#mostly just hanging out with friends and not paying attention to the flow of time

[skalecsz]

warmups from the past few months. lot of elves huh

[funnylittlelad]

birdsong - steddie ficlet (-1.5k)

That time Steve got hearing aids.

Steve has been pissing people off for weeks and he knows it. He just doesn’t know what to do about it. It gets to the point where Dustin snaps at him for never paying attention to them. Steve starts to consider just leaving the country and starting new somewhere else. Somewhere it doesn't matter if he can hear who’s talking to him because he can't understand them anyways. He always thought Italy could be nice. Instead of running, he just shows up less. Both literally and metaphorically.

He starts bailing on more hangouts, figuring he won't be able to hear everyone so what's the point. When he is there he participates less in the conversation. He only engages when he’s really sure he can hear, which isn't a lot. It's mostly one-on-one or one-on-two. He doesn't think anyone notices, but they do. Eddie most of all feels Steve’s absence even when he’s sitting right next to him. He’s noticed the anxious tension in him when they're in groups. He just isn't sure what to do. So, he sits with a Steve-sized ache in his chest. There’s a day when the ache becomes too much, though, and Eddie breaks.

Steve sits in his living room with everyone strewn about. Eddie is next to him like he usually is unless Robin was already at Steve’s first. The kids lay and sit on the rug around the coffee table. Robin is on the other side of Eddie. Nancy sits with her legs tucked under her in a big armchair. The sound of conversation and life flows around him like a pebble in a stream. His edges have been smoothed so the water can move effortlessly, never catching on his surface. He can feel that there are words in the air around him, but there are too many other things around those words. Too much background noise and laughter. He can’t dig through it all in time to figure out what anyone is saying. So, he just stays silent like he has been. 

“He’s not listening again,” Dustin says frustratedly. 

Eddie frowns and looks at Steve. The movement catches Steve’s attention. He turns to look at Eddie with a small smile. Then he notices that it's more than just Eddie’s eyes on him. His blood runs cold and his throat dries.

“What?” He asks cautiously, eyes flitting to everyone else before landing on Eddie.

“Be honest, can you hear us?” Eddie answers Steve’s question with his own.

“I-”

“Be honest,” Eddie warns.

“No,” Steve sighs, “most of the time I can't really. I mean, I can hear you, but I can't tell what you're saying. It all garbles together like I’m underwater or something.”

“I think it's time to go to the doctor, Stevie,” Eddie says softly.

Steve frowns, but nods. There's a nervous twist in his stomach at the thought. He agrees to make an appointment the following day. Eddie hangs behind after everyone else leaves for a little bit. He does this sometimes and Steve’s never complained. Steve’s never thought about complaining. There's no surprise when Eddie gently grabs his hand either. He does that sometimes too. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Eddie asks. 

The question nearly makes Steve cry. He wants to cry so bad. He wants to cry because he misses being able to hear his friends. He wants to cry because he’s scared of what's going to happen to what's left of his hearing. He wants to cry because Eddie is standing here offering to go to his doctor’s appointment with him like he’s a child. Mostly, he wants to cry because he’s so fucking happy Eddie offered and he doesn't have to ask. Steve nods.

“Yeah, if you don't mind,” he answers with a slight waver in his voice. 

Eddie smiles all sticky and sweet at him. Steve silently wonders what he did to be worthy of a smile like that. 

“‘Course I don't mind. Just tell me when and where and I’m there,” Eddie promises.

And he was. Eddie drives Steve to the ENT on the morning of his appointment the next week. He sat in the waiting room until Steve was done, but the knowledge he was there was enough. It was the same thing when Steve was sent to the Audiologist two weeks later. Eddie sat in the waiting room patiently while Steve sat in a booth answering all sorts of questions and prompts. It doesn't really sink in until he sees Eddie stand from his chair. The knit of his brow tells Steve his face says it all.

“What’s the verdict?” Eddie asks. 

“They’ll let me know when to come in and be fitted for my hearing aids,” he sighs with a frown.

“That’s good!” Eddie smiles as they walk out of the office. 

“Good? Eds, I’m going to have hearing aids,” Steve scoffs.

“Yeah, which means you’ll, y’know, be able to hear,” Eddie points out. 

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Nope, no buts except yours in my van,” Eddie interrupts him and points to the passenger side as they approach the van.

Steve rolls his eyes with a small smile as he climbs in. 

“I just don’t feel like it's that bad,” he admits quietly as the van choked to a start.

“How bad did they say it was?” 

Steve remains silent for a beat as Eddie pulls out. He sighs and glances out the window at the building as they leave.

“I'm working with sixty percent of my hearing in one ear and seventy in the other,” he tells Eddie.

“Stevie,” Eddie breathes with a shake of his head, “If the doctors say these things will help you then they’re worth a shot. M’tired of you bailing out on things- yeah, I noticed.”

Steve’s face flushes at being caught like that. He exhales slowly and nods. 

“Okay,” he agrees, “I’ll give them a shot.”

A couple weeks later he’s called into the office for his hearing aids. Eddie is so quick to drop what he’s doing to go with him it nearly gives Steve whiplash. The sight of Eddie’s van pulling up gives a strange swooping sensation that he's grown used to around Eddie. The appointment itself takes around an hour. Then Steve is walking out fashioned with two white hearing aids hooked over his ears. His eyes are wide as they bounce to the television and then the clacking behind the desk. Eddie beams at him and stands. Steve looks beautiful so stunned. Hell, Eddie can admit that Steve just looks beautiful. 

“C’mon, Stevie, let’s go give’em a spin,” he says with a wolfish grin.

Steve laughs and nods. They don't get far, though. Once they step foot outside Steve comes to a halt. He makes a noise that's a cross between choking and a sob. Eddie’s hands fly to examine him for injury, but there is none. Steve’s lip wobbles, his face is blotchy and red, and his warm toffee eyes are trained on the tree a few feet away. Eddie’s mouth opens to ask, but then Steve’s eyes are on him like that. His eyes overflow with more emotion than Eddie knew a human could hold. 

“The birds,” Steve croaks. 

“What about’em?” Eddie’s brows furrow.

He glances accusingly at the little chirping finches in the tree. Steve chuckles wetly at the sight.

“I- I can hear them. It’s been so long- I didn't even realize,” Steve shakes his head, “I don’t know the last time I’ve actually heard the birds.”

Steve’s wonder-filled gaze turns back to the birds in question. He laughs again, heartier this time at the notion. He can hear birds. 

“Shit,” Eddie whispers to himself, “I’m so in love with you.”

At least he thought it was to himself. An hour ago it would have been to himself. Steve’s face whips around with huge eyes. His lips part slightly as he watches Eddie stunned. Eddie freezes, absolutely terrified. He’s so sure he just fucked it all up. 

“I can hear you too,” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat.

“Nah, pretty sure that was a bird too,” he attempts to joke it off. 

“I really hope not,” Steve frowns.

Eddie blinks hopefully.

“Really? Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you too.”

Safe to say, Steve is very happy he got hearing aids. 

Masterlist - beta read by @steveslilshorts

[ryomku]

yellow flowers - kamo choso

synopsis: “when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you”.

tags: choso x reader, fem! reader, fluff, aged up characters, college au!, no curses au!, use of y/n

a/n: i know nothing of nursing nor am i a nurse student or stuff like that so there might be some mistakes on choso´s career, idk it's like 1am and i'm crying

a/n 2: i’m mostly doing this after the leaks of chapter 259 cause i'm still crying and i need something soft in my life right now, this is based on a real experience, sorry if there's any typos english is not my first language

As someone who has never received flowers their whole life you don't get the appeal of such displays of affection, dads giving flowers to moms, boyfriends giving chocolate to their girlfriends, you just didn't see the need for such things.

In your eyes this was something unnecessary and silly, your parents never showed affection towards each other, in reality the only interactions they had were arguments which always occurred very early in the morning, at the hours where everyone is meant to be asleep and that you couldn't help but overhear.

Since they always talked about you and your problems that don't really exist, they were just looking for an excuse to say what they really think about each other.

As time went by you just didn't pay attention to any of those things, you had a very neutral opinion about flower giving, yet there were people who said, “You're a pretty girl. How come you've never received flowers before?” Genuinely you didn't know what to answer since you don't have low self-esteem and you love yourself the way you are because there's nothing wrong with the way you look or feel, so it was something that could not be answered.

Yet on valentine's day one of your friends gave you and your girl friends some plastic roses as a token of appreciation and it genuinely surprised you because for many years (or your entire life) you've never received gifts on valentine's, it was a nice gesture you though you thought it might be the last time you get a flower.

You were proven wrong.

On September of last year you met Choso Kamo on the bus you took on the way to college he was a nursing student, more specifically a phlebotomy technician, in your life have you ever seen someone so passionate about their career, the way in which he spoke about every detail regarding his classes it was hypnotizing it drew you in, suddenly you became friends and later one he introduced you to his friend group.

Soon enough it was a new year full of new classes, new teachers and the same friend group that had your back.

Time flies fast they say and suddenly it's March 21st and somehow the entire campus is covered in yellow. Wherever you walked there was people selling bouquets of sunflowers and daisies, girls all dolled up in pretty dresses, guys wasting ridiculous amounts of money on flower bouquets or in plushies it was weird something wasn't adding up.

