Damian didn’t look any better. His well-groomed look was gone. His turtleneck had torn. His lip was busted. There was bruising around his neck from when Marinette had wrapped her legs around it and held him in a chokehold, like Natasha had taught her, until he managed to maneuver out of it.

           Giggles burst from Marinette before she could stop them, “You look ridiculous,” She laughed.

“Shall I show you a mirror?” Damian said with a smirk. He chuckled.

           They both shook their heads, looked at each other again, and they each fell over laughing. They only stopped when the sound of applause reached their ears.

           Damian and Marinette looked up and saw the entire Wayne family and Gina watching them.

           Alfred nodded approvingly, “I see she takes after you Gina.”

“That she does,” Gina grinned. “You’re grandson could give a young you a run for your money.”

“How long after you been there?” Marinette squeaked.

           Bruce fought not to smile. “Just as the music started to play. We were going to invite you both in for ice cream.” He had been furious at first at his youngest child for deciding to spar with a civilian but the fury had faded as it became clear that Marinette could keep up with his son. There were times when he was sure one was trying to kill the other but they always held back; even if only just.

           He looked at Gina, “It’s nice to see Damian getting along so well with someone.” He would regret those words soon enough. Very soon.

           Damian and Marinette spent the next few days running after each other and trying to one up another in best surprise attacks. Bruce’s older kids took bets. Jason and Cass voted that Marinette would eventually win. Tim and Dick sided with Damian.

           One day, after lunch, Damian commented on his field trip his class was taking, “The zoo,” he wrinkled his nose. “It’s barbaric. Animals trapped in cages while less human beings gawk in amusement. There’s a new wolf exhibit my teacher is dying to see. It’s all terrible.”  

           Marinette agreed. While she liked the zoo, she always thought the animals looked really sad. She took a sip from her juice box, “So let’s do something about it.”

           That night, after midnight, the two kids climbed out of their windows, onto the roof, and quietly raced into the darkness. When they made it to the Zoo, they wasted no time in disabling the security cameras and breaking in the wolf exhibit. Damian, dressed in his the Robin costume he wasn’t supposed to have yet, managed to calm the wolf down as Marinette, dressed in mostly black with a red mask on, stole a truck (something she learned from Clint.) By the time security managed to get the cameras working again the kids and wolf were gone. All without a trace.

           The kids, and wolf, ditched the truck about a mile from the manor and raced home. They snuck back in through the tunnels of the Batcave that let the batmobile move securely without anyone seeing it.

           However, when they finally got to the Batcave, they were met with the exasperated looks of Batman and Alfred and the highly amused looks of Gina, Nightwing, Redhood, Blackbat, and Robin.

           Damian nodded slowly, not even bothering to try to hide the giant wolf, “Father, I decided that Marinette should stay for summer. She is much more pleasant than I originally thought. And don’t worry, Marinette figured out you were batman her third day here. She even found the cave all on her own.”

           Batman narrowed his eyes. He took of his cowl. He had been alerted that his son and Marinette were missing from their rooms just seconds after he was alerted about a break in at the zoo. He knew his son well. And it didn’t take a genius to be two and two together. “Grounded! One week.” He looked at Gina who nodded in agreement, though the smile was still on her face.

           The kids huffed but nodded.

“And wolf is going back!” That was met with loud protests.

           Marinette stayed at the Wayne Manor for another month. Not long after the grounding was over, Damian came into the living room where his father and siblings were and informed his father that he was leaving, “Alfred is taking Marinette and I to the movies. There is a showing of the new Little Mermaid movie she desires to see.”

           Bruce closed the book he was reading, “Very well. I’ll tag along. We can make a family day out of it.” Dick was the first to agree followed shortly by the others, who wanted to see the havoc Marinette and Damian tended to create.

           Damian visibly froze, “No, father.” He stated firmly. “I had… hoped it would be just Marinette and I. We can be trusted, I assure you.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Bruce started but Jason interrupted him.

“No! Way!” Jason yelled, his eyes wide with a sudden realization, and a grin his face. “You like her.”

           It was the entire room’s turn to freeze. All eyes on Damian who had blush slowly creeping onto his face. “Marinette has proven herself to be a strong and intelligent ally. She is worthy of my regard.”

           Jason shook his head, “No. You like her, like her.”

