#let's also ignore the fact his hair got grey here for some reason

[humbuns]

do u still draw for obm ..? can I ask a tiny barbatos pls,,

wonder what's the more pressing thing to ask, the blood or there being a photograph before it was invented lmao

[softyoongiionly]

Power Trip

You and Jungkook make a bet to see who can last the longest in bed. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

Warnings: explicit smut, oral (f receiving), spit, swearing, fingering, Jungkook

A/N: If I ever tell you I don’t have a bias wrecker, call me a liar. Also this one is for @bulletproofbirdy​, I hope Jungkook can lift your spirits. I love you so much! also, this unedited cause im the worst :D This can be read in the same universe as my fic Press Start btw! 

He smirks, “You really wanna go there?”

You shrug, “I’m just saying- I know I can last longer than you can, that’s all.”

At this, his brows raise as a short and unimpressed laugh leaves his lips, “What led you to that conclusion?”

From the opposite end of the couch, you feel him staring at you. His competitive nature is simple minded and easily baited into situations where it’s able to prove itself; Jungkook simply cannot resist a challenge.

“I mean-” You bite your lip, “You are usually begging me to cum at some point...”

His smirk only broadens, “Oh? And you think I do that for my benefit?”

Oh.  

Staring into his eyes, the two of you regard one another for a moment, sexual tension floating aimlessly in the air above you.  

“I want you to consider the fact that you’re looking your fiancé in the eye and, telling her that you’re faking something in bed...”

Jungkook finally laughs at that, his head falling back on his shoulders momentarily, “Whoa whoa whoa- I never said I was faking it, I just said I wasn’t doing it for my benefit. I beg you to cum because, I know you like it- not because I can’t control myself.”

“Oh so it isn’t that you’re faking it- it's just not as good as you make it out to be...” You clarify, voice loaded with sarcasm, “That’s so much better.”

Jungkook clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth, “You know that isn’t what I'm saying...”

You cross your arms, trying your best not to notice how good your fiancé looks lit up by candlelight, “No actually, I don’t know that.”

He knows he needs to choose his next words carefully because, this conversation can go one of two ways. One, the two of you spend an undetermined amount of time tangled up in one another and two, he ends up in the doghouse.

“Well you should-” He insists, “Because I don’t lie. I’ve told you that you’re the best I’ve ever had and, I meant that. All I’m saying is that I can make you cum first- and that has nothing to do with how good you are. It's just how bad I want to make you cum...”

You feel your lips twitch, “Even if that very convenient explanation were true- it doesn’t change the fact that I can last longer than you...”

Jungkook chuckles finally and the sound of it sends a shiver up your spine. He jerks his chin towards you, “You wanna bet?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip as you feel your heartbeat increase slightly, “What are your terms?”

He shrugs but his palms are already itching with the desire to touch you, “Who ever cums first loses...”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, nudging your foot against his leg, “Yeah I got that part but, how are we going to do this?

Again he shrugs but this time the smirk creeps back onto his mouth, “Oh well- if you’re asking that, this really isn’t going to be a fair fight...���

He’s such a little shit.  

Your lips part with shock whilst your eyes blink owlishly at him before you decide that you’ve had enough of his attitude.  Flipping the covers over your head, you work your way across the couch until you’re positioned between Jungkook’s legs. He snickers when you maneuver the covers over your head, doing his best to assist you until you’re finally free from the endless swath of blankets.  

“H-” Jungkook opens his mouth to make another comment but, your lips stop him from doing so.  

You’re irritated with his goading but, you know that you can’t just start roughly making out with him in order to turn him on; you have to take things slowly.

Situated atop the seam of his grey sweatpants, you press your hips down carefully whilst you kiss him. He’s lost in your mouth the moment he feels it, his fingers coming up to brush over the apples of your cheeks. They encase your face moments later and, you make a conscious effort to ignore how good this is. He tastes like the sweet mint mouthwash he uses but, the rest of him smells like amber and vanilla.  

Outdoing Jungkook is so much easier said than done.

But what you don’t know is that he isn’t fairing much better.  

The softness of your lips and the tiniest instabilities in your breath are going straight to his dick. His hands find themselves sliding at a snail-like pace up the backs of your thighs and, god he can’t help himself as he grips at the flesh there. He always says he would die happily in between your thighs and even though you laugh, he’s dead serious. They are so perfect.

Deep in the trenches of his muscular chest, he groans when you grind against him. His breath coming out much shakier through his nose before he finally pulls away,

“Bedroom?”

You hum, pecking his at his mouth again, “What about it?”

Jungkook smacks your ass suddenly and just as you yelp, he’s recapturing your lips all over again. Only this time, he starts leaning you backwards towards the couch and it’s many blankets.  

“Do you want it here?” He breathes, “There isn’t a lot of room...”

He’s right.  

The couch is good for cuddling and making out but, actual sex is usually out of the question- especially when it’s so cold in your house.

Moments later, Jungkook is throwing the massive pile of blankets onto your bed and, just as he’s about to climb up there, you stop him by cupping his face in your hands. Your grip is gentle and your lips follow suit, plucking against his minty mouth. In the midst of kissing him, you reach behind his head, feeling around for the scrunchie holding up his mane of hair. Once you locate it, you carefully pull back until his pretty face is curtained with ebony tendrils.  

He doesn’t question your decision. In fact, there isn’t much Jungkook would question right now. His attention is on you and, your deadly assault on his composure. When he feels your fingers tuck into his hair, he realizes he’s beginning to forget the reason why he needs his composure in the first place.

“You’re so handsome,” You whisper, “like a prince...”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at your comment whilst his hands reach out to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against him. His palms travel up your back, cursing the thick fabric of your hoodie for being in the way. He knows it’s practical but, he doesn’t care. He wants to touch you.  

“I’m cold-” You pout into his mouth, “Can we get in bed?”

He returns your pout and nudges your nose before reluctantly removing his hands from your back, “Yeah...let’s go.”

Jungkook unturns the winter duvet you have on your bed and, lays the pillows down flat, gesturing to the empty space which then causes you to shoot him an apprehensive look,  

“It’s going to be so cold.” You whine and the sound if it forces Jungkook’s lips into a fond smile- completely against his will.  

“I’ll get in first-” He assures you and just before he flops onto the sheets, he yanks his hoodie and t-shirt over his head. The presence of his body alone is a defeat to all other men you’ve been with. The tan skin, the tattoos, the softness of him reminding you that he is a walking example of duality...

It’s a lot.  

But you have to stay focused and, when he settles onto the mattress and pats the empty space beside him, you waste no time in returning to your earlier mission.  

“C’mere...” He mumbles once you’re beside him, his voice deep with arousal.

The two of you resume your kiss and, this time there is a bit more urgency in the way he moves against you. He nudges your nose as he introduces his tongue into your mouth. Pulling away slightly, he continues moving his tongue along the length of yours until the two of you are properly French kissing one another.  

It’s sloppier than his usual style but, you aren’t complaining; he tastes amazing. And the way he’s licking into your mouth reminds you of what his mouth feels like when it’s elsewhere-

“I used to see people in porn kiss like this-” He whispers, “I never understood the appeal of sucking on someone’s tongue until I met you...” With his admission, he does just that, taking the tip of your muscle between his lips.

Mouth open around the entirety of his, you grip his biceps as he continues to suck on your tongue. If it were anyone else, this would feel awkward and sloppy but with Jungkook, it’s so unbelievably hot. He’s working his way over you until his tattooed arms are settled on either side of your head. Rolling his body downward, he presses his hardening dick right against the seam of your leggings. He pulls off of your tongue then and resumes kissing you normally, his lips are wetter and there’s so much spit involved in this kiss but, you couldn’t care less.  

You wanted all of him.  

Jungkook uses the strength and control he has over his body to grind against your aching core with precision, the curve of his dick sliding sinfully onto your neglected clit. Even as the pleasure begins to drown out the logical side of your brain, you desperately try to remind yourself that you are still in the middle of a bet.  

“You feel so good-” You make sure to play up the whimper that leaves your lips whilst your nails begin at his wrists and slowly drag up the bulging muscles on his arms.

His dick twitches in his sweatpants and, you take that as an opportunity to wrap your legs around his hips. The strength of his arms gives out then as he opts to rest on his elbows instead. He’s still kissing you but now the two of you are grinding against one another as if you were fucking.  

“Yeah?” He smirks against your mouth, “Good enough to cum on me?”

His attitude returns causing you to dig your nails into arms. You pull away from his mouth and shoot him a look of determination, “In your dreams...”

He snickers, sounding rather cute for a man who is literally throbbing between your legs. He licks his lips as he stares down at you for a moment, cocking his head to the side, “My dreams...” He clarifies before kissing his teeth, “I guess you’re right ah? If this were a dream of mine, you would have already came all over my tongue...”

His words make you bite your lip, your hips involuntarily curving up towards his. He snickers again, leaning away when you try to reconnect your lips, “You always tell me to go for my dreams though, don’t you baby?”

At the moment, Jungkook’s voice would be unrecognizable to anyone else but, you. It’s so deep and raspy and, only thickens as he gets more and more turned on.  

“I will cum on your tongue,” You murmur suddenly, pecking his lips, “after you cum inside of me.”

This time, it’s Jungkook who retaliates with movement, his hips rolling down at a sinful depth, causing your clit to throb with anticipation.  

He lets out a breathe from between his lips whilst he shakes his head, his dark eyes flitting down to where you’re connected before returning to your face.

“It’s so much better when I cum in you after I’ve eaten you out though-” He insists with a pout that would look innocent if this were any other scenario, “If you hold it after what I’m about to do to you, then I’ll let you have a turn with me- sound good?”

He’s so fucking cocky sometimes, it makes you want to scream. However, this wouldn’t be much of a bet if the two of you just had sex; you know that you’d have to let him touch you properly at some point, even if it would be devastating to your odds of winning.  

“You’re going to cheat- I can literally feel it in my bones...”

Jungkook chuckles and slowly begins his descent down towards the ache between your legs. When he gets to your stomach, he carefully peels up your hoodie to expose the band of your leggings. He kisses along the skin there with gentle and unhurried movements, licking once just below your belly button and smirking as he hears the giggle that tumbles from your lips. Sitting up slightly, you watch as he hooks his fingers underneath the black fabric and peels it back until he’s working it down your legs. Jungkook knows that you don’t wear underwear with these pants, especially not around the house- but it doesn’t stop him from biting his lip at the sight of your bare pussy anyway.  

Jungkook gently pries your legs apart and, you find yourself biting your lip when the cold air from the bedroom weaves its way onto your swollen, wet folds. You already want to tell him to stop- not because you don’t want it but, because you are severely doubting your ability to last.  

That doubt only increases when Jungkook settles onto his stomach and positions his mouth at the apex of your right knee, “You really do have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen...” He says this as he starts sponging his lips up your inner thigh, his eyes looking straight up at you, “Did you know that?”

With your breath increasing, you do your best to remain calm as he nears your lips but, it’s so hard when he’s intentionally saying all the things you want to hear.

But two can play at that game...

“You think so? I try to keep it all pretty for you...” The tone of your voice takes him off guard a little bit but, he isn’t complaining.  

He secretly relishes in the moments that you’re soft towards him; so much of your relationship is banter and, constantly trying to get on eachothers nerves.  

Jungkooks starts at the other knee then, kissing his way back down towards your center, “You don’t ever-” He bites down and then pulls back, “ever, have to try to be pretty jagi. You just are.”

The sensation of his teeth causes you to jump, your movements coaxing a chuckle from Jungkook’s throat.

He kisses his teeth, “Easy.” He teases with a smirk, his mouth finally hovering of your pussy.  

“Sorry-” You murmur coyly, licking your lips, “I just want your mouth so bad.”

Jungkook is about to lick up the length of you but, he stops at your confession and kisses the top of your pussy instead, “You do huh?”

It’s not really like you to plead for him as usually things are quite playful in the bedroom and, as you mentioned earlier: it’s usually him who’s begging.  

Nodding, you reach down for his fingers, lacing them with your own as you dial up the sweetness in your tone to 100%, “Please? Can I have it? I’m so wet for you Jungkook- it hurts...”

The moisture leaves his mouth when you say his name. He’s never heard you quite like this before and, it’s driving him crazy.  

He wants to give you everything.

“Whatever you want baby- I'm right here...” He mumbles against your skin, kissing the top of your cunt once more before shooting a somewhat intense glance your way, “...and I’ll make sure you give me what I want in return.”

With that, he licks up the length of you, collecting all of your arousal in middle of his tongue before drinking you in as best as he can. The feeling of his mouth finally meeting your cunt is enough to make your hips jerk from the bed. He takes that as a sign to wrap his inked arms around your body to hold you in place as he gets to work on you.  

He uses the tip of his tongue to gather as much of your wetness as possible, groaning ever so softly when the taste of you graces his tastebuds. His hands are resting on your stomach but, he uses his thumbs to pull your pussy taut so he has better access. Your clit is amply exposed now allowing him to tease his languid muscle against it, the sensations making you dizzy.  

You can feel your nipples hardening to the point of discomfort when he suckles the sensitive bud into his mouth. He only does it for a second before settling for laving his tongue up and down your clit. Breathing heavily, you tug up your hoodie to expose the rest of your upper half, your hands going straight for your neglected nipples.  

“Fuck-”  

You hear him curse and look down just in time to see that although his mouth is busy working on your pussy, his eyes are locked onto you.  

And you take advantage of that, pinching your nipples you say, “Your tongue feels so good, no-” You let your breath catch on the end of the sentence, “nobody does it like you Jungkook...”

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment and, he looks like he’s like he’s in pain. But suddenly, he moves hands from your stomach and, grips the outside of your thighs- pulling your legs apart and pushing them up. With your knees up in the air and your pussy spread completely open, Jungkook quickens the pace of his tongue on your clit. Licking over it with a consistent pace that your fiancé knows all too well, you feel the pit of your stomach begin to grow in preparation for your orgasm.  

You need to act fast...

Letting out the tiniest whimper, you reach down towards his hand again and grip onto one of his fingers, “Can I have your fingers please? I need you to fuck me so bad baby- please? I’m so close...”

Jungkook’s eyes are blackened with pure lust, his lips still kissing and licking at your clit as he moves his hand, somewhat hesitantly towards your dripping cunt. He looks so torn but, you can’t completely figure out why, but you have a feeling.  

He licks your clit once more as he lines his index finger up at your entrance. You can see how wet his mouth has become when he pulls away slightly to watch his digit disappear inside of you. Immediately, your pussy clenches around his finger, sucking it in with desperation. Jungkook groans as his eyes squeeze shut again but, he manages to return his lips to your clit, resuming his earlier motions.  

The pleasure from by his dual movements is causing your entire body to ache with need. You don’t think you can hold back your orgasm much longer, not with his finger quickening it’s pace inside you. Surrender is on the horizon; if you aren’t going to win this bet- you may as well just enjoy yourself.  

“Can you fuck me faster Jungkook?” You moan, licking your lips and rubbing your fingertips over your nipples, “You’re making me feel so good...you’re so strong.”

And faster he goes but, he only maintains the pace long enough for you to whimper one more time before he suddenly pulls away. The loss of contact shocks and disappoints and, you’re about to protest until you notice what’s going on.  

Jungkook is sat back on his knees, lips wet with your arousal, nipple hardened with his own and, grey sweatpants stained with precum. He’s taking a deep breath through his nose, his hair hanging in his face whilst he looks down towards his dick.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You murmur, sitting up.  

The promise of an orgasm is slowly fading but, the concern flooding your mind distracts you easily.  

He shakes his head, “No no- I'm good. I just uh-”  

Jungkook’s hand moves quickly, cupping over his dick and prompting another deep but shaky breath from his chest.  

And then it clicks...

“Wait-” A grin spreads across your lips, “Were you about to cum?”

“No.”  

But he won’t look up at you, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he presses his hand down even harder.  

“Jungkook-” You get up on your knees, your chest blooming with pride as you crawl across the bed towards him, “Were you about to cum?”

When you ask him again, there is a bit of laughter at the end of your sentence that causes him to shoot a glare your way.

“You were cheating...”

A sharp giggle leaves your throat, “I was cheating??? The bet was to see who could last longer and, you literally just pulled away before you were going to cum.”

Jungkook smirks, “You were fucking cheating.” He insists, “With that fucking voice of yours and your hands all over your tits; don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

He doesn’t swear often but when he does, it always gets to you. His voice his so husky now and that paired with the rest of his visuals is enough to force you into your next move.  

Suddenly, you grip his chin and angle his upwards, “Admit that you were going to cum.”

His eyes widen then, that familiar doe eyed look infecting his gaze; it’s the same look he always gives you when you take charge.  

But as much as he loves to submit to you, he almost hates losing more.

Almost.  

“No...”

Your teeth find your lip again as you smirk, your other hand sliding down his flushed chest towards his throbbing cock, “Admit that you were going to cum baby, so we can put you out of your misery...”

He shakes his head and although his hand twitches at his side, he makes no move to stop you, “I wasn’t, I was just-”

You cock your head, your hand tucking beneath the band of his sweats, “You were just what?”  

As he feels your hand encase his dick he crumbles, his whole body slumping forward, “Fuck-”

His forehead is on your shoulder now, his stomach caving in as you begin stroking his cock. You can feel how hard he is now, his length jumping in your hand, the tip of him covered in precum...

Your lips are at his ear whilst he bears his teeth, “Admit that you were going to cum sweetheart- and then I’ll let you put it inside me...”

“No-” He growls, “You were cheating, I- ugh...” He whimpers, his teeth sinking into the ball of your shoulder when you quicken your pace on him.  

You giggle, turning your head to the side so your lips are at his ear, “What a shame- you're going to waste all of this cum on your pants when you could be pumping it inside of me...”

Jungkook groans, his teeth nipping at your shoulder once more, “Let me cum inside of you please- wanna fuck you so bad...”

You’re focusing your hand on the tip of his cock, massaging it within your grip and, at this point- Jungkook is leaking so much precum, you aren’t sure if he managed to sneak in his orgasm without notice.  

“You can fuck me when you admit that I won.” You nibble on his ear, “That’s all you have to do baby- then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“But I wasn’t going to cum-” He still insists, his voice more of a whine now his hands desperately going for your hips.

Pouting your lips, you increase your pace on him for the final time, the sound of you jerking him off filling the room, “Well you definitely are now, aren’t you?”

“Fucking- fuck me...” He moans, his nails digging into your sides whilst his hips jerk up against your hand, “Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum...”

The admission is involuntarily as he paints your hand and the inside of his sweatpants with the his hot release, cumming all over himself.  

“Mm there it is- that wasn’t so hard was it?” You tease with a bit of laughter as you stroke him through his release.  

He lets out a shaky breath, moaning again as the rest of it comes out but, before you’re even able to process what’s happening, his using the grip he has on your hips to shove you back against the bed. Your back hits the sheets as your eyes widen and despite his sweatpants being stained and his dick throbbing with sensitivity, Jungkook is prying your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance.

“Ju-” You begin but he cuts you off as he pushes inside of you. The thickness of him is so perfect and your pussy swallows him whole, unable to get enough. Through your efforts to tease him you had forgotten how close he had gotten you but, he was about to remind you exactly what he was capable of.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth-” He growls, his eyes piercing into yours, his swollen lips curved into a smirk, “Unless it’s please,” He thrusts, causing a whimper to leave your lips, “Thank you,” Thrust, “Or Jungkook...”

His pace is fast but it’s completely perfect and, it isn’t long until your orgasm comes crashing into your body, the pleasure peaking as he fucks you harder.  

“J- Jungkook- Oh god....” You moan, reaching down to rub at your clit, which only spurs you on further, “Oh my god...”

He chuckles darkly through bared teeth, his sweaty tendrils of hair jerking back and forth with his motions, “I guess I’ll settle for god too...”

Leaning down, he hovers over you as you continue to cum and despite the smirk on his face, he presses his lips to yours sweetly- kissing you through the rest of your orgasm.

He lets up the intensity inside of you, for both your sake and his, slowly allowing his hips to come to a stop. With destroyed breathing patterns, the two of you kiss each other for a while longer until he makes the painful decision to pull out of you. Still kissing at your lips, he slumps over beside you, blindly pulling at the duvet to cover your shivering bodies.

“I love you.” He chuckles boyishly, completely giddy from your encounter.

The sound of his laughter makes you smile into the kiss, “I love you too.”

He brings you closer to him so that he can hold you, his lips moving to press against different parts of your face.  

Laying on his chest, you feel content as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

After a few moment of post orgasmic bliss,  Jungkook whispers,

“ Jagi?” He mumbles to which you respond by humming, “I was definitely about to cum...”

[badassbuchanan]

Secrets and Spies

Request: Could you write something where the reader and bucky have been seeing eachother for a while but no one from the team knows. But they know something is different with bucky so they follow him one night to the readers place and kinda catch them in the act? I don't know if that makes sense

Warnings: smut; shower sex, loud sex, unprotected sex, swearing and some really bad writing skills on my part!

a/n: my first request, yay! I hope it came out okay! it’s different to the writings i’ve done before - I hope it makes sense

also I'm sorry if you didn't want this to be smutty but my thirsty ass brain took the ‘catch them in the act’ part a little too literally. I'm just a whore for bucky let’s face it. 

“You coming to the game with us next week, Buck?” The blonde haired Captain asked his childhood friend as he stood with him and Sam in the kitchen.

“Hm?” The long haired winter soldier looked up from his phone which had previously captured all of his attention.

“The baseball game,” Sam frowned at Bucky suspiciously, crossing his arms as he leaned his back against the kitchen worktop. “The one we talked about last week.”

“Oh,” Bucky raised his eyebrows and nodded, lifting his metal hand to scratch the back of his head. “Uh yeah,” he looked back down at his phone which was now buzzing in his hand. “Um, I’ll be there.”

As soon as the words left his mouth Bucky was out the door, lifting his phone to his ear as he softly answered “hello.”

Sam and Steve turned to look at each other with a puzzled look on their faces.

“You know he’s been acting weird right? Even for him.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Steve who rolled his eyes softly, leaning his hands on the counter.

“He’s probably just stressed or something.” Steve dismissed Bucky’s recent behaviour, but even he’d noticed how distant and odd his oldest friend had been acting.

“Steve, I know you always want to see the best in him.” Sam’s voice dropped an octave in seriousness, mirroring Steve’s stance from across the kitchen bench. “But don’t forget what he’s capable of.”

“No, that wasn’t him. That was Hydra.” Steve defended Bucky, hitting his palm against the worktop before lifting it to rub his jaw anxiously. Sam’s words were making him worry.

“Okay, so what if Hydra, starts controlling his mind again?” Sam spoke softly, understanding what the weight of his words were doing to Steve. “Regardless, that doesn’t excuse his sneaking around, all the secret conversations, the frequent disappearing, or the fact that he is constantly distracted.”

“Oh, so it’s not just me who thinks Mr.Bionic is acting like more of a weirdo than usual?” Tony waltzed into the room, removing his sunglasses as he did so.

Steve shot Tony a warning glance but nodded his head anyway. Bucky had been acting strange for a while, it started off with small things, but now he was hardly ever around. And when he was, his mind was distant. Everything Sam said was true and Steve could only ignore it for so long.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y informed me he’s arranged to meet someone tonight.” Tony added, shoving a handful of almonds in his mouth as he did so. “You might wanna keep a close eye on him.” He more instructed than suggested, shrugging his shoulders before leaving the room to answer his ringing phone.

Steve loved Bucky. He believed in Bucky. But he couldn’t deny the small amount of constant doubt that lived in his mind. What if Hydra was still dormant in Bucky’s brain, controlling him with such a subtlety that no one would notice?

Steve let out a sigh, running his hand through his pushed back blonde hair. He was torn between trusting his childhood friend and doing his job as an Avenger to protect the world from potential threats. “Just let me talk to him.”

Sam nodded understandingly as the kettle clicked, signalling the water was done boiling just as he turned his back to grab a mug from the cupboard.

—Bucky’s POV —

“The baseball game,” Sam frowned at Bucky suspiciously, crossing his arms as he leaned his back against the kitchen worktop. “The one we talked about last week.”

“Oh,” Bucky raised his eyebrows and nodded, lifting his metal hand to scratch the back of his head. “Uh yeah,” he looked back down at his phone which was now buzzing in his hand, Y/N’s unsaved number flashing on the screen. “Um, I’ll be there.”

As soon as the words left his mouth Bucky was out the door, lifting his phone to his ear as he softly answered “hello.”

“Hey mister,” The sweet voice cooed through the phone, a bashful smile appearing on Bucky’s face as he leaned against the wall. “You coming over soon? My housemate’s gone out for the night.”

“Yeah, just finished working out with the guys. I’ll have a shower and then make my way to you.” Bucky fiddled with the drawstring of his grey track pants absentmindedly as he spoke.

“Or you could have a shower here,” Y/N spoke in a suggestive tone. Bucky living at the compound and Y/N’s housemate almost always home meant they never got much alone time without having to worry about Y/N’s housemate hearing what they were up to. “We could even have one together.”

Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his head, her words catching him by surprise as he pushed himself off of the wall to stand up straight. “I’ll be there soon.”

Y/N chuckled at Bucky’s attempt to try and keep his cool, her heart skipping a beat at his excitement. “Okay, see you soon.”

“Okay.” Bucky breathed through a bashful smile. turning quickly to walk back down the hallway.

— Sam and Steve‘s POV —

Bucky walked back into the room in a slight rush.

“Hey, Buck. We need to talk.” Steve looked Bucky up and down, analysing his body language to test his reaction. No matter how busy he was, Bucky always made time for Steve and vice versa. They were always there for each other.

“Yeah buddy, later. I have to go.” Bucky turned to reply to Steve quickly before walking down the stairs out of sight.

Sam turned around to face Steve, mug in hand as he chuckled. He shook his head, looking up at Cap who was frowning in both confusion and concern.

“Okay, we need to find out what’s going on with him.” Steve crosses his arms, biting the inside of his lip as he racked his brain for any and every possible solution to reason Bucky’s behaviour.

— Bucky’s POV —

“C’mon Buck, we still have to cook it.” Y/N giggled softly as she watched her boyfriend dig his finger into the raw brownie batter they’d just finished mixing.

Bucky lifted the chocolate covered finger towards his mouth, licking off the mixture as he shrugged. “Taste good enough to me.” He smiled cheekily, using his metal arm to pull Y/N against his chest.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands playing with his hair as she admired his handsome face. Bucky leaned down to press his lips against hers, the sweet taste of chocolate enticing her in.

She moaned against him, tilting her head as Bucky let his tongue run teasingly over her lips. “How about that shower, hm?” She mumbled against his lips, feeling the kiss heating up fast.

Bucky moaned with a nod, feeling his cock stirring beneath his sweatpants. Y/N made a quick move to turn away from him, putting the brownie mixture in the oven.

He couldn’t help but watch her ass as she bent down, the workout leggings she wore left nothing to the imagination. He bravely moved forward, his hand slapping her ass cheekily as she quickly stood back up.

“Hey!” She shot Bucky a glare, smiling at the same time after she made sure to set the timer on the oven. “Save it for the shower.”