What festivity happens today? The thought flooded your mind, you felt and looked clueless about the things that were happening around, still there's no time to waste cuz classes start soon.

10:00 am

Luckily the philosophy of education class was a free hour since the teacher didn't show up, there were so many things you can do in a free hour like eating, sleeping or just hanging out with friends and forcefully you had to choose the last one, against your own will.

“Heh Y/N could you come real quick to the cafeteria near the med students building?” Was the message that Yuki sent you a couple minutes ago.

In your way to said building more couples hugging and kissing surrounded the entire campus, it was getting too uncomfortable with how intense some of them were kissing in public.

Upon arriving at the cafeteria you spotted your friends quickly noticing two flower bouquets in front of Choso.

“Those flowers must be for his siblings. Didn't know Yuuji liked flowers so much.”

That's what anyone would think because since you met Choso he always spoke highly and dearly of his brothers, they were his entire life and his reason for becoming a nurse aside from his interest in the career.

Seeing how Choso cares about his siblings is another thing added to the mental list of things you like about him. Is there someone out there who doesn't have a crush on him? Cuz you find that hard to believe, just by feeling the way you felt nervous and the butterflies in your belly would be going crazy every time he talks to you.

Liking Choso was inevitable, like a storm or a hurricane, it was just meant to happen.

Liking Choso was something that involuntarily at this point in your head was always his face, his voice and even the small hugs he gave you every morning upon arriving at college.

Liking Choso was unexpected, you always thought that you might never have someone to like in your life since you didn't want to end up like your parents, living in an unhappy marriage full of arguments and sadness.

Liking Choso makes you feel human.

‘’Hi Y/N! What took you so long?’’ said Yuki as she moved her backpack to give you space to sit down next to her.

‘’Stupid philosophy teacher didn’t even send a message in time and had us waiting like idiots outside of his classroom.’’ You said as you sat down beside your blonde friend.

‘’Y/N here you go.’’ Gojo (your other friend) handed you a package of cookies.

‘’Why are you giving me cookies?’’ As you ask you gave him and Geto (who was handing you a bag of candies) a pointed look.

‘’Just cuz we want to and because you’re a good friend and we appreciate you.’’ Weirded out you accepted the gifts.

As you turned to put the gifts in your bag they drifted off to a conversation with Shoko, Nanami and Haibara though your attention was caught by the flowers displayed on the tablet in front of Choso the curiosity was eating you up.

Somehow Choso was a lot quieter than usual, which is fair enough he is really quiet and only gives his opinion or joins the conversation when he feels like it yet today not only was he quiet, he seemed uncomfortable and it was very clear, his facial expressions gave it away.

Suddenly Yuki stands up and walks behind Choso grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand towards one of the flower bouquets, in unison the rest of your friend group starts laughing while Gojo being the menace he is, starts recording everything.

‘’Come on man we all know you are a coward and if we don’t help you’re never gonna give her the flowers.’’ Said Yuki while laughing and giving you a smirk.

‘’Hold o-on Yuki! I don’t wanna do it with a-all of you here!!’’ Choso started to pull his hand away from the flowers all while his face gained a red hue and stuttered.

You gave all of them a questioning look. Choso was gonna give someone flowers? Did he like someone? If so, who was it? Was it a friend of yours? Or was it someone you don’t know of?

Questions filled your head as a sudden feeling of uneasiness gained a hold of your heart, it was kinda stupid that you thought someone like Choso might like you back, you hated the attitude you had with people, sometimes you would come off as rude or at worst having a potty mouth which you only spoke like that with close friend, Choso being one of them, probably your carefree attitude and shity mouth drove him away or he generally just didn’t like you as a person.

Maybe he never noticed you at all.

It only hurts because you thought he might like you due to the shyness he had around you which you liked a lot, even your friends would tease you both, while it made you giddy inside you never really knew if Choso felt the same way.

Now that you think about it the teasing started with Geto and Haibara saying Choso wanted to take you out to the movies, that never happened, the only reaction you both had was pure laughter.

You were so out of it drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Choso grabbing the flowers and standing in front of you, flowers in hand and a blush on his tattooed face while he handed you the flowers.

‘’These are for you Y/N I hope you like them.’’ He gave you the flowers while looking away.

That made you snap out of it.

Choso, he gave you yellow flowers.

HE GAVE YOU FLOWERS!!

Choso’s face was a poem, truely. You looked so shocked, that he started to question if buying you flowers was a good idea.

Did you not like them?

Were the flowers too simple?

The thought of you rejecting him crossed his head. What was he going to do if you rejected him? It was going to be so embarrassing, he was gonna be rejected in front of the whole cafeteria, that only increased his anxiety.

Suddenly his ears were blessed with your soft laughter, his heart fluttered.

Your beautiful smile, the soft laughter and the cute blush in your cheeks made the anxiety go away, then he saw the most in love look in your eyes. Oh, how he loved your eyes, he could get lost in them for hours.

He felt a pair of arms around his neck in a warm embrace, all he could hear was a soft whisper.

‘’Thank you, Choso.’’

His arms circled around your waist holding you in a gentle hug, his warm hands rubbing circles, he didn’t even notice that he no longer had the flowers in his hands.

‘’Y/N I like you.’’ His smooth and deep voice whispered in your ear, the warmth in your cheeks increased.

‘’I like you too Choso.’’

They say that when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you, and Choso knew since the moment he saw you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

[gooeyringtown]

drummer au headcanons

barbie as a drummer in a grunge/garage rock band has been IN my mind so hard lately & well i had to do something…….

credits to @hellsfireclub & @el-fandom-phantom for some of these too btw <33 feeding my delusions 😋

it starts when barbie is like in 8th or 9th grade, she and her friends (probably ken & basketball ken [kingsley ben-adir’s ken, to clarify]) find some instruments at a garage sale or thrift store

they’re not in the greatest shape, but they get the job done and they sound decent. the three of them spend their afternoons after school playing random beats and just messing around, simply having fun while trying to get a hang of the instruments

barbie tries her luck with the guitar but she doesn’t quite like it. she can play it just fine, but she doesn’t feel it flow out of her the way it seems to for ken

(basketball ken plays the bass)

barbie has a little bit of a crisis…. her friends are really great at guitar & bass, and what about her!! what is she good at?? does she have any musical ability??

she doesn’t realize that whenever she listens to music, she is always tapping her foot/bouncing her leg, or drumming her fingers, or tapping out somehow, the rhythm of the song. always following the beat, without even thinking

basketball ken’s dad has an old drum set in the garage that barbie sees one day when they decide to practice at his house one afternoon

and as soon as barbie sees it…. it finally clicks

she is an absolute natural with the drums. the beat simply flows through her and it’s like she doesn’t even have to try

(obviously she does, though. she is only around 14/15, and far from the greatest in the world.)

she feels damn proud of herself though, for finally finding her calling. and she has so much fun playing. it’s addicting, and they’ll all spend hours, until barbie has nailed a new routine or solo and feels extremely satisfied

it continues like this through high school. as they get older, they get a little more ‘serious.’ aka they branch out and try new styles. ken takes up vocals alongside guitar, and basketball ken + barbie do back-up.

by senior year, they’ve amassed a pretty impressive base of people who know them. they mostly stick to covers, though they do dabble in attempting original music from time to time

(it’s also worth noting that all 3 of them can play the instruments interchangeably, but they strongly prefer to stick to their one, mainly)

they play local gigs at taverns & such in their town, and they’re always a blast

barbie finds herself loving & craving more of that. she’s obsessed with the feeling of the spotlight sort of on her, the adrenaline from when she’s cranking out this music, feeling the beat in her and causing people such a fun time. it’s the idea of creating that fills her with this joy

barbie saves up and for her graduation gift, her parents help her pay half and half for a new drum set. and this is quite possibly the happiest day of barbie’s life

the 3 of them take a gap year: basketball ken undertakes an internship at a law firm his mom is a partner at, ken is a leader at an equestrian camp, and barbie does some volunteer work at an animal shelter

in between their work, they still meet up and practice. the summer after their gap year is the greatest; they play with a renewed freedom, and let months of repressed musical talent finally bleed again.

they book gig after gig, at some local places for the summer but also branching out to new and nearby towns, just to get a taste

(barbie only seems to get prettier and prettier, and she most definitely has people lining up trying to get her attention. she is so oblivious though, and frankly, just not interested. no one has caught her eye. music is her priority and she’s busy with figuring school out and reworking her job schedule, so she doesn’t have time.)

that is, until, one night at a gig, barbie spots literally the most beautiful girl she has ever seen in the crowd, just before their set

she has these gorgeous big brown eyes that look at her for a second, and it’s enough to have barbie’s heart running wild. she finds herself playing with extra vigor that night, trying extra hard to be at her very best and shine just a little brighter

the kens definitely notice and are hyping her up like crazy after the show

“barbie, holy shit, you KILLED IT!” “where did THAT come from!!!”

turns out the girl is there with allan, ken’s friend. and she’s invited backstage with them

barbie turns to look at her, and the kens immediately know why barbie was so extra sublime that night

her name is gloria, and barbie is like marry me

the kens most definitely tease her immensely following that night. whenever they have an upcoming gig, barbie tries to very subtly and sneakily ask if any of ken’s friends will be there. (if allan will be there again.)