“I have come to value her friendship highly,” Damian said but the deepening redness of his face told a different story. He went to elementary school, he knew what like-like meant.

           Dick cooed, “Baby bird has a crush.”

“I do not!” Damian hissed.

           Cass snickered, “It is alright. Marinette is quite lovely.”

           Tim smirked, “And she has rather nice green eyes. A bit dull though.”

“Blue!” Damian corrected quickly. “She has marvelous blue eyes. They are not dull. They shine brighter than the sun. They sparkle when she laughs, you dolt.”

           Silence filled the room. Damian looked horrified at his words. Bruce looked at his young son with raise eyebrows and a small smile on his face.

“I am leaving now, father,” Damian stated. “I will return as soon as the movie ends provided we do not stop for frozen yogurt. Good day.” And then he swiftly left the room, leaving his siblings snickering in his wake.

           Bruce opened back up his book, “I ship it.”

           The declaration caused the room to fill with shouts.

           Marinette would spend half of every summer for the next few years in Gotham; training with Damian under the guidance of Batman himself. Eventually going onto meet the rest of the Justice League. She and Damian used the zeta beams to hang out as much as possible.

The other half of her summers, Marinette spent in New York City at Stark Tower with Peter and the rest of the avengers. Learning under the tutelage of The Black Widow and The Winter Soldier, two out of four of Peter’s godparents (the others being Rhodey and Pepper of course), while Peter learned under his parents.

Damian officially became Robin at 12. Peter became Spider-man at fourteen. And Marinette became Ladybug at 13. It was to no one’s surprise the two boys were the first ones she told about being a superhero. And it was not to her surprise when they couldn’t keep it from their families for long.

“Aww, look you two match,” Tony said upon seeing Marinette transform. “Couples costumes.” The genius would later admit he had that mouth webbing coming. He still ship Peter/Marinette so hard.

           Three weeks later, Bruce had said, “A little bright, isn’t it?”

“Do I even need to mention the first Robin costume?” Marinette snapped back. Though she was secretly glad that as soon as she saw the original Ladybug costume she had Tikki teach her out to change it. Gone was skintight onesie. Now she dressed in a more armored uniform. That was mostly black with bright red polka dots everywhere.

           Bruce smirked. He was proud of the girl who had become his son’s closest friend, and obvious crush. He really hoped his son would ask out Marinette soon.

           Then the Avengers and Justice League found out. Marinette found herself defending Paris with a league member or an Avenger for like six months before she finally told them where to shove it. She would call them if she needed them.  Though she didn’t mind Robin or Spiderman dropping into help every now and then when their secret identities were in town.

           Chat, who had grown become a brother to Marinette once their identities had been revealed to each other, had fanboy’d so hard the first time Robin came to help. And then again when Spiderman appeared, after catching Ladybug in a web after she’d been knocked from the top of the Eiffel tower. Then Marinette had to reveal that she knew the Avengers and the Justice league.

           It took Adrien five seconds with Peter Stark-Rogers to know he had a crush on Marinette. And he cheerfully told Peter, “I’ve got the god of destruction in my pocket. I’ll feed you to him if you hurt her.”

           It took Adrien three days to realize Damian Wayne liked Marinette. And he braced himself, held his ground, and told the teen, “You like Marinette. She’s my sister. I just want you to remember: Cats eat birds.”

           He thought it was really menacing until Damian sprayed him the face with a water bottle, “Bad kitty.”

           Adrien hissed.

           As good as Marinette’s superhero life was going, so was her fashion career. MDC was slowly become well known high-class designer and household name thanks to Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Natasha, and even Lex Luther wearing her clothes.

her normal life had gone in the opposite direction.

           Lila had come to class and lied her way to the top; she went on and on about all the celebrities she knew. She promised all the students great chances and opportunities. Only a few didn’t eat it all up. Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Adrien called out her lies relentlessly. This caused the class to think of them as jealous bullies and had them ostracized to the back at Lila’s subtle behest. Unfortunately for Lila, Adrien had been quick to join them. And nothing she, or anyone else in class, could say to convince the blond boy otherwise.

           Marinette had thought of most of the students as friends but hadn’t been too surprised when they turned against her. She had never been to close to any of apart from the ones who joined her in back. For a while she had considered that maybe Alya would become her best friend but decided against it once she learned just what type of journalist she was. The glasses-wearing girl was always out for the next big scoop and didn’t seem to care how she got it; even if it meant putting herself in danger.