Bucky chuckled in amusement as he followed her down the hallway of her house which he’d become so familiar with. He didn’t go many places outside of the compound, and Y/N’s house felt like his special little hideaway from everything and everyone.

Y/N adjusted the temperature of the shower before removing her clothes, turning around to face Bucky as she did so.

Bucky couldn’t help but get distracted as she undressed, watching her every move. She walked towards him when she was left only in her panties, running her hand over his stomach.

“Need some help?” She offered, looking up at him innocently as she tugged on the tie of his sweatpants.

Bucky clenched his jaw as he looked down at her perky tits, nipples hardened in the cold air. His cock twitched at the sight of her bare skin, his metal hand reaching out to palm her breasts.

Y/N reached her hand inside his sweatpants, grabbing hold of his cock as her mouth dropped opened in shock. “Already so hard, Buck.” She smiled widely, slowly pumping his hard member in her hand.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, his hips bucking into her hand as he tugged on her nipple. Y/N felt her arousal dripping onto her underwear from the thought of his cock inside of her.

“Baby stop or I’ll cum.” Bucky grunted, his face screwing up as he grabbed hold of her hand with his flesh one, his metal hand still full of her boobs.

“I don’t want you to cum until you’re inside me.” Y/N spoke against his lips, giving his cock one last squeeze as she felt her pussy start to ache in need.

Bucky’s cock throbbed at her words, his eyes drawn to watch her pull his track pants down his legs. She tugged his underwear down with them, admiring the way his hard length bounced to slap up against his stomach.

Y/N bit her lip, her hands running up his thick thighs and over his abs, pulling his t-shirt up as she went. Bucky helped her out, lifting the material over his head, leaving him completely naked.

Y/N pushed her chest flush against his, leaning up to kiss him teasingly. Bucky felt her hard nipples rub against his bare chest, her soft skin felt so good against his as he held her waist.

She gave him an open mouth kiss before turning around in his arms, still pressed against his body as Bucky’s cock rubbed over her ass.

“Take them off for me, Buck.” She said softly, guiding his hands to the waist band of her panties.

Bucky complied with her request, pulling them down to her knees before she bent over in front of him to take them off the rest of the way, causing his cock to nudge between her bare ass cheeks.

Bucky groaned at the feeling of his tip in her wetness, quickly pulling her hips tightly against him as he refrained from shoving his cock inside of her.

She smiled cheekily, knowing exactly what she was doing to him as she ground her ass against him, his cock saturated in her juices.

Bucky grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to stand back up, his chest flush against her back. He kissed up her neck, his metal hand sliding down between her thighs to rub her folds, immediately saturated in her slick.

“If you want me to fuck you like that, doll, all you have to do is ask.”

“Bucky!” She giggled softly, almost becoming shy at his filthy words. It was still something she was getting used to, Bucky was her first boyfriend.

He chuckled at her response, spinning her around in his arms to face him. He lifted his flesh hand to cup her cheek, pressing his lips against hers.

Y/N immediately kissed him back, relaxing into his touch as Bucky’s hands slid down to the back of her thighs.

His tongue pushed into her mouth the same time as he lifted her off of the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist as she let out a satisfied moan.

Y/N hugged his neck to hold her up, his thick length laying flush between her folds. She whimpered into his mouth, rubbing her hips forward slightly as Bucky walked them into the shower.

The heat of the water hit them immediately, warming their bodies as Bucky pressed Y/N’s back against the tiled shower wall.

“So gorgeous.” Bucky grunted softly, pecking her lips as he pushed his hips forward. Y/N’s pussy started to ache with a dull emptiness, his cock against her folds wasn’t enough to satisfy her. “I love you so much.”

She smiled into the kiss, tugging on his now dampened hair. “I love you, Bucky.” She looked up into his bright eyes, admiring his beauty as Bucky moved his flesh hand down between their bodies.

He grabbed hold of his cock, lining the tip up with Y/N’s entrance. The intense feeling caused her head to drop against his chest, kissing up the skin where his flesh fused with the metal.

Bucky’s heart fluttered at her touch, still so thankful to have found someone who loved and accepted him for him. It was something that he never thought would happen.

“Baby, please move.” Y/N moaned as her pussy clenched around his tip, causing Bucky to snap back to reality from his thoughts. He pushed his entire length inside her slowly, the tightness of her walls constricting him.

Y/N moaned again when he was fully inside of her, her nails digging into the flexed muscles of his back. Bucky stilled inside of her, knowing she’d need a moment for the stretching pain to subside.

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N panted out in pleasure, her throbbing pussy hungry for more. Bucky bent his head to kiss a line from her collar bone to the underside of her jaw.

He began thrusting his hips slowly, allowing her pussy to adjust to his size. “You don’t have to keep quiet baby,” Bucky moaned into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “We’ve got the house to ourselves remember?” He picked up his pace a little, his fingers digging into her ass so hard she’d definitely have bruised tomorrow. “Let me hear you.”

Y/N’s head fell back against the shower wall, her eyes closing as she let her moans flow freely. Her thighs clamped around his waist, trying to pull him closer as he fucked into her.

Her pussy clenched around his length, the slapping sound of his balls hitting her wet skin filled the room. It only turned Y/N on even more, that and the fact that they didn’t have to keep quiet for once.

“Bucky.” She moaned out his name shamelessly, arching her back which caused their chests to press together.

Water ran over their bodies as Bucky picked up his pace, already feeling his climax approaching as he listened to her moan his name.

Y/N kept up the volume, knowing it was driving her boyfriend crazy. Bucky stepped towards her, practically squashing her against the tiles.

The new position caused his pelvis to rub against her throbbing clit with every thrust. Y/N felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach, the pulsing of her clit making her toes curl.

She moaned breathlessly between thrusts, his pace quickening as she tugged on his hair.

“Oh fuck.” Bucky moaned, his head dropping back as he chased his high, fucking into her fast and hard.

Her pussy clenched around him with every thrust, the feeling of his big cock deep inside of her was something she didn’t want to end.

She moaned like a pornstar for him, her mouth dropping open as she looked into his eyes. Bucky bit down on his bottom lip, keeping his rough side locked away as he fucked up into her.

“Bucky, oh shit.” Her eyes widened in panic, her cheeks covered in a pink blush as she felt her orgasm taking over. “I’m gunna cum.” She cried, head throwing back against the tiles as she rocked her hips into his.

Bucky watched her in awe, always so proud to be the provider of her pleasure. Her hair stuck to her wet body, her breathing shallow as she continued to moan.

He didn’t let up his pace, watching her tits bounce against his skin as he leaned his head back into her neck.

His moans were muffled in her skin, Y/N’s only getting louder as Bucky fucked her through her orgasm.

Her body was so sensitive, the sound of their skin slapping together had grown louder with his erratic thrusting.

Y/N’s pussy throbbed around his silky length, her arousal dripping onto his balls. She turned her head to kiss him, so fucked out and breathless.

Kissing her made Bucky more determined to chase his high, his hands pinning her hips against the wall as he fucked into her.

“Oh, yes.” Y/N moaned loudly, her hands clinging to any part of him that she could. She panted in unison with his thrusting, Bucky’s face screwing up as he chased his high. “Oh, Bucky, fuck.” She cried out when his cock twitched inside of her.

Bucky felt his orgasm about to hit. “I’m about to cum.” He suddenly moaned, hardly even finishing the sentence before he released his load inside of her.

He dropped her legs to the floor, Y/N almost tumbled at how jelly-like her legs felt. She grabbed onto his biceps to steady herself, Bucky’s hands planted themselves either side of her head on the tiled wall.

He went to kiss her softly, missing her lips because of the way she turned her head. A sudden loud noise from outside catching her attention.

— Sam and Steve’s POV—

“Are you sure?” Steve looked over at Sam in the drivers seat with a slight frown of confusion on his face.

“Yes,” Sam nodded insistingly, turning the engine off which would’ve left them in total darkness if it wasn’t for the light illuminating from the house they sat outside of. “This is the last place F.R.I.D.A.Y traced Bucky’s phone.”

“But it looks like a normal house.” Steve’s frown didn’t leave his face as he stared out of the window, scanning the area for any sign of danger. “In a suburban area, full of civilians.”

He didn’t know what he expected to find when he’d agreed to Sam’s ridiculous plan to spy on Bucky. But it sure as hell wasn’t this. The unknown set off a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wasn’t fond of. A feeling that made him think the worst.

“Maybe Hydra has finally figured out that creepy warehouses attract more attention than normal houses.” Sam half joked with a scoff, turning his body to take off his seatbelt.

“What are you doing?” Steve’s head immediately whipped round to look at Sam with a worried look on his face. Sam could sometimes be hotheaded and jump into things without a plan, which didn’t sit well with Cap.

“I’m going to check it out.” Sam replied matter-of-factly. He knew that Steve would oppose to what he thought was the best plan of action, so he wasn’t going to ask permission, which he realised wasn’t going to work.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Steve pressed his lips together in a line nervously, his eyes darting back to the location where they’d tracked Bucky.

“Okay, why?” Sam dropped his hand from where it had lifted to open the car door and looked over at Steve. He decided he at least respected Cap enough to listen to his Star Spangled reasoning.

“Well for one, if it is a Hydra location the perimeter will be highly alarmed, not to mention the calibre of dangerous assassins that will be waiting inside, you won’t stand a chance.” Steve sighed, thousands of thoughts bouncing around his mind as he ran his hand through his hair stressfully. “And even if it’s not,” Steve’s voice dropped as his eyes grew worried. “Bucky will know we were tracking him.”

Sam chose to stay silent of a moment, something that didn’t happen very often. He knew Steve had just opened up about the real reason he didn’t want to go charging in like a bull in a china shop. He didn’t want to hurt Bucky. He didn’t want Bucky to feel like his two best friends didn’t trust him. Steve didn’t want to betray Bucky’s character and allow him to know that he had his doubts. That he could become Hydra’s Winter Soldier again.

“Okay, we’ll do it your way.” Sam said softly, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“We’ll start by securing the perimeter, then if, and only if, anything seems off, we’ll move in for closer inspection.” Steve instructed directly, only opening the car door once Sam had nodded in agreement.

They’d chosen not to bring any uniforms or weapons, knowing it would only draw more attention to themselves. Making sure to shut the car doors silently behind them, the pair slowly approached the white picket fence surrounding the property.

Sam veered to the left, Steve to the right as they inspected the location. Nothing seemed off. A few lights in different rooms illuminated the house. The curtains were drawn, making it hard for the two avengers to know exactly what was going on inside.

“No sign of movement on the east side.” Steve whispered, loud enough for Sam to hear as he slowly moved to inspect the gate.

Sam looked over at where Cap was, walking casually to meet him, finding no need to be as stealthy as his partner. “I got nothing on this side either.”

Steve sighed, relaxing a little when he saw no sign of danger. He stood up straight and crossed his arms, he was growing more curious by the second.

“Why this house? This family? In this neighbourhood? Who lives here? There must be some significance. I’ll call Tony and get F.R.I.D.A.Y to run the house through the datab-“

“Shh.” Sam quickly lifted his hand, cutting Steve off as his eyes darted from side to side. There was an eery silence in the street, followed by a muffled sound which made Steve’s ears prick up in attention. “Do you hear that?”

The boys made eye contact, frowns covering both of their faces as they slowly turned towards the house. Sam gestured towards the front door with his head, Steve nodding in agreement as they carefully opened the gate and moved in towards the house.

They crept up the garden path, stomachs sinking as the noise becoming more apparent, informing them they were on the right track.

“It’s coming from around the side.” Steve whispered as he pointed his finger, Sam’s eyes drifted to where Cap was pointing with a nod of acknowledgment.

The pair continued on their search, ears on high alert as they followed the sound down the left side of the house, a small passage which was as dark as the night. They stopped when they got to a room illuminated with light, the small open window too high up on the wall for them to see inside.

Low grunts, loud moans and harsh slapping sounds made both of their faces go pale in fear. It had to be Bucky. But they weren’t his moans, they were the moans of a woman. He wasn’t alone. And it sounded like he was torturing her.

“Shit.” Steve couldn’t help but let the language slip passed his lips as he dropped his head in a sigh, his hands on his hips. He tried to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt, but the evidence was stacked against him.

“What do we do now, Cap?” Sam whispered sadly, he wanted Bucky to be innocent just as much as Steve did. Yes, he would wind up the metal armed soldier at every opportunity that he got, but he had grown fond of him.

“We can’t let this go on.” Steve gestured towards the window where the near enough screams of a women were coming from, knowing they had to act fast as he tried to think up a plan.

“Oh, yes.” The girl moaned before Steve could even begin to think, causing both Sam and Steve to look at each other in surprise. “Oh, Bucky, fuck.” She cried out in pleasure, both boy’s brains ticking over as they tried to catch up with what was happening.

“Oh. My. God.” A cheeky smile washed over Sam’s face as a chuckle erupted from his throat. Steve let his face fall in his hands, humiliated and relieved at the same time.

Steve was thankful that his friend hadn’t been taken over by Hydra again, thankful that he wasn’t causing anyone harm. But now, he was stood in an alleyway listening to his best friend have sex.

Steve, still in shock, shook his head as he looked up at Sam who was still softly chuckling.

“I’m about to cum.” Bucky’s sudden moan caused both boys to snap back to the moment, eyes widening as they realised they didn’t want to be in ear shot when their friend reached his climax.

“Go,” Sam said quickly, his hand lifting to softly push Steve when he didn’t move. “Go, go, go.” He added with a bit more urgency, both boys turning to run from the alleyway in such a hurry that they weren’t looking where they were going.

They didn’t even make it more than a couple of steps before a loud crashing sound came from beneath them. “Shit.” Sam sighed, scrambling to pick up the pipes which he’d knocked over in his rush to get away.

Steve turned around with a sour look in his face, watching Sam try to clean up his mess. There was no way all that commotion would’ve gone unnoticed by the couple inside.

Sam gave Steve a knowing look, the only chance they had of escaping was to make a break for it.

Steve nodded, turning to run back down the alleyway with Sam right behind him. They were almost in the clear, close to the front of the house when a metal arm punched across Steve’s face to stop him running, only missing him by an inch.

Sam stumbled into Steve’s back at his sudden halt, the metal hand twisting to grab Steve by his throat. He was pulled around the corner, his back shoved against the brick wall of the house harshly.

“Steve?” Bucky’s face dropped in shock as he let go of his best friend’s throat. He stepped back and looked to the side, noticing a sheepish looking Sam. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”

Steve and Sam both looked at each other before back at Bucky, noticing his wet body only covered by his track pants hanging low on his hips.

“I think the real question is, who are you doing here?” Sam asked cheekily, a cocky smirk on his face which got wiped off as soon as Steve hit his chest in annoyance.

“Bucky, we can ex-“

“How did you- Did you follow me here?” Bucky chose to ignore Sam’s comment, cutting Steve off before crossing his arms as he waited for an explanation.

There was another moment of silence as the two culprits looked at each other once again, saved by a small voice coming from beside them.

“Bucky, everything okay?” Y/N’s soft voice made all three boys turn to face her from where she stood on the porch, a slight whistle coming from Sam as they took in her appearance. Her hair was still wet, her body only covered by the shirt that Bucky had been wearing earlier that night.

Bucky sighed, running his flesh hand through his wet hair, his metal one firmly on his hip. “Yeah, baby. It’s just my friends.” Bucky said the word ‘friends’ through gritted teeth as he glared back at them.

“Oh,” Y/N perked up a little as she pranced down the steps to where they were, almost hiding behind Bucky as she cuddled his flesh arm. “I apologise for my appearance. If Bucky had told me you were coming I would’ve been more prepared.” She giggled softly, her reaction to the whole situation made all three boys frown in confusion.

They’d expected her to yell, to ask what the hell they were doing around the side of her house, to kick them out, to yell at Bucky for telling his friends about them without consulting her first, to just walk back into the house and ignore them. In that moment, Bucky knew she was a keeper.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Y/N spoke as the two boys opposite just blinked, half surprised that Bucky actually kept such a secret from them for this long. “I’m Y/N.” She held out her hand.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve immediately responded, stepping forward to shake her hand with a sweet smile.

“I’m Sam.” Sam followed, shaking her hand as

Bucky, still half confused about why his best friends were there, wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist. “So are you two-“ Sam dragged out the words.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Bucky responded shortly, Y/N’s heart fluttering at the word, something that was only shared between the two of them until now.

“Well we should all probably move inside, it’s a bit chilly out here tonight.” Y/N offered sweetly, gesturing towards the front door. “I hope you guys like brownies.”

taglist: 

@harrysthiccthighss​

@annestine​

[stay-midnight]

Fun through Harsh Times

Kim Seungmin x Male Reader x Bang Chan

W.C: 4.8K Words

Triggers: Explicit Smut, Human Discrimination, Conflict at the end, Some angst too.

THINGS TO NOTE: Demigod AU!! Seungmin - Son of Athena, Chan — Son of Demeter, Hyunjin — Son of Nemesis, Changbin — Son of Hades. Human Reader

Kinks/Warnings: Dom/Top Seungmin, Switch/Verse Reader, Sub/Bottom Bang Chan, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (make sure to cover the d to prevent std~), Buttplugs, Cuckolding, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Use of Vines, Seungmin has a big dick, Degradation, Punishments, Usage of a different petnames, Biting, Mutual Masturbation, Lots of Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Crying, Nipple Play, Ass Slapping, Use of Abilities and Powers during Sex, Bruises, Rough Sex, Soft Aftercare.

A/N: my works are getting longer I- and ooh~ this is my second? third? fic this month omg hshshsh. Also, I reread this alot of times to make sure it's okay cuz i didn't like it's based form so i had to rewrite and add new things. 💀💀, anygays hopefully you guys like this! oh and after the changbin fic which I may start writing at the 20th, in June i may open requests! this time though, ill accept three to not stress myself 💀.

You carefully remove the bread from the oven as to not burn yourself, looking at the clearly displeased customer at a call at how slow-paced you were working. You finally placed the bought breads at a plastic bag, handing it to him with a fake smile.

“Sorry, the dumb fucking human was too slow.” The customer spoke to the phone loud enough for you to catch as he walked away in a bad mood.

You sighed tiredly, remembering the amount of discrimination you received after living here for these past few months.

When Seungmin asked you to live with him and Chan at the island, you were ecstatic since you thought it would be amazing to move in with your boyfriends.

All your expectations were shut down as soon as the demigods that lived in the island clearly were not happy with you arriving. The constant murmurs and the glares were enough to tell you so.

Though, Seungmin and Chan didn't know how badly people treated you in the bakery.

You didn't wanna burden them as you were already thankful of living with them.

Changbin was there in the bakery with you anyway, if someone gets too harsh on you Bin was always there to scare them away.

Changbin was scary at first when you started working with him, when you found out he was Hades’ son — you were extremely careful to not get sent to the underworld. As time passed by, you found out he was extremely soft, so you became good friends with the man.

You blink tiredly as you picked up your bag and hauled it over your shoulder, before placing the "close" sign outside and bringing down the metal bars.

“I’m heading home now Binnie!” you shouted to the male at the back that was arranging boxes. You remove your apron, seconds later before fixing up your shirt and brushing your hair off your face.

“Bye! Stay safe on the way home, Y/N!” Changbin shouted back before groaning loudly and loud thud sound. You were about to check on him before he shouted again.

“I’m okay! Stupid box just fell..” he said out. You chuckle and slowly moved away.

“Be careful more, Bin!” you said back, before finally taking your leave with a last okay, bye! from him.

. . .

You sighed as you continued walking back to where you’re residing in — Seungmin’s mansion.

Seungmin has many times told you that you didn't need to work or and he could send a driver to pick you up. You rejected both offer, since you wanted to work and atleast help pay for your food. You also rejected the offer about the pick-up driver, opting to walk home instead.

Humming as you scrolled through the social media on your phone, you continuously walked to the direction of the place you called home with a smile on your face as you read through the cat posts.

You looked around a bit and caught the looks of disgust on the face of the nearby citizens causing you to freeze — before slowly moving again, trying to ignore them.

“What’s with them against humans anyways.” you whisper lowly as you try to ignore them, a slight pang shot through your heart, sad when you heard something.

“What did Athena’s son see in him anyways, he already has Demeter's boy. Why bring a human into the mix.” A lady near you harshly whispered.

You bit your lips trying to contain your flaring anger at her — trying to relax your nerves that was begging to have a go at her, just so you could finally arrive at the house.

. . .

You sighed in relief at the sight of the mansion gate, before even tapping the doorbell — you were greeted by the sight of the most beautiful emerald eyes, smiling brightly with dimples shown.

“Y/N~!” said male shouted in an excited manner, he looked as pretty as always and you just can't help falling for him like the day you first met.

All invasive thoughts left your mind at the sight of your bright and caring lover.

“Hi Channie~” you greeted as the gates slowly retracted to the side, removing the barrier between both of you. He ran to you and threw himself at you to which you caught him happily.

He then wrapped his arms around your neck and kissed you in a endearing way. “Where is Seung?” you ask after a bit, taking a peek at the front garden.

He let out a frown before grabbing your hand and led you through the path, “He.. He... still hasn't returned.. It’s been four days.” Chan said in a melancholic tone, his once bright eyes dimmed in sadness.

You look at him before taking notice that the plants at the sides were drying up and water was coming out of them. You frowned at the sight of it and continued as Chan led you inside.

“Chan... Seung has a lot of duties, he—” you waved your hand away at the maid entering with food to which she nods and leaves before continuing, “He has a lot on his shoulders especially dealing with the rebels, okay?” you reassured him, gently patting his head that was hung low.

Chan nodded understandingly before turning to you and leaning closer for a kiss on the lips to which you happily obliged — kissing him dearly.

“So no more, moping around. He wouldn't want that would he?” you smiled at him to which he nods at your words and gave you a lovely smile.

“He wouldn't..” he trailed off before climbing on to your lap to which you held him, you were still loving the fact that despite Chan being older than you and Min, he is the cutest.

Sure, Seungmin is cute as well but he has that scary side of him which leaves everyone shaking.

You buried your face on the neck of your lover and sighed. Chan smelled like flowers — fresh flowers to say the least, which calmed your nerves a bit. Chan giggles at you tickling his neck with your breath to which you cooed slightly.

A knock was heard from outside the door on the room you were both in, “Come in!” you said loudly for the person to hear.

A guard suddenly opened the door, “Sire’s.” he bowed deeply, “Uh, Sir Seungmin is coming home later at around an hour or so..” he said, pressing his lips to a thin line at the silent air he got and the stares from both of you.

The guard looked at you with a frown before smiling at the sight Chan. You looked at him with a saddened look to which he took note off, clearly trying not to scoff.

Chan also was suspicious at how the low demigod looked at you differently, Chan immediately raised his eyebrows at the guard

“He just wanted to let both of you know..” the guard quickly stated before leaving and shutting the door quickly due to the awkward tension he felt.

Chan bursted in a happy frenzy when the man left as he launched himself to hug you.

The flowers at the table suddenly bloomed after Chan’s was excited.

Chan slowly climbed off your lap and sat on the bed — he turned to you before raising both his eyebrows in a teasing

Then Chan smirked at you seconds later, his mind whirring thoughts. “Wanna give him a surprise?” he murmured.

You raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in demeanor — This was the Chan that teased both you and Seungmin in bed, the Chan that always had bratty plans in mind — the Chan that loved to be punished by Seungmin.

You nod without even knowing what will happen — little did you know about what’s Seungmin is gonna do to both of you later.

. . .

You look at Chan as if he was a crazy person, “Chan, are you sure? You know how Seung is when we start things without h-him?” you said in shock at the idea, shivering and stuttering at the thought when Seungmin caught both of you fucking without him. Let’s just say neither Chan or you could sit properly for days.

He tilted his head and smiled, “Cmon, Y/N.. It’ll be fun! Plus, he left us hanging for four days.” you look at Chan before sighing in defeat.

You knew Seungmin was just doing his job as Athena’s Son so Chan’s reason wasn't justifiable to say the least. But how Seungmin punished both of you was really hot at that time.. And you wouldn't mind seeing it again.

“Fine...” you said — giving in to Chan’s request, even though knowing it was a scary and terrible idea. Chan held out his hand before a pink flower and with red edges at their pollens appeared.

“Is that one of your drug flowers, again Channie?—” you asked, looked at him confused. To which Chan giggled and nodded repeatedly.

Chan is a son of Demeter, meaning he has control over nature’s plants, he is one of the tender of green life in the island but usually he isn't on duty because there are other children of Demeter on this island. You didn't know though, that Chan could create special types of flowers that contain a drug or an effect in them when inhaling their scent. The first drug flower you saw was a grey flower — it makes people fall asleep fast.

“What is it?” you asks, eyeing the flower carefully, he grinned at you before saying, “Aphrodisiac.” he said, moving the flower closer to your face.

You look at him before covering your nose immediately, “Why?!” you said through your hand, not wanting to inhale more of its alluring scent.

A smirk was back on his lips, “Maybe it’ll make you hornier therefore, maybe you can fuck me rougher?” he said teasingly before withdrawing the dangerous drug from your face.

You let go of your nose and sighed, “You could just ask..?” He looked at you straight in the eyes as you finished your statement — Chan’s orbs glinting with arousal, the aphrodisiac flower in his hand slowly wilted to gray dust.

“Hm? Would you be rough with me then?” He purred, pushing you down the bed — his emerald orbs staring down to yours, He grinded his ass on your clothed cock in a teasing manner.

A grin was plastered on his face before you switched positions with him, his back hitting the bed softly. He gasped, clearly suprised with the action.

You had both of his hands pinned on top of his head in a heartbeat causing Chan to squirm against your grip, “You’re such a brat, baby~... And I don't like brats.” you said the last part with a glare. He whined before looking up at you with puppy eyes, to which you chuckled at.

“That won’t work Channie.” you said, biting his neck harshly — him releasing a loud moan at the pain, Chan was such a painslut — he got off to Seungmin’s punishments so you expected no less.

You slowly lowered Chan’s shorts that he was wearing. Smiling at the growing dark spot at the middle of his underwear. “Already leaking? What a slutty baby, I have~” You taunted, squeezing his growing erection as you pressed your own clothed bulge against his thigh.

Chan moaned loudly at what you said his dick hardening even more.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance at the clothes you were both wearing.

You made quick work of the clothes on Chan’s body and yours as well. You noticed that vines with pink roses had appeared at the corners of the room, to which you smiled at — it shows that Chan was extremely needy.

You look at Chan — bare as the day he was born, your eyes raked over his form — from his face that had a red hue to the, to his chest and those beautiful pink buds — and to his pretty pink dick that was leaking precum down to his balls. He was so beautiful — inside and out. Fuck, his delicate pale skin was very enticing to fill with marks.

You wanted to ravage this man in front of you and savour the pleasure.

Chan let out a whine, “D— Do something, master...” he said, to which you raised an eyebrow at the sudden nickname.

You never expected Chan to call you that, so you looked at him with widened eyes before regaining your composure and moved closer to Chan as you hovered over him.

You lift his legs up shortly, licking your lips at the puckered hole — already shining and wet. “You prepped yourself already?” You ask, softly touching the ring of muscles with your thumb — gently.