(her sneakiness is to no avail, though, because the kens know she’s asking if gloria will be there again, and they make so much fun of her.)

all barbie can do is blush and hide her face.

(though she does grumble that at least she has girls who have been interested, unlike the two of them.)

yep. that does the job. the kens are pouty messes for the rest of the day.

the next time barbie sees gloria at a show, gloria is wearing this pink flowery band-aid on her finger, from a little cut she received

barbie traces the pad of her finger along the band-aid, while the two of them sit on a couch backstage and talk

(it’s so subtle, her touch, but gloria’s heart is hammering in her chest.)

summer ends, and barbie goes off to school. it’s not too far away, but not close either. and gloria goes to school elsewhere. they definitely keep in touch though, and actually talk and text constantly

they meet up halfway during every possible chance they have. 3 day weekends, spring or winter breaks. you name it.

actually, for spring break, they have a gig. barbie has just turned 21, and they’re going to some bar in the dusty middle of nowhere

it’s an amazing show. gloria is there, so of course it is, for barbie

they buy her a round of shots afterwards, and they stay to dance and play pool

barbie sobers up and is quite hungry, so she and gloria sneak off to get some burgers and a milkshake

it’s nearly 2 in the morning by the time they leave, and the kens are probably wasted, so they decide to buy some cheap clothes to sleep in and find a motel to spend the night in

while gloria gets settled into their room, barbie goes out to get them some waters from the vending machine

when she comes back, she sits on the bed while gloria changes into the pajama shirt

but there’s a mirror … and gloria’s back is right there, with no bra, and barbie can see—

gloria looks up, and the two lock eyes through the mirror, and she knows barbie is looking

barbie flushes a fierce red, looking away quickly and feeling horribly invasive and gross. she gets up briskly and walks over to the bathroom, muttering a ‘sorry’ the whole way there

she shuts herself in, but the door is just barely closed when gloria knocks on it

barbie is shaking, but she opens it. she hasnt even turned the light on, and she is a tall shadow in the doorway

she and gloria stare at each other, for a few moments, the tension palpable

and then gloria pulls barbie down and kisses her

and fucking finally

(is what the kens say. and allan. everyone who knows them, pretty much.)

they start dating and are long distance while they go to school

barbie does this thing where she wears the pink flowery bandaids on her finger, the kind that gloria had on the night they first met

it kinda helps her feel like she is showing off her loyalty. it’s like her version of a promise ring, essentially

she also takes exceptional care of her hands, after gloria tells her how soft they are despite the expected callouses from years of drumming

granted, her right (and dominant) hand is a little more roughened up than her left, but they’re still very soft

(plus that little callousness, that touch of roughness, is delicious on gloria’s belly, trembling and pulled taut, as the softness of barbie’s other hand travels up the inside of gloria’s thigh and in between her legs)

(i mean come on. just because barbie isn’t a guitarist doesn’t mean her fingers aren’t deft and very skilled.)

gloria is a rockstar gf

no seriously like she’s at every one of barbie’s gigs, front row, and barbie dedicates every show to her.

(she kisses the bandaids on her fingers to give herself luck as well.)

barbie turns 22, and ken helps her paint her drum set pink. she also gets pink drumsticks

as a birthday gift, gloria gets barbie this heart shaped locket where she can put any picture in it

(barbie, of course, puts a picture of them kissing in it)

(gloria melts)

as a surprise, for their anniversary, barbie secretly writes a song for gloria. and at their gig, she performs it at the end of their set

gloria starts crying as she watches barbie sing and listens to her beautiful voice, knowing the song is just for her and how hard barbie must have worked on it

barbie pulls her onstage at the end of the song

and her hair is all messy and tousled, face glistening with light sweat, body warm and wired with energy, hands on gloria’s waist, blue eyes twinkling and smile so pretty and brilliant and in love

and so is gloria, so she throws herself around barbie and kisses her passionately, right under the pink concert lights in front of everyone

because her gf is a rockstar!!!!!

SORRY THIS IS MESSY but i needed to get it out <33 THEY ARE SO CUTE! my bbys

[heartlilith]

Hi if it’s not to much of a hassle can u talk about the themes of the 12th house profection year, specifically the age of 23? I’m an 8th house stellium so I think I’ll been good but I’ve just been reading things that make me nervous

Im in my 12th house profection year right now! Thankfully I'm almost done as my birthday is in August.

It really depends on the ruler of the 12th house, it's house placement in your natal chart, along with the aspects it makes. Also where the natal 12th house lord lands in your solar return chart and aspects to it as well. Say your 12th house lord is Jupiter, meaning you have Sagittarius in the 12th house. This year is likely to be more on the beneficial side because its Jupiter. But if your natal Jupiter is tied up with a lot of tight squares and oppositions, it could expand the negativity and problems, instead of being the positive Jupiter we all know and love.

If your 12th house is ruled by Pluto, we can agree that it's going to be a very transformational year, on top of the 12th house already being transformational. Everyone gets scared of Pluto and for good reason, anything can happen. All that's promised is you won't be the same when you come out of this profection year. Let's say Pluto, in whatever house it may be, is aspected well. It's mostly making trines and sextiles, maybe has one square and one conjunction (conjunctions can go either way as they amplify the energy). So for the most part it's fine. You could transform spiritually and come out of the year with a strong sense of oneness, religious/spiritual beliefs, you could go on a retreat and it could change your life. Change as well as death/rebirth isn't always a bad thing. It may start out "bad" but by the end of the year, you'll understand why it had to happen.

On its own, the 12th house profection year is a year where you will lose a lot. You could lose your job, friends, a relationship, yourself. 12th house year has a way of stripping everything from you that's even the slightest bit shaky, which can be very hard. 12th house also rules the unseen, everything we know is real but doesn't have a physical form so dreams, higher realms, "oneness", addictions. It also rules retreats, drugs/alcohol, hospitals, prison, philantrophy, spirituality, "wokeness", and deception/the hidden. All or some of these themes are going to show up for you, which shouldn't be too too bad since you have a lot of 8th house influence.

The benefits to the 12th house profection year is that it's getting you ready for the beginning of a new cycle, which starts with the 1st house (you, how you perceive the world, how you look) so it's getting you ready for a rebirth. You can't make room for new if you don't release the old. Don't hang on tight to anything, try to go with the flow as much as possible. You're at the end of this cycle now so you could even be getting revelations out of nowhere or gain a sense of clarity that you didn't have before. It's kind of hard to explain it to you, but you'll understand when you experience it.

Things to remember/advice: lean into spirituality, psychic powers, yoga, meditation, donate to charity, volunteer, be detached from outcomes, know that everything is happening for a reason even if you don't know the reason yet, nothing lasts forever (which is good and bad). Pay attention to your thoughts, start therapy, ask for help. Spend time in nature, practice good coping skills, no drugs alcohol or gambling, don't give in to addictive things because this is a year where those habits will form very quickly.

Hope this helps!

[moonlightguidesky]

WARNING: METION OF GUNFIRE, BOMBING, KILLING A MINOR

You have been warned

Chapter 6: A friend and Work

She wakes up to the sound of clanking, groaning before going to rub her eyes. Yawning as she pushed herself to sit up from her sleeping bag, looking around she saw him.

"Estas despierta, good." Jake comments as he closes the lid to the pot.

The warmth of the fire lit make it better as a small whisp of wind came, she doesn't shiver. He gets up before walking to his pack as she pulls the lid of the pot, the sight of a liquid inside of it.

"It's tea." He answers before she can even ask what it was.

Looking up at him before he sights go back to what she know knows is tea, it had a sweet aroma with hints of bitterness as it bubbled.

"You like tea?" She ask as he sighs before giving a half nod as he went back to whatever he was digging from their pack.

She nods to no one as she layed back on her sleeping bag, the ground tough and yet soft all at the same time. It was mostly silent besides the sounds of the fire crackling near her before deciding she was bored. Grabbing her bag as she tries and find the book she still had from the day she left her dorm room in the orphanage.

Back when she was at the QZ all they ever told her was that nothing in the library or whatever that place was would keep her alive. She knew that, but it wasn't for her benefit, it was to keep her sain.

The constant drills of military drilled into her skull the minute she was in that damn orphanage, the beating she took for who knew what the girls would make up about why they did what they did. She just took it before going back to the nurse who just knew from footsteps who was coming to see her.

All she would want to do at the end of the day was listen to any type of background music and pick her book to leave the world for a second. Even just a second to keep her going, the stories filling her brain with ever little knowledge it had to offer her.

She was alone for the most part anyways since her roommate would always leave the minute she got there. She never had friends, not really, just herself, and most times she was okay with it.

But she would yearn for what she had before, mourn the lost of connection with people who just understood, her parents understood.

A cloth was thrown at her face before she could even try to stop it, she's thrown a back by the action as the cloth falls on her lap.

"Ow." 

"Tie that in your hair." He instruct as he put on a black newsboy cap, some curls were stick out before he tucked them inside, the little bits of curls hanging from back instead.

She looks at the cloth, it looks like a bandanna, she starts to grab her hair and bundles them up into a pony tail, grabbing as much hair as she could.

She wraps it once before going again, the pony tail tightens as she fixes it the best she can, the wind blowing in the back of neck now that there was more space for it to flow through.

"Ten." He throws another thing at her as this time she is paying attention and grabbing it, it's a hat, not like his. It's a baseball hat with on little symbol on it, a black beetle on it.