           Alya had also been adamant for a long time that Ladybug and Chat Noir liked each other romantically despite both heroes denying it repeatedly. She only stopped when Chat Noir told Alya that Ladybug was his sister.

           When Lila came, like the rest of the class, Alya ate up her stories and promises of a future at famous newspapers like the Daily Planet or the Gotham Gazette.

           And when Marinette claimed Lila was lying, Alya was the first to accuse Marinette of being jealous. The girl never seemed to get the message that Marinette and Adrien didn’t like each other that way and only thought of each as siblings at best and best friends at worst. Alya didn’t listen or care. Whenever Lila gave a tear-filled eyes saying that Marinette was being oh so mean to her, Alya was the first to defend her new bestie. The rest of the class following suit.

           It didn’t take long for Marinette to be voted out of being class president. This made Fearsome four, as Nathanial had nicknamed them after he and Chloe were given permanent spots as heroes, snickered as Marinette had pulled several string to for the annual class trip; so much for the class staying at Stark Tower with the Avengers or visiting Gotham and staying in luxury hotels. Oh well.

           Once she wasn’t class president, all the little things that Marinette had done in addition to the positon had stopped as well. She stopped planning dances, fundraisers, and birthday parties (mostly because she was never invited to go to anyone’s in classes anymore.) No more free sweets from the bakery for anyone but her three friends. No free commissions. No babysitting. No banner designs. Nothing. Squat. Zero.

           This of course caused anger from the other students in class as they had gotten used to all the free Marinette provided and tasks she did.

           Alya huffed, “You’re just getting back us because we’re not your friends anymore.”

           To which Marinette replied coldly, “Your point being?”

           It was suffice to say when Marinette fifteenth birthday rolled around and Marinette’s mom forced her to give invitations to the entire class, the students were quick to rip up the invitations in front of her face.

           Lila smiled, “Sorry, Marinette. Everyone’s throwing a party for me that day. No one can come.”

“Thank god,” Marinette said to their shock because it was obvious the girl was sincerely relieved. “My mom forced me to invite you, and I had no idea how to politely tell you I didn’t really want you to come.”

           On the day of Marinette’s birthday, Saturday, while the class was enjoying their own party, Marinette just finished setting up a mock carnival with rides, games, and concession booths, and an area for bands to play.  Adrien had even gotten his dad, Nathalie, and Gorilla to come on the threat of shaving his head bald.

Then Marinette’s guests started to arrive. Marinette’s schoolmates, the ones she had started to befriend after being made an outcast in class arrived first; the drama club, the art club, the fashion club, cooking club, and the world Travelers’ club had turned out be made up of some great people.

Adrien, Chloe, and Nathaniel stayed close to Marinette side; each wearing an earpiece.

Jagged Stone in all his rock and roll glory arrived first. Clara Nightingale practically danced her way in. Lois and Clark and the rest of the Kents were a bit more subdued. Though Cat, Nadja, and Lois immediately located rivals and the three could be found gossiping and sharing stories with each other. The same could be said when Style Queen Audrey, Wilhelmina Slater, Gabriel Agreste, and Miranda Priestly. Then it was just a slew of people; from friendly neighbors Marinette grew up with to famous models and actors and chefs.

She immediately greeted Damian with a hug, and thanked him for the perfectly wrapped green present. A second later, Marinette did the same to Peter, and thanked him for the blue present.

The two boys eyed each other.

Marinette looked confused, “Damian I told you about Peter, right? I talked about him all the time. And the same for Damian, Peter.”

“You didn’t mention he was Peter Stark,” Damian stated.

“Peter Stark-Rogers,” Peter corrected. “And you’re Damian Wayne.”

And Marinette finally realized she had forgotten to do one major thing; tell the Avengers and the Justice League that Marinette worked with both of them. Or at the very least Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne who looked ready to bring out the big guns.

Both superhero teams were very much aware of the others superhero identities as the Avengers never hid theirs and Tony hacked into the Watch Tower.

Lex Luther and Oliver Queen, the third and fourth richest men in the world, looked highly amused. While Gabriel looked like Christmas had come early. He had no idea Miss Dupain. He knew allowing Adrien to befriend the girl was smart idea.