He nods repeatedly, rolling his hips down impatiently — wanting some form of penetration, “Stay still, dumb pup.” you said harshly before finally shoving two fingers at his wet hole immediately. Feeling his walls clench against your digits.

“M-Master, please.... Puppy don’t need more stretching, puppy just wanna be fucked.” He begged, a tear slowly falling off his red cheeks.

You hummed, acknowledging his request — you took a condom from the drawer to which he pouted before plants came out of your hands and snagged the condom away and back to the drawer. “No condoms please...” he said, looking at you with a pout.

You smiled and lined up your tip against his lubricated hole — you smiled at his babbling words at the pressure on his entrance.

You spread his legs further — almost bending him in half, you cooed at the sight of his leaking cock — dripping a lot against his abs. You then slowly sink in to the welcoming warmth, savouring how his walls spazzes around your size.

“Ah f-fuck, puppy...” you almost howled out as your hips hit his ass. Chan was so cute — his eyes stinging with tears as he let out small moans. His chest was heaving and red was spreading all over his chest.

“M-Master, move. move, p-please...” He whined out, pushing himself back on your cock. You grinned as you remember his request earlier about being rough.

You pulled out slowly, before snapping your hips back as you fucked him precisely but rough at the same time. His useless cock was now oozing with cum at the tip. “F— Fuck fuck fuck.” he chanted repeatedly with every snap of your hips, as he rolled his eyes back at the pleasure.

You see red at the sight of Chan moaning "Master" while also cursing at the same time. You grip his muscular thighs as you pull him back on your cock, thrusting up to him in sequence.

“Pup, I’m close... God, you feel so good around me..” Chan moaned in response as you leaned down to bite a pink nipple, the bud hardening against your teeth as he arch his back against you at the sensation.

You disconnected your lips from his perked bud so you could take a look at the beautiful man underneath you.

Chan looked so fucked out, his hair was disheveled and his green eyes were shining through his tears. You were almost proud at how much you fucked Chan dumb.

“Cumming!! Master, ah~” he sniffed as he felt his cock shoot out spurts of white, reaching up to his pec — decorating his chest in his white sperm.

His walls clenched around you in a tight grip as you let out a low moan of your own as you emptied yourself inside of him — filling him up as you gripped his hips in a bruising way.

Chan’s body were trembling from the aftershock of his orgasm, you pecked his lips and smiled as you look down at him, his chest heaving and sweat and cum mixing on his pretty skin.

“I’m pulling out Channie, is that okay?” You asked in a warm tone, softly brushing your hand through his hair to relax him.

“Plug..?” he breathed out as you nod before reaching out to one of the drawers and pulling out a medium-sized buttplug before slowly pulling out of him — placing the plug to keep Chan full of your warm liquid.

He sighed in relief and smiled at you to which you smiled back, “I’ll go get a towel to clean you up, alright?” you said before getting up and placing your boxers on.

He hummed in agreement as he just laid there a bit tired of the activities.

. .

You opened the door out the room to run to the bathroom before a voice behind you stopped you, “Had fun, Y/N?” the male voice said in a cold tone.

You turned back and saw Seungmin standing, leaning at the wall as he looked at you with deadly eyes. “You both started without me.” he said blankly before trudging towards you as you stood there with cold feet.

“Why don’t you tell me, love. Who wanted it more?” Seungmin whispered to your ear when he stood in front of you his hand trailing down to your ass before grabbing a cheek.

“I— I did.”

He slapped your ass firmly — a moan slipped out of your lips from that. His eyes flashed a dangerous pink hue before it returned to normal. “Do you think you could lie to me?” he hissed out.

“A-Ah... Channie did..” You gulped at the slight anger that was hidden in his voice.

“As expected.” he chuckled darkly before pulling on your arm, slowly dragging you back to the room.

. .

A sudden opening of the door, made the tired Chan jump up from the bed. His mouth opened in shock as Seungmin was there with a grip on you.

Seungmin wanted to coo at Chan’s expression but instead kept his act on.

“Sit on the bed.” he said referring to you, to which you complied to easily. He silently grabbed the bottle of lube at a drawer — yours and Chan’s eyes following his form as he does so.

Seungmin then removed his clothes with ease, you almost drooling at his large length to which you eyed like candy, to which Seungmin took notice and almost smiled — just barely stopping himself from doing so.

“Tie yourself up, puppy.” Seungmin said in a voice of authority to which Chan lightly whimpered at, he nods slightly before placing his hand above his head and against the headboard.

A gasp left your lips as vines started to wrap and thicken around Chan’s wrists, tightening up and securing Chan on the side of the bed.

It always shocks you when Seung uses that ability he was blessed with, "Voice of Authority" as the demigods call it. Whenever Seungmin uses it, most weaker demigods will get on there knees and comply but much stronger ones can resist it. Whenever Seungmin uses it on humans though, it gives him perfect control over them.

— Seungmin promised you he will never use it on you as he doesn't want to take away your free will.

Seungmin sat on the bed, grabbing you and placing you on his lap harshly before he moved you and himself so he could face Chan.

His cock was hardening on your back as he bit your neck softly, he looked at Chan with a smirk, “Tell me puppy, what did you call Y/N earlier again?”

Chan looked at you and whined as his cock started to spring up. “I c-called him, m-master...” he said, looking at Seungmin with puppy eyes as his hole clearly clenched around the buttplug.

Seungmin chuckled as he kissed your shoulder, “And who am I to you, pretty?” Seungmin whispered in your ears huskily, clearly noticing your cock straining against your boxers.

“D— Daddy..” you asked, embarrassed as you felt Chan’s gaze upon you, a gasp left you as Seungmin pulled down your boxers in one go, his hands trailing over your thighs.

He lifted you up a bit so that your hole was exposed to Chan and so that his hands could near it.

He popped the bottle of lube open, circling your rim with a wet finger. You let out a sigh of pleasure when a finger finally went into you, slowly — it wasn't enough though, you needed more.

Seungmin took your hips rocking as a go sign as another finger joined inside till it finally became three moments later, you were bouncing on his slender fingers now and Chan was watching all of this unfold with tired eyes but his cock that was standing provided enough that Seungmin knows that he is still needy.

“Want your cock, da— daddy..” you begged out in a high voice, wanting the man behind you to fully destroy you already.

Seungmin turned to Chan that was rubbing his legs together uncomfortably — in need of some sort of friction. “Look at your master being a pathetic cockslut, Channie~” he mocked you, to which Chan let out a short “M—Mmph~”

You whimper at what Seungmin had said.

Before he lifted you up and slowly brung you down on his large dick, your back flushed against his chest.

Chan moaned at the sight of your hole taking in Seungmin’s cock deliciously while you had drool dripping down your cheek at the amazing stretch.

Chan whined against his restraints as his cock leaked as much as it could.

You lay your head back on Seungmin’s shoulder as you panted in pleasure, Seungmin nuzzled his head on your shoulder before using his fingers to pulling at your nipples.

You moaned loudly when Seungmin shifted a bit causing his cock inside to prod your bundle of sensitive nerves.

Seungmin pulled you off his dick slowly before slamming you back down, causing you to let out a cry as your hole clenched around his girth repeatedly.

“Doing so good, baby.. You feel so tight around me, yeah? Well this is gonna be a long punishment isn’t it? Let’s if you can walk tomorrow, love~” He hummed, kissing the back of your ear as you let out whimpers of pleasure.

He then look at Chan who was still messy but pretty, “Don’t think you’re out of the punishment though, slut. You’re not gonna cum as you watch me destroy your cocksleeve of a master’s hole.”

Chan thrusts up into the air and whine in retaliation, with his mind set on one thing, wanna cum.

Seungmin then started a rough pace of thrusting up into you, chasing his own pleasure and using you as his very own fucktoy for your punishment.

. . .

.

You forgot now how long Seungmin was thrusting into you and rearranging your insides — how long he had speared you on his cock. You were on cloud nine the whole time so you didn't bother to take notice of the time.

But your body was aching from your third orgasm today and Seungmin hadn't even came yet — how the hell does he last so long.. Fuck. you wanted him to fill you up like how you filled up Channie earlier.

Speaking of Chan, you looked at him and saw him whining and writhing — hopelessly rubbing his thighs together. His muscles were flexing, the more he struggles.

White spots blinded your eyesight as you trembled, your tip spurting out little dribbles of cum as you moaned weakly. Your cock felt like falling off as the lewd squelching filled the room.

Seungmin was growling while marking your neck as every thrust of his, sends a dizzying shiver throughout your body.

“I’m close now, love...” He whispered to which you responded with a simple and short, “Want it inside..”

Seungmin chuckled deeply and wrapped his hands around your waist before thrusting up to you one last time and coating your walls in sticky white with a sexy groan — as you let out a weak moan at the wet sensation.

That was what it all took for you to collapse on the bed, your cheeks pressing into the warm mattress as you felt Seung’s cum dribble out your hole — down to your balls and wetting the mattress.

Seungmin licked his lips at the sight of your entrance loose, gaping and oozing with his cum.

Seungmin was also tired, so he grabbed Chan’s cock in his hand to jerk him off fast to which Chan came immediately with a howl.

“You can untie yourself now, Channie..” Seungmin said in a soft tone,, to then which the vines restricting his hands turned into dust immediately before Chan grabbed you softly and held you.

You look at Chan with droopy eyes, smiling at him dearly. Chan giggled before holding you tightly even though his body was sticky.

Seungmin had went out of the room to fetch some dry towels and water while also leaving his two lovers to cuddle with one another.

. .

“You okay, bubs? Minnie wasn't too rough? I could prick him with thorns if you’d like..~” Chan mumbles, pecking your lips softly while also letting out a tiny laugh at then end.

You nod, giggling afterwards to which Chan smiled — brushing through your locks with his hand, a loving grin plastered on his face.

Humming softly as Chan waited for Seungmin to come back.

. .

Seungmin finally arrived with a three damp cloth hanging on his shoulder while carrying a cup and a pitcher filled with water. He smiled lovingly at the both of you before setting down the water pitcher and cups at the nightstand.

He then moved closer to the both of you to wipe both of you clean. He started with Chan, thoroughly wiping his chest down to his abs before teasing him by pushing the buttplug deeper in his ass to which Chan let out a small whine too.

After that, he cleaned you up too by wiping the cum on your thighs and around your buttcheeks.

He started to finger your gaping hole slowly too, trying to remove any more excess cum that was left inside. While being fingered, you were biting your lips, trying to not moan at a sensitive part being touched.

He looked at both you and Chan sweetly, before leaning down to kiss you both at the forehead. “Such good babies, I have~” He said in a teasing tone.

Chan pouted, “I’m older than you, Minmin!!”, he glared at Seungmin which made him laugh, he then patted Chan’s head. “Doesn’t matter, pup~” You watched their interactions with a tired smile.

Before Seungmin remembered something earlier to which he turned to you, sitting on the bed. His smile turning flat. “So, I passed by the bakery earlier and your co-worker said something to me.”

You froze on the spot before looking at his cold eyes, “Why didn't you tell me that the other citizens treated you like shit and called you names?” He said, a small anger laced in his voice. — It was not directed at you though.

Silence.

Chan’s mouth hang agape a short while before he growled — taking into account what Seungmin said, “They do fucking what to you?” He snapped, venom clearly in his tone. Chan rarely gets mad and when he does expect a disaster.

Chan barely could contain himself as roots flowed out the walls and into the hallway, Seungmin looked over at Chan, “Channie, calm down.” His eyes flashing the same pink hue as earlier in the hallway encounter.

“Calm— What? Calm down? They treat him terribly, and you expect me to not choke them where they live?” Chan seethed, not happy at what Seungmin is doing — which is trying to stop him.

The roots on the walls enlarge and footsteps was audibly heard outside the walls of the room — possibly guards that were trying to run away to avoid getting trampled by the evergrowing vines

“I’ll deal with it, so don't worry. Just don't destroy the house okay?” Seungmin tried to reason as best as he can.

But Chan didn't stop still littering the whole room with dangerous roots and long vines. Angry Chan was a force to be reckoned with ans even Min had hard times to calm him down.

“Chan.” Seungmin had used his own ability now, wanting Chan to stop what he was doing — His jaw tightened in frustration while you sat there with fear at the conflict of your boyfriends.

Chan flinched slightly before growling lowly, challenging Seungmin, “Don’t you fucking dare use that on me outside of bed, Kim Seungmin.” he said darkly, glaring at black haired man.

“Bang Christopher fucking Chan. Wilt your plants, are you challenging me? ” Seungmin looked down at Chan with a dark pink flare at his eyes, displeased with the disrespect of the nature demigod.

Chan’s eyes slowly diluted back to normal and whimpered, his plants were now gone — turned into dust, he looked at Seungmin like a puppy that had been beaten up.

Seungmin sighed and sat back down on the bed, petting Chan is in his fragile state before he grabbed him so he could hold him properly.

He looked at you before speaking, “You’re gonna have a bodyguard with you at all times, I already assigned who. Hyunjin will detain anyone who bad-mouths you, okay?” Seungmin said clear as day.

“B— But-”

“No buts, Y/N. This is for your safety, not only physically but also emotionally. Plus, they can't get away with disrespecting what’s mine.” He fumed slightly.

Your eyes softened and rubbed his shoulder comfortably to soothe his anger. “Fine. But let’s sleep for now. Chan is tired, you’re tired, I’m also tired...” you whisper to him, hugging him before he laid Chan down to the bed.

Soon enough all of you fell into a comfortable sleep, you were hugging Chan as Seungmin was spooning the both of you. The fight earlier soon vanished like a wisp as the room fell into a comfortable silence.

. . .

Special Scene~:

“How dare you fucking touch me. I am a son of A— ow! ow!” The man getting cuffed by Hyunjin said out. Hyunjin made sure to tighten the cuffs more to make sure the rude customer felt discomfort.

“Do I look like I care? No. You are going to have jail time, bitch.” Hyunjin, a son of Nemesis sassed out as he grabbed his phone and dialed someone to come pick the detainee up.

You look over at Changbin at the scene you just witnessed, he looked back at you.

“Okay, but that’s kinda ho—”

“Changbin!” you look at him, secretly judging his word choices.

“What? It’s true..” Hades’ son trailed off.

[cdroloisms]

take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi) 

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete. 

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now. 

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news. 

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright. 

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now. 

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots. 

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine. 

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?) 

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all. 

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen. 

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it. 

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs. 

“Michael!” 

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air. 

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!” 

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves. 

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands. 

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly. 

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?” 

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.” 

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice. 

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices. 

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return. 

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest. 

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all? 

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands. 

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team. 

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs. 

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!” 

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation. 

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return. 

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak. 

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?” 

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time. 

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?” 

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?” 

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in. 

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?” 

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud. 

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.” 

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.” 

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter. 

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.” 

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream. 

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for. 

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena. 

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops. 

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again. 

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!” 

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up. 

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge. 

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway. 

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“ 

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.” 

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.” 

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out. 

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best. 

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail. 

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly. 

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.” 

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions- 

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?” 

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut. 

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps. 

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well. 

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to. 

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before. 

“Amazing teamwork, guys,” Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Like you did that much.” 

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye. 

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs. 

“Fair.” 

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow. 

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future. 

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever. 

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team. 

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits. 

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they? 

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body. 

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well? 

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream. 

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further. 

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him. 

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own. 

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?” 

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words. 

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?” 

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.” 

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?” 

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s  worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red. 

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?” 

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome. 

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break. 

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain. 

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.” 

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own. 

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake. 

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point. 

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.” 

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.” 

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time. 

Keep your head down. 

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.” 

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race. 

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!” 

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.” 

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again. 

“Thanks, guys.” 

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings. 

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?” 

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.” 

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs. 

��But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, “so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?” 

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back. 

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?” 

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!” 

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition. 

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down. 

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it. 

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap. 

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter. 

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder. 

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own. 

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it. 

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off. 

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off. 

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak. 

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod. 

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams,  watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team - 

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering  into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena. 

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?” 

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners. 

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route. 

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out. 

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused. 

“Gottem.” 

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting. 

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them. 

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby. 

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?” 

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective. 

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second - 

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!” 

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own. 

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue. 

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay. 

The smile slips off his face. 

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on. 

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what? 

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply. 

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it. 

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity. 

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all. 

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow. 

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down. 

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red. 

---

“What the hell was that?” 

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence. 

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?” 

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look  above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes. 

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-” 

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?” 

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter. 

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-” 

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?” 

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?” 

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features. 

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.” 

“...liar.” 

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down. 

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward. 

“Quackity!” 

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-” 

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops. 

“LET’S GO!” 

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows. 

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

“If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time. 

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself- 

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.” 

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?” 

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze. 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.” 

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder. 

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp. 

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention. 

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.” 

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..” 

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.” 

“Thanks for everything, Scott.” 

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.” 

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing. 

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?” 

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?” 

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.” 

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him. 

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.” 

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached. 

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.” 

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure. 

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?” 

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head. 

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.” 

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly. 

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.” 

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.” 

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life. 

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.” 

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow. 

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?” 

[babylooneytoonz]

the Other Lane.

pairing : Clark Kent x Reader

requested by: @dashingcavill [Hope you like this! 💛]

warnings: Angst with a happy ending, and a lot of fluff in the end.

A/N: Ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't help but put some major angst in here, but I swear the ending is happy and I added the right amount of feels and fluff to make it hurt less. 💛

[The Masterlist]

You often wondered if you were born to your parents only to become a commodity that could be compared to your sister, Lois , at all times. Yes, the two of you were different, she had glamourous blonde hair and sparkling blue irises that made her strike out, while you had sombre [Y/H/C] hair and dull [Y/E/C] eyes that peeked out from the tint of your glasses. If the glasses weren't enough to fit you perfectly into the category that was termed as 'nerds', the fact that you loved to bury yourself into mounds and mounds of books, and literature was sure to fit you into that bill. All that comparison, but that didn't lessen the bond that you shared with Lois though.

However, things slowly started changing, the dynamics messing up when Clark Kent came into your life, as a friend and as a colleague.

Lois worked as a reporter for Daily Planet, and you, well you were mostly working in the background, struggling to make a run with your tiny little column on relationship advises. It wasn't like you were any less intelligent, but maybe you just were okay with how everything was going.

It didn't mean that there weren't times at all when Lois made you secretly jealous. To be fair, it didn't bother you when you heard stories of how Lois got herself into trouble yet again, with none other than the Superman came to her rescue. You could still take that, considering the fact that Superman took his duty towards the civilians as his topmost priority, but when you began noticing obvious changes in your sister's behaviour when she talked to Clark, his alter ego; your colleague at work, you couldn't help but start feeling the little pangs of jealousy.

It all began subtly— starting from lingering glances at the workplace, to hands brushing with each other's, almost innocently, yet the two of them had a sparkle in their eyes when it did. At first, you decided to ignore them at work, trying your best to not run into Clark Kent while you were in your office building. The reason for this was still inexplicably strange for you. You didn't even know the man that well, yet you could do nothing in your control to keep your budding feelings for him under check. It was like, the more you avoided Clark Kent, the more you began aching to get a glimpse of him.

As the days passed, you realized that your crush on Clark was slowly getting more prominent, and you started feeling scared, dreading if there ever came a day that your secret crush on him with finally be out. To top it up a notch, you wondered how Lois will react, knowing well aware that there was something blooming between the two of them, although she had never admitted this to you herself. Also, you kept hoping that whatever this was, between Clark and Lois, it was maybe all in your head and that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't even true, and you hoped it wasn't.

Soon, days grew into weeks and weeks flew by as long months, and you realized that what you felt for Clark wasn't just a silly crush, but you were actually falling in love with the man. It was the littlest things that he did that made your heart melt. You would, sometimes, run into him in the cafeteria, where he would be filling up his mug of coffee. He was a gentleman, he would smile and greet you warmly, your eyes meeting his sparkling bright ones as he would move out of the way and insist that you went ahead first. You would often end up taking elevator rides with him, and he would make sweet small talks with you, talking to you about everything, ranging from the weather to a possible alien invasion.

The plan that you had cooked up to avoid Clark Kent went down the drain from those days onwards. Instead, you almost began running into Clark almost everyday. The gossips about Clark and Lois had, by then, died down and you couldn't help but feel relieved, relieved that maybe you had just been dreaming, and there was nothing between Lois and Clark.

"Hey [Y/N], can I borrow your turtleneck? I can't seem to find mine?"

You looked up from the book that you had been binge reading on, flustered and embarassed, as you immediately tossed the book unceremoniously into your blanket. Of course, you couldn't let your sister in on the fact that you were secretly reading the fifty shades series. She would tease the living hell out of you. And then there was the fact that you felt ashamed of the fact that you could practically imagine Clark Kent in your mind as Christian Grey, and it was making you all heated up and bothered.

Lois raised an eyebrow when she saw you red you had turned, "Are you okay? You look like a massive human sized tomato."

"Gee, Lois, thanks?" You mumbled, still reeling from the way she had suddenly barged into your bedroom, as you pushed your glasses over the bridge of your nose, "couldn't bother to knock?"

"Since when do we do these formalities?" She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, and dashed towards your closet, throwing it open as her fingers began working through the hangers, looking for what she was looking for. She was practically messing up your closet, so you sighed and decided to give her a helping hand. Abruptly, you slid out of the covers, forgetting about the novel that you had hidden underneath and the novel suddenly slipped off the side of the bed and fell to the floor, it's covering full on display.

You facepalmed, burying your face into your hands as Lois walked up to the book and picked it up, smirking obviously as she read out the title out loud just to tease you.

"Looks like my baby sister is finally growing her wings."

"Stop it, Lois. Don't embarass me," you grumbled, looking away. Instead, you dashed up to your closet and pushed her to the side, roughly pulling out your turtleneck as you handed it to her.

"Come on, [Y/N]" she laughed, shaking her head, messing up her perfectly styled blonde waves as she ran a hand through them, "We all have done this. You're not the only one. Nothing to be embarassed about. It's not like you're watching porn."

"It is technically still porn if I'm reading it," you whispered, watching her as she examined the turtleneck and smiled, as though she had pictured just the best trousers to go with it in the back of her mind as she absentmindedly replied back, "Again, sis, we all have done it."

You noticed the way she kept glancing at her phone, with a smile threatening to spill across her features. You raised your eyebrows and smacked your lips together, blinking curiously. She finally looked up and saw that you were staring at her so she grinned, "Guess who has a date tonight?"

"A date?" You asked, absentmindedly.

"Clark asked me out, [Y/N]. He is taking me to this really good Thai place that opened up in the suburbs and I just couldn't decide on what to wear!! This will just go perfectly with my jeans."

It happened so suddenly, but it still did. You felt like someone had just ripped your gut out with bare hands. You suddenly felt empty, was an understatement. You suddenly felt strange and cut off, and everything around you suddenly felt cold and distant and gloomy. You looked up at her, your earlier warmth having dissipated into a cold, dark look and you gave her a smile, biting your lip, "That's great, Lois. Have fun."

Lois noticed the way your face fell, but she couldn't understand or take the hint. She kept watching as you moved away, turning your back towards her and didn't utter another word. She parted her lips, wanting to ask her what had gone wrong suddenly, but decided not to, or rather, keep the discussion for another time. She didn't want Clark to reach before she had even gotten ready. You didn't step out of your bedroom, that night when Lois returned from her date with Clark, and Lois frowned when she saw that the lights to your bedroom were already switched off. You were a late sleeper.

Two months later,

Lois looked up from the article that she had been reading to find you enter the dining room with a breakfast plate in your hand.

"Mornin'," you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you sat down on a chair in front of her, next to your father, Sam Lane. Your father looked up from the newspaper that he was reading, and glanced at Lois who shrugged her shoulders in response and he cleared the throat.

"Honey, don't you think you've been locking yourself up in your room for long now? When was the last time you actually did something that didn't involve either the bed, or your office desk?" The cutting crispness in his voice was enough to slice through your heart, but weirdly, you felt nothing, ecen when you heard Lois gasp and mumble something to her father in protest.

"What do you want me to do, dad?" You asked, sipping your juice, your eyes fixed to your plate.

Ignoring you, Sam turned towards his elder daughter as he narrowed his eyes at her, his loud, booming voice echoing through your house, "Lois, what the hell happened at work? She just quit? And didn't even give a damn valid reason as to what on earth happened?"

"I don't know, dad. She hardly talks to me anymore," Lois replied.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, wondering when you had become so invisible to the world. You were right there with them and yet they regarded you like you weren't even there.

"It was difficult to get you job at the Daily Planet and look at you, throwing it away for whatever the hell the reason was." Your dad barked.

Your fingers clenched into a fist and Lois visibly tensed. Hurriedly, she stood up and announced that she was leaving. You stood up too, but not for work, but rather to go back to the place that you had locked yourself in for the past two months. When you reached the door, you turned around and regarded your father, mumbling, "Why would you care anyway? You never really did before."

You kicked open your room door and slammed it back shut again as you ran straight for your bed. You were trembling like a leaf trying to detach itself from the tree when you buried your face into the pillow and screamed as loudly as you could into it. You were a mess, a walking , talking, living, breathing mess.

You cried, for almost thirty minutes, until you were out of tears. You then sat up and rubbed your eye sockets, finally taking a deep breath. You were letting Clark and Lois affect you so much, you had forgotten what it was like to live normally. How were you supposed to go on like this? If you wouldn't take a command of your own life again, then how would learn to get back up on your feet? When would you learn to accept that you would never get Clark? He wasn't the one for you.

Feelings are so transient, it's like you can feel them slicing through your insides one minute, and then the other minute, you feel unrealistically numb.

With those sorts of destructive thoughts in your mind, you sneaked a bottle of whiskey that night from your father's liquor cabinet at two am at night. You rolled the window pane and snuck out onto the fire escape until you were climbing up towards the roof the building of your apartment, the bottle in tow.

You fixed yourself on the ledge, using your teeth to twist the bottle cap as you took a swig of it, feeling the warm liquid burn your relentless thirst for relief. Sip after sip, you kept staring at the starless sky, mediating your gaze from the sky down to the glittery buildings.

"Will I ever forget you, Clark Kent?" You whispered, into the thin air, laughing bitterly at yourself as you took the last sip from the bottle before it rolled away. The way the lights glimmered in front of you, and one of two cars drove past your building, looking like tiny little blinking lights from the height you were at, you realized one thing. No matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

You were lost in a turbulence of your own thoughts, so entangled into them, you didn't hear the soft thud somewhere behind you, neither the sound of the faintest footsteps that got closer to you, with every passing second. You took a sharp breath, and slowly stepped over the ledge, feeling shudders all over your frame as the winds hit you all over you. You footing, however, slipped, a sharp scream erupting from your lips as you fell backwards against gravity, your heart almost stopping.

Someone suddenly reached out towards you, gripping your wrist, leaving you hanging from the ledge, your body flailing in the air.

He pulled you with a jerk towards you, and your body hit his front, your hair falling all over your face partially covering it. You felt intoxicated, so much, that you had almost died by falling off the building but you didn't feel the scare, the only thing you felt was a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Superman growled, through gritted teeth, his eyes sparkling as you jerked you by your shoulders.