Pushing some of her hair back before putting on the cap, it fits snugly, she pulls some of her curls up front. They hang in front of her before she looks back at him.

He had took the little pot off and had two tin cans up, he poured the tea into the cans, the steam coming out the make shift cups before he dumps the rest to the fire as it dies out from the liquid.

He pushs the cup in front of her for her to take.

"Drink it before we leave." She nods before blowing into the tea. He follows before going for it and drinking the brown liquid. He hold it upside down before putting it back into his pack.

She slowly finishes hers before stuffing it into her backpack, they pack up whatever was left and continued walking, the sky start to slowly erupt with colors of orange and yellow.

They make it a two miles from the borders of Libya before he stops. She stops behind him as he turns to her with a serious expression which made her confused.

"Tenemos que hablar de reglas antes de llegar a Libya." He states.

"Rules?"

"Yes."

Then he starts and lays out the rules for this whole thing. He talked about it with Marc and Steven, they both knew what can happen in other places and how bad something can get. They need to make sure she wasn't a victim to whatever was pulled until they get to one of Jake contacts.

"One, if anybody offers you something, you don't take it."

"Okay, so stranger danger type of stuff then." She remarks before he nods. "I know that stuff already, anything else?" She inquires.

"Don't tell anybody about your-" He stops before look at her shoulder where her bite mark is engraved into her skin. "Condition, you show it or tell anybody they will kill you. No hesitation."

She nods as she knows the risk that she was in, any slight could end with her brains being blown out because of instinct to the sight.

"Finalmente, you do what we say when we say it. Me entiendes." He said not as a question but a statement. She gives a nod. 

It's not enough, she needs to understand.

"Repeat it."

"Whatever you guys say goes." He sighs but take the responds as he nods before they continue in the territory from the borders of Egypt passing into Libya.

Sellers and Auctions were happening everywhere, this was a place where a majority of trading and Smugglers would gather to sell and take what they could from this market.

She gazed at everything she saw, photos, books, jewelry, food and drinks of all kind that could be thought of was there. Conversation of the ton were being held as he pushed forward to keep going through the crowds that bundle and wouldn't let up.

The smells of spices and burning rubber was strong in the air, yet still felt dry as they walked through this makeshift market Jake had taken them to.

He guides her through the place as people were grouped trying to make deals with other sellers. She looked at almost everything that was being shown, the amount of objects she wished she could touch out of reach since he kept her going in certain direction.

Many turns from left and rights lead them to one stall, the articles of objects that the stall contained were all types that dangled infront of it like beads and clothing as the seller look at Jake with his best charming grin he can make.

A way to lower any type of wall the man might have.

"!قميص للفتاة يا سيدي"

The man spoke as he pushs forward a shirt, it was in pretty good condition, the orange shirt littered with butterflies and bees. She looks at it with curiosity as she hadn't seen that design before, she was use to graphic tees or plain shirts and not patterned ones.

Jake looks at the shirt with the upmost disinterest. 

"قميص جميل لفتاة جميلة"

The man compliments but Jake being Jake doesn't care before giving his answer of "She's good." Saying this all makes the man falter before he sees him pulling out a coin, the man looks at the coin, his face turning into a more composed and calm expression as to not look suspicious. He scans them before giving his nod of approval as he tilts his head slightly.

Jake nods in return as he pushes back the bright yellow cloth from the stall to show an allyway, "Stay close." He instruct as they move through other people who found themselves in this system of pathways.

She noticed all the different types of people that walked through, all with coverings she probably would need at some point if she doesn't want skin cancer anytime soon.

God, she would rather get a heat stroke than, well, anything that's worse than that.

A camel comes into sight and immediately she awes at animal.

"Camel." she mutters as she looked at the two humped mammal, she loved camels, she loved animals in general but she really liked camel, they were just so cool. 

Thought they were beyond useful and were pretty self sustaining on their own. There was barely any animals in the QZ, but when she did see one she wanted nothing more than to learn about the animal.

How did they live? What do they eat? How long do they last for? Can you train them? 

All the questions consumed her before she remembers that she is literally in an unknown and place and she has a higher chance of getting lost or kidnapped again here if she doesn't stick with the guy. So she makes it her mission to keep up with him, like she was suppose to.

Her face meet a harden muscle surface as she is shoved back, she falls back and lands on her ass. Looking up she see who exactly she "collided" with. 

 " !شاهد هذه"

A grating voice grabs her attention before she pushes herself up as she looks at who it was that she had smashed into and immediately felt a chill go down her spine.

The guy was freakishly tall, the color of his hair pepper and salt as it looked greasy to the touch, she notices small amount of blood on his face, he looked pissed.

Of course she she manages to upset a God damn giant while she's at it. 

"Sorry." The mutter apology is all she can out as the guy snarls at her as she notices his first starting to form into a fist, his knuckles turning white and nails digging into his palm.

"I just apologized!" The girl defends herself as the man could give two fuck whether she did or not. He was provoked by a damn 14 year who just happen to be going in the same direction as him.

This causes her to back up even more as she looks at the ground to make herself smaller, maybe then he'll leave her alone if he doesn't see her as a threat to whatever stride he had going on in that thick skull of him. 

The sound a familiar of heavy footsteps gets both attention as Jake stops a little way close to the man. He looked irritated, his jaw clenched and his eyes bore into the man.

The words that came out his mouth were firm as he stood his ground ".قالت إنها آسف." The two men look at each other and neither would move. Jake gestures the girl to move and with the message received she goes behind him as Jake made sure there was a space between her and the man twice her size.

The man looks ready to test his luck and try to get a hit at Jake and then the girl.

Jake stares the man down, his eyes lifeless and with obvious intent to not back down what the man wanted. Before he could he sees a cresnt symbol on Jake, his ring. He hears a scoff as the man's fiat slowly decompressed from their enlarged state, "راقبها." The man hissed at Jake before walking away while mumbling under his breath.

They watch as the man walks away before Jake looks back at the girl. "Watch where your going." He reprimand as she wants to retaliate, it wasn't her fault that guy didn't see her. 

If anything, it was that asshole who should have apologized, he pushed her.

"He didn't see me, I wasn't even in his way." She defends herself as the Jake just scoffs at her words. He shakes his head, he doesn't have time for this.

"These people don't care whether your young or old, girl or boy, they will kill you." He chides her as she looked deep into his eyes, he tells the harsh real truth. Some people wouldn't care if she was a kid or not, they would do what they believe she deserves.

"Fine, asshole." She grumbles as she stormed forward from him in annoyance, he exhales a breath before before grumbling under his breath "Escuincla."

He walks and reaches her before passing as she reluctantly follows behind, they finally reached a space between five different allyways connected into one space. It's crowded with meetings and negotiations away from the public areas of the others who just past by.

Some stop and look at them before hushed whispers that echoed out in the air, she feels chicken skin beginning to surface. Yet, she doesn't show it. 

'Strong.'

The word pops in her head before her face changes to a stoic expression, they keep looking before going back to their own conversations again.

He waits for her to move but she doesn't and stay still.

He firmly grabs her shoulders causing her to flinch for a second but they relaxed as he turned her to the left into a red overgrown building. They walked up the stairs as she sees the cracks and bullet holes slowly start to fade with each step up.

People were in the hallways, kids running before going around them as Jake put her in front, leading her who knew where. 

"Where are we going?" She questions before an abrupt stop came, she turns and see it. It looked like a restaurant or something similar to it, it was small but seemed to be functioning well. 

"Come on." Jake says already inside, there are men and women either sitting or at the counter making food and taking orders, it seem peaceful. "Gena!" He shouts out before a woman turns around from behind the counter and her eyes widen.

"Jake?" She mumbles before moving pass the other employees with a small smile on her face. She looks surprised but more than anything relief of seeing him.

"It's been long, huh?" Jake says as he puts his hand out to shake and she shakes it, both showing respect for another. "It has." She answers as she looked at him. 

He had this look in this eye. She knew what it meant even after years of seeing each other now.

"Let go talk somewhere a little more private." She suggest as Jake nods before looking at the girl, he needs to do something about her. "Hold on." He ask Gena as she nods.

"Comes algo aquí. Don't move from here, got it." Jake said as he handed her some ration cards and watched as Katalina could only eye the paper before walking up to the counter and ordering food for herself. Once she sat down in a corner of the place he went to where Gena was waiting.

"Ray, Ricky!" Gena calls over two young boys who stop cleaning off some tables that had yet be clean up, putting the rag down and walked over to her, "yeah?" They both said as they looked at their mother.

"Keep an eye on her, alright?" She ask then as she points to Katalina who is playing with her hair, she parts a strand of her hair into smaller strands with her fingers. They curl at her fingertips before she let's it falls and starts the process again.

They nod as they go back to their task at hand, Jake opens the door for Gena as they both walked into another room. 

Katalina waits for what she ordered as she sees the guy and lady he shook hands with enter another room to talk to each other, not sure about what since the guy didn't tell her much. 

The inside of this place was almost a harsh noise, but she didn't mind it all that much. She felt the vibration of the sounds bouncing off the walls and into seemingly nowhere, it took a second to get accustomed to but eventually the ringing stopped and all she heard was noise. 