The other heroes subtly watched the two for any signs that a fight might break out. Bruce had never forgiven Tony for hacking into the watchtower and uncovering Batman identity.

“Brucie,” Tony grinned and held out his hand. “You’re looking great today. No idea you’d be here. Or that you knew Marinette.”

           Bruce shook his hand a bit too firmly, “Her grandmother is an old family friend. I was at her parents’ wedding. I was at their baby shower. I’ve known Marinette for years.”

“We met Marinette when she was five,” Tony said. “She and Peter met at camp. Aren’t they adorable together,” He nodded to the two.

           Bruce forced a grin on his face, “Not as cute as she and Damian. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they were ten. Wouldn’t be surprised if hear wedding bells in the future.”

“Of course you will,” Tony laughed. “I’m sure Marinette will invite to her and Peter’s wedding.”

           The two glared at each other.

           Their significant others just shook their heads. Selena, aka Catwoman, looked amused. While Steve looked so done with this world.

“As one of Peter’s godfather’s,” Bucky said. “Should I be offering to fight Damian’s godfather?” He joked.

           Clark glared, his eyes turning a bit red, “Anytime you want.”

           Rhodey slapped Bucky on the back, “That’s all you man.” He was not fighting Superman over a case of puppy love.

           Diana looked a bit confused, “Should I engage in mortal combat with Peter’s godmother then?”

           Pepper crossed her arms, feeling last of the extremis still pumping through her blood.

           Natasha’s eyes narrowed, “It’s not required. But I wouldn’t mind a friendly spar or two.”

“You are the Black Widow, yes?” Diana asked. “A most excellent fight it will be then.”

“Where is Shazaam?” Thor’s voice thundered. “I wish for a fight as well.”

           Billy Batson had never been so happy that he wasn’t in his superhero form before. Quietly, he made his way to the Ferris wheel. He was going to avoid the god of thunder for as long as he possibly could.

           The magic users found each and decided to compare their abilities. It didn’t go well. Clint got turned into a frog… again.

           When Fury arrived he eyed the superheroes that were there; avengers, justice league, and the ones (dare devil, Jessica Jones, the Xmen) who were mostly unaffiliated. And briefly wondered if the kid who had hogtied him was planning world domination. He wouldn’t doubt it.

           The rest of the part went really well. Chloe, Adrien, and Nathaniel watched the superheroes in attendance like hawks. And were forced to break up more than one fight, or arm wrestling match that got out of hand. It ended up trending on social media, as various celebrities had posted pictures of themselves at the party. And then suddenly the world was asking wanted to know just Who Marinette Dupain-Cheng was. Marinette took that moment to announce that she was MDC. Which blew up the story even more.

           The only downside was that Peter and Damian seemed to have entered into a competition of some sort, the same with their fathers.

           At the end of the party, when sayings the goodbyes, Marinette swore she distinctly heard, Tony hiss, “Spiderbug forever!”

“Daminette!” Bruce snarled back.

           And she had vocally asked why Bucky was giving Superman wary glances but no one would tell her. Adults were weird.

           Monday came and the entire school, and all of Paris was buzzing about Marinette’s party. When she got to class, she was met with unhappy faces of her ex-friends.

“They wouldn’t let us inside,” Alya was quick to complain the moment the bluenette stepped through the door.

“We even told them we knew you,” Nino frowned. “The Bouncers didn’t believe we were invited.”

           Marinette shrugged as she went to her seat between Adrien and Chloe, “its invitation only. What happened to your invitations?”

           All the students frowned. They had been told the same thing at the door. And had been miserable when they remembered they destroyed the invites. Even Lila had nearly shed real tears when she saw just who she had missed meeting for real.

           Alya crossed her arms, “We tried calling you. But you changed your number! How could you not tell your bestie you changed your number? When did you change your number?”

“When I realized you still had it.” It was a cold response. One that Damien would’ve been proud of. “And I’m not your bestie. We’re not friends, remember? Why did you even try to come to my party, you were too busy last I checked.”

“That’s before we saw how awesome your party was!” Kim said honestly. “Dude who knew you knew so many celebrities.”

“Prince Ali was there!” Rose said excitedly. “I really wanted to see him.”

“Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Lex Luther,” Max whined. “I was so close but so far.”

           That was pretty much how the rest of the morning went, with a side of her ex-friends trying to question Marinette about being MDC and all the celebrities she knew. Marinette didn’t answer a single question.

           Just before the lunch bell rang, there was a knock on the door, “Hello, I’m here to pick up Marinette for lunch,” Damian Wayne smiled charmingly as he walked in. “My father’s waiting.”

           The class gasped. Lila’s mouth dropped.

           A second later Peter Stark-Rogers walked in the classroom, “Marinette, you want to go to lunch,” He said excitedly. “Dad’s waiting outside.”

           Again the class’s mouth dropped.

           Outside of the school, Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark glared at each other.

           Marinette looked confusedly at her friends, “Sorry, I didn’t know you guys wanted to go to lunch. Or that you were still in town.” She told them. “It’s okay, though.” She said brightly. “You can join me and Roy.”

           As if on cue, Roy Queen walked into the classroom, a big smile on his smile, “Hey Mari, you read-Oh shit!” He said upon seeing Robin and Spiderman. The two heroes sent the Red Arrow twin glares.

           Two minutes later both Tony and Bruce’s phones pinged. They opened it and read the texts they got from their sons.

           They looked up, and met each other eyes. “We kill Oliver together,” Tony offered.

“Agreed.”

           The Green Arrow watched through binoculars from a safe distance, “Long Live Roynette!”

[bluejayblueskies]

agape

n. selfless, sacrificial, and unconditional love; love that motivates action, often for the sake or care of others 

Words: 2.3k Relationship: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood Tags: AU - Tea Shop/Bookstore, Fluff, Asexual Jonathan Sims Warnings: internalized acephobia/biphobia (minor,), fear of homo/ace/transphobia (brief, unfounded)

|| Ao3 ||

.

Martin remembers, with crystal clarity, the first time that he saw Jonathan Sims. Martin’s tea shop opens at seven in the morning to accommodate the morning commuter crowd, but they’re really busiest in the afternoon, which is when most people deign to take a break from whatever work they’ve got for the day.

 Jonathan Sims is not most people. At promptly seven, the jingle of the little bell that Tim had hung over the door once as a joke but that had lingered out of sheer practicality had cut through the gentle humming of the kettle, the small one that Martin preferred in the morning as it took no time at all to heat and the small volume of customers generally didn’t warrant the larger, stainless steel water heaters that sat along the back wall. Martin had had a box of loose-leaf English breakfast in his hand as he turned; he remembers the way the bitter smell of the leaves had mingled with the cool blast of winter air that swept through the door, carrying with it the scent of something acrid and ashy.

 Cigarette smoke, his mind helpfully supplied. Then, Martin’s eyes found the man who had entered the shop, his mouth forming the automatic greeting the bell always elicited from him, a well-trained habit that made him feel not dissimilar to Pavlov’s dog.

 “Welcome to Blackwood Blends! What can I get started for you?”

The man—and the likely source of the burnt smell still lingering in the air—startled slightly at the sound of Martin’s voice, like he hadn’t been expecting to be addressed directly. He was wrapped in a comically large scarf, knit from chunky yarn and laced with warm yellow and midnight black, and he looked like the kind of person who might blow away in the wind if he wasn’t careful. His hair, long and brown, was streaked through with grey and seemed to be fighting a losing battle with the hat that was currently struggling to keep it contained. There were at least two jumpers of startlingly different colors peeking out from underneath a heavy black pea coat that was missing a button near the bottom.

 He was also quite possibly the most beautiful person Martin had ever seen.

 He was there and gone before Martin quite knew what was happening, cradling a steaming travel mug of Ceylon close to his chest like it alone could drive away the January chill, and Martin found himself watching him through the café window as he crossed the street with barely more than a cursory glance in each direction, fumbled with something in his pockets for a moment, and finally vanished into the building across the street.

 Beholding Books & Antiquities, the sign above the door said in curling calligraphy, barely visible from this distance.

 Martin wondered, briefly, if they had poetry.