"Clark? Is -- that you?!" You slurred, holding on to his cape tight to hold you in place. You were in a weird state of mind, you could see that it was him, but you couldn't figure out if it really was him, or if it was your mind that was playing an illusion on you.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Clark fumed, still holding on to you by the low of your back. He suddenly jumped off the ledge, with you in tow, away from the edge, so the two of you were in the middle of the roof now.

"K-Kill myself? No, I.. I.." You stammered, struggling for the right words but your brain felt frozen.

"Two months, and you don't show yourself. And when I finally see you, you're trying to jump off a fucking building?!" His eyes just then fell on the empty whiskey bottle. He growled, clenching his fists tight as he let go off you and walked up to the where the bottle lay, his cape flying behind him. He bent, lifting it up as he examined it, noticing how the neck of the bottle had your lipstick imprints on it. "And you're drunk. To top it up a notch."

Your nostrils flared in an anger you hadn't experienced ever before, your secret feelings finally crushing you completely, mixed with the alcohol that was rushing through your blood. You growled, like a cornered animal, that was wounded yet didn't want to back down. You pushed him, once, twice, throwing out all your pent up anger and frustration into his steely body like he felt no hurt. You screamed, you lashed, you scratched and you cried, finally coming undone, like beads of a rosary coming apart and scattering all over the floor.

Clark's heart broke at the sight of you. He had always seen you as a strong, happy woman, always smiling for him whenever he saw you at work. And this woman, that stood in front of his eyes right now, was far from it.

"I am not weak! I wouldn't kill myself! You give yourself too much importance, to think that someone would give their life for you!" You lashed out.

You were tired of hitting him like a punching bag. He grabbed you by your wrists, holding them together in front of you, pressed against his chest. He slowly moved, so he was towering over you, his back shielding you from unwanted, prying eyes as he gazed into your eyes, trying to find the answer to where all of this was coming from.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Come on, Lois is worried about you."

You couldn't stop yourself when your hand jerked itself free from his hold, and your palm struck his cheek. There was a crackling noise, of skin against skin, and tears formed in your eyes when the realisation hit you, all the intoxication washing off of you. You had just slapped Superman, a man that could snap your neck by grabbing your throat. Yet, he just stood there, too shocked to even register that you had slapped him right across his face and what was worse, he couldn't understand the reason you had done that. Anger was surfing through his veins, but worse than the anger that he was feeling, he was feeling like someone had pulled his heart out, ripping it to shreds right in front of his eyes.

"Why?" He let go off your other hand, his own palm coming to rest against his cheek as you gave you a look full of hurt.

"Why did you even save me, Clark? You should have let me fall. Atleast, it would have spared me the pain of listening to her name flow out of your lips again."

"Why do you hate her so much? She is your sister, [Y/N] and she cares for you. She worries that you're killing yourself and she doesn't know the reason why--" Clark was losing his temper, slowly but surely. He didn't understand you and that was eating him up.

"The reason why? WHY??! Oh Clark can you stop? And listen to yourself. I love Lois, but she needs to stop trying to govern my life. I'm allowed to feel sad, I'm allowed to feel a fucking heartbreak--" You didn't realise, but your lips were trembling now, your eyes leaking salty tears. You shivered when you felt Clark hold you by your shoulders but you didn't push his arms away.

"Who broke your heart?" He whispered, his voice cracking.

"You're fucking daft for a man who saves the world--" Hissing bitterly , you pushed yourself away from Clark's grip and turned towards the ledge but this time, you didn't try anything that would risk your life. You simply revelled in the cold feeling of the wind striking your tear stained face as you took a punctured breath, feeling Clark's breath on the side of your neck.

"Who broke your heart?" He asked again, but this time it was much softer, and it made you bite down on your lip to hold yourself from breaking into a hysterical crying.

"You did, Clark. You broke my heart." You finally whispered, staring into the abyss in front of you, your eyes cloudy and your throat parched as you continued, your lips trembling, "I loved you. Always did, but you never looked at me. It was always Lois. And it killed me, watching you love her, knowing that you will never love me the way you love her--" Clark let you speak, he wanted to listen to you, for you to let it all out, all those bitter things that you had locked up inside your mind, that was slowly eating you up and killing you from the inside. "I am tired of everyone, for you, for my father and for the world to see me as the Other Lane, as Lois Lane's little sister. My name is [Y/N]. I like to draw although I am shit at it, I can sing in the showers and I hate partying. That is me. I want a normal relationship too, but it seems that the world is against me. I fell in love with one man, and turns out, he isn't even human, he is a freaking superhero from Krypton?"

Clark let out a gruff sounding snort, as he looked down at you. Reluctantly, he reached for a strand of hair that was sticking to your tear coated cheek, removing it and gently tucking it behind your ear. He felt a shudder run down your spine, with just a gentle touch of his hand and he smiled, biting his lip. How was he supposed to tell you what the truth was?

"You remember how we met at the cafeteria every morning ? And I let you take the coffee?"

You nodded, listening to him, trying to control the crying that had now turned to sniffles, as Clark kept speaking.

"And the countless times I ran into that elevator with you and me stuck inside for just two floors?"

"You must have been thinking how weird I was. How unlike Lois--" You began, but you were cut off by Clark's voice.

"I used to wonder if there was anything I could do to make the elevators stop working, so I'd get to spend more time with you. Wretched elevators, not once did anything go according to what I wanted." He mumbled, but he had a small smile playing on his lips, while you just looked on, staring at him in disbelief, wondering if your mind was playing jokes with you once again.

"I thought I would take Lois' help, to you know, figure out if you felt the same way, but you never said anything to her."

"What about the date? Lois and you went on?" You asked.

"Well, I --" he shrug, looking down at his feet, sheepishly, " Lois thought you would confess how you felt for me if we pretended to--"

You were too numb to react; so you just blinked in retaliation. Your blood ran cold, and you suddenly felt light headed. All this while, while you had secretly been pining for Clark Kent to love you back, was it actually the other way round? Was Clark going through the same thing wondering if you felt the same for him?

"That was cowardly." You hissed, through pursed lips, "Trying to pretend to be in love with my sister."

"I was in love with the other Lane," he bit his lip, his face slightly inclined towards you, so he was looking down at you, and you up at him, "I think you are amazing. You are intelligent, and smart. And you're unique. There are these little things I adore about you. The way you greeted everyone whenever I was around-- ranging from the security guard, to the building keepers at the Daily Planet.. the way you forgot to wipe your lips after drinking coffee, and you had this froth all over your upper lip giving you a faint moustache?" He chuckled because you literally let out a gasp, suddenly embarassed.

"Then there were those days you had a bad day and you locked yourself up in your cabin, working all day. I wondered if I should just knock, but I was scared you will tell me off--" he continued, his blues peeking into yours. Your stomach fluttering, you couldn't help but laugh, as though a weight had been lifted off your chest suddenly and held him steady with your hand on his arm. Finally mustering enough courage, you pushed yourself on your toes, and reached up, letting your palm graze delicately over his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, "I would have never told you off, Clark. Though that's not what is bothering me right now."

"What is ?" He asked, innocently, relaxing under the touch of your thumb.

"You said you're in love with the other Lane, Clark."

His lips creased, slowly tugging upwards into a smile that was enough to make you feel giddy. Superman wrapped a sturdy arm around you and felt yourself being lifted off, until he was practically holding you in his arms, "Mhm, yep? You got a problem, Miss Lane? Or do Kryptonians don't fit the bill ?"

"Oh, hush, Clark. You're such a dork. But will you be.. my dork?" You bit your lip, holding on to him as though your life depended on it.

"I thought... you'd never ask?" He began, unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of his feelings , churn them into words, something only Clark Kent was good at , and not his alter ego, but found himself halted by the soft press of your index finger against his lips and the sweet whisper of your voice against his ears as he held you close.

“I know, neither did I.” You whispered as he clasped your face in his massive hands and gently touched his lips to yours.

Three years later,

This had probably been the longest that Clark Kent had been away from you, his lover, his best friend, his wife-- four months to be exact. Needless to say, he was excited to be able to see you again, to hold you again.

The familiar silhouette of the cottage on top of the hill came into his view, flowers hanging into tiny earthen pots hanging out on the front porch. The freshly painted white picket fence looked beautiful, and inviting as Lois stood with Martha by the gate, both the ladies sipping tea from their respective cups and saucers. They couldn't contain their smiles when they saw Clark, even though he was covered in what looked like grime and blown up alien intestines?

"I don't even want to know what happened," Lois chuckled, while Martha hugged her son and he kissed the side of her cheek before she scrunched up her nose in disgust at how awful he smelled.

"Well, I guess I'll draw you a bath, you two can talk out here until the baths ready." Both Clark and Lois watched as Martha Kent disappeared into the home and he smiled, when Lois spoke again.

"FYI, she is at the orchard, harvesting the apples for an apple pie," Lois gave him a smug look, fluttering her lashes, "Oh don't pretend you don't want to see her. I can see your eyes darting around, trying to find her. I'll be inside, both of you, just come back in for supper."

He nodded, watching Lois leave and slowly, his fists clenched on either of his sides, he found his way into the tiny orchard that his lovely wife loved to spend most of her time at. He fixed himself by the wooden gate, his eyes admiring you from afar, as you stood on your tiptoes and picked out apples, tossing them into the basket that you held in your arm.

"Need help, Mrs. Kent?"

The basket dropped from your hand as you turned towards the source of the voice, your lips parted in shock. Clark's eyes travelled from you down to your beautiful swollen bump that your loose maternity dress was doing nothing to hide. He chuckled at your response as he walked towards you with longer, faster steps while you simply waddled towards him.

"Jesus, Clark-- I thought you'd miss the birth," you cupped your husband's cheeks in between your swollen fingers as he nuzzled his nose against yours, before kissing you.

"How is my monkey?" He brought his palm to rest against your nine month old baby bump, stroking over the fabric as he whispered against your lips.

"Moving around, not letting me get an ounce of sleep," you smiled, letting your fingers rest over his hand that rested against your stomach, "but I cant really complain now, can I? After all the little nugget's got Kryptonian blood running through their veins."

Clark chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling slightly as he knelt down in front of you, his face in line with the base of your bump as he planted a kiss on the curve of it.

"Come on, Kal Jr, will you stop bothering your mom? She needs all the sleep she can before you push your way into the world and steal our goodnight sleeps for a while," you smiled warmly, as you peered down at him, running your fingers through his hair and he looked up at you, planting another kiss against your bump.

You suddenly frowned and looked at the brown mess on your fingers that stank.

"God, Clark? What the hell? Did you seriously take a dive in a shit pool?"

He chuckled as he pulled himself up again and his hand once again found the base of your stomach to lay his hand protectively upon.

"Alien blood. You should have seen the intestines that covered me. It looked like noddles dipped in black bean sauce and meatballs--" You smacked him hard against the chest to shut him up, but instead he began laughing, his laughter rumbling out of his stomach as you began dragging him inside with his stained cape.

[bukojuiice]

i like you a latte. ➸ coffee shop au headcanons

ೃ pairings: (izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, and shoto todoroki x reader)

ೃ  tags: headcanons, coffee shop au!

ೃ warnings:  none

ೃ word count 4572 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​ @sparkykatsuki​ @ramunegoddess, @serossimpy

- Katsuki Bakugo

-        Being a barista or just someone who works in a coffee shop in general, leads to a lot of unexpected things.

-        You meet and interact with a lot of busy people every single day. They come and they go.

-        Anything could absolutely happen.

-        But did it ever cross your mind that amongst all these busy people who flock in and out of the café, that you’d fall in love with one of them? Nope.

-        That was until a particularly handsome spiky-haired blonde came crashing into the door with his chaotic friends at his tail, pushing him to confess his feelings to you.

-        How did this come to be? Why you of all people?

-        Bakugo and his squad frequently visit a café that you work in as a barista.

-        You were one to take note of every regular customer you see.

-        You do it for fun most of the time and it’s nice to observe people, especially at a very social job such as this.

-        Katsuki and his friends were a bit loud and stood out in particular. They were good-intentioned people and they looked like they were very fun to be with.

-        They immediately piqued your interest as soon as you saw them line up at the counter, chattering away, their personalities clashing with each other with the way they talked, yet they looked like they were all still the best of friends.

-        Kaminari noticing how cute and pretty you are, and decided to hit on you. Pulling a very lame romantic coffee pun that you’ve heard time and time again.

-        His red-headed friend who was a few places away from him, bonked him in the head for being a weirdo again.

-        You brush him off jokingly, ignoring his pleas and side remarks until he finally tells you his order and apologizes. (Not only for embarrassing himself, but also to you for having to put up with a lame joke.)

-        When it was time for the blonde to order, you notice his expression soften and his voice go low. and as oblivious as you were, you just took it as a casual customer who was just being courteous and respectful to baristas like you.

-        But, you were very very wrong. There was meaning in it all along.

-        “One Pumpkin Spice Latte please.” He announces his order, looking away from you, whilst you can hear his friends snickering behind you as if they were teasing him about something.

-        “Will that be all?” You smile, calculating his order onto the cash register.

-        “Yes.” He nods solemnly, then hands his payment to you.

-        “Name please?”

-        “Katsuki.”

-        Ever since that warm spring day in March, the blonde would visit almost every day.

-        Sometimes with or without his friends, sometimes just dropping by to get his usual drink or staying until closing hours, sometimes ordering his usual Pumpkin Spice Latter or some other drink that surprises you, and sometimes with a book on his hand or typing away on his laptop.

-        And- you never got tired of seeing him.

-        For all the people who come in and out of this establishment, he was special.

-        He became someone whom you couldn’t get out of your head, someone who you were excited to see after a tiring day, and he became a sort of reminder to you as to why you came to love this job in the first place.

-        In fact, you’ve grown to like him by just merely observing him.

-        Sure, there were times when you’d go up to his table and interact with him. Engaging in small talk, albeit sometimes he didn’t seem interested, but you knew he was listening.

-        You wanted to interact with him more than just idle chit chat. More than just asking if he enjoyed his drink or if he need an extra fork or straw. You wanted it to be more than just that.

-        Katsuki feels the same too, but with how unfriendly and aggressive he may look sometimes, he has no idea how to interact with you either. Maybe, he might hurt your feelings or maybe you might misinterpret something he says, prompting you to not approach him anymore.

-        Maybe for the first time in his life, he needed to appreciate and be contented with the little things. No matter how insignificant or trifling they may be, he had to be content with what he has with you right now.

-        That was until today.

-        You take a tray from the counter, and place Katsuki’s drink on it. You walk slowly to his table, showing him your usual smile, sliding his drink off your tray and putting it down on his table. “Enjoy your drink Katsuki-san!” Next, you place tissues and his usual order of honey-glazed donut (in contrast to his every day order of pumpkin spice latte)

-        When… your hand brushed with his.

-        You hear yourself squeal in place, slowly taking back your hand and apologizing. “Ah, I’m s-sorry! Anywho, enjoy your drink!”

-        “Wait.” He grabs your wrist. His touch, soft and gentle, giving you a very different feeling that you would usually feel from a guy like him. “Can I ask for your name?”

-        “Oh. It’s (Y/N)! It’s nice to meet you Katsuki-san! Bye!” You cover your face, running back to the counter to attend to another customer’s order, leaving his table before he was even able to say another word.

-        It was a week before he came back to the coffee shop after that day.

-        You counted the days when he didn’t visit, and because of that, you were in a rather damp and sad mood ever since. Maybe he wanted to tell you something? Maybe he was about to tell you he was never going back to the coffee shop again? Maybe he took the gesture of you running away from him as a sign that you weren’t interested in talking to him that’s why he didn’t bother coming back?

-        It was a regular Tuesday. Taco Tuesday actually. You decided to stop counting the days that Katsuki didn’t visit, maybe he really was gone now.

-        Your eyes lit up at the sight of Katsuki entering the café with his friends. A pink-haired girl, obviously points at you, nudging her blonde friend in the arm. “Go for it! What’s stopping you from talking to her!?”

-        You pay them no mind and divert your attention back to the customer in front of you. Although you were waiting for them to get in line and attend to them.

-        You hear their voices from the back of the line growing louder and louder as they got closer to the counter. You couldn’t help but shake your head and chuckle at the sight of seeing them.

-        “Hi (Y/N=chan)!” Mina beams. Kirishima and Kaminari had their arm around Bakugo’s shoulder at both sides whilst Sero was behind Bakugo making sure he had no chance of escape. “My friend, Bakubro, here wanted to ask you something!”

-        “Sure.” You give them your signature smile. “Is there something up?”

-        “Ooooh! He wants to ask you if-“

-        “Could you guys shut up for a second!?” He turns to his friends, shooting all of them a glare, and you swear you could see him pop a vein on his head. His friends simmer down and hand you a note with all of their orders instead, as they retreat to a table within earshot of the two of you. They flash Katsuki a thumbs up before trying their best to not eavesdrop.

-        He collects himself first, taking a deep breath before finally speaking again.

-        “I was wondering… if you’re free sometime?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking away from you as to not show the cute and dorky blush present on his face. “If you’re not interested though then-“

-        You giggle, reaching for the cup of his pumpkin spice latte and writing something down on it. You put down the orders of his friends on a tray then hand it over to him. “Let’s talk about it later… If that’s okay with you?”

-        He nods, a puzzled look on his face, as he gets out of the line.

-        You notice his friends were about to jump for joy as soon as their explosive blonde friend approach their table, Kirishima grabs Katsuki’s pumpkin spice latte before he takes a sip, then notices what you had written on there. “OH MY GOD!?”

-        “BAKUBRO! SHE GAVE YOU HER NUMBER!?”

-        “WAIT!? WHAT!?” He reaches for his drink, stealing it from his red-headed friend, reading the contents of the cup.

-        You notice him blushing as his friends burst into a fit of laughter. “SMOOTH MOOVES, KATSUKI! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING! YOU WERE THAT OBIVIOUUS!” they continue to tease him as he registers your number into his cellphone.

-        “START EATING YOU LOSERS! WE HAVE A LECTURE WITH A SHITTY PROFESSOR AT 10 AM.”

-        “yeah~ yeah~ yeah~”

-        You giggle at the sight of them relentlessly teasing him still.

-        At the end of your shift, you finally check your phone to be greeted to a text by Katsuki.

-        “Hey (Y/N). Is Friday good with you? I noticed that you don’t work at the café during Fridays, and I wanted to confirm if that’s one of your free days?”

“Of course! And, yes, it is! Can’t wait to see you for the first time out of the café by then!  (´｡• ω •｡`)”

-        “Yeah… see you.”

 - Shoto Todoroki

-        Why is the owner of the coffee shop near your university have to be this hot?

-        The girls around campus call him the Coffee Prince for a reason.

-        Who gave him the right? Who gave him the right to arrive at the very café he owns in a dashing black coat that he matched with a black (sometimes grey) turtleneck, his defined and toned muscles clearly perking from underneath, an expensive watch in his wrist, and some doc. Martens boots to complete the look.

-        Who gave him the right to be this handsome?

-        Did I mention that he’s also a student at the same university you go to?

-        Did I also mention that he sometimes manages the cash register? And how everyone and their mothers flock to the café as soon as they see him at the counter?

-        Shoto Todoroki.

-        That was his name.

-        The youngest son of the Todoroki family who owns pretty much about every corporate building and company in the city.

-        Yet, here he was, managing his little own café. Clearly not interested in the business world that his entire family had built.

-        It was large yet quaint coffee shop, not only were the drinks crafted with love and care along with the snacks and food you can order, but it was also the wonderful smell of scented pinecones wafting around the café. It was heaven. (Just like all coffee shops are, but this one in particular has a special place in your heart, and it’s not JUST because of the handsome man that owns this café.)

-        Shoto was different and a very hands-on kind of guy. If he wasn’t managing the counter, he would be making drinks, messing around in the kitchen, and bringing out yummy cookies and other amazingly baked goods (that he made) as the dish and the dessert of the day.

-        He was very kind to his staff. Making sure the energy was always light and happy. Joking around with them, helping them out, and with the occasional outbursts that customers have, he quickly handles the situation with ease.

-        He was perfect in more ways than one. And with that, he was very much out of your league.

-        Although your friends would encourage you, it wasn’t enough for you to push through with it and talk to him.

-        Besides, it’s not like he has time to talk with customers on a daily basis right? He was a busy man and a college student just like you.

-        You were just like everyone else. Helplessly in love with a guy like him. The rich and handsome young man who looked like he came straight out of a romantic comedy.

-        There is a 0.0001% chance he would even notice you. Why bother trying to compete when there’s so much competition? You weren’t main character material at all. Why would he notice you then?

-        In some days, when busines is slow and the café is quiet, you see him working at the farthest table in the corner, near the charging station. He had a stern and serious face, very much focused on his laptop, typing away, while sipping on a cup of coffee from time to time.

-        Although this happened very rarely since the café was usually packed 24/7.

-        But, when days were extremely slow, these were the perfect times to just admire him from afar.

-        His handsome features, half-and-half colored hair, and his beautiful heterochromatic eyes…

-        Sometimes, he would run his fingers through his hair, and you feel your heart stop every time he does it, that you can’t even focus on the project you were doing.

-        Unbeknownst to you, he too would sneak glances at you from time to time.

-        Maybe, Shoto Todoroki wasn’t the type of guy who would fall in love with the main heroine.

-        Maybe, he wasn’t that kind of person after all this time of thinking that he is.

-        As books and clichés go, maybe you just had to read in between the lines.

-        To notice that he too was in love with you all this time.

-        “Earth to (y/n)?” Ochaco waves a hand in front of you. No answer. The girl huffs and starts to pack up her things. But, before she leaves, at a last attempt to wake you up from your trip to space, she whispers loud enough for you to hear.

-        “Is that Mr. Shoto Todoroki I see shirtless in the corner!?”

-        “You won’t be able to trick me with that Ochaco-chan.” You snap back into reality, shaking your head at your best friend’s failed attempt at trying to get your attention.

-        She winks and grins at you in disbelief. “Still gotcha there love. I’m about to head off to my next lecture, will you be staying here?”

-        “Yup. It’s not too crowded today anyway, and I also need to catch up on my lessons.”

-        “Mkay! I’ll tell Tsuyu and the others to head here after class! See you!” Your brown-haired friend waves goodbye, a ringing bell at the door signaling that she left the premises.

-        You watch Ochaco’s walking figure as she leaves. But, once you turn to sneak a glance at Shoto, you catch his gaze.

-        Oh. my. God.

-        He was looking at you too.

-        You grin sheepishly, waving gingerly at him. “H-hi Todoroki-san…”

-        He returns the greeting by nodding at you, as he gets back to doing his work. (trying to keep his cool as you obviously caught him staring back at you.)

-        You frown as soon as he averts his gaze. Much like him, you go back to focus on the pile of learning materials you had to go through.

-        Someone suddenly enters the store, disrupting you from your studies yet again with how loud they shut the door behind them. Shoto was also annoyed and alerted by this, keeping an eye on the sleazy guy who had just entered his precious establishment.

-        The guy approaches you, shooting you a glare. “This is my seat. Get out.”

-        “Excuse me? I was here first. I don’t see your name anywhere you a-“

-        “What did you say!?” The sleazebag attempts to grab you by the wrist forcefully, trying to drag you out of the table by first. But, before he could, you notice someone grab his arm first, pushing him away from you.

-        “Who the hell are you!?”

-        You look up to see Shoto shielding you, his hand gripping onto the guy’s wrist. You feel your heart beat rapidly at the sight of his tall and well-built figure standing in front of you.

-        “The owner of this café. There are a lot of unoccupied seats in the area that you can sit in, as you can see. Unless you’re blind that is.”

-        “Excuse me!? What kind of asshole are you!? Ain’t the customer always right!? I’m never going back to this shitty establishment!” He flips Shoto off before storming out of the store.

-        Shoto sighs and then turns to you. “Are you okay?” His hand tries to reach out for you, but he hesitates, and stops before you notice him doing so. “Did he hurt you anywhere?”

-        “Ah no. Not really. Don’t worry.” You wave your hands in assurance, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks. “Thank you, Todoroki-san. You didn’t have to do that.”

-        “I had to. You’re an…“ He pauses for a second, as if trying to collect his words and trying his best to not slip up in front of you. “Important customer. I couldn’t stand to see anybody be hurt like that.”

-        “Important customer?” You look at him in disbelief. You turn away from him, trying to process what he had just said. “I’m just another regular old customer who frequents your café. How can I be of importance when nothing stands out about me?”

-        Shoto raises his finger, telling you to wait a moment, and then leaves your table. He collects his things from the place he usually sits at and heads over to sit on the chair opposite of yours. Sitting down on the seat, he brings out his laptop and places his coffee mug on the table.

-        You blink and tilt your head. But on the inside, you wanted to yeet yourself into space because here he was, the guy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year, face to face, your face meters away from his, and the two of you trying to study in peace like some lovey dovey university couple.

-        The two of you continue to make idle chit-chat while working on your respective tasks. You told him your name and in turn, he told you to stop being so formal with him, saying that you calling him Shoto was fine.  He was fun to be with despite the fact that the two of you were quiet throughout the entire time.

-        Time does fly when you’re with your crush, that you didn’t notice it was time for your next lecture. You were about to stand up from your seat when Shoto suddenly speaks.

 -        “(Y/N).” He says sternly. You look up from your computer, continuing to fold it and stuff it in your bag. “Yes?” You reply.

 -        “I was wondering if you wanted to be study buddies? I notice you studying alone most of the time whenever the café isn’t busy, and I think it would be less lonely if we shared a table. Only if you want to though…” He says ever so casually, as if nothing fazes him. Even though on the inside, he was about to die of embarrassment thinking about what would happen if you said no.

 -        “Of course! I’d love to!” You reply coolly, trying to not act like you were about to explode of happiness on the spot. “See you tomorrow, then?” You stand up from your seat, slinging your backpack on your shoulders.

 -        “Yup. See you.” He waves goodbye, watching you leave his café. As soon as you were out of earshot, he breathes a sigh of relief, mouthing a joyful “yes!” as he goes back to what he was doing, and he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the day.

 -        You did the same too. As soon as Shoto wasn’t within reach, you smile widely, squealing, and clutching your journal to your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t believe that actually happened.”

 -        This was it. The start of something new.

 -        Your love story with the Coffee Prince was about to begin.

 - Izuku Midoriya

-        Izuku Midoriya is the cute and hardworking barista who works at your favorite café that you and your friends visit every day.

-        Aoyama and Ochaco call him the “matcha haired cutie” for some reason, even though the color of his hair?? is far?? from the color?? of actual matcha??  

-        Even from afar, he just looks like the most precious cinnamon roll ever?? And your heart just can’t stop fluttering at the thought of seeing him every time you drop by to get a cup of coffee.

-        Pls why must this boy be so cute? his floofy dark green-hair do be making all the ladies swoon

-        The coffee shop is flooded with customers every time it’s his shift. Most of them are regulars who find him really sweet + adorable and they spend way too much time at the counter trying to make idle chat with “izuku” (as seen on his name tag) and it’s really annoying.

-        Some bold and confident regulars attempt to ask for his number, but izuku politely refuses.