The chatter had fizzled to the sound of ambiance of plates clanking and words spoken from the people who wished to speak.

A plate is set down which catches her by surprise, the urge to grab her knife kicked in as she looks up at who had spooked her. Dark brown eyes meet her's as he put down utensils and a foam cup with the sound of the liquid sloshing inside taking her attention instead.

The words of "استمتع بطعامك" come out as she nods and he leaves to where ever else he is needed. Looking down at the food she hears her stomach growl, a slight warmth reaches her face as she heard the noise.

The dish filled her nose with all types of smells of spices, nothing overdone and just the right amount. Perfection one might even say. She could feel her mouth water from it, she hasn't had cooked food in who knew how long—it's been years is all she knows.

She doesn't hesitate as she digs into the food, she eat's it all as her belly fills while she begins to questions what exactly they plan on getting help from in a restaurant. She suppose some connections can come from a place where people group or meet up but it didn't seem like the place.

Maybe that's why she isn't convinced that the guy didn't have much connection as she thought or really had much of plan to even get on whatever boat Khonshu had told them to get to.

She keeps eating as two guys, both seeming almost the same age as her, maybe one a year or two older than her glance at her every once in a while as she ate She feels their stares, not of malice but it was just weird.

She stares at them back which leads to them finally letting up and go back to their work.

'Weirdos,' She thinks.

Jake and Gena arrive into another room in the building, it looked like the remaining of a office, a table and couch being the real thing that took up the room. Gena closes the door behind her before she looks at Jake and begins her investigation on why he's here and with a child no less. "So, what brings you back here Jake?" 

He sits down as he takes off his cap, his curls falling down before looking back up at the women. "I need your help." He starts off with.

She hums at this before crossing her arms against her chest, "And that girl, she yours?" She questions him as he scoffed a chuckle.

"That brat. No." His tone laced with slight annoyance.

"Alright then, who is she, Jake?" She asks him, and her gaze, drilling into his.

"Some girl we need to take somewhere." 

"Where?" Her eyebrow lifts at the very abstract information she's getting from him. He knew why she was questioning him, it was rare to even be seen near children, much less bring one with him.

She is important if he had brought her here, Jake knew that Gena knew this.

"That's why we came here, we your help. We need to find Crawley."He finally comes out and says, she stand still for a second, the air tense. "Are you sure? He hasn't been himself in a while since, you know."

She caution him, the man they both knew hasn't been the same since his son died being chased by some gang members before falling to his death in hopes of escaping them. Crawley left after that by himself and only kept contact by radio and other sources of people whispers who were the messengers for him.

Other than that, he was off the map. Completely wiped from the face of the earth.

"Yes. lo necesitamos." Jake insisted as Gena eyes flickered with his before sighing and putting her hands on her hips. Her gaze lowers to the ground as she thinks about this. After coming to a conclusion she sighs before nodding "Alright. Give me a second to find one of his communicator." 

He nods of gratitude as she leaves the room living him behind.

He sense a werid sensation before looking at his hat and deciding that he wants to out it back on, he fixes his hair before putting back the cap he had back on his head as he waits for Gena to return.

"Jake." A voice comes out and he looks around, he eventually finds the mirror and finds Marc and Steven, the two looking at him one concerned and the other more impatient.

"Qué?" 

"Where is the girl?" Steven eyebrows were creased as he looked at the alter, Jake thinks if he did that anymore that his face would get stuck like that. 

Why does he keep worrying about the mocosa? It been 30 min at best since they left her alone.

"She's fine Steven, Gena niños are watching her for now." He assures him as Steven sighs not completely satisfied with the answer but knows its what he's gonna get from the alter.

"What did Gena say then, she know where Crawley is?" It was Marc time to talk to him now. His arms crossed against his chest as he looks at Jake for answers.

"Ella está recibiendo la información ahorita." He answer as Marc nods and looks at Steven who can on look at the door to the outside of the restaurant. He sighs before he decides to get up and look from the blinds to give Steven a peace of mind.

He pulls down the blind slightly to look outside, he doesn't need much time before he finds her, it seems like she finished her food. Gena two sons are sitting with her at the table.

They seem to be talking about something, he can't read the lips of the kids from there but he sees cards on the table as they all seemed to have some cards in their hands. Her having two and the boys with five and seven cards.

"Uno?" Marc questions as he looks over and see the colorful cards, he hasn't seen those playing cards in who knows how long. 

Marc and Randall would play Uno once he got older when Marc and his dad would play it on the table after dinner. The dining table was cleared as the smell of the dinner would still linger in the air as he would get the cards from a red box where other games were placed.

The room would be dimmed in a yellowish glow from the lamps and ceiling fan that would be turn on as a slight cold air would swirl them, not cold enough to make him shiver but to keep him awake.

It would always be on a Friday when his dad had a chance, if not him then Wendy would, but only a few rounds before tending back to baby Roro. When him and dad would play however, Wendy would watch as Randall babble as he and his dad would compete to win the fastest.

Most of time he won, but he thinks his dad let him.

He feels his eyes and nose burn, he wants to be numb, he wish there was some type of whisky around. Maybe they could buy some before they leave from here, drink while the kid is asleep so that she wouldn't know, not like she didn't already.

He wasn't exactly hiding the bottles he had on the table when they had to take her to their apartment at the beginning of this. He hated whatever this was still.

'Wait, why did he care if the kid saw him drunk? It's not like he's trying to be a good role model for the kid, it would make Steven and sometimes Jake upset if he did though.'

Jake let's go of the blinds and goes back to sit down and wait for Gena, it doesn't take long as she walks in with a piece of paper in hand. She puts it down for him to see, it's from latitude to longitude, opening a desk she pulls out a map and pencil.

"He should be about 23° 43' 8.112'' North and 44° 39' 47.3436'' East from here." She points out as she makes a line to a place called Sabhā close to the border of Algeria. He hums at this, that would make things easier, close they were to where they need to go and get maybe car or vehicle to make the trip faster would help from Crawley at the same time, two birds with one stone.

"Aww come on!" A groaned complain was heard as the two adults look at each other before going to the door and opening. The kid had a shit eating grin on her face as the two boys look completely defeated.

"What’s going on?" Gena asked the kids as her kids looked at their mom. "How does she keep beating us, she's never even played before?!" The two whined as Jake looks at the kid who just shrugs her shoulders.

There was a small notepad with the letters of the kids first initial and it seemed like Katalina had been winning since the second time they played together. He can hear a small chuckle as he looks around for a reflection with a Steven covering his mouth with his hand as his eyes were wrinkled at each end.

The kids got a knack for Uno it seemed. Jake felt a small twitch at the end of his lips before realizing it and suppressing it before anyone noticed.

"Alright you two, back to work before you get beat by her again." Gena says as the two sulked and got up from the chair before handing the girl two objects, it was a pin and hairclip.

The hairclip was of a dragonfly, it's wings made of silver with little spots of rust, but the hairclip never lost its shape even with the small bits of rist that covered its wings and body. 

She grabs her bag as she puts the hairclip in her bag before grabbing the pin in the shape of a beetle and stuck it to her backpack. The sound of a click makes her let go and puts the bag back on the floor.

They make their way towards her as she hears their footsteps and looks up to see them.

"So. Did you get what you needed from here?" The girl asked as he nods. 

"What now?" 

"One last thing I need to ask her before we leave." He says before looking at her plate. She's eaten the entire soup without problem. She looks much more awake than she had in the past couple of days of walking they had to do.

She cringes at this before deciding to put her head down on the table. It was the waiting game again, she doesn't mind but she was on a roll with her the game andnwas winning before they came over and took her new competitors away. He rolls his eyes as he sees the girl putting her head down.

'Teenagers.'

Jake can feel the moment his eyes rolled to the back and he was once again in the mind space as Steven took over. He blinks a couple times before looking at the girl.

He looks at the table with the empty bowl and cup .

She's been fed, good.

"Don't worry, it'll only take a sec." He tries to reassure her.

"Steven?" She ask in surprise of the British man appearance.

"Yeah?" 

"Don't take long. We might have to stay here for the night if we do, the day has been more than halfway done now." She informs him, her eyebrows knitted in concern.

From what she has seen, it might not be a good idea to wonder during the night.

He looks at the window to see that the sun was starting to go down, the hues of blue and orange are starting to warn them that probably need to hurry up soon with this.

He nods as he goes over to where he last saw Gena. She turns and looks at him. "Needed something else?"

"Yeah, Marc asked if there was a way to get a ride to get closer to Crowly location? It would take us a while to get to where he is and where we are." Steven points out.

"There might, but of course everything comes with a price. You guys up for it?" Gena ask the man as he looks at the pot to a Marc and Jake who nod and he sighs.

"What's the job?" He ask.

"Follow every rule that Gena ask of you, I'll be back in a day or two." Marc tells the girl as she looks at him in disbelief.

"Why do you even need to do this job?" She questions as he packs his bag with what he thinks this job might need. He can't bring the kid cause it'll be too dangerous for her to even be near the damn place. He also trust that Gena will protect her while he leaves for this job.

"We might be able to get a ride to our next location." He explains.

"Why can't I come?" 

"It's too dangerous and I don't trust you to not get killed."

"I can help though!" She protest.

"This isn't up for discussion kid." His statement absolute. He wasn't taking her anywhere that had a sure chance she would get killed in the process. 