 Martin knows now that they do, but that the man—whose name, he’d learned on the man’s next visit to the tea shop, is Jon—wrinkles his nose when people purchase them like they’ve caused him some great offense. He knows that Jon never gets the same tea twice in a row, and though he’s cycled through every possible blend that Martin’s shop carries, he’s not a fan of herbals and finds himself returning to earthy greens and floral blacks. (Which, unfortunately, includes oolong, which may be the only kind of tea that Martin can’t stand.) He knows that the bookshop opens at ten in the morning (but that Jon never arrives later than eight) and that unlike the surge of afternoon customers Martin’s shop gets, the bookshop receives a steady trickle of local customers and curious tourists throughout the day.

 He knows that Jon smiles like it’s a secret he can’t quite decide if he wants to share and that Jon’s fingers are warm and soft when they brush against Martin’s as he hands Martin his new purchase and that he might be just a little bit in love with Jon.

 He spends quite a lot of time browsing for books nowadays, to Tim and Sasha’s eternal amusement. But he can’t bring himself to mind.

 Now, the nip of winter air is far behind them, and the lovely warmth of June seeps in through the cracks in the windows and in bursts as the door opens and closes. He always gets more business in winter, when the promised warmth of a cup of tea lures customers in from the cold, but it’s steady enough in the summer. And though Martin’s always been a lover of bulky jumpers and drinks that warm you from the inside out and breath that fogs in winter air, he can’t help but love the onset of summer, because it brings with it June and his favorite yearly tradition: Pride month tea blends.

 Martin finishes scrawling the various specialty drinks onto the chalkboard he keeps propped up on the counter, feeling a little burst of pride at the new tea blends he’s selected for this year. He creates them all himself, making little changes from year to year and brewing cup after cup for Tim and Sasha to try until he thinks they must be sick of tasting ten different versions of fruity Earl Greys. It just feels nice, to put a piece of himself into each cup he makes, and beyond that, the shyly excited looks some customers get when they order a certain blend fills him with a warmth that tingles in his veins for hours after.

 It feels nice, to take care of people this way. To let people find themselves in his tea and to share a bit of himself in kind.

 So when the bell jingles and Martin glances up from the blackboard to see Jon standing just inside the doorway, blinking as his eyes adjust to the dimness of the café, the thrum of affection that always overtakes him when he sees Jon is magnified tenfold, accompanied in equal part by a bite of nervousness. Because, he realizes, for all that he and Jon have talked about their jobs and favorites and hobbies and everything in between, they’ve never talked about this.

 Martin’s never been shy about it. His jacket is plastered with rainbow-striped patches, his bag adorned with enamel pins in purple-black-white-greys and in blue-pink-whites. He knows Jon’s seen them. Jon has to have seen them. He’s just… never mentioned it. And Martin gets the brief, terrifying, and completely unfounded worry that it’s because Jon is bothered by it.

 He shakes the thought off as quickly as it had come. No, he knows Jon. He knows that behind the prickly exterior, Jon is kind—so, so kind, and that he cares more about other people than he lets on. With a small, anxious laugh that Martin barely keeps contained beyond a brief exhalation, Martin realizes that he also knows that Jon is possibly also the most oblivious person Martin knows. It’s infinitely more likely that Jon hasn’t noticed—or has noticed and has decided not to say anything—than that Jon is somehow a completely different person than the one Martin’s gotten to know over the past five months.

 “Are you all right?”

 Martin startles so badly that he drops the chalk. It rolls dangerously close to the edge of the counter before a thin-fingered hand captures it mid-motion and holds it out toward Martin, the dusty white stark against his brown skin. Martin takes the chalk with a sheepish smile and says, “Ah, sorry—got a bit, er. Distracted.” Then, in a quasi-professional voice, because he is at work: “What can I get for you, Jon?”

 Jon doesn’t even glance at the menu; Martin’s almost certain that he has it memorized by now. He taps a finger on the counter, and as he thinks, his eyes wander downward, landing on the chalkboard that’s still laid flat against the counter, the bottom left corner slightly smudged. “Are these new blends?” Jon asks, eyes bright and curious. He tilts his head, trying to see the words better, and Martin quickly stands the chalkboard up on its wooden feet and returns it to its spot on the counter so that it’s easier to read.

 Well, no time like the present, I suppose.

 “They’re, ah, my seasonal blends!” Martin says with a smile he hopes doesn’t look as nervous as it feels. “I always do them in June.” He lets out a little, disarming laugh. “My own way of celebrating Pride month, you know?”