-        Which means more chances of winning for you (even though you’re in the same level of interaction with izuku as all these other people)

-        When you come up to the counter however, his smile feels different. He shows you a smile that feels so warm and comforting. A smile that reminds you of home. a smile that makes you forget the stress put upon you by college just for a little while.

-        You notice that he adds extra whipped cream and some chocolate sprinkles to your frappe from time to time and you have no idea if this is intentional or if he just does it by accident.

-        Either way, your friends are convinced that it is intentional and it’s some sort of love language/special treatment that baristas have for customers they have a soft spot for.

-        You always greet him warmly. “good morning izuku-kun! How are you today?”

-        He immediately beams at you. “Good morning! It’s been a great day so far! may I take your order?” You then proceed to recite your usual drink.

-        It’s the littlest things and the smallest gestures that matter after all.

-        Sometimes you would space out whilst at the register, not knowing you were next in line (most of the time it’s because you’re trying to think of something witty to say to him)

-        He smiles at the sight of seeing you, “hi! will it be the usual?”

-        “a-ah yes. I’m sorry for spacing out there.”

-        “it’s alright! I feel you! it happens to me all the time too actually!”

-        His smile. His cute little freckles, his friendly aura, and just his entire presence in general. There’s just something about him that draws you in.

-        He reminds you of a little daisy amongst a field of different flowers. pure, bright and very pleasant. Just swaying with the wind and perfectly content with life.

-       If he arrives early from uni, you see him chilling at the mini library of the café and is usually seen engrossed in a classical novel (you’ve noticed he’s been reading a lot of jane austen, franz kafka, f. scott fitzgerald and arthur conan doyle novels recently!)

-        For some reason, when he’s out of his whole barista uniform, no one seems to notice him. It’s like he fades into the background.

-        He’s able to enjoy the peace and solace that loneliness brings, with a frappe or an expresso usually at the table next to him along with a pile of other books.

-        At the insistence of your friends, you decide to approach him and have small talk.

-        That was enough to make you happy even just for a moment.

-        “hi there izu-kun! It’s nice to see you out of your popular barista persona for the day.”

-        “oh? hi (y/n)!”

-        “wait… you know my name?” you immediately feel a faint tint of pink appear on your cheeks, trying your best to hide it from him by covering your mouth until it fades.

-        “of course! i asked one of your friends who regularly visit the shop. Your blonde friend? The one that has these sparkles around him that follow him everywhere?”

-        “aoyama…” you grit your teeth, muttering under your breath.

-        “anyway, would you like to have a seat? It’d be nice to have some company.” he pats the cushion next to him, scooting over to the other side of the sofa.

-        You slowly sit down, feeling yourself shaking a little bit because you had absolutely no idea he even ACTUALLY knew your name and what you had originally wished for, which was just a normal interaction with him, would ESCALATE to this.

-        “What are you reading?” you turn to him, trying to take a peek.

-        “Pride and Prejudice!” he grins, scratching his head sheepishly. “I know it’s not the typical book that you’d expect someone like me to read out in public like this, but mr darcy and elizabeth’s romance throughout the book makes me feel giddy. They’re such a good couple and they’re written so well!”

-        “they are! The dumb English lit major in me wrote a 40-page doc just talking about their love and other classical couples seen in novels! There’s just something about them that makes the book worth reading time and time again!”

-        “Y-yeah…”

-        You notice him grow flustered and nervous all of a sudden and you can’t help but shoot him a puzzled look. “is something wrong Izu-kun?”

-        “I-I actually want to recommend this to you!” He hands you a small and slightly worn book with no cover or title in it. He then takes a look at his watch, his eyes growing wide. “A-ah! It’s time for my shift!” He stands up from the couch, but before he properly leaves, he turns to you and smiles his precious smile again. “see you later (y/n)!” he waves then quickly takes a beeline to the back of the café.

-        You wave back. watching his figure growing smaller and smaller until his disappears when he enters the backdoor.

-        You sigh and start to skim thru the pages of the book, when you notice a yellow sticky note inside.

-        “Words cannot expresso how much you mean to me. Would you like to go out sometime?”

-        And you swear, at that moment, you feel your heart about to combust from happiness. Squealing internally, you hide your flustered expression by digging your face inside the book, not to be seen by anyone else.

-        You were going to savor this moment.

[svchengss]

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed. 

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”. 

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started. 

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers. 

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside. 

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting  about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made. 

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited. 

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out. 

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded. 

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party -  jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home. 

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically. 

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone. 

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it. 

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made. 

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted. 

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets. 

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you. 

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck. 

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence. 

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers. 

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less. 

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy. 

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home. 

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave. 

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him. 

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more. 

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days. 

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated. 

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-” 

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more? 

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands. 

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening. 

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back. 

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air. 

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure. 

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair. 

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him. 

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence. 

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. 

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

[michaelgovehateblog]

Piggy in the Middle

Queen Elizabeth x Michael Gove, Michael Gove x Matt Hancock, 1500 words

“Michael Gove and Sarah Vine to divorce.” She knew it was bad, but Elizabeth’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when she saw the headlines. She had spent years forcing herself to ignore how she really felt about Michael and pretending the flirty looks and comments they shared were meaningless or all in her head; after all, they were both married, and publicly at that, especially in the case of her and Philip. And it’s not that she didn’t love Philip, because she of course did, but there was something about Gove and his pig-like face that just drew her in. And now she was rid of Philip, and Michael and Sarah were splitting up – maybe there was a chance for them.

Not that they would be able to go public with it if anything even did happen between them. As far as the country knew, Elizabeth was still mourning Philip, just putting on a brave face and soldiering on without him. The public probably wouldn’t be able to deal with her moving on so soon. She sighed – her life as a parasite was so difficult.

Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts she almost didn’t hear the knock at her door, and subsequent voice.

“Your Majesty? It’s 12, we’re scheduled to leave now.”

“Of course, I’m coming now.” She responded, and stood up to leave, making sure to glance in the mirror to check she still looked presentable. Everything was still pristine: icy white grey hairs all perfectly in place and nude lipstick completely un-smudged. She was wearing a long royal blue (her signature colour) coat with large buttons of a slightly softer blue colour, all of which were done up. This was worn over a classy floral-patterned dress, which wasn’t visible under the jacket. Perched on top of her head was an elaborate hat made from material the exact same colour as the coat and adorned with white and blue flowers. The shoes she wore were a standard pair of elegant black heels and the look was finished off with a pair of black gloves.

Satisfied the outfit was perfectly uncreased as always, Elizabeth left the room to head to the whatever event it was this time, she didn’t really care. Mostly she just showed up at these things for a bit of good PR and so people would continue believe she works hard and really cares about the common people (Which she didn’t obviously. Why would she.) Although, she was certain that someone had told her that this event would have many politicians also in attendance, so she was hopeful that she might encounter a certain cabinet member.

As per usual, Elizabeth was finding the event mind-numbingly boring, just endless shaking hands with forgettable people she was supposed to pretend to be interested in. But then she spotted him. And at the same moment she saw him, Michael glanced in her direction and they were making direct eye contact. She gave him a shy smile, which he returned as he started walking towards her, not breaking eye contact.

“Your Majesty,” said Michael, extending his arm to shake hands, “How are you today?” They shook hands, Michael noticing how dry and wrinkly Elizabeth’s felt, and her in turn mentally noting the bizarre clamminess of his, both of which only increased each person’s attraction to the other.

“I’m doing wonderfully,” she responded, “And thoroughly enjoying this lovely event.” she made sure to add, aware of how many people were probably in earshot. “But what about yourself? I heard the news. It must be a difficult time for you.”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this; he couldn’t believe that the Queen actually cared enough about him to pay attention to the news about him and his (soon to be ex) wife. He had always felt there was some kind of connection between the two of them but told himself he was imagining it – what other option did he have. But unusually for his cowardly personality, he got a sudden burst of confidence, and was shocked to hear himself talking.

“Ma’am, I think I need to step outside to get some fresh air. Would you be interested in joining me for a walk?” He hadn’t had confidence to do anything like that since his coked-up days of 20 years ago. Well, he always said 20 years ago, but those close to him, such as Matt Hancock, knew he was prone to enjoy a smidge of the substance of an evening.

“Yes, I would enjoy that a lot.” replied Elizabeth, much to Michael’s delight. He offered out his elbow, purely out of politeness, of course, which she accepted, outwardly calmly but very eagerly inside. A walk outside would probably mean time properly alone, where other people couldn’t hear them, something they had probably never had before.

They continued small talk for a while, about the event and such, until they were far enough away from the general crowds for more intimate conversation.

"How have you been coping, Ma'am, without the Prince? Such an unexpected shame, his untimely demise like that. It was truly a shock to all of us."

Right, 'untimely'. Elizabeth often forgot that Philip's death was supposed to be something entirely unexpected for her, not something she knew would happen down to the exact time and place.

"Missing him, of course, but life has to go on. And it's strange to remember that I am single again, after all these years. That's not been the case since I was 13 and Philip was an adult."

"Yes, it's the same for me, minus the questionable age difference. I’ve been married to Sarah for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to meet other people - and be with other people...” at these words the two made eye contact, neither knowing what to say aloud but having an entire unspoken conversation.

“Mr Gove… Or Michael, may I call you Michael? Would you be interested in visiting the Palace for dinner sometime soon? I could give you a personal tour of the grounds.”

“Yes, Ma’am, of course you can call me Michael,” Almost unthinkingly, the pair faced each other and reached for each other's hands. “And I would be honoured to visit the palace, Ma’am.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, “Please, no need to bother with the formalities, at least not whilst nobody else is listening. Call me Elizabeth. Now, we should probably head back inside to the event, we’ve been out here a while, people will be missing me. They basically worship me. But I’ll get someone to contact you about your visit to the palace - I’d do it myself, only that sort of thing is far beneath me.” A smile spread over Michael’s pig-mannequin hybrid face as they made their way back inside.

What they hadn’t realised during their encounter, was that it wasn’t as private as they had thought; in fact another politician had been lurking and watching the entire scene.And he wasn’t happy about what he saw. As soon as Elizabeth and Michael walked off in separate directions, Matt Hancock quickly grabbed Gove by the arm and dragged him into a quiet corridor.

“Hancock.”

“Gove. I saw you outside just now, heard you talking with a certain monarch. The two of you seemed quite friendly.”

“Oh. Right. I hadn’t thought anyone else had been outside. You won’t - you won’t tell anyone what you saw or heard, will you?”

“I won’t. But only because it’s you, if it had been anybody else, I would be telling the sun immediately. The queen’s new love interest, I couldn’t hope for anything better to get the tabloids off my back. But because it’s you - I couldn’t hurt you like that.”

“Matt, what do you mean? Why are you making an exception for me?”

“Govey, as if you don’t know. You must have realised how I feel about you.” Hancock stepped closer to Gove and in his mind’s eye, imagined the Sims social interactions menu, and pictured selecting ‘kiss’. (It was from looking at the characters in the game, after all, that he learnt to kiss in the first place. The mindset and techniques stuck with him.) To his delight, he felt Michael kissing him back. Matt deepened the kiss and their tongues battled for dominance. Suddenly, Michael pulled away and stared, speechless, at Matt.

After about half a minute unable to muster any coherent thoughts (not even coherent by conservative standards) Gove turned away and briskly walked to an empty room, where he could sit alone and process all of what just happened. Not only was he certain now that Elizabeth felt the same spark that he did, but Hancock, whom he had secretly had a low-level affection for for many years, had just snogged him out of jealousy? He didn’t expect to be wrapped up in a love triangle the very day his divorce was announced, and yet it seemed that was what was happening. His years of being an incompetent and sleazy politician had clearly earned him some admirers.

~~

If you made it to the end, I'm only partly sorry for what you just read. I would be willing to write a second chapter if for some godforsaken reason somebody actually would want to read one. This took me far too long to write for something that is honestly not that many words but I feel like it's understandable, given the subject matter. k bye

[inkformyblood]

You Speak Of Grace

Commander Cody Week Day 02 Origins [ @commandercodyweek ]

Pairing: Codywan

Summary: Cody is about to meet his new Jedi, but he will make sure his men are as prepared as they can be. Little does he know that Obi-Wan is anything but what he was expecting.

“Once more.” Cody’s voice rang out as the test alarms died away, eliciting a fresh wave of groans from the assembled clones. From behind his helmet, Cody glanced over the group, running through the list in his mind once again. The heavy gloves hid the faint trembling of his hands as his fingers danced over the datapad, drawing up another scenario. “Test Scenario 00726. Oya!”

Distantly, Cody could almost hear Alpha-17’s low rumbling laugh echo forth from his memory at their displays of grumbling compliance. He carefully ignored the brother at the back — Crys, he thought, judging from the bright yellow daubed over his pauldrons and the dark hair growing up through the unnatural yellow dye — who ducked behind a console and emerged after swallowing down the last dregs of his caf.

The consoles rang shrilly as they ran through the necessary checks once more, heads lowered as the other clones focused on their own work. Cody sensed movement just behind him, but didn’t turn, watching the grey painted shape of Helix, their medic, move up behind him in the reflection of a console.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Helix’s voice was soft but no less filled with purpose, expecting to be heard and understood. Cody was the Commander of the Battalion, but Helix was the medic, and that was something entirely different.

“Granted.”

Helix tapped the comm on his wrist, shifting to a private channel, and Cody stifled the reflexive twinge of fear that rattled down his spine. Fear was useful, Alpha-17 had barked at the younger clones in the Command Track, echoing the words of the trainers before him, but it was also dangerous. Drawing in a deep breath, letting it flow through him rather than rule his thoughts, Cody switched to the private channel as well.

“You are doing a good job,” Helix murmured, his voice slightly distorted over the comm. “You are already a good commander, and having a Jedi won’t change that.”

Cody didn’t respond, didn’t want to think about what Helix could read in the sudden stillness of his hands or the lines of tension that flickered into life along his shoulders, but merely nodded, his throat tight.

Helix lightly tapped the back of his wrist guard against Cody’s hip in a silent benediction. “I’m going to head down to medical. Over the next few days, I’ll need to check on the troopers and the Jedi to get a baseline.”

“I’ll draw up a rota,” Cody promised, adding yet another item onto his mental checklist. Dimly, he spared a thought for how his brothers in the command track were faring. Their own comms channel had been eerily quiet since they had received their battalion allocations and left in the early hours of the morning with one final message each of “Oya”.

“Appreciate it,” Helix said with an inclination of his head and stepped away. The other medics, Border and Patience, shadowed him like ghosts, barely half a step behind in a haunting unison that would have made the trainers proud.

Cody turned back to the men, tracking their progress as they worked through the machines, feeling a warm glow of pride settle in his chest. This would work. This had to work.

A warning prickled at the base of his skull, and Cody was already turning to face the doorway by the time his mind had drawn the context clues together.

As Helix left, his pace had slowed slightly, and the soft whoosh of the doors closing took longer than it should have. One of the troopers had raised his head, gaze fixed at something over Cody’s shoulder as one of his hands formed the beginning of the symbol for ‘Mother’, a warning of being watched back on Kamino. But the critical clue was the message flashing from the Command Track Chat from Bly that only read ‘oh no my Jedi’s hot.’

“Hello there.”

“Hello, sir,” Cody said, running on instinct as the rest of his mind went blissfully blank. The only information he had been given was a name and a grainy holo picture to recognise his Jedi by. A small thrill ran down his spine at that thought. Possession was still something all the clones were getting used to, and the knowledge that this man was his, was theirs, was more than Cody could have thought possible.

“Jetti on bridge,” Cody barked over his shoulder to the others, feeling the weight of their eyes on his back.

Obi-Wan smiled, the edges of his eyes — so unbelievably blue, like the point where the ocean met the sky — crinkling. “Please, Commander, call me Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody repeated with a nod, further committing it to memory. He was grateful for the helmet that was still covering his head as he felt the heat settle in his cheeks. Full armour was cumbersome for now, but it had been better to be safe than sorry.

“From what I understand, you have names as well?” Obi-Wan’s gaze darted around the room; his voice pitched low. “I don’t wish to cause any offence; this situation is very new to me.” He tucked his hands into his sleeves, clasping them in front of him.

“CC-2224 is my designation. But my name is Cody, sir.”

It was as if Cody’s words ripped the oxygen from the room, every trooper freezing in place in perfect military rest. Obi-Wan had to feel the pressure lowering onto his shoulders, but he merely grinned once more.

“Cody. That’s an excellent name and a good choice.” Obi-Wan paused, glancing around the room and meeting the gaze of every trooper who quickly lowered their heads back to their consoles at Cody’s signal.

“I trust I can count on you to keep me right, Cody? I will defer to your expertise.” Obi-Wan’s grin was as warm as sunlight, intoxicating when it was directed at just Cody, and he felt his cheeks burst with heat once more.

“Yessir,” Cody said, snapping back into parade rest out of habit.

“I’m not sure what the Kamioans have told you, but if you’re amenable, full armour outside of active combat isn’t required.” Obi-Wan paused with a heavy sigh, looking far older than he was for a moment before he pushed whatever memory it was away. “This isn’t my first war, but no need to make it harder than it needs to be.”

“So,” Cody swallowed, turning his head slightly to track Boil and Waxer’s whispering, their heads pressed together out of the corner of his eye, “Permission to dismiss the men to store their extras?”

“Permission more than granted, Commander.”

If Cody had thought that his mind went blank before, it was nothing compared to being alone on the bridge with Obi-Wan. In every scenario, every training simulation or exercise, nothing could have prepared him for this moment. Alpha-17 and the others took after Prime almost perfectly, and that applied to his lack of attraction as well, at best able to offer rough support to a heartbroken trooper in basic training.

Obi-Wan began to move around the bridge, glancing over the simulated manoeuvres that had been programmed in with a gleam of interest in his eyes. “If you want, Cody, you can store your belongings as well. We’re going to be working together for a while, and I see no reason to start out with extreme formality.”

Cody’s hands were steady as he reached up to remove his helmet, subtly pressing at the itch that had erupted two hours ago at the nape of his skull as he did so. Obi-Wan’s face softened as he watched him, unable to hide the obvious curiosity in his eyes.

“I can definitely see the resemblance.”

Cody laughed, the noise startled out of him, jaw snapping shut with a click.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he began, but Obi-Wan cut him off with a wave of his hand, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

“Please, don’t apologise, Cody. If there is anyone at fault, then it is me.”

“No, sir.” Cody paused to find the correct words, tapping his fingers against the edge of the datapad as he thought. This wasn’t what he had been expecting, Obi-Wan wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he always had been quick on his feet. “As you said, no reason to start out with extreme formality. No fault here.”

Obi-Wan hummed quietly as he thought, and Cody took a moment to inspect the Jedi he would be serving under. The robes hid much of his frame, but Obi-Wan had moved with confidence, despite the fact that the fabric wouldn’t give much protection or possibly act as a hindrance. Cody made another note on his mental list, needing to confer with the other Commanders once everyone had settled again.

“I think this is going to be an excellent partnership, Cody,” Obi-Wan said at last. “With that in mind, with the full reassurance that you can tell me no at any time for whatever reason, would you like to join me for a cup of tea? I believe there is some final paperwork to go over.”

“Yessir,” Cody answered before the full implication hit him. Obi-Wan would be sharing, even serving most likely, something precious of his, something he had deliberately chosen to bring aboard a battleship, knowing the cargo restrictions. “I’d be honoured.”

“Excellent! Anakin, my padawan—” Obi-Wan paused, and Cody wordlessly fell into pace at his side, a few inches shorter than the other man as he titled his head to continue watching him, “—he never quite got the taste for it, unfortunately.”

“I am looking forward to it, sir.”

Obi-Wan gave him a look, his grin all fond curled edges.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody corrected himself. He felt like a fool to hope, but it was a hope he held onto tightly.

Out of sight, Cody tapped a message into the Command Chat before silencing it, knowing the explosions it would spawn. ‘Mine’s better, vod.’

[rayofsunas]

chasm | albedo

A/n: hi everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe <33 as you can see, I’m back on my albedo bs, so I decided to write this out finally 🥺🥺 and omg let me just say, I love this so much! . thank you to my very special anon “🌱” you know who you are, for requesting this! ❤️ I’ve decided the reader is female, but if anyone would like a male or gender neutral version, let me know! I also kinda did my own take on this since it’s not explained what Albedo’s “darker side” is. enjoy everyone!! ❤️

Summary: albedo has been gone for an awfully long time, somewhere in Dragonspine. you’re worried about him, naturally, so you go look for him. he’s refusing help for some odd reason, and you find that he’s having trouble. you let him know you’d never even think of leaving his side, no matter what.

Parings: Albedo/Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

The ashy blonde hadn’t been down from Dragonspine in weeks, nearly a full four months. And you couldn’t lie, you were growing worried. 

It wasn’t unusual, pretty typical behavior for the genius alchemist actually. But, by now he would’ve sent a letter of some sort, clueing somebody in on his whereabouts, if he needed more supplies, etc. He hadn’t done that yet. And you were afraid he probably wouldn’t. 

Sucrose was the last to speak to him, which happened to be two months ago when he sent her down the mountains, back to Mondstadt. She had told you that he was fine when she left, busy dissecting some strange specimen he’d found. Typical Albedo entranced and focused on everything the mysteries the world had to offer. 

You didn’t mean nor want to rain on his parade, but you would have to make the journey to Dragonspine and check on him. You couldn’t just sit here, as his friend and lover. 

It was a surprise after the third month that Jean hadn’t sent a team to check on him, but then it all made sense when she explained her reasoning. The only thing stopping her from sending a team up to check on him was the fact that all of the able soldiers were either injured or off on missions; Kaeya was off on some personal business away from Mondstadt, Varka and his team were still on their long strenuous mission, the Honorary Knight was still in Liyue, and Hertha wasn’t authorized to travel outside of Mondstadt.

It was a relief you were the captain of the exploration team, tasked with exploring Teyvat, bringing back information for maps to be drawn, possible paths to be made, and finding new lands. You, on the other hand, were authorized. It was just a matter of getting permission from the Acting Grand Master. 

“Jean, may I please have the authorization to take a small team with me to Dragonspine?” You asked the blonde who seemed to be busy filling out paperwork. Most likely configuring new formations and teams, since the majority of the soldiers were unable to travel right now. 

“All able soldiers are unavailable,” She reminded you, eye’s briefly lifting from the wordy documents, before glancing back down to write something. “If you wait a few days, I can send a team up with you to find Albedo.”

A few days. You had a feeling she would tell you that. That wouldn’t work...

You rocked back and forth on your heels, “Excuse my impatience, but I’d prefer to leave now.”

She stared at you, eyes empty for a while, thinking, though a brief smile shaped her lips. “Do you believe you can make the trip by yourself?” 

Sure, the cold was something you weren’t accustomed to, but you’d do anything for Albedo. Even travel aimlessly through a snowstorm. You nodded eagerly. 

“If you’re not back within three days' time, I will send a few soldiers after you.” She explained. 

“Thank you.” She bowed her head. 

“Good luck, Knight.”

- 

Thankfully, you remembered the general location of Albedo’s hideout in Dragonspine. You could thank your excellent memory - having trained your brain for years mesmerizing back roads and maps - visiting more than once also made it much easier as well.

You reached Dragonspine within a few hours and made the trek up to Albedo’s hideout in less than two hours. The sky was greying the higher you got and the snow only seemed to fall quicker and land on your exposed cheeks like sharp pellets. A snowstorm was approaching, you noted, you better hurry.

Venturing deeper into the medium-sized jut out in the mountain, you could see a single small flame, lighting up the back end, but other than that, the cave was encompassed in darkness. 

“Albedo?” You called out to your lover, noticing an onslaught of shrewd books, some open, some with pages ripped and torn, only a few had the luck of not being tarnished. “Are you here?” You asked again, the only response was the echo the cave shot back. 

Though, in a heap on the floor by the fire, you found exactly what you were looking for. As you approached, the flames became more visible and now you could see more of Albedo. He was oddly on his side, leaning against the back of the rocky cave wall, legs loosely curled into his chest. More of those books he adored so much were shrewd around him, along with his own notebooks, filled with scribbled words.

“Albedo!” He didn’t appear to be moving, only when you practically flung yourself at him was when you saw shallow breaths, chest moving faintly. Furthering your inspection, you gripped his arms and leaned down to his chest, putting your ear right to where his heart is.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You sighed, forehead lowering onto his chest out of relief. He was alive, thank goodness. 

You still couldn’t see his face though. Ashy blonde hair shielding it, soft bangs hiding his eyes. The only thing your eyes saw was the shape of his lips and the bridge of his nose.

“What’re you doing here like this?” You asked, hoping he would just look at you. His uncharacteristically odd positioning and the fact that he hadn’t even uttered a word yet were enough to leave you concerned.

Maybe his time in the icy mountains, in solitude, was not beneficial to him like originally thought...

“Can you speak?” You asked, confused as to what was going on. Maybe he was too cold to speak. You noted from gripping his arms earlier, that they were ice cold, goosebumps on usually unmarred, soft skin. The small fire was doing nothing to keep him warm and you weren’t sure if he had any warming bottles or Goulash left... Presumably not, hence the reason he was as cold as ice. The real question was, why was he still here, suffering like this, in the cold? Despite popular belief, he knew when to leave dangerous environments when they were a threat to him; all knowledge, research, and experiments aside. No, this was something different... Something was terribly wrong. 

“I have a few warming bottles,” You explained, reaching into your cloak pocket, slender fingers enclosing around the small bottom, taking it out of your pocket. “I know these things aren’t entirely useful, but it'll help warm you up for a little while.”

“No, don’t waste them on me, please,” He whispered. Hissing in pain, reaching for his head. “You need them to get back down the mountain.” The alchemist said lastly. 

“Waste them?” You whispered to yourself, ignoring your questions when you heard him hiss. “You’re in pain,” You stated, eyes narrowing to search for any sign of blood or wound. None from what you could see. “I’m not going down the mountain without you.”

Were his wounds internal? His head seemed to be hurting. You weren't a doctor, but maybe it was from the cold, that was plausible. A headache of sorts, a symptom of hypothermia, though you hoped that weren’t the case... 

He needed to be warmer, as soon as possible. “Would you like my cloak? Here.” You were already shrugging your cloak off and draping it over his shoulders before you even got a reply. 

“Please,” He started, sluggishly easing the article of clothing off of him. “Put that back on, you’ll freeze to death, love.” 

Archons, why did he have to be selfless? He was already in a much, much, worse state than you, and he was still worried about your wellbeing. You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “You’re already beating me to it and I won’t allow that.” You said, refusing the cloak. More heat, you needed more heat.

You gripped his shoulders, letting him know you were still here. “I’m going to start some more fires, stay put, okay?” With that, you stood and took out some matches. A few small piles of dead leaves and twigs were already around the cave, they’d long ago burnout, but you would take it. You were thankful you didn’t have to leave the cave, leave Albedo. 

As you lit each of the dead piles of nature, Albedo muttered, “You need to leave me here,” He then paused, you heard shifting and rustling. With a quick worried glance back, you saw him trying to stand, your cloak falling to the ground. “Get the-” Another pause. It seemed another headache washed over him. “Honorary Knight...” Forgetting the last pile, you rushed towards him, grabbing his lower arms gently, hoping to steady him. 