It would reckless and impulsive, they knew better than that. 

Not to mention he didn't exactly trust who it was he had to do this job for, but it would help cut the time from a month and a half trip into just about a month. It had already been a month with the kid in their protection.

He could only hope these guys don't skrew them with this. He doesn't want to get his hand any more dirty than they were about to be.

She's upset but better that than dead.

"Marc, can you give her the thing we found." Steven whispered as he looks at the mirror in the room that Gena had given them for three nights now. They had to pay her back for this at some point, he make a mental note of this.

With a heavy sigh he digs through the backpack, the feeling of slightly ripped flimsy paper is finally felt as he pulls it out of the hold the bag had on it. They had found it while scavenging for some supplies, Steven said to take for the kid.

Marc and Jake said it was a waste of perfectly good space dor other important things but Steven wouldn't take no for an answer on it.

"Here. To keep you entertained." He says as he toss three comic books in her direction, the sound of the comics grabbing her attention as she looked at them. The front page filled with faded color but the image perfect to still make out it shape. Bottom part was ripped but didn't take away from its artistic style only adding more to it.

She doesn't utter of word, not even a noise. 

'They got this, for her?'

Marc waits for anything from the kid but nothing really happens, only her shoulders stopped looking tense from her previous upset state. More than anything she looks surprised, or maybe taken aback of gift given to her.

He finally loses patience to wait for a responds as he sees the sun the stars starting to shine soon, a faded light of the moon glimmered afar to reminding him he needs to hurry up or he will be late to the site he needs to be at right now.

"We'll be back. Don't get into any trouble." He says as grabs his stuffed pack before grabbing the pistol on top of the drawer checking one last time that it was filled and ready in case of anything were to go wrong. The pistol slids in the holster on the side of his tigh. He doesn't look back at the girl as he walks towards the door.

"Okay." A sullen voice is heard, without hesitation he colses the behind him as he walked towards the location of the meeting with the client and a group of others hired to do this job.

The sound of the door closing causes her to look up and find that he had left, the sound of the room silent as the softer noise of people outside took over. She was left behind for safety reasons, she knew she would just be a burden. But she at least wanted to show she could learn how to not be one, but with the tone he used — he would never consider it.

Looking at the comics Marc had left for her, she stares at it for a second before she reaches for the comics. She feels how fragile they seem as she carefully feels the now slightly rough cover. Wrinkles and small tear on the corners from years of sitting on the shelf and possible being consider to take only to be left behind again.

Still, it looked in good condition to read.

"Ultimate Comics Spider-man." She reads out at she feels the comic, the front cover showing someone in a costume with a web design and a red outline on a spider on their chest as they looked to be swinging by white rope coming out their wrist.

'That looks tight, no? Would it be hard to breathe in?'

She questions as she opens the first page and starts to read what was left behind for her.

The night was cold as he went through alley after alley, vendors voices of the night in the background as he eventually made it to the deepest part of the town. The feeling of a cold wind coming as he finally reaches the start point of the job.

 "إنه هنا "

A voice calling him out as he is the last one to arrive, he sees a group of men all with their own weapons and dress up for this Mission. He walks over with his own get up, leather gloves the way Lockly liked, a mask with wrapping on it making it more breathable and comfortable than the plastic ones the other men were wearing. 

His outfit consisting of a white hoodie, grey shirt, and blue jeans. Simple and flexible, their curls were combed back requested by Jake and Marc since it always seemed to cover thier eyesight sometimes. The pack they carried on their shoulder full of weapons or any equipment they might need.

At the corner of his eye he sees one of the members reaching in a box, grabbing what seemed like a vest of some sort. It's thrown at his direction, with fast reflex he catches it mid air before clicking the vest into place. One of the men scowled at him before the one next to him nudged him harshly earning him a glare.

"حسنًا ، نحن جميعًا هنا."

A man with a mask covering his lower half of his face turns to face all the men gathered for this job and speaks to them. "أنت تعرف موقفك ، اذهب" they all nod as the men are spread out to get the supplies from another group that had been ripping people off with their "deals".

He climbs up one of the ladders that had been placed there for him as he jumps from roof to roof to where the location had been located a couple days ago. Once he arrives and in position, he sees two other men go onto the side of other roofs around the building to get a clear shot of anybody who could interfere with their plan. 

Any guards or allies being in the line of shot by the two who had bows and a sniper ready at the mark.

Finally he gets the signal to keep going inside, a small sound of whisp let's him know that anyone in a close radius to spot him were gone, he jumps on the roof and looks down. The building was filled with people, a fire pit being the only thing light up the place. 

He looks around for the opening and finds a window, it's open so he with light steps he walks over and steady himself. Sitting down on the ledge before grabbing the edges and letting himself drop slightly towards the window edge. With a small grunt he gets inside and waits a second to make secure the room he was in.

[thursdayygrrrl]

hairstyles and revelations

⌦ .｡.:*♡

characters: cassie howard x gn!reader (they have hair long enough to style)

genre: very very very slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, kinda idiots in love, first kiss

summary/excerpt: Maddy, Kat, and BB were supposed to be there but they all ditched. Maddy said she was going to be with Nate (which you thought was a lie since you all knew they weren’t on speaking terms at the moment, but you just let her go anyway because you didn’t want to put up with a fight). Kat said she had “things to do” and didn’t elaborate further while BB just ghosted. Leaving you and Cassie alone.

word count: 2,011

a/n: idk how to feel abt this ole draft but i thought it wouldn’t hurt to post since someone might wanna read it. also, the title sucks, it’s a bit self-indulgent, and it isn’t proofread (english isn't really my first language pls bear with me) so... don’t expect too much but happy reading anyways!

You and Cassie were in your room and you were nervous out of your mind. You had a small crush on her when you first met, but you were sure it was a superficial attraction solely based on looks. Once you spent more time with these girls, you weren’t quite sure if your crush on the blonde was still superficial. You could tell by your heartbeat and the million thoughts that were flooding your head.

One does not get this nervous when hanging out with a friend. Or at least a friend who you were pretty sure you were good at faking your feelings in front of.

Maddy, Kat, and BB were supposed to be there but they all ditched. Maddy said she was going to be with Nate (which you thought was a lie since you all knew they weren’t on speaking terms at the moment, but you just let her go anyway because you didn’t want to put up with a fight). Kat said she had “things to do” and didn’t elaborate further while BB just ghosted. Leaving you and Cassie alone.

When you hung out with her, it was always in a group setting. You thought she had discovered your crush on her and didn’t want to be around you alone because it made her uncomfortable.

You got the memo. It’s happened before, with your former “friends”.

You let that thought pass while scrolling through Netflix, trying to choose a movie to watch. She took in your room through her eyes. You didn’t know it, but she was trying to capture every tiny detail of you. Every poster up on your walls, every trinket on your bedside table, every book on your shelves. She wanted to know more than just the surface, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask you. Instead, she settled with silently admiring you from afar.

You position yourself and the laptop on your bed and finally clicked play on something.

When she hears it start playing, she makes her way over and sits next to you. You hand her a pillow while she asks you a question.

“What are we watching, Y/N?” 

“Bodies Bodies Bodies.” 

“Cool.” 

She nods. Both of you are unsure what to do now, so you let the movie fill the awkward silence that took over. You decide to calm down. Or at least try your best to do so. With that, you let yourself pay full attention to the movie despite having already seen it before. 

You don’t notice Cassie catching glimpses of you. She takes in your eyes, the curve of your cheek, the pinkness of your lips, and your silky hair. Specifically, the way it lays and flows, how you unconsciously play with it, and how you never seem to do anything with it. The most “done-up” your hair had ever been, at least to her, was during the winter formal. It was curled, made to frame your face. Simple, understated, and perfect. She couldn’t look away from you that night, and neither can she now.

When the movie hits a lull, you finally look at Cassie, only to catch her staring right at you.

“Woah, why are we… Do I have something on my face?” 

“Um, no, I was just—just looking at you.” 

She sounds flustered as she looks away, averting her gaze from you to your sheets

“Okay. May I ask why?” 

“It’s just, I think your hair looks good like all the time.” 

“Oh. Tha—” 

You didn’t know she paid that much attention to you. 

She cuts you off. A habit of hers you’ve grown fond of.

“Not saying that you should always be styling it or whatever. You should do what makes you comfortable and all but,” She hesitates. “I can’t help but think of braiding it.” 

“Huh?” 

“You know those braids we have during pep rallies and games? I do those and I wanna see what they look like on you.” 

You knew, you even saw her do Maddy’s hair before these events. Some of those braids looked intricate. You vividly remember thinking that Cassie was good with her hands. 

God, you need to get your mind out of the gutter. 

The thought of her hands running through your hair always seemed enticing. You’ll admit you fantasized about it sometimes. Maybe this would be a good way to grow closer to her. And, let’s be honest, you couldn’t say no to her.

“Sure, let me get a comb and some elastics.” 

You got up to find these items and sat in the middle of your bed once you had them. You rested your hands between your thighs, unsure of what to do with them now that you placed the supplies beside you. The mattress dipped as Cassie positioned herself behind you, on her knees to get a better view of the top of your head. She combed your hair to get rid of any tangles and parted it down the middle with gentle fingers. Then she got to work, setting aside the left portion of your hair to work with the right one first. You began to speak, letting the dialogue of the movie serve as background noise.