 Jon’s eyes are scanning the chalkboard with an intensity that makes Martin shift from one foot to the other at a pace far too quick to be casual, his hands finding the edge of the counter and gripping it like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. He can’t read Jon’s face; there’s something there, just below the surface, but he can’t get a handle on it. It keeps slipping away like wet bar soap when he tries too hard to get a grip on it, and eventually, he just gives up, waiting for Jon to finish with his heartbeat sitting high in his throat.

 Finally, after a period of time that feels just shy of an eternity and certainly too long to have been simply considering the merits of one tea blend over another, Jon looks at Martin with an expression that feels strangely vulnerable. “I… I can’t decide,” he says quietly, like this decision carries the weight of the entire world. He points a thin finger at the middle of the board, where bisexual berry is scrawled in spiraling letters that constitute Martin’s attempt at calligraphy. It’s an herbal blend, with bits of freeze-dried blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries. “I like most of this blend,” he says, “but er. Not on its own?” His finger moves down, nearly smudging the words asexual almond as it comes to rest atop the ingredients below them—Assam tea, almond flavoring, cinnamon sticks, and little white blossoms that Martin includes purely for the visual effect. “Some people think that black tea wouldn’t go well with herbal,” Jon says, studying the board like it has the secret to life itself scrawled upon the dusty black, “but they’re really not that different at all. It’s all tea, and- and liking one kind of tea doesn’t preclude you from liking another kind, right? So asking me to- to decide between one kind of tea and another is—well, it’s just ridiculous. There’s tea that I like and tea that I don’t and I don’t have to pick just one.”

 Jon’s still staring at the blackboard, his forehead creased in what could be concentration but could also be irritation. It’s still early enough that the tea shop is empty save for them; Tim and Sasha don’t come in until after noon as usually, Martin can handle the morning crowds by himself. And Martin is really quite sure that this isn’t about his tea at all. So, in the gentlest tone he can muster, Martin says, “You can order more than one kind of tea, you know.”

 Jon jerks his hand back, almost like he’d forgotten Martin was there. “I—what?”

 Feeling significantly less nervous than before, Martin adjusts the sign so that he can see it better and says, “These are all just suggestions, Jon. Blends that I like and ones that I’ve found that other people like too, but they’re not set in stone—people have all kinds of preferences, and when it comes down to it, it- it’s all just tea.” Then, because apparently he’s feeling bold today: “I- I can make a new blend if you’d like? One that, er.” Just say it, Martin. “One that’s for you, specifically. Whatever you’d like.”

 Jon’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he stares up at Martin, and Martin can’t help but shift nervously under his gaze. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that, that was weird, what a weird thing to say when someone’s coming out to you with bad tea metaphors, fuck fuck—

 “If- if you’d like,” Jon says quietly, slamming Martin’s thought spiral headfirst into a brick wall and nearly knocking him off his feet as he registers that Jon just said yes. “I’d like that. Though I- I do enjoy the flavors of berries and almonds together.” He smiles then, a wry thing that sends Martin’s pulse into the stratosphere and his stomach aflutter with butterflies whose wings gleam an iridescent rainbow against the backs of his eyes. (Not his best bit of poetic imagery, to be true, but he’s a little too busy being utterly in love with Jonathan Sims to think about much else.)

 Martin makes the tea, choosing the black over the herbal because elaborate metaphor or not, Jon really isn’t a fan of herbal teas. Blueberry is a strong enough taste to pair with the bitterness of the black tea and it couples well with almond and cinnamon, creating a flavor profile not unlike that of a blueberry muffin. And because Martin can’t help but think of Jon every time he smells it, he switches out the Assam for a Lapsang Souchong and Earl Grey blend—smoky and floral, smooth enough that it won’t overbalance the other flavors but robust enough to stand out.

 When Jon accepts the mug and takes his first hesitant sip, his face lights up in a way that Martin wants to see all day, every day for the rest of his life. And when Jon smiles at him, says, achingly soft, “Thank you, Martin. I love it,” and cautiously, gently places his hand over Martin’s where it sits on the counter, Martin thinks, for the first time, that maybe he can.

 Wouldn’t that be nice, he thinks. And the smile he gives Jon in return feels like a blank-paged book, waiting to be filled.