“Lumine,” You said, “She’s in Liyue, I’m afraid she’ll be there for a while.” You usually would’ve sent a sassy retort back his way, playfully of course. But the seriousness of this situation stopped you. Good choice, Y/n.

He repeated, “Leave me here.” Your head shook. You weren’t leaving without him, you just wouldn’t. You had this awful gut feeling that if you left, he wouldn’t be here when you returned. 

“No, I’m here to bring you home.” You explained. 

His eyes still weren’t visible. “Home? No, not to Mondstadt. You can’t take me there.” 

“I wouldn’t take you anywhere else, other than there,” This wasn’t making sense... Why won’t he look at you? What is he hiding? Does he have an injury on his face? Taking him in your arms, you allowed yourself to hug him, hoping he’d open up and share his concerns. “Please, Albedo, let me see your face.”

His head shook profusely, trying to push you away, though failing. “I’m terribly afraid I can’t show you. It’s already happening- In less than an hour, you’re going to be in danger... You’re already in danger now.”

“Please don’t make me ask you to leave again.” His voice sounded weak, distraught, saddened. 

“You don’t have to, just tell me what I can do.”

A long pause. He was fighting with himself, it was obvious to you now. He sounded as if he was begging you to stay, his words were saying otherwise. But why?

“Leave...” He pleaded. 

“No,” You refused stubbornly. “I’ll do anything for you, leaving is not one of them.”

He hissed again, this time successfully managing to push you away, shuffling further back into the cave.

“You’re not making any sense, Albedo,” You said softly, following after him. “You’ve kept too many secrets. Not anymore, you can tell me.” Your lover fell to the ground again, this time landing on his back. You gasped, rushing over to him. 

As you stood over him, you could see his bangs were pushed off his sweaty forehead, his left arm splaying across his eyes; shielding them from you once again. But underneath it, you could see a faint glow. Red...

His teal, cerulean eyes were no longer present. Now a deep shade of red, alike to that of scarlet quartz, took over. Was this the fault of an experiment gone wrong? Had he been poisoned? A curse even?

Crouching down beside the alchemist, you wondered. “What’s hurting you...” A slender and delicate hand reached out to remove his arm. He fought back with all his strength to keep you from removing his arm, but eventually, you managed to succeed.

Now with his hand at his side, you were left staring at what he’d tried so hard to conceal. You were shocked to be staring at what you were, though not entirely scared. Any ounce of fear was towards the fact that whatever this was, was visibly and prominently hurting him, evident by the odd ways he hissed in pain and coddled his head. You weren’t afraid he’d harm you as he assumed. He never resorted to violence and he wouldn’t at a time like this; you trusted him entirely.

Albedo stayed quiet for some time and if it weren’t for the deep, unsteady breaths, you would have assumed he’d passed out from the fall. It sounded like complete and utter pain and suffering, but he was alive.

It was obvious all of the pain was a result of the glowing coming from his now, mysterious pair of eyes, you realized that now.

“I can see the glow...” You said, he momentarily stopped breathing deeply. Ashamed, disgusted, afraid. “I’m not afraid, I’m more worried about your wellbeing.”

The blonde smiled weakly, eyes glistening with tears. Relief? Sadness? Anger? You weren’t sure, probably all three and much more than he could ever say. “Wrongfully, selfless in this moment.”

“I could say the same about you, love.” You chuckled, remembering minutes ago how badly he’d been trying to save and protect you. 

Albedo weakly sat up, carefully scooting to lean his back against the stone wall, staring up at the cavern's ceiling. You followed him, reaching over to grab his hand, head laying on his shoulder. You could feel his hand trembling. Whether it be from fear, the cold, or the fact that something was overcoming him, you weren’t sure...

“I’m going to stay here with you, through whatever this is,” You admitted. “You’re not going through this without me.”

He nodded, eyes lulling shut. 

Stay awake for me please, I know it hurts but please.

“I love you.” He whispered, head falling on yours, breaths finally shallowing to a comfortable pace. He was steadying, at least for now.

“I love you, too.”

Of course, you meant what you said. You’d always mean it and you would never retract that statement. But, if you managed to survive this and not die from hypothermia, Albedo’s screams of pain and pleads for you to end him, would haunt you for the rest of your existence.

2.22.21, rayofsunas

[bakugohoex]

looove your blog keep up the amazing work 😙✌🏽 anywho fic where people in UA still think shinsou's quirk is scary and they avoid him as much as possible bc they're scared he might activate it + that makes him sad but reader isn't scared of him at all !! and she always talks to him/hangs with him etc.. and he like low-key falls in love w her

”why aren’t you scared of me?”

pairing: hitoshi shinso x female reader

cw: language, slight angst, fluff, kissing

word count: 4000+

a/n: umm this is weird and i got rid of the joint traning arc and mina and momo are being bitches and it’s just me waffling at 00:30 so yeah have fun to the people awake reading this also thank you so much for the support

summary: in which shinso joins class 1a and whilst everybody seems to be scared of him out of fear he’ll use his quirk, you try to befriend the boy and he develops feelings as soon as you talk to him.

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

His arrival into the class was shocking to say the least, the small whispers between your classmates and the fear that flushed through their eyes. Except you, you were intrigued by the boy, having seen his quirk at the sports festival you had seen how he used it against Midoriya. His soft violet hair looked a mess but a cute mess to say the least, his dull eyes and grey marks underneath his eyes melted your insides.

“You can sit behind Y/n.” You smiled to signify you were Y/n and he looked down walking past your classmates.

The whispers all in ear shot, you could see his eyes fall but didn’t say anything about it. Him, swiftly taking the seat right behind you, Aizawa had let the class talk among themselves and the fact nobody had come to talk to the boy. Hurt you a lot more than you wished, “y/n, we’re having that movie night next Sunday.”

“I can’t wait.” You turned around to meet the boy, “you’re invited as well.”

He gazed up catching your eyes, your knuckles were white due to the grip on the chair, and you stared with utter confidence. Mina having been the one to ask, she gave a side eye at what you had just said but didn’t bother making a remark.

Shinso answered with a, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No, it’s fine, I want you to come.” You had never been this confident but at how he had been ignored by the rest of the class it jolted something inside of you, “we can have lunch together as well.”

“Okay.” It was blunt and Momo this time had come up to you.

She stood in front of you, ignoring the boy, you could see how tense she was at the close proximity between them. She gestured for you to get up, but you ignored her action, “I’ll talk to you later.” You spoke continuing to ignore her pleas, was she really scared of him?

Were they all really that scared of him?

“You can go to your friends; you don’t need to be some sort of pity party.” Shinso muttered, stretching back and leaning against his chair.

Wide eyed, you tilted your head to be placed on the back of your hands, “I’m not a pity party, I want to be friends.”

“Friends, your class hates me.” He looked up and down, your skirt had ridden up and he could see a scar that you had probably gotten from someone’s quirk.

You roll you eyes giving the boy a smirk, “they don’t hate you.” .

“Really?” He gushes out knowing it’s the truth.

“Yes, stop worrying.” It was concerning how easy you two could converse, and your friends were ever so afraid. His gaze watching every one of your features, they assumed he was thinking of how to taint you, but all the saw was a tenderness comfort from you.

You noticed Ectoplasm come through the door ready to teach the hated maths lesson, “be warned if you get a question wrong, he will glare at you.” You gestured to the man and Shinso’s lip twitched upwards.

“Maybe it’s just because you get the questions wrong.” Shinso remarked back, urning a small slap on the arm to him.

His could feel the tip of his ears redden at how your hand had touched his arm, even though the fabric, your hand had lingered before hearing the sound of the lesson starting. You turned back around trying to look and concentrate on the board but all you could really think about was the boy. He was sweet, he understood your humour and he was nice, and you had no idea where there seemed to be an air of terror around the room.

Lunch had finally arrived just as you were getting your stuff, “Y/n, let’s go to next lunch.” This time it was Midoriya who had spoken, he had fought Shinso and knew everything about him. Seeing you be so friendly to someone who had a quirk like him, it made the green haired boy anxious.

“I’m having lunch with Shinso actually” You took your bag, standing up and allowing Shinso to have a full view of your frame, the loose tie around the white shirt, the thigh highs encasing your legs and making your thighs suffocate between the fabric.

He saw the way the class was looking at the scene and he became angry, maybe even upset. Did they really fear him this much, think he’d become some sort of villain and he’d taint you.

You started walking before waiting, “come on then.” It felt like being beckoned but he followed nevertheless, meeting your gaze and walking past the class with you.

“She’s too nice for her own good.” Mina spoke walking out with Momo.

Momo nodded watching how you stood close to the boy, “he might hurt her, we need to keep an eye on them.”

“What if he’s already in her mind?” Mina spoke callously, it was unknown for the two of them to act like this. But they had seen the festival, and they has seen the look on Midoriya’s eyes when he was being brainwashed. You were too nice, everybody knew that, but you had always been infatuated with his quirk from the first time you saw him use it. You hadn’t fought against him during the sports festival but had made it to the same stage he had.

He wouldn’t have paid attention to you, wouldn’t have looked and watched your fight, you weren’t anybody important. “I bet you’re happy you got moved into our class.” Both of you were rounding a corner and you had been telling him about the classmates, but all he could think about was the hate and disgust he had seen in their eyes.

“Yeah, too bad you’ll probably be my only friend.” He shrugs pulling at this tie to loosen due to feeling constricted.

“So we are friends?” He heard the sign of your chuckle and took a heavy breathe, it was soft and warm, filled with a tender kindness he had never experienced before.

He didn’t meet your gaze, “shut up.” He could almost feel your smile on him, turning to meet your gaze, he was going to be friends with you. He knew that, but was still fearful you’d leave him, leave and be afraid of his quirk.

“I shouldn’t have made you have lunch with me, you probably have your own friends from general studies.” You scratched the back of your head looking forward towards the main hall, you both walked towards the food a hunger taking over you.

He captures your eyes beginning to speak, “not really, I used them a lot in the festival and I guess they got pissed.”

He followed you to the empty seat, sitting opposite you as you picked at your food, “well what did you expect, dumbass.” He gave a low chuckle watching how your hair bounced in place and how you licked your lips after taking a bite of the rice.

“I remember seeing your fight, it was good, too bad you lost.” He taunted back; you rolled your eyes gently kicking his leg from underneath the table. Another flush had erupted from his face feeling your leg graze his own.

“It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t touch her to use my quirk, she kept hitting me.” You whined, he smiled at the action, it was cute, but he was never going to admit that.

Instead raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms whilst leaning back he watched you, “okay then, what is this quirk of yours, I better be impressed.”

“Give me your hand.” He gave a wary look, “I’m not going to break your hand.”

He scoffed, putting his hand out, the rest of the class had arrived a couple minutes prior and had seen the two of you. “I don’t understand why you lot are scared of brainwashing kid, you’re all just pussy’s.” Bakugo stormed walking to another table with Kirishima, Sero and Denki.

All four had to admit his quirk was good, even Bakugo who would say it was shitty. They didn’t really care, and Denki could see him as the popular kid who’d he want to be friends with. The four hadn’t gone up to him due to seeing the glares that you had gotten and the glare of Mina’s that felt ice cold.

Most of them believed fear had caught up but how could they live in fear of the boy when he was in their class permanently. What could they do but see him try to integrate more into the class, Kirishima had even felt happy that you had invited him even after Mina and Momo’s look of horror.

Mina had gone to sit with the girls who seemed a lot more hatred to the boy, you understood Izuku’s anxiousness, but he’d get over it when he got more comfortable. You knew the class would be fine, after these months with them all, they’d be fine hopefully. The girls had watched him put his hand out and your fingers grazing his palms, they had no reason but fear that filled them, one of their close friends getting close with a boy with a quirk like his. It was a recipe for disaster.

“What is she doing?” Jirio asked, she didn’t have the same hatred as Momo, and Mina did. But that was only due to you being closer with the latter.

“Showing her quirk.” Hagakure spoke being able to see a lot more than the others by being the closest to the two of you.

Mina’s eyes widened, “why would she do that?”

The lack of response made it seem more like there was more fear from her than anybody else. Of course she would feel like this, she had seen you grow and been there for you and she didn’t want some stupid brainwashing boy to make you a villain. She hadn’t realised her thoughts, how inconsiderate she had been, he wasn’t a villain but why did she believe it so much. Having seen him control Midoriya it was frightening and now here you were sitting in front of him without acknowledging the fear.

“Basically if I touch any matter really, I can control it, so I touched your hand now…” You had stopped speaking letting your mind go blank as you thought for him to wave at you, “see.”

His eyes widened it was like his, it was something similar not exactly the same. But he felt his chest go heavy, he had fallen for you, from the way you spoke to having seen your fight and see you defeated. He had to admit he thought you were an arrogant weakling but now after you had so effortlessly become friends with him, he felt something a lot more for you.

“Shinso.” The sound of your voice saying his name, drove him wild and he couldn’t move, frozen at how you had spoke so smoothly, how his name on your lips was so effortless and seductive. He might sometimes be coy, but he was blunt but at this moment he couldn’t speak out of fear of losing something potential.

“Sorry.” It was a mutter and you shrugged it off taking him to where training would be.

Having changed into your hero costume you saw Shinso with the detachable mask around his mouth. He walked closer to you, but saw how your friends had come over quickly, he didn’t take a step forward standing still. Until Denki had seen him, “hey, I’m Kaminari.”

“Shinso.” The violet haired boy spoke.

Denki began gleefully talking to no end, “…I think your quirk is cool and you look one of those popular boys in Shojo manga.”

“You read Shojo manga.” Shinso spoke visibly confused but intrigued at the boy.

Denki began to save himself by acting cooler than usual, “what you don’t?”

“Nope.” It was another blunt statement; he had easily been able to not been blunt with you, but he was getting anxious at the motives of Denki’s.

“Come to my room tonight, I’ll show you so many.” Denki had easily said, Shinso nodded, he felt relieved that this mornings antics had all be swept away, even seeing Kirishima and Sero coming along dragging Bakugo beside him. They began to converse and Shinso felt relieved but occasionally looked at you, he found your hero costume beautiful, he understood for the lack of clothes due to it being easy to touch stuff with your any part of your body.

He zoned out looking at how your legs were exposed, the white leotard that encased your body and the long white cape that fell from around your neck, it looked moveable and he could see the material to be controllable for you to grab stuff. You looked like an ethereal angel and he if this really was a Shojo manga his nose would be bleeding right about now.

“We’re doing doubles, get into pairs and then join up with another pair.” Shinso noticed how he probably wouldn’t end up with you or one of the boys as they’d partner up together, but Denki had stayed close to him already an acknowledgement that the two were pairs and Sero had gone to pair up with Sato.

You had seen Denki go up to the boy and you knew your assumptions were right, being partnered with Mina would be hard at how she gave fearful remarks of not getting too close to the boy. You were against Momo and Ururaka, it was an ease using and controlling whatever Momo made but you weren’t fully in the fighting spirt. Your gaze on the fight between Kirishima and Bakugo against Shinso and Denki.

“Y/n, pay attention.” Mina chastised, you nodded continuing to stop Ururaka’s aim, it was easy to get close to them and with ease and Mina’s acid you were able to touch them and control them to stop.

It went on like this for a while, you were glad that with timing you didn’t have to go against Midoriya and Todoroki or Bakugo and Kirishima. They’re power was a lot and you really didn’t want to break any bones today, but fate still ended up hating you and the last fight was against Shinso and Denki.

You could almost feel the smirk through the mask, the capturing weapon surrounding his pretty little neck. “Ready to lose Y/n.” You didn’t speak, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

Denki had come full force at the two of you, you quickly with ease touched him as he swung for Mina who slyly escaped using her acid. You brought the boy up, whispering in his ears a few fatal words, before he stormed at Shinso with his quirk. “Using my teammate against me, so callous of you.”

You still hadn’t spoken, Mina hated how he toyed with you but still remained further away that you did.

“Shinso.” Denki shouted but that was Shinso’s cue to use his own quirk, it went on back and forth using Denki before he overexerted himself and stayed on the ground. Knowing you’d have to make this quick, you ran up to the boy ready to touch him.

But you felt the cool alloy wrap around your bones, Aizawa had seen the progress Shinso had made using them and he was impressed. He was still rough and needed a lot more practice, but he was able to hold onto you with confidence. You tried to get out, but he had made your cape wrap around your skin making his scarf able to not be controlled by you, you were all wrapped up for him in a pretty little present.

“Say the magic words.” He mocked out.

You huffed taking a sign before speaking, “let me out…please.”

He let you go and had begun controlling you, bringing you this time closer to his body. “You did good.” He stopped brainwashing you and you came out of your daze.

“Being under you brainwashing is creepily good, it’s like an out of body experience.” You spoke highly praising the boy before hearing Aizawa dismiss you all.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He laughs walking with you to the changing rooms.

You wanted to ask about his new friendships as it seemed to have been him become a lot more comfortable than you had expected, “you made friends with Denki and them lot.”

“Yeah, they seem okay, even that Bakugo he makes some good points, he’s still arrogant though.” You laughed cocking your head back at the remark.

“That describes him to the T.” You partnered ways getting changed and meeting each other outside to walk to the dorms

He spoke about Denki inviting him to read some Shojo manga, and you couldn’t wait to hear that story. He was even your neighbour which you were happy about, knowing that there was only a thin wall between the two of you.

The days continued on as usual, you spending more and more time with Shinso, the class becoming more comfortable with him, even Midoriya was friendly saying Hi’s in the mornings which Shinso would reply with. It seemed like everybody was growing on him, everybody except Mina and Momo, there was a sense of air that you were still infatuated with him.

They remember your exact words from the sports festival, “his quirk looks kind of scary, I’d rather die then fight him.” You had said it jokingly, but they took it literally and couldn’t understand why you were as scared as they were. They saw the look of evil in his eyes, but the class had moved past, and they seemed to be the only ones left. They were your friends, of course they were but the way they had been acting had made you distance yourself just for them to cool off.

Another fast long week had approached, and it was finally time for the movie night that was occurring, Shinso had walked down with you, the purple hoodie encased his frame with the grey joggers. He had been in awe when you came out of your room in shorts and a zip up hoodie seeing the peak of a tank top underneath. You really did look perfect in anything; it was the moment he knew that he had begun falling for you deeper.

“Denki showed me this Shojo manga, he said you’d read it.” You began to think of the manga’s you had read which happened to be a long list. “Kiss him, not me.”

“Oh yeah, it’s sappy, I love it though, we should watch the anime.” You hadn’t realised what you said but it was obviously an invitation into one another’s rooms to watch a romance anime.

Shinso tried to surpress his cheeks from flushing but continued on speaking, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Of course.” You laughed meeting the class who had set up in front of the TV, you grabbed the hoodie sleeve of Shinso’s pushing him onto the end of the sofa as you sat beside him. “Now if I fall asleep, I won’t be embarrassed.”

The thought of you falling asleep on him, made his heart beat. He felt butterflies at how you were already partially leaning against him, he watched Mina and Momo glare from the other side, ignoring it though. The movie had started something Bakugo had chosen after winning rock paper scissors, it was disturbing to say the least and you knew you’d end up falling asleep through the second part of it.

Iida had paused the film for breaks being the efficient man he was, Shinso stayed put as you went to get a glass of water. Mina following, “Y/n, why have you been so distant with me?” She was worried for the friendship, had Shinso made you like this?

“Oh, have I, I didn’t realise.” You speak taking a long sip of the water.

“Yeah, you have, did Shinso do this to you? Are you like under his control?” It was unexpected and you choked on your water in shock.

You were trying to keep a lid on your anger, but you had given up, “Mina stop being a fucking bitch to the boy, he hasn’t done anything to me, everybody has warmed up to him except you and Momo and it’s driving me crazy to have to step on egg shells around you. He isn’t a villain okay.”

Her mouth was wide and at your shouting the class had gathered, even Shinso who had heard the last part. Denki put a reassuring arm on his friends shoulder before waiting for Mina’s reply, who hadn’t realised the presence of others.

“He’s probably controlling everybody Y/n, you told me and Momo you would never want to fight him, why would you say that and befriend him?” You thought back to those words you had said months ago.

“I can say I wouldn’t want to fight him because I’m glad he’s on our side.” You muttered, “he’s not controlling all of, stop acting like this.”

Mina tried to move closer to you, but you put your arm out to stop her, “can’t you see we’re all scared of him; he’s going to end up a villain.”

Shinso broke at those words, he coughed making Mina realise what she had said, the faces of 19 angry faces glaring at her. Shinso began to speak and Mina was scared shitless, “I’m going to head up early.”

“Shin…” He moved past everybody walking away, he wasn’t in the mood for confrontation and now all he could think about was you, why weren’t you scared of him, why were you so kind to him?

You barged past the girl, “don’t fucking talk to me until you apologise to him.” You ran to follow the boy who had already taken the elevator, you thought over the scene and he needed someone.

Walking towards his door, you knocked waiting for him to open it, he looked sad, upset even. You didn’t know what to say seeing his glum face, “she shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s the truth though, isn’t it, I’ll always be seen as a villain.” You went to reach for him, but he took a step backwards, “that’s the thing, I don’t understand though.”

“What, Shinso?” You questioned closing the door and leaning against it.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” Your eyes widened.

“Why would I ever be scared of you?”

He came close to your smaller frame, his arms crossed above your head leaning down to meet your eyes. “My quirk its not very hero type now is it.”

“Shinso, I never cared about your quirk, yeah its cool but I saw you, for you not your quirk.” You rested your hands on his chest, hoping to bring comfort.

One of his hands, moved to your cheek, caressing it softly and slowly. “I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, it’s fine, I want you to know that I like you for you.” You hadn’t meant for a confession of your crush to come out, but you stopped caring, you liked him, you really did, and you didn’t care if Mina and Momo didn’t. They would have to acknowledge it one way or another.

His other hand moved your hair away from your face, “you’re lucky then.” He moved his face closer to yours, you could smell the caramel popcorn fresh from his breathe.

“Why?” You tilted your head waiting for the gap to close.

Just as his lips skimmed yours, he spoke softly, “that I like you for you t…” He never finished his sentence, instead kissing you softly, your soft lips engulphed within his own. Your hands in his hair as he brought his hands to grip your waist. He felt every inch of you in that one kiss, hearing a soft moan which allowed his tongue to take the lead and make you own submit. It felt intoxicating and heavy, with teeth on teeth and his grip tightening against your waist. He wanted to feel you on him, he didn’t care what the two girls thought of him anymore because he had you and that was all he ever needed.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

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[sorryimananti-romantic]

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 1

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 7.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

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

Seohyun kicked a pebble with her boot, sending it flying in the air. The black cat following Seohyun meowed as it wandered between her legs, rubbing itself along her naked legs. Seohyun kicked another pebble, and the cat meowed louder.

"I know, I know," she said, sighing, "I shouldn't have helped him."

The cat's grey eyes twinkled and it jumped a little to keep pace with Seohyun. She adjusted her sunglasses with the tip of her finger and tucked her long hair behind her ears, keeping her eyes fixed to the ground in hopes of finding more pebbles that she could kick.

Seohyun's hands went to the straps of her school bag on her shoulders as she finally found one, and she smirked. "Hey kitty, I'm gonna kick this one real hard."

As if the cat understood, it sat near her to watch the scene. Seohyun aimed her foot, sending the pebble flying with full force as a short laugh escaped her. She waited for the satisfying sound of the pebble hitting something hard, but a wail of pain answered her instead.

"Oops," Seohyun grimaced as she motioned the cat to follow her, trying to flee before she was caught. However, luck was rarely on her side.

"It was you, right?" She heard a boyish voice call out. She sneaked a peek, seeing a group of colourful heads belonging to boys that grew larger and larger as more joined them.

"I thought I hit one? Why are there so many..." she muttered, then turned back, bowing her head in a quick apology and turning again to run away, almost tripping on the cat and it howled in pain before following her.

"Hey, stop!" She heard voices, and she just sped up. She had enough to worry about.

"Where are my ghost friends when I need them.." Seohyun muttered under her breath as she sped up, cursing mentally. She could hear steps draw closer by every second, and she finally turned abruptly, making the group of boys stop dead in their tracks, bumping at each other.

"I apologized, what do you all want now?"

"You never apologized," the blue haired one said.

"Why do you think I bowed? To thank you?" Seohyun retorted. The blonde snickered, earning a kick in his ribs from not one but two of them.

"We couldn't see from so far, at least apologize properly!"

"Alright, alright. Was it you who got hit?"

"No, it was-"

Seohyun sighed out loud. "What got you so worked up then, if it wasn't even you?"

"He's my friend?" The blue haired boy said, making it sound more like a question.

"I told you all not to make a fuss, it's not like she did it on purpose," Seohyun heard one of them say, and her eyes shifted towards the boy with black hair, the eyebrow slit further defining his sharp features. Indeed, he was hurt. There was a painful scratch where the pebble must have grazed his cheekbone.

"Ah, so it was you..." Seohyun bit her lip. She thought she should apologize properly, so she bowed properly this time, and got up. "I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

His eyes burned holes in her even though she wore sunglasses. He pursed his lips, nodding. "It's okay, just be careful next time."

She nodded. "Can I go now?" She didn't wait for an answer and turned, motioning the cat to come along, who meowed.

"Wait!" The eyebrow-slit boy sat down on one knee, motioning the cat to come to him, who gladly obliged and Seohyun rolled her eyes. He smiled at the cat, rubbing its head and offering it a biscuit, which the cat graciously accepted, munching right into it.

"Do you even give your cat food? It's so thin."

"It's not mine," Seohyun said and the boy's head turned up to look at her, curiosity in his eyes obvious. "It followed you rather gladly."

Seohyun just shrugged, looking away from his gaze and observing the group now. They were all dressed in school uniform like her, but it looked like it was a different school. She internally smiled at the interesting mix that stood in front of her.

"San, let's go," she heard the red-head call out. San, she thought.

"I need to go now too." Seohyun said, waiting for the boy to stop playing with the cat.

The boy- San- got up and said, "You said it's not yours. Can I take it then?"

Seohyun almost said yes, but hesitated. It was true the cat was not hers, but at this point, she could call it hers, the way it always followed her around whenever she was out. She had rather grown attached to the constant presence of her black furry friend.

"Uhh, I mean you could, but..." she bit her lip as she looked back as if for help, and then turned back to the boy. "This cat is my only friend."

Seohyun hated how it had almost come as a whisper, but the boy looked like he understood as he nodded, taking a step back. "I'll see you around then," he smiled sweetly at the cat, who meowed at him.

Seohyun finally turned, not bothering to check if the cat followed her or that boy, San. She was too scared to check. But when she heard the cat meow and rub at her legs, she smiled in relief.

"I'll feed you more now, I promise," she smiled at the cat.

Meanwhile, San watched the odd pair walk away in the distance.

"So rude!" the blue haired boy said, and everyone laughed. San turned and shook his head. "Not my fault you decided to act like my parent, Hongjoong."

"Doesn't look like she's from our school, but isn't it the school near the place we usually go to eat dinner?" The blonde asked.

"Yeah, it looks like it. You're treating us to dinner there tomorrow. You remember, right Yeosang?"