“I like hanging out with you, Cassie.” 

“Me too, Y/N. Thanks for having me over even without the others.” 

You waved her off to indicate that she didn’t have to thank you. 

“Are you liking the movie?” 

In truth, Cassie was only paying attention to you.

“I am! I love Alice.” 

“She’s so funny, I love her!” 

Another silence, save for the movie. You decide to speak up again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why is it that we—um, we never hang out? Like just the two of us?” 

She doesn’t respond.

Shit. Fuck, shit, motherfucking shit. 

Sometimes, you really should think harder before speaking.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I asked you that. I—fuck, um.” 

You swore under your breath. It was all you could think to say. She snaps you out of yourself.

“Hey, no. It’s okay.” 

She pauses, takes a breath, and continues.

“You never asked before. And I thought you didn’t like me so I didn’t wanna force myself on you.” 

The thought of Cassie thinking you didn’t like her made you want to vomit. Because the truth was that you liked her so much, it made you want to scream. To fall off a balcony. To hit something with a baseball bat. To do stupid, cheesy, romantic things that she always wanted from whatever guy she was seeing. Stuff like posting each other on your Instagram stories, wearing matching outfits, calling each other “honeybunch” or some other cringe-worthy pet name.

“What?” 

You asked exaggeratedly, dragging out the last syllable like a sitcom character caught in a lie, in a vain attempt to disguise the nervousness in your voice. 

“Remember when we first met? I asked you what your name was and it took you. like, a full minute to respond. And the last time we were all together at Kat’s house, you didn’t wanna sit beside me even if it was the only spot left. And it’s not like we talk outside of the group all that much.” 

You were grateful that you weren’t face-to-face with her at that moment because your eyes were freakishly wide. You didn’t realize that she noticed how you avoided her and how awkward you were around her. Regaining some composure, you mumbled.

“Thought you wouldn’t notice that.” 

“Well, I did.” 

Against all better judgment, you decided to just tell her and get it over with. People take risks all the time. You convince yourself that another one wouldn’t hurt. You unconsciously brace yourself for whatever’s about to happen.

“I like you, Cassie.” 

“Yeah, I know. You already said that, Y/N.” 

She says. You can hear the slight smirk in her voice, which will always be one of your favorite sounds. 

“No, I said I like hanging out with you. What I mean now is that—is I like like you. As in I have a crush on you.” 

Cassie’s fingers stop moving. You thought your question was bad? Now you think you’ve gone too far, that you were too blunt, that you fucked up yet another friendship all because you caught feelings. She could rip your hair off your scalp and you wouldn’t blame her.

The silence from her was unbearable. You tried to pivot, moving to face her, but she held you still. Her grip on your hair remained firm, not allowing you to turn around.

“Wait, don’t move. I don’t wanna have to redo this.” 

“But—” 

She interrupts you again. Using your words, she confesses. The words come out in a whisper.

“I like like you too, Y/N.” 

Now, it’s your turn to fall silent. You blink dumbfoundedly as it sinks in. 

“Wait. You—you’re lying.” 

She finishes up, securing your hair neatly with an elastic. You could feel the slight pressure on your scalp. Cassie moves her hands to the other side. 

How is she still so calm about this? 

"I’m not! I really do like you. And that’s why I respected your decision to not be with me outside of the group.” 

“The only reason I didn’t make moves to talk or hang out with just you is because I thought you already knew I had a thing for you and you got weirded out or something!” 

She couldn’t help but laugh at the incredulity of your shared predicament, especially at all the awkwardness the two of you could have avoided if only one of you were brave enough to have confessed earlier. You joined her in this laughter.

“What?” She asks, puzzled and in between giggles. “There’s no way I’d ever get weirded out by you, Y/N. I thought you would be the one weirded out by me. The dumb blonde cheerleader…” She trails off.

“Oh, god, no! There’s no way I ever thought that about you, Cassie. I mean, you’re—you’re thoughtful, attentive, smart, funny…”

She tried to stop herself from smiling so wide while she fussed with your hair. You trail off.

What was that word again? 

“You’re ethereal,” you whispered.

Found it.

She had heard all sorts of words from guys before, but it never felt real. It was as if they were reading from a script. But hearing it from you was the only way it felt genuine. She could tell you were speaking from the heart. You made her feel seen.

The absence of her fingers was your cue to turn around. Once you do, the both of you bashfully avoid each other’s eye contact. 

The air felt charged, You knew you had to do something, anything, so you begin to tilt your face to see her. But she cuts you off. Her lips crash into yours in a messy but passionate kiss.

This must be a dream.

Your right hand rests on her thigh as the other one pinches your own. The sensation serves to prove that this is, in fact, not a dream.

She keeps going, the desperation in her movements almost like a plea to explore you. You allow her to take the lead. She loosely wraps her arms around your neck while yours are now around her waist. She pulls away, both of you breathing heavily and warm all over. She whispers.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time, Y/N.”

You look into her eyes, pleadingly, for a sign that this is real.

You look and all you can see is the love she has for you. It’s practically pouring out of her. You hope she sees the same from you because, by god, you feel it bursting through you. She continues.

“I’m so glad we’re friends but I’d be lying if I told you that I want us to stay like that. Just friends.”

This time, you beat her to it.

“If you’re asking me to be with you, Cass, then my answer is yes. It will always be yes.”

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 26

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter’s Note: With this chapter the last plot point starts. Pay attention to the details. They will be important later. Beta by @zaria-04

Chapter 26: The meaning of dreams

You have a weird dream. One of those that feels real while you experience it, but fades into a distant memory as soon as you wake up.

You walk the streets of New York, but you forgot why. Somewhere in Manhattan near the central park. You are probably on your way to the tower. The streets are full of people. It's rush hour and the streets are noisy: the honking of cars, people's voices, music, sirens of an ambulance in the distance.

You are not a fan of crowds. Dozens of unknown heads are all around you, wherever you look. Faceless, no eyes, no mouths. Just blank sheets.

You stuff your hands into your pockets and hunch your shoulders. If you had a hood, you would pull it over your head, hoping not to be noticed.

Suddenly you get the feeling of being followed. You sense it. But you don't quicken your steps, because the crowd is too thick. All you can do is move with the flow.

You wonder where your phone is. It should be in your bag, but you don't have one with you. That’s unusual. You look up from your side, where the shoulder bag should be hanging, and see a face in the crowd – the only face there is in the ocean of blanks. It’s just very brief, but clear and distinct. You'd recognize it anywhere, as much trouble as it's caused.

You jolt awake as if someone had punched you. Your heart races and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. Next to you Loki lies in bed, fast asleep. You shift and move to the other side of the bed – quietly – so that you won't wake him. A glance at the window shows you that it is still dark outside. You feel exhausted and have a headache.

Your dream was important, you're sure of it. You reach for your phone lying next to you on the nightstand – it tells you it's four in the morning – to write down your dream. But as you start to type, you realize you can barely grasp it.

After a few attempts to remember, which only result in your headache getting bigger, you give up. Sighing, you get up and leave Loki's room to get a glass of water in the kitchen.

Thor returned to Asgard for some time, so you two have the suite to yourselves. You take advantage of that and spend most of your free time up here.

It's the first time you've spent so much time in Loki's private quarters of the suite. Previously, he mostly sought you out since you were comfortable in your rooms in the tower and cottage. You can understand that Loki wants privacy and independence from his brother, as much as he loves him.

Still, you feel that the suite is clearly the more comfortable place to live, and not just because it has an adjoining kitchen.

Loki's private rooms have an exotic feeling to them. You're pretty sure he used magic to give them an Asgardian touch. Surprisingly, there is no single color that predominates. There is a lot of dark wood with golden accents. A gorgeous elegance without being overbearing.

A quiet voice in your head tells you that it's better if you go back to sleep. Otherwise, you'd probably regret it tomorrow. You refill your glass and take it back into the bedroom. There you put it next to your phone before snuggling back into the softest sheets you have ever lain in. The bed in your own room here in the tower is great, but Loki’s is heaven. It's like lying on a cloud.

Loki is still asleep in the middle of the bed, as if he had been looking for you during your absence. You press a kiss on the bare skin of his shoulder, and then another on his forehead because he looks so cute and at peace while sleeping. Happy with the man at your side, you close your own eyes.

The next morning you wake up late and unfortunately still feel very tired. You dully remember that you spent the rest of the night rolling from side to side in a fitful half-sleep. As a result, you're still tired and feeling a little nauseous.

Loki's side of the bed is already empty and you consider just lying there for a bit. There are no obligations waiting for you today, so no one would hold it against you if you spent a day in bed.

As if on cue, your phone beeps with a message from Elizabeth: Gabriel is awake.

You are overcome with incredible relief. But that also means you have to get up and get dressed. Because there's no way you'd postpone a visit with him.

Yawning, you drag yourself to the bathroom.

The water actually helps you feel better, and when you leave the suite fully dressed shortly after, at least the fatigue is gone.

"Jarvis, where is Loki?" you ask the A.I..

"Loki is currently in a meeting with Captain Rogers and Nick Fury," the voice from the ceiling informs you.

Presumably, they are discussing the uses of the Asgardian for future missions.

"Alright. Tell him I'm visiting my brother, but I'll be back for," you glance at the time on your phone. It's almost noon. "Dinner."