"You're always hungry for food Wooyoung, how could I forget?" He answered.

The group started to walk their way, talking about their plans for dinner, but San couldn't stop thinking about the girl with the grey streaks in her hair, the girl who had no friends other than a black cat. He unconsciously shook his head, finally paying attention to his present.

----------

"I said I'm sorry!" Seohyun yelled, "Now you leave my hair, and I'll leave yours."

"You first," the woman replied.

"Together, okay? One, two, three- YOU! You lied!"

"You lied too!" The woman shouted, and pulled at Seohyun's hair, earning a satisfactory groan from her.

"It's not like you can feel pain! You're a freaking ghost!"

"Doesn't mean I'm not insulted," the woman smirked, "Alright, I'll leave you first, and you leave no more than a second after, otherwise I'll make sure you feel the pain you love." The woman let go of Seohyun's hair and Seohyun did so right after, taking quick steps backward as she massaged her head.

"Bitch..." she muttered, and the woman laughed out loud.

The woman- ghost- had been keeping Seohyun company for about two months now, occasionally popping out of nowhere and leaving just as abruptly. At first, Seohyun had tried to help her in some way, help her move on and come to terms with her sudden death by accident, but the young woman had quite a difficult death and she was the first of a kind- a ghost with amnesia. No memories of how she had died and why she hadn't moved on.

Seohyun had to admit that she had grown used to her presence. She often found herself narrating her uneventful day to her, just like today, when she had excessively complained how useless of a friend she was and how none of her ghost friends had ever done her a favour. Somehow that had turned into an argument and then to them resorting to pulling each other's hair our, except her ghost friend couldn't feel any pain since she was, well, a ghost. Dead.

"I mean," Seohyun continued, fiddling with her hair, "it would have saved me from embarrassment had you popped up and helped me out there."

"What could I have done?" The woman sat down on the pavement, the black cat gladly jumping on her lap as the woman ran her hands through her fur. "It's not like anyone else can see me."

"Hello? You could have made me disappear."

"You know it's not good for your health. Why do it unless absolutely, absolutely necessary?" The woman glared at her.

"YES! That was absolutely, absolutely necessary. There were 8 of them! I was alone!" Seohyun whined and the woman just ignored her.

"Unnie~" Seohyun sat down near her, and the woman slid away from her.

"I told you not to call me that. I have a name, and it's Jiwoo."

"How can I call you by your name? You're much older than me." Seohyun grinned.

"And that's why I don't help you. Because you're a stubborn one. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm not that old."

"That's rich coming from you," Seohyun retorted, ignoring the last remark, "I'm not the one refusing to move on just because I can't get enough of worldly pleasures."

"And that's my cue to leave you alone, like you always are. There's a reason you don't have friends, Seohyun." Jiwoo got up, putting the curled cat on the pavement.

"I do have friends-"

"I'm talking about human friends. Your sharp tongue and stubborn heart, it's about time you change that."

"I-" Before Seohyun could complete, Jiwoo disappeared. Seohyun sighed, her heart sinking a bit at her harsh but true words.

There was indeed a reason that she had no friends. And it wasn't her ability to see ghosts.

Seohyun pulled her knees to her chest, shutting her eyes. She wanted to disappear.

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

Senior year of high school was supposed to be tough, yes, but Seohyun had to face challenges other than academic ones.

And it wasn't just the fact that she had no social life at all; she only had a group of people she could interact with if need be, otherwise she was perfectly content on being on her own. She had no problem staying amused in her own company.

The problem was with Seohyun, though not directly. It was the problem that she could see and interact with some of the dead. And the dead made sure she got in trouble if she didn't hear their woes and skipped school to maybe find them something (or someone) they had an attachment to, or didn't take them to their loved ones immediately.

She had often tried to reason with them; she tried to explain that she was perfectly aware how bad they must have it, but she had it worse since she was still alive, and with life came unforeseen consequences, such as having to face her mother if they caused a scene (which they usually did), or if they tried to grab her attention by any means necessary, such as causing her desk to fall, her stuff to fly (where she would immediately have to either hold it or pretend to have thrown it).

She tried, oh she tried so hard to tell them to wait until she was free from school and then she would do whatever they asked her to, but no. Apparently whatever they wanted to do was more important than her school, her reputation (already in ruins), everything. There rarely was someone patient enough, and those she made sure she looked after properly. Like Jiwoo.

She wished Jiwoo was here so she could get rid of the old wrinkly man in front of her. She was trying to focus on her mathematics but it was hard to when a fat belly blocked her vision. And she couldn't even say anything out loud, so she just sent daggers through her eyes, the message in her eyes clear. But the old man just smirked, continuing to block her vision.

Seohyun sighed and turned the page of her notebook, scribbling in it, then turned the notebook to the ghost in front of her. The man was short so he didn't have to bend as he read what she had written.

"IF YOU COULD STOP PESTERING ME FOR A FEW MINUTES YOU WRINKLY OLD MAN I CAN'T FOCUS ON MATHS BECAUSE OF YOU"

The old man smirked, and Seohyun wished she could kick him somewhere he would surely feel pain even though ghosts couldn't feel pain. She was so absorbed in thinking of ways that she could make this ghost feel pain that she didn't notice him take her notebook and run away before she could snatch it back.

As soon as Seohyun noticed, she jerked in her seat, stopping herself from getting up and following him. He stopped a few feet away, teasingly coming closer and closer, the frown on Seohyun's face getting deeper and deeper until he stopped near the girl sitting in front of her, tore a page from her notebook and gave it back.

And then he did what she dreaded. He made a ball out of that paper, aimed at the teacher, taking one last look at the very satisfying horrified face of the girl who could see ghosts but refused to help them, and threw the paper ball at the teacher with considerable force, hitting him on his head.

The teacher turned, running his eyes across the classroom, not missing how everyone was glancing between the teacher and Seohyun, who folded her arms rather defensively, silently praying he wouldn't actually pick the paper ball. But the teacher bent down, and it so happened that he was also old, and a bit wrinkly, so when he read the scribbled message, his face went red.

"Who was it?!" The teacher pushed his glasses up his nose-bridge and watched as the students hesitantly pointed to Seohyun, who sank deeper into her chair, as if somehow a pit would open and swallow her.

"You meet me in my office after class." The teacher shook his head in disappointment and continued where he left.

Seohyun was given a warning, and it was her second. She had only one left before she would be kicked out of school (if something big happened, which usually did if she waited for the third warning) so she decided it was time for her to move on again.

And this time she dreaded. It was always a hassle to explain to her mom what had happened. Her mom knew she could see ghosts and when she was little, she had tried all sorts of methods, of almost all religions she could think of, hoping her only daughter would turn out normal, but she had failed. But now she liked to pretend that she had forgotten all about it, and when Seohyun told her she had gotten into trouble, she would silently nod and get her to change schools before something big happened and it got written in her school record.

So a few attempts from the old ghost trying to get her in trouble and a few days later, Seohyun was finally free of struggling. She changed schools. And tomorrow would be her first day, hopefully the last time she had to change schools before her senior year ended. Before high school ended.

Seohyun was still dressed in her old school's uniform when she went to her new school to submit her files and make sure everything was good before her first day. She had her baseball cap on this time, making sure she would hide most of her face since a lot of people would be staring at her. It was normal to stare when someone from another school came.

The black cat found her once again, following her as she walked to the building. Seohyun motioned the cat to stay and it obeyed, watching the girl walk into the building.

From a distance, San and his friends were watching the whole scene. They had recognized the girl not by her face, which was half-hidden anyway, but her cat and the grey streaks in her hair.

"Let's hope she doesn't attack you with a pebble again," Yunho snickered, and San smiled, his hand unconsciously going to the now faint scratch on his face.

"I'm not going to your rescue if that happens," Hongjoong said and Seonghwa chimed in, "Neither will I."

"I never asked you anyway..." San trailed off.

"The cat looks like it wants to escape," Jongho pointed his finger at the hoard of girls that gathered around the poor cat. "Poor cat."

"San, you should go bring the cat. It would recognize you," Mingi suggested and San considered. The cat was worth saving.

A few moments later, San was back with the cat in his arms. The cat did recognize him. He bought the cat to the boys, who lightly patted her one by one, taking turns so she wouldn't feel scared.

After about five minutes, the boys heard someone clear their throat right behind them. They turned to see it was that girl.

"Aren't you the same group from that day?" Seohyun wondered out loud.

"The cat was scared because people were gathering around her, so we brought her here," Yeosang said.

"That's... kind of you," Seohyun met eyes with each of them, and the boys got a proper look at her face for the first time without her glasses. She had light eyes. The shadows beneath her eyes were dark, which contrasted with her eyes rather strikingly.

"What were you doing here? You're not from our school," Wooyoung commented.

"Oh, I'll be joining from tomorrow..." Seohyun realized somehow she's ended up in the same school as the boys. "What class are you in?"

"Senior year, all of us," Wooyoung replied, and they didn't miss her groan.

"I'm guessing you're senior year too," Seonghwa asked, earning a nod of confirmation.

"How ironic. What if you end up in our class?" Yeosang wondered.

"God forbid," Seohyun shook her head, making them smile despite her remark. "Now, should I leave the cat here, or..."

"Does it have a name?" San asked, rubbing under the cat's chin.

"Uh, no actually," Seohyun faltered when she saw San give her a disappointed look, "I just call her kitty. You can give it a name if you want to."

"I'll think about it," San shifted his arms to hand the cat over to Seohyun, and she took it, placing the cat on her shoulders, waiting until she sat around her neck like she usually did.

"I guess I'll go now," she met eyes with San for the last time, noticing the mole on his eyelid. San nodded, and she muttered an awkward bye before walking past them, cursing at herself mentally for being so awkward with them.

"It's you who got me in trouble, you dumb cat," she muttered under her breath. The cat didn't even bother reply.

The boys watched her leave, and Yeosang finally spoke, "I have a feeling she'll be in our class now. Oh, how the tables have turned."

"Interesting," Jongho smiled, "Does San have a new friend now?"

"The cat? Sure." San smirked.

"Ah, let's see how that changes," Jongho retorted, smirking back.

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

Seohyun tried to calm her nerves as she looked at herself in the mirror of the girls' toilet in her new school.

The nerves always got the better of her whenever it was her first day at a school. It usually took her about three days to get comfortable with a new environment. Seohyun sighed as she wiped her sweaty palms on her black skirt, staring at her light brown eyes. She wished she could cover them with her sunglasses so she could avoid the excessive eye contact with humans and ghosts. Sadly, she couldn't do that in class.

She finally took a deep breath and somehow managed to make herself walk to the office, where she met her homeroom teacher, a middle-aged woman. She walked along with her to her class, and the teacher smiled warmly at her as she nudged her to come along.

They entered the class and watched as the boys and girls went back to sit at their seats, the room slowly falling silent. The teacher cleared her throat.

"Good morning class, we have a new student today. Please introduce yourself."

Seohyun, who had been looking down the entire time, finally gathered whatever courage she had and ran her eyes along the class as she finally spoke.

"Good morning, I am Lee Seohyun. I hope we can get along well."

"Alright, why don't you find yourself a seat?" The teacher said and Seohyun nodded, looking at the few empty seats and considering her choices.

Her first priority was to sit as far away as possible. Preferably by the window. There was one empty seat in the furthest row, but it was next to the seat by the window already occupied by someone-

It was one of those boys. She only knew San's name for now, and it was the blonde one. She quickly scanned her other options and decided this was the best for now.

As she made her way, she realized the 8 of them were all sitting around the empty seat that she was about to sit on. San was in front of her, the strawberry blonde on her other side, the rest around them too. She wondered if the seat belonged to one of their friends so she quietly asked the blonde, "Is this seat free?"

He shook his head and she internally sighed in relief as she settled herself, focusing on whatever the homeroom teacher said, trying not to stare holes at the back of San's head, until she left a few minutes later and she slumped back in her chair.

San finally turned, raising his brows, "What a coincidence."

Seohyun shrugged, straightening her skirt. "Ironic, really."

"Is there a reason you changed schools?" The blonde turned towards her, resting his head on his hand as he looked at her curiously.

"Uh," Seohyun hesitated as she tried to recall her excuse for every time someone asked her this, "for convenience. It's closer to home."

"That's an interesting reason to change school," he replied, earning a shrug.

"Maybe she doesn't want to tell you why exactly. Am I right?" San locked eyes with her, his smirk growing.

"Maybe," Seohyun teased back.

"How's your cat?" She heard someone call, and she looked at the black haired boy.

"It's not exactly mine, but it's fine. Probably."

"That's... reassuring. I'm Wooyoung by the way. This is Yeosang-" he pointed to the blonde next to her, "San, and that's Yunho next to you."

She looked at Yunho and he waved shyly. "That's Seonghwa," he pointed in front of him, and when Seohyun nodded, he continued, "The blueberry is Hongjoong, the red one is Jongho, and that's Mingi over there."

Seohyun nodded slowly, looking at them all slowly. "Yunho, Seonghwa, Hongjoong blueberry,-"

"I heard that!" Hongjoong shouted, turning around and making a pout at Seonghwa. Ignoring him, she continued, "San, Jongho in the front, then Mingi beside him, Wooyoung and Yeosang. I got it."

"You're quick," Yunho grinned. Seohyun wished she could tell him that it was because of the several hundred ghosts she had met and had promised never to forget their names.

"So the 8 of you are friends?" She asked, and San nodded. "Why was this seat in the middle empty then?"

"Mingi used to sit here but his eyesight got worse so he moved to the front."

"Well, that explains..."

Their teacher walked in, a man in his 30s, and she found out he was to be her math teacher. At least he's not old and wrinkly, she thought as she took out her notebook.

---------

The rest of her day was uneventful, except for the break when the boys asked if she wanted to join them but she didn't. She said she had to go to the office, but that was a lie. She wanted to take a breather.

When they left, she looked again at her options. She was already regretting sitting among the group of friends. She was going to be a disturbance to them, or something even worse. She didn't want them to think she was weird. Not yet.

She surprised herself at the thought. Why did she care? She had never cared before. But she told herself it was probably because she had a few encounters with them before and it would be weirder if they found out now. That she was strange. They'd probably stop talking to her very suddenly. That part always hurt her, which was why she always avoided making friends.

Seohyun shook her head and looked at the empty seat in the middle of the room. The spot was out of question. Being in the middle of the room meant she could be surprised from anywhere by those damned ghosts.

Then there was one in the very front with the wall. She could go there, but...

She felt more comfortable here. The spot was perfect. The problem was the boys. They were in for disappointment.

She saw some girls staring at her. They were probably considering if they should talk and make friends with her. But Seohyun was in no mood for friends, so she just put her head on the desk and closed her eyes.

She almost drifted to sleep when she heard someone put something on her desk. She got up and saw that it was San. "We figured you didn't have time for lunch, so."

Seohyun looked from the bread and juice to San, and back at the food presented to her. "Thank you, that's uh... very kind of you?" She looked at San and Yeosang, and they laughed shamelessly at her.

"You don't sound so happy," Yeosang commented and she shook her head, sipping at the juice to prove her point as she said, "No, actually I'm glad, but it wasn't necessary."

They just shook her head at her, smiling as they absorbed themselves in some discussion. Seohyun silently ate the bread, wishing she could disappear because she didn't even know how to thank people properly.

At that moment, Jiwoo the ghost appeared, and Seohyun muttered, "About freaking time."

Jiwoo laughed and said, "I see you're having a good day."

"And I don't expect you to ruin it, so please live up to my expectations for once," Seohyun hissed, keeping her voice as low as possible, but it still made Seonghwa look at her once before he focused back on his friends.

Seohyun sighed. She couldn't write in her notebook now because they would definitely see it. And she couldn't talk. So she just folded her arms as she slowly sipped on the juice while Jiwoo danced around the classroom.

As soon as the bell rang indicating the end of the day, Seohyun sighed in relief. The day was over without any incident. She slowly packed her bag, thinking about her promise to meet a new ghost after her school. It was a girl about her age, and thankfully she understood what school demanded of her, so she had promised to not disturb her.

"You look ready to go to your bed and fall right asleep," Yeosang commented.

"Tell me about it," Seohyun muttered, wearing her bag and making her way out of the class, the boys not far behind.

San watched Seohyun walk as if she was in a hurry but couldn't care less at the same time. She would speed up, then slow down again, and repeat.

"Are you in a hurry?" Wooyoung asked her, falling in step with her.

"Uh, not really. Just can't wait to get home," she said, but her voice didn't match what she said. She sounded the least excited to do that.

"Long day, huh?" Wooyoung said and she finally passed him a smile. "So you know no one at this school?"

"Well," she said, "I am new."

"Well, you can be our friend. Only if you want to."

She stopped in her track, making San almost bump in her, and she muttered a sorry to him as she continued walking again. San decided he would join them now.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Not sure you'd like me as a friend."

"And why do you think that?" San looked at her curiously.

Seohyun sighed, "I'm... how do I put it? I don't think I need friends. But that sounds rude. I don't mean to sound rude, it's just... better if you all don't mind me. I'd only be a bother and make everyone uncomfortable."

"We don't mind. We weren't all friends from the beginning. The group grew larger with time."

"And why do you think you don't need friends?" San asked.

Seohyun looked at him, then looked away, trying to avoid his steel gaze. "Not the type of person anyone would like as a friend."

"We won't know until we try though," Wooyoung said and smiled at her, making Seohyun wonder why the world didn't have more Wooyoungs.

"No harm in trying, right?" Yunho, who was behind her, vouched in.

Seohyun stopped to look at the odd group of friends, who were all smiling cheekily.

"You sure, blueberry?" She asked Hongjoong, who gasped in surprise. Yunho laughed out loud.

"If you don't call me blueberry, then why not?"

"Blueberry." Seohyun said and turned to walk away, hearing everyone laugh and make fun of Hongjoong. She saw the familiar figure of the ghost she had decided to meet, and she motioned with her eyes to turn to their left.

The ghost understood and it waited for her to turn left too. Seohyun looked back once at the boys who were now a good few steps behind, and she turned left, hoping no one had seen her, saw the empty road and joined hands with the ghost. She felt the familiar feeling of her heart sinking and her stomach flipping as the ghost teleported her to where it wanted to go.

The boys, who did notice her turning left in a hurry, followed soon after, only to find a very empty road with no where she could have gone or hidden.

"She did turn left. Right?" Mingi asked.

"She did. Didn't she? Or am I losing it finally?" Jongho muttered.

"Maybe it wasn't her?" Wooyoung suggested.

"But it was her. The grey in her hair..." Yunho said. "Maybe she turned right?" He looked at his right, where a few students were walking too.

San had been watching her and he was very sure she had turned left. Where she had gone... was a mystery.

"Strange..."

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

"That's... horrible."

Seohyun stood in front of a small house, the white walls glaring back at her. The ghost, a young girl only her age, had just teleported her to an empty alley near this house, which belonged to her best friend. The ghost had just finished telling her how she had died; a road accident by a drunk driver. Since she had died an untimely death, she couldn't do anything about it except mourn over her own death.

"But... people who die in such accidents usually like to make sure justice is served, and get the perpetrator punished. Don't you wanna do that?"

"Oh, I did," the girl pushed her long black hair back, "my parents are doing a good job there, so I wanna let them continue. I don't... want them to know that I'm still here. They should find their peace with all this."

"Wow," Seohyun couldn't help but be amazed at how thoughtful this girl was, "that's very wise of you actually. So what are we doing here?"

"I checked on my friend, Chaeyoung, and it seems like she's not... doing well. I want to somehow let her know that I'm okay. I think that's when I'll be able to move on."

Seohyun, for once, felt actually sorry for the friend. She didn't have a best friend so she couldn't relate, but having someone like that in your life and so suddenly losing them... must be very sad.

"Okay, let's do this," Seohyun said, taking a deep breath and taking off her baseball cap off. She smoothened her uniform and finally rang the bell.

"What if someone else is home, and she creates a ruckus-"

"I checked, she's alone for now." The girl said, and again, she mentally applauded the girl for being so thoughtful.

"Hey, what was your name again? I mean how do I introduce-"

At that moment, a tall girl sporting a bob and puffy eyes fresh from crying opened the door.

"Hi," Seohyun said.

"Do I know you?" Chaeyeong asked.

"You don't, but I'm here to talk to you. I heard your friend recently passed away-" Seohyun paused when Chaeyoung rolled her eyes and attempted to shut the door at her face.

"Wait!" Seohyun said and Chaeyoung paused.

"My name is Soojin." The ghost finally said, and Seohyun looked at her once, catching her nervous stance before turning back to Chaeyoung.

"You might not believe it, but Soojin is here," Seohyun said, and Chaeyoung pursed her lips. "And I don't have all day, so I'll just prove it. Soojin told me some stuff only the two of you would know. How you had a crush on her brother for the longest time, how you want to meet your childhood best friend who's moved to the States, how-"

"Wait," Chaeyoung stepped out, "How- when did Soojin tell you this? Are you Soojin's friend?"

"My name is Seohyun. and I'm sure you've never heard of me from Soojin," Chaeyoung nodded and Seohyun continued, "Soojin is here. She hasn't been able to move on to the afterlife or whatever it is ahead because she can't stand seeing you in pain and blaming yourself because you invited her over to meet with you. She wants you to know that her parents are doing a great job at making sure the drunk driver gets punished, and she wants you to know it's not your fault."

Seohyun watched Chaeyoung's eyes fill with tears at that, and she put a hand in front of her mouth as tears fell, "She's really here?"

"Right here," Seohyun pointed towards where Soojin stood.

"Can't I see her?" Chaeyoung asked, "I want to see her one last time. If I can."

"I'm afraid not," Seohyun sighed, "I don't know if that's possible. But she can see you and hear you right now, just like me. So I'll leave you to say your last goodbye. You can call me when you're done, okay Soojin?"

Soojin nodded and Seohyun went into the little garden in the house to give them some space. She watched as Chaeyoung cried and spoke to her best friend for the last time, falling to her knees. Soojin couldn't touch her, but she patted her head and it was like Chaeyoung could actually feel it.

Seohyun looked up at the cloudy sky. For once, she wished it was sunnier.

After a few minutes, Soojin called out to Seohyun. She awkwardly patted Chaeyoung on the back, and Soojin started speaking as Seohyun told Chaeyoung that Soojin loved her, and yes, it was her who kept sticking their photo back at the wall to give her a sign, and she wanted Chaeyoung to stop talking to the walls because she won't be there to listen to her anymore and that would only make her look crazy (at which Chaeyoung laughed).

"I don't have a best friend, but you guys, you both had something special. And I'm saying this from my self, that I hope you cherish the bond you both had in your heart and really move on. Do what you want to, because life is short," Seohyun said and smiled.

"Thank you. I'll do my best," Chaeyoung wiped the last of her tears.

"She's going now," Seohyun said, "She wants you to smile so that's the last thing she sees."

Chaeyoung smiled as tears fell from her eyes, and Soojin said, "This fool. I told her to smile."

"Stop being so petty, Soojin, she is smiling!"

"What did she say?" Chaeyoung asked.

"She said she asked you to smile, not cry," Seohyun said and Chaeyoung burst out laughing.

Soojin thanked Seohyun for helping her, and she watched as she shut her eyes, and disappeared in an instant.

Seohyun sighed, and Chaeyoung understood. "Thank you, Seohyun. I hope we can meet again?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Seohyun shook her head, "I just hope you'll have a good life ahead."

"I feel bad for not doing anything for you, maybe I could take you for some coffee next time?"

"Well, actually," Seohyun looked around, "there is something you can do. Can you tell me where I am? And can you call me a taxi?"

-----------

It turned out Seohyun was actually quite a while from home, so Chaeyoung ended up paying for the taxi because she felt bad for Soojin being so thoughtless when she teleported her here (at which Seohyun admitted Soojin was one of the wisest ghosts she had encountered). About 40 minutes later, Seohyun decided to drop by at a food street, because she was starving.

Seohyun walked through the hustling street, various food carts lining the street, several restaurants and cafes amidst them. She decided jjajangmyeon would do, so she sat alone at the table in the street, waiting for her meal. She was too tired to look at her phone so she just watched the people walking and eating.

She wished Jiwoo was here. Better than having no company. She wouldn't admit it, but she had grown quite used to her company. Jiwoo still hadn't been able to recall her memories of who she was and how she died, and why she was still hanging around. So Seohyun had left her at it.

Seohyun was so lost thinking about Jiwoo that she didn't notice Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Mingi approaching her until they stopped right in front of her.

"Of all the places," Seohyun wondered out loud, not caring how it might sound to them.

"It seems like we were meant to meet today," Mingi said dramatically, and Hongjoong slapped his arm as he said, "It looks like you haven't gone home yet. Isn't it very late?"

Seohyun sat back in her chair, putting one leg on top of the other. "And what do you care?"

"Ah, so that's what you meant when you said people don't like to have you as a friend," Hongjoong said, and Seonghwa gasped at his friend as he scolded him, but stopped when Seohyun laughed out loud.

"Since you're here, are you gonna take a seat or will you be continuing to walk aimlessly?"

"I guess we'll take a seat," Mingi said, and they all sat and decided to order food first.

"Aren't you cold?" Seonghwa asked, as he noticed how Seohyun put her bag on her bare legs.

"I am. But I'm okay," she said, and Seonghwa shook his head as he started to take off his jacket. "Oh please, I'm okay, I'll feel really bad if you do this."

"Nonsense, this is an extra layer anyway," Seonghwa handed her the jacket and she realized it was true; he did have many layers on him. So Seohyun put his jacket on her legs, muttering a thank you.

"So what's your story?" Hongjoong asked, and Seohyun raised her brows as she said, "You first. I'll talk after I have some food."

"Alright then," Hongjoong said, and told her how they all had been classmates since elementary, with Seonghwa and Hongjoong being friends since that time, until Wooyoung and Yeosang who had also been friends joined, then one by one the group grew.

"Interesting," Seohyun said, "And the 8 of you... How do you get along peacefully? I can't even get along with one."

Mingi pfft-ed at her. "We aren't exactly saints ourselves, but with us being 8, it becomes hard to take anyone serious."

Seohyun scoffed, "So the reason you all get along so well is because you all don't take anyone serious."

"Basically, yes," Mingi answered proudly, and food was served. Seohyun hungrily dig in, and Seonghwa scolded her for eating so quick.

"So with Seonghwa as a mother figure of the group," Seohyun began, "I can imagine why there is peace among all of you."

"Ha. ha. Very funny," Seonghwa rolled his eyes but Hongjoong and Mingi laughed, agreeing with her as they said, "She's not wrong."

She watched them bicker back and forth and wondered if this could really work out. They seemed very tightly knit, and she felt like an intruder. She wasn't even sure if they would feel comfortable with her. Why had they even asked her to be their friend?

"It really does show. That you've been friends for a long time," Seohyun commented, fiddling with her noodles.

"It does, huh?" Mingi smiled at her.

"Can I ask you something?" Seohyun said, and they nodded, "Why did you ask me to be your friend? I mean, you guys look okay as you are now. You don't need an extra friend in this group of yours. So why ask, and why me?"

"Well, how do I put it..." Hongjoong wondered out loud.

"You've got good aim," Mingi said, and for a second, Seohyun was lost before she realized.

"I didn't do that on purpose!" Seohyun's eyes were wide, and Mingi told her that he, of course, was joking, But he winked right after, which made her wonder if that was actually one of the reasons.

"Our group needs a girl. There are too many boys." Seonghwa said, and Seohyun raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure there's no lack of girls in your school."

"There isn't... but they are too... girly?" Hongjoong seemed to think how to put it, and Seohyun folded her arms.

"And what if I am girly too?" Seohyun countered.

"You're just the right amount of weird. Yeosang already clicked so well with you. San loves your cat. You sit in the middle of us. You have no friends. Now you can't avoid it."

"Wow, okay," Seohyun finished her noodles as she thought about what they had said. "And what if... we don't get along?" Seohyun asked.

"We're not exactly forcing you, are we?" Hongjoong asked and she nodded, "If you like to stay alone, then fine. But Wooyoung, it was his idea. And he really knows when a person needs a friend."

"Oh," Seohyun realized what he meant. She looked like she needed friends.

"Plus, we do get along well, don't you think?" Mingi smiled.

"Well, what can I say, except that you'll find me really weird. And okay, I can try. But one day, you're gonna wonder why you even thought we could be friends. You'll wish you'd never asked me."

The three of them stared at her. Seohyun stared back and once again, the three of them burst out laughing.

"We're already regretting. Was it so hard to make friends, Hongjoong?" Mingi asked.

"I don't even remember. Wow."

Seohyun couldn't help but laugh as she thought how it was gonna be. It was true. No one took anything serious.

Maybe they'll never find out about her ghost problems then.

Or maybe they'll never believe her.

----------

next

[itsstrange]

Coffee Run & Green Eyes

Series: Spark Between Us

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Skyline McNoir (OFC)

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a long time and I apologize for those waiting for more stories, but if you follow me on IG then you would know that this last week I was struck with a stomach flu which caused me to not have enough energy for various things. Luckily, I’ve recovered and feel much better. I also want to apologize to those who have requested me some stories, don’t worry I have Not forgotten about you! Just been dealing with some things!

But!! To not keep you guys in the dark I decided to post a Series I wrote for Ao3 on here, just to give y’all something to read meanwhile I work on some other works for y’all!! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Another thing, we have hit 105 followers y’all!!!! Thank you so much for all the love y’all continue in giving me!! I appreciate it so much!! 🥲💚

✨{Credits to owner for the gif}✨

Summary: Skyline McNoir tags along with a few friends who are attending a convention of some show she’s never watched. Little did she know, she would fall head over heels for the lead actor.

Word Count: 2.4 K

Warnings: Will contain Fluff, public sex, alcohol consumption, public fingering, just pure NSFW for all you Jensen fans out there 😊

————

ENJOY!!

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The blasting chorus of Follow Me Now by Jason Gleed, wakes Skyline up. Her Hazel eyes glare straight ahead at the coconut cream wall for a few seconds before bringing the cover above her head, trying to muffled the music. Which didn’t help. At all. Then to make the morning less fun, her bed begins to shake violently by her best friend who’s jumping up down awhile singing at the top of her lungs. Skyline groans into the covers and tries to bury herself deeper into the warmth, but before she can even hide, the covers are being shoved off her form. A shiver runs throughout her body from the coldness in the room.

“C’mon Sky! Today’s the day!” Erin yells as she hovers above,

Skyline groans once again, eyes closed shut when it’s far too bright in the room “Five more minutes,”

“No come on,” Erin says, slightly pushing Sky’s body with her foot, “Tiffany and Laila are already downstairs grabbing breakfast,”

Still not moving, Erin shoves her body once again with her foot, when that didn’t do the trick an evil smirk spreads on her face. Grabbing an unused pillow, she raises it above her head before roughly slamming it against Sky’s head, causing her to jerk upright. With sleep still in her eyes, Sky is only able to squint at her best friend.

“Erin! What the fu-,” Her words were cut off when a large pillow smacks her in the face,

Erin chuckles at her, ignoring the death stare as she hops off her bed, “Chop chop.. we got a busy day today!”

With a roll of her eyes and a loud groan, Sky rolls off the comforter and towards the bathroom. After taking care of her regular morning routines, she hops in the shower. Erin’s music still blasted through the speakers, as Sky took a quick shower and she honestly hoped none of their neighbors complained about their disturbance, she knew she would have if she was trying to get a few more hours of shut eye.

That’s all she ever really wanted at the moment, sleep. After months of studying, exams, piles upon piles of work, and busting all nighters she was finally in winter break. The feeling of being able to come home for the holidays and spending those days with her family sounded amazing and relaxing. However, after the second day of being home, she gets a call from Erin. Mentioning something about having another extra ticket for a convention to meet the cast of some show she’s never watched. She kindly declined the offer, wanting to spend her days off with her family sounded like a much better idea than meeting unknown actors. However, Sky often forgets Erin is not the type to take no for an answer and demanded her to hand the phone over to her mother.

Thinking her mother would defend her and find a way to convince Erin to try and find someone else to take to the convention, Sky hands the phone over to her mother. You can only imagine who won that argument.

Once out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, Sky heads out the bathroom and towards her duffel bag. In the winter season of Austin, Texas, she decides on a plain long sleeve, black jeans, grey hoodie, black boots on her feet with a leather jacket on top. Once her hair is made and adds a couple splashes of makeup on her face, she grabs her phone and book from the small counter as she follows Erin out the room. After a few minutes later, they finally arrive in the breakfast buffet where Tiffany and Laila are already stuffing themselves with waffles and eggs. With a yawn, Sky makes her way over to the buffet with Erin right behind her. Once they both get their plates and sit down on the table, they dig in before getting on with their day.

****

8:45 am

“Oh my god!! I just hugged Speight!!” The sound of Laila coming around the corner interrupts Sky from her book,

The sight of Laila bouncing up and down on her feet with a wide grin makes a small chuckle escape from Skyline. As her friends beamed over this Speight guy, Sky returns her focus down on her book. Not really paying much attention at their excitement, but still having a smile on her lips as she reads the next chapter in her book. Even if she’s not having the same excitement as her friends, she is still having fun with them. Being around them in general for whatever reason always brightens her day. No matter how rough of a day she’s seems to be having, her girls always know just how to distract her and make her have fun.

“Ohh it’s almost time for Osric’s panel,” Tiffany says while looking down at her phone,

No longer able to focus on her book, Sky marks her spot before getting up from the floor.

“You guys go in, I’ve got auto’s for Kim at nine,”

It’s barely nine in the morning? Jesus. Sky thinks to herself, the day has felt extremely long she could have sworn it was already noon.

“Okay, let’s go Sky,” Laila motions her head to the side for her to follow,

“If you guys want me to continue tagging along, I’m gonna need an espresso,” Sky states, feeling yet another yawn creeping up her throat,

Her friends chuckle at her but agreed with her idea. They wouldn’t want her dragging her feet all over the convention, besides, coffee did sound like a great idea. Once writing down their preferred drinks in her notes, Sky leaves through the doors, down the steps and towards a coffee shop not too far away. It was only a couple blocks away, she should make it back in no time. Hugging her jacket closer to her body when the wind picks up, Sky quickens her movements to avoid its freezing weather but careful to not slip on the wet pavement. The last thing she needs is to fall flat on her ass, better yet get a concussion or go back home with a broken wrist.

Boy would her mom faint if she saw her daughter in a cast. Will most likely give her a lecture on why it’s important not to be on the phone during the most worst seasons. ‘If you weren’t on the phone this wouldn’t have happened Skyline’. Yep. She can definitely hear her ranting.

After a few blocks in the harsh winds, Skyline is finally reaching the small little coffee joint. Just as she reaches for the handle of the door, another, large, hand reaches at the same time. Thick fingers slightly touching her own, making her pull back with an apology.

“No it’s fine go ahead,” A deep voice says beside her, letting a shiver run down her body,

Most likely from the weather, what else would it be?

She looks up at the man. Dark beard, shades on his face, black hat on his head, with a black T-Shirt underneath a checkered navy flannel and black Levi’s jacket. Even under the dark shades she can tell he was good looking, handsome in fact.

“No you can go ahead,” Sky smiles at the man, stepping aside for him to enter,

He only shakes his head, gripping the door handle as he opens it for her, “Please I insist, my mom would throw a fit if she finds out I didn’t show my manners,”

Sky chuckles at him, “Well we wouldn’t want that now,”

The man chuckles back, smile forming on his lips. Man did that smile just make her stomach flip.

“No, we really wouldn’t,” Chuckling once more at him she accepts the offer with a thanks before entering the coffee shop,

As she walks inside, the change of temperature immediately hits her cold cheeks. Almost as if a heating furnace was suddenly shoved in her face, but she wasn’t complaining, the warmth was needed. Walking further into the coffee shop, she takes a glance over her shoulder to see if the man was behind her, but only lets a smile appear when she catches the moment of him allowing an elderly couple enter before him.

That’s sweet. She thinks to herself as she walks up to the counter. Once her drinks have been ordered and paid, she heads over to a small empty table near the window. Sitting on the chair she pulls out her book and continues where she left off as she waits for her drinks. A few minutes had passed and Sky was too engrossed in her book to notice her name being called out by the barista. Eventually though, she comes back to reality when someone places her drink in front her. Looking up from her book she meets eyes with bright emerald orbs, and noticing those breathtaking eyes belong to the same man from the door.

“I’m guessing your Skyline?,” The way her name rolls off his deep voice sends a shiver down her spine,

Definitely can’t be the air this time, absolutely not.

Eyeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she lifts a eyebrow at the man, teasing him. Even if she sees her name written on the side of the cup.

“And what makes you think that?” The way his lips slightly lift causes something to flip in her stomach,

Again.

“Well.. seeing how there’s hardly folks in here,” He looks around the shop for a few seconds before landing his eyes on hers again, “and you being the only one sitting down without a coffee.. I took a guess,”

Sky hums with a smile as she takes the cup, “Nice deduction,”

He shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “This seat taken?”

Sky shakes her head as she takes careful sips from her drink. With a small smile the man pulls out the chair with his other free hand, seeing how he has a cup of his own in one hand.

“I’m Ross by the way,” The man extends a hand once seated,

With a smile Sky accepts his hand, feeling it warm and rough as it wraps around her own.

“Nice to meet you,” Still smiling she pulls away from his firm hand,

“You around from here or just passing through?” He asks, taking careful sips from his cup,

Sky softly smiles at him as she wraps her hands around her coffee, trying to warm up her fingers.

“Born and raised,” He raises a brow at the small fact,

“No kidding?”

She nods, “Yeah but I’m just home for the holidays,”

He hums with a nod, “In the army or something?”

Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes from her, definitely noticing how the corner of the mans lips slightly lift as well.

“More like college. My last year,”

“Really? What’re you studying?” He asks, taking another sip, never letting his eyes drift from her Hazel ones,

But does notice how they dart down towards his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. A small smirk hides behind the cup, but doesn’t hide it when he pulls it away from his face.

“Biology,” He hums once again with a sincere smile, making her stomach flip,

It was such an odd feeling, especially when it was coming directly from a man she hardly knows. But for some reason, it felt right. Their conversations switched from topic to topic, never faltering. It just felt right, as if they were long time friends catching up with each other instead of two strangers who just met. Eventually, their conversation was cut short with the barista calling out her name once again with the rest of her drinks.

Getting up from her seat she walks over to the counter where her drinks waited. As she grabbed a cup holder and begins placing her drinks in each space, Ross, settles next to her. Getting a whiff of his cologne. Leaning on the counter he had both his and her coffee in either hand, which he hands over with a smile once all coffees were safely secured in place.

“I should get going,” She smiles up at his green orbs, and only then noticing how freckles are splashed on his face,

This man was literally dashing, no doubt about it.

“Yeah same here,” He says looking down at his watch, “Need a ride?”

She shakes her head with a smile, “I’m good thanks,”

“You sure? Heard it might rain,” He continues to lean on the counter as she places her coffee in an empty slot of the holder,

“I’m sure, it’s just a few blocks from here,”

“Well it can rain from those few blocks,” He argues as he gives her a smile, not wanting to end their little moment,

Neither did she, but she had friends waiting and the moment she tells them the reason why she took a little longer than expected, they wouldn’t leave her alone until she gives them the whole shebang.

She lets a small chuckle escape her lips as she picks up the coffees, “I’ll make a run for it,”

He softly chuckles at her comment, green eyes staring straight into her Hazel orbs that have slightly turned grey from her sweater. Definitely finding her and her eyes fascinating and beautiful.

“It was nice meeting you Ross,” She smiles at him as she walks away,

He smiles as he watches her, sending her a wave goodbye when she looks over her shoulder before walking out the door. Watching her leave didn’t feel like a loss, it felt the complete opposite actually. Why? Well for starters, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her considering she had the all too familiar Creation Entertainment wristband on her left hand. Also, he had her book inside his jacket, another reason on why he would see her again.

Both to retrieve her book and to have a reason to see her again. Don’t get him wrong, he was actually going to give it to her before she left, but the thought of holding it and having a reason to see her again sounded like great idea. He wanted to see her again, wanted to have a conversation longer than 10 minutes and just wanted to get to know her. She was different, in a good way, absolutely in a good way. The way she seemed to not know him or maybe she did but simply did not care made him feel relaxed, made him feel somewhat normal and he would give anything to feel that way again.

Even if it meant “stealing” her book to have an excuse to see her again.

PART 2

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-Hope y’all enjoyed this first part of the series!! Stay tuned for random updates for ‘Spark Between Us’ I won’t give an announcement on when I’ll update it so keep your eyes peeled on it!!

-Turn on Post Notifications!! 🔔 For more!!

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[ickle-ronniekins]

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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[fandomficsnstuff]

In Just A Second - 1

Legolas x Witch!Reader

(Warnings: None I think, for now it follows the story pretty straight, no real fighting yet, but this will be a new series!:D Don't worry I'm working on the other ones tooXD)

You sat patiently between Frodo and Gandalf, currently conversing with Frodo, reassuring him that after this meeting, he’d go home again, see the green hills of the Shire again, “you could come too, you know, I think you’d really like it” you smiled at his sweet offer “tell you what, I’ll escort you back to The Shire after this, then you can show me all the comforts of your home” Frodo gave a sweet but nervous smile, you could sense how scared he was, and you didn’t say it, but you could sense that he already, unfortunately, had a tie to the ring, if he had put it on, you knew not.

You were one of the only ones to remain seated while everyone else argued, and when you finally noticed Frodo getting up, it was too late, your eyes widening at his words “I will take the Ring to Mordor! Although I do not know the way…” you sighed and got up, kneeling down in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you faced him “my dear Frodo, you will not go on this quest alone, I promise you that” he gave you a weak smile, and you got up, keeping a reassuring hand on his shoulder as others joined in, letting out a small chuckle as the Hobbits stumbled forward and declared that they were now also coming along, something that greatly amused you and warmed your heart.

You, however, caught the eyes of a red haired man, Boromir, who sneered at you “she’s not coming along as well, is she?” you frowned “and why wouldn’t I? I may not have known Frodo long, but I already consider him a friend, a friend who I wish to help in any way possible” Boromir scoffed at your answer, and you could see Gandalf debating if he should speak up or not, but you choose to instead, letting go of your gentle grip of Frodo’s shoulder to step closer to the man “I am an immortal Istari witch, apprentice of Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, so yes, I am coming along” you turned around, going back to Frodo’s side and giving him a warm smile, unaware of the familiar blue eyes watching you closely, eyes you had seen sixty years ago nonetheless.

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You were walking besides Merry and Pippin, laughing about their stories from the Shire, hearing of their pranks and small adventures. You felt eyes on you, but assumed it was Boromir glaring at you, unhappy with the fact that you were a woman, so you ignored it. “You’re staring, my friend” Legolas looked to Aragorn, the tip of his elven ears turning slightly pink as he looked to the ground as he walked “last I saw her, I remember thinking she was the most beautiful creature, a part of me thought I had died, or hit my head, that she wasn’t real” Aragorn smirked at Legolas, chuckling lightly “and now?” Legolas dared to look at you again before looking down “even more so” Aragorn smirked, letting out another tiny chuckle before leaving it at that, for now.

“My Lady, if I may,” you turned and saw Gimli, giving him a warm smile as you fell in his step, leaving Mary and Pippin, much to their dismay. “Yes, Gimli?” Gimli looked like he was struggling to say something, like he debated if he should say something or not, but finally settled on doing so “why are you on this quest, My Lady? It’s dangerous for a woman, perhaps-”

“Master Dwarf, I appreciate your concern, but I am quite capable of defending myself and my friends, Gandalf raised me, taught me all he knows and more, thank you for your worry, but I will be alright” you gave him another kind smile before speeding up, catching up with Mary and Pippin, who were overjoyed that you were back and willing to listen to their various pranks. As you were laughing at something Pippin said you looked behind you and caught the gaze of Legolas, your grin fading into a kind and warm small smile, Legolas forcing one in return, but it didn’t seem right, like he didn’t want to smile at you, so instead you looked ahead and continued talking with Merry and Pippin.

You sighed as you sat on a stone, closing your eyes, relaxing at your new camp, it wasn’t until you felt a presence near you that opened them, looking up and seeing none other than the blonde elf himself, you smiled at him “Prince Legolas, how long has it been?” he sat down beside you on the stone, looking over the landscape with a relaxed expression “sixty years, My Lady” you hummed low, nodding ever so slightly, not exactly knowing what else to say. “Seems like such a long time ago to me, ages. We were against each other last time” Legolas stated and you nodded in acknowledgement “yes, until Azog turned up. And I thought Elves just see time fly by, a lifetime gone in a second? And now, we are on the same side. I do hope you do not harbor any ill will against me?” Legolas looked at you confused “no, why would I? You saved my life, and perhaps, but for some reason, it felt like a lifetime to me” you shrugged “for some, that is not enough, but if it’s any comfort, it felt like a lifetime to me too” you simply said, Legolas giving you a gentle smile as you looked back over the landscape, he took the time to study you, taking in all of your beautiful features, everything from your (Y/S/C) skin to your (Y/H/C) hair and (Y/E/C) eyes, the shape of your nose, how your lips looked from this angle, you were more stunning than he remembered. “You are staring, Prince Legolas” you turned and saw a very embarrassed Legolas, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to form words, an attempt that did not succeed, which made you chuckle “do not worry, Legolas, as long as it has no harmful intent, I do not mind someone like you watching me” your words made his face turn bright red, as well as the tips of your own ears.

You and Legolas sat for a while, sometimes in silence, sometimes just talking, you enjoyed it, you enjoyed his presence, the company, even the small glances he gave you every now and then. It took all of your willpower to not glance at him back, you wanted to, that was not the problem, the problem was that last time you met him, he was a tad too arrogant, he was more cold, and, as you had heard and witnessed, he had eyes for a beautiful Ellith, named Tauriel, and you knew that Elves only loved once in their long, long lives, so you saw no point in giving in to your own desires. Too lost in thought, you barely heard Gandalf yell at you to take cover, it was only when Legolas practically tackled you and rolled under a bush with you that you were brought back to reality, your heart beating at an incredible speed as you watched Saruman’s spies through the branches on the bush, Legolas laying behind you with yours and his own weapons, you could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and you did everything to not let your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling him behind you brought a certain warmth to places where it shouldn’t go, at least in your opinion.

You frowned as you crawled out from your hiding spot, turning to see Gandalf with a concerned look, but all it took was one nod from your side and he relaxed, or well, at least when it came to your well being. You turned to Legolas and sighed “thank you, Legolas” he nodded “returning the favour?” you laughed lightly, taking your weapons from him as he gave them to you, strapping them on “you have nothing to repay, my friend” you smiled at him before joining Gandalf, ensuring that the Hobbits were okay. Aragorn approached Legolas, smiling “my friend, well done, saving her from being spotted by those spies” Aragorn put his hand playfully on Legolas’ shoulder, seeing him scoff, half annoyed and half amused at Aragorn’s discreet teasing.

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You were helping Merry and Pippin fighting through the snow, your eyes occasionally flickering to Legolas, who simply walked on top of the snow, unbothered by the cold, “damn Elf, their light feet, damn them” you mumbled as you helped Merry go forward as he got a bit stuck, “damn him and his light Elvish feet, could certainly borrow them right about now” you mumbled on, cringing as you felt another wind blow against you, seeping into your bones, but that wasn’t what made you shiver, what made you shiver was the foul, maddening voice in the air, a voice you recognized, having met Saruman. “Gandalf!” you screamed as ice fell on top of you, rocks tumbling towards you as lighting struck the mountain, seeing the grey, or well, now white, figure being buried in snow shortly before you. Once you managed to claw your way up, helping Merry and Pippin too, you scanned the area as much as possible, seeing his hat pop back up, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight. “We cannot stay here, let us make for the pass of Rohan!” Borormir shouted through the snow storm “no! It will take us too close to Isengard!” you shouted back, watching Gandalf dig his way through the snow to fight Saruman’s chanting. You quickly fought your way up over the snow as well, hearing Gandalf already chanting, and once you made it somewhat out of the snow you began as well, your eyes turning bright white, almost shining, as you chanted, but it wasn’t enough, neither you nor Gandalf was at your best, you were cold, tired, hungry and worn out, while Saruman was probably warm, well rested, full and awake.

Eventually, you made your way for the mines of Moria, a place you knew Gandalf disliked greatly, though you had never been there yourself. You grimaced as you looked over the dark pond, it seemed almost black, tar like in nature, but it was just water. You flinched as you felt a hand on your elbow, turning and seeing Legolas, giving him a warm smile “sorry, the cold is still in my bones, I’m afraid, makes me more on edge” Legolas gave a quick nod in understanding. You kept hearing Gandalf try different passwords, eventually growing tired and sitting down to think it over, “how is uh… Tauriel…?” you cleared your throat and asked, your eyes on the pebbles under your feet instead of the elf next to you “Tauriel? She’s… good, last I heard, Captain of the Guard now, I believe” you hummed in acknowledgement “let’s hope this quest isn’t too long, you can then go back to her all the quicker” you offered him a genuine smile, but were only met with confusion “why would I go back to her?” you shrugged and looked down again, biting your lower lip nervously “I-I… your father said you… and I just assumed that-... I know Elves only love once in their entire life, so I just-... I can’t begin to imagine the grief she must feel, being away from you, as you must feel now, being away from her” you finally met his eyes, but all you saw were a frown and more confusion “Tauriel and I-”

“It’s a riddle!” you turned to see Frodo, walking over to him “speak ‘friend’, and enter! Gandalf, what’s the Elvish word for ‘friend’?” he turned to Gandalf, who looked to him “‘Mellon’” the doors opened and you chuckled amazed, looking down at Frodo “well done, Master Baggins, what a clever mind you have!” you leaned down and pecked his cheek before moving to go inside, ahead of Frodo, though you turned around hearing a scream, seeing Frodo being lifted up by a monster, your eyes widening as you got out your weapons “FRODO!” you instantly ran into the water, hacking at the beast to get it to release the Hobbit, with the help of the Fellowship it eventually dropped him, and you were one of the first to practically carry him out of the water, running towards the mine, only to be trapped in it.

You cringed as the light from Gandalf’s staff blinded you, but only for a second, you, with the help of the new light, got out a tiny firebug-like thing, it was about the size of your palm, it was shaped like a firebug but was made from some form of crystal, like the stone in Gandalf’s staff, though all you had to do was gently blow on it and it lit up, it’s wings began to flap and it lifted itself into the air, just like a firebug, staying in the air above your head. Gandalf smiled at you and you smiled back, he was the one who taught you the trick, you just managed to choose to add the trick to make it fly too, instead of just lighting up. You turned and saw the Hobbits staring at it in awe, it had a slightly different gleam to it, Gandalf’s was pure white with nothing else, yours was more warm, like a candle, but still held the same white light, you giggled at their reaction, ruffling Frodo’s hair gently, making him smile awkwardly.

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You were cleaning your weapons while Gandalf was thinking which tunnel to take, but you felt a presence next to you, one you recognized, so you simply smiled while focusing on your weapons, knowing who it was “Legolas, sit” you offered, not taking your attention away from your weapons, hearing him sit beside you “(Y/N)... I-... Tauriel and I are not together in any way” you frowned and looked at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment “I-I’’m sorry I-... I just assumed, given-... I’m sorry, forgive me” your gaze went back to your weapons, desperately trying to forget everything right now, “I thought I loved her, for a long time, but… I now realize that I loved the idea of her, not her. She’s a great warrior, a great friend, but I do not love her, nor have I ever.”

You frowned even more at his words, still not looking at him out of embarrassment “I see, please, forgive me for assuming so earlier I-” you heard Legolas scoff lightly, cutting you off “there is nothing to forgive, you didn’t insult me” at his words you nodded and finally met his gaze, seeing nothing but warmth and understanding in his eyes, which made a small smile form on your lips, you were, however, cut off by Gandalf realizing which way to go, talking about following his nose, which made you giggle, you remembered him saying something like that to you once. You gave Legolas a warm smile as you got up, your little firebug still hovering over your shoulder as you sheathed your weapons and followed Gandalf.

Your eyes widened as you saw the vastness of the mines of Moria, how high up to the ceiling there were, the columns, the design, everything amazed you “Valar…” you mumbled, going over to a pillar and letting your hand fall over the curves and designs, a small amazed smile on your lips, though it was cut short hearing Gimli yell and run into a chamber, and as you followed your eyes widened at the grave in front of you, the one Gimli was sobbing in front of. As Gandalf read the words on it aloud, your eyes watered, you had traveled with the Company of Thorin Oakenshield for a long time, you were there when Gandalf met with Thorin at the Prancing Pony and gave him the key to the secret door. You traveled with Bilbo, you followed them out of Rivendell, you fought your way out of Goblin Town, you were there in lake town, you remember drinking and having fun before leaving the next morning for the mountain, you remember how sick Kili looked but that he reassured you that he would join you soon, urging you on, urging you to see the halls of Erebor. You traveled up the secret staircase, you volunteered to go into the mountain with Bilbo, though he declined, going in alone, you helped fight Smaug, you were there with Balin when Thorin had Dragon Sickness, comforting him, and now, here he lay, in a tomb.

You gently let your hand touch the grave, unaware of Gimli staring at you confused, tears spilling from his own eyes, watching you cry over someone he didn’t know you knew. “I said we’d meet again but-... not in this way, my friend, not in this way…” you wiped your eyes, letting your hand rest over the words on his tomb for a little longer before drawing your hand away, turning to see Gimli stare at you confused, you cleared your throat before sighing “I uh… I was with the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, I-... I grew close with Balin on that quest” Gimli’s eyes grew even larger “you’re… my father, Gloin… he told me of a sorceress that helped take back Erebor, told me stories when I grew up” you smiled sadly “I am pleased to hear I made an impression on the rest of the company” you smiled sadly at Gimli, receiving one in return, but it was cut short as you heard a loud noise of something falling, turning to see Pippin with a shocked and embarrassed look on his face, cringing as the rest of a dead body, and a bucket, fell down the well, your eyes widening as you waited for any other sound, hearing Gandalf scold Pippin, but nothing else, you almost breathed a sigh of relief when you heard it, drums in the deep, thunder in the dark, they were coming.