You travel to Mexico to the Josiah’s with the help of another portal circle. You are familiar with the runes by now, having visited your brother many times, always hoping he would open his eyes. Now the time has finally arrived.

He still occupies the same room, only now he sits upright in bed leaning against a pillow against his back. There's a phone in his lap, which he taps carefully with his hand, but looks up when he hears you enter.

"Hey," he greets you in a raspy voice. "You just missed Bell."

Gabriel looks better. His skin has already begun to regenerate, but even with the help of magic, it still has a long way to go. The imprint of the cross on his forehead is still very present and makes your smile fade.

"Hi." Seeing him, hearing his voice, makes you glad, but you also feel awkward. You pull the visitor's chair up to the bed and sit down, wanting to take his hand, but then refraining because it is red and swollen. "How are you feeling?"

"Grilled," he grumbles, and you suspect he's had to answer the question several times today. "My skin itches and feels too tight. And my lungs make this weird noise every time I take a breath. That said, I'm glad I'm alive. Even if this sucks."

You nod. It's only understandable to have this mix of feelings. "Look on the bright side: your left arm is the same as before." You try to crack a joke but it fails flat. Normally Gabriel likes to joke about his missing arm and the fact that he doesn't respond to it now, but only weakly raises the corners of his mouth, shows his bad mood. It's unusual for you to see him so serious.

"Yeah..."

"You talked to Josiah, right?" you ask him before a pause occurs and Gabriel nods. "So, what's the plan?"

"If I recover well, I may leave in a few days. Bell suggested I stay with her for now until I… you know." He points to his skin, but mostly to the cross branded on his forehead. "Until I can get back out among people."

"If you want, you could come to the Avengers tower. It's very spacious there. I'm sure if I talked to Tony, he wouldn't mind."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he shakes his head. "You guys are pretty much in the public eye. And I'd rather put a continent of distance between me and Canada. I have no desire for a repeat of what happened."

"I understand that."

You stay sitting with your brother for quite a while, even though you don't talk much anymore, just keeping him company for a bit. It's good to see him alive. To see him moving, to hear his voice. Even if everything is still limited and he has to slow down with everything. But he is alive. And that’s what counts.

It calms you down and takes away some of the nervousness that had afflicted you in the last few days. Everything turned out well. You don't have to worry any longer. That's what your feeling tells you, and that tiny voice in your head that is usually right about such things.

Before you say goodbye, you promise to come visit him as soon as he has moved in with Bell. And you tell him to get in touch with you if he needs anything.

And he certainly would. Along with his house, most of the things he owned were burned. While he, like all of you siblings, has made certain provisions for emergencies, accounts in other names and papers to go with them, it is still difficult to access them in his condition.

The incident actually triggers a whole chain of events that still need to be taken care of: first of all, Gabriel must die. At least on paper. There is no body, but it won’t be difficult to get the official documents. It's not the first death you've faked, and it probably won't be the last.

Next, inheritance must be taken care of, as all these things go their official course. Since you siblings don't bring a new, adjusted family tree for each identity, each life, you and Elizabeth's names don't show up anywhere. It is also a safety measure for you two.

Instead, a friend of Gabriel's, whom he trusts, will inherit everything. He will also take care of all further matters - including the fact that the witch will get his belongings back later. At least what is left of it. Everything is done in a roundabout way and is not traceable.

All this will happen over a period of several weeks, because the official authorities work slowly. Gabriel doesn't mind, he needs the time to recover and to take care of a new life.

Back in the tower, you're about to head off to see Loki when you run into him. Happy to see him, you throw your arms around his neck and steal a kiss from his lips.

"Someone is eager," he smirks. "Did you miss me?"

"What can I say? I can't resist you." You want to take a step away from him, but he puts his hands on your waist and holds you close.

"Understandable. I am irresistible," he smirks.

Grinning, you run your fingers through his long hair. Since his arrival here at the compound, it has grown even longer and curled a bit. You like the look and enjoy watching the individual strands that fall into his face every now and then as he moves. "Have you eaten dinner yet? We can get take out."

"Someone ordered pizza earlier. There are plenty of leftovers in the fridge."

"Perfect." You smile. He finally releases you and you hook up with him. "I was with Gabriel, by the way. He finally woke up."

"I'm glad to hear your brother is doing better." Loki walks by your side on his way into the compound kitchen.

"Yes, it's the best news in weeks," you smile, "Any word from Thor?"

Loki shakes his head. "No, but I wouldn't have expected any. Unless there's an emergency, he has no reason to contact me."

The truth is that Loki was secretly waiting to hear from his brother. Thor had told him that he wanted to talk to their father about his banishment. And even if Loki doesn’t have much hope that it will do any good, he can’t deny that it is constantly on his mind.

It's like he told your sister at the healer's house: he'd like to be able to show you Asgard. The place where he grew up and which is still part of him, despite everything that happened between him and Odin.

"Is it true that your city is made entirely of gold?"

Your question makes Loki smile. "It is not but in the right light it shines golden. It's breathtaking."

It sounds breathtaking. You can only hope to see it with your own eyes one day. Also, you wonder if there's a connection to the golden city of El Dorado. You wouldn't be surprised.

The elevator doors open and you enter the common living room area, next to the kitchen. Sitting at the large dining table, each with a steaming mug in front of them, are Tony and Stephen, talking. Both are in casual clothes. You would have thought that the two of them, should they ever be alone with their large egos, would at some point attack each other. Or at least yell at each other. But they appear to be relaxed and friendly.

"Stephen," Loki greets the sorcerer, because he never misses the opportunity to call him by his first name at every opportunity. Just because he knows it bothers Strange. "To what do we owe the displeasure?"

The two men with goatee look up. "They found the last piece of that crying blood sword," Tony says.

"Oh?" That makes you both perk up. If the third part of Bloodweeper has turned up, it's quite possible that you or at least Loki will have to go back into action. However, Tony and Stephen don't look like the matter is very urgent.

Stephen hasn't said anything yet. Instead, you notice him looking at you closely, with a furrowed brow. "Are you feeling alright?"

His question confuses you a bit and makes you suspicious. You feel like he knows something that has eluded you. And you don't like that. "Yes... why?"

"…just wondering," he murmurs. His eyes flicker to Loki and a soft "Huh." escapes him as if he just figured something out.

You have no idea what, and glance at the Asgardian at your side, who is also looking at Strange in irritation. Possessively, he puts his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"So, Bloodweeper?"

With that, he turns the topic to something other than the sorcerer's strange behavior – no pun intended – and Tony nods. "Yes, it's in a museum in London. Apparently it's part of a necklace that once belonged to a Danish princess."

He opens a hologram on his Starkphone and shows you the jewelry. It's large and golden, a statement piece if you want. Tony points to an elongated, curved part in the center of the necklace.

"This piece here is what we're looking for," he explains.

"Anna of Denmark had exceptional medical knowledge for her time," Stephen adds, now back in his element. "We suspect she knew of the existence of magic and had the necklace made for herself as an amulet of protection."

"It absorbs magic, right?" Loki's eyes rest thoughtfully on the hologram. "That means the amulet protected her against magical attacks?"

"We haven't had a chance to examine it yet, but I'm assuming so. The London Sanctum is still in negotiations to acquire the necklace."

"Since when do the sorcerer monks have the funds to purchase anything?" Loki asks amused but also curious.

"Since a billionaire is involved." Tony grins broadly. "It's only natural that I offer my help. For a ridiculously low price of some scans and examination of the parts."

Of course, Tony’s always been a curious nature, and kills two birds with one stone when the opportunity presents itself: help take a potentially dangerous item out of the public eye and investigate something new and unknown.

Stephen looks less enthusiastic about that last part, but he's learned not to put his own pride ahead. So he's content to just roll his eyes. "If they don't want to sell, we still have plan B: getting it anyway."

"In my experience, it's just a matter of price." Tony leans back in his chair and sips from his coffee. It's not pride in his voice, just a neutral statement of facts. That's the world of someone who never needs to think about money, you guess.

"So, you don't actually need us for this," you summarize and get a nod in response. You don't mind. After the clubbing in LA, your fear for Loki while he was in the Appalachians and the attack on your brother, you're glad you're out of the loop on this one. You wonder when your life became so adventurous. The answer is quite simple: since you set foot in this tower. Presumably it will continue to do so in the future, which makes you appreciate the unexciting time all the more.

You notice that Stephen's gaze keeps wandering to you. He looks like he wants to say something to you, but then changes his mind. That's not usually his style. You glance to Loki. "Can you grab the food from the fridge?"

"Sure."

Once he is out of earshot, you turn to Stephen and ask him bluntly, "What is it?"

The sorcerer has never been shy of words.

"Nothing." He takes a sip of his tea, then seems to think of something. "You should quit drinking wine, though. It's not good for your health."

It raises more questions than answers, but he's not the first magically gifted being to throw cryptic things at you. You guess it's an occupational trait and you just decide to shrug it off. That quiet voice in your head tells you it's better that way. You don't have to question everything.

"Sure."

With that, you follow Loki into the kitchen.

____________________________

'Dreams that have deeper meanings you will only realize later on' in my story? More likely than you think!

Stephen Strange: “I’ve connected the dots!” Me: “You haven’t connected shit”

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[mothrite]

Something inside me

REFER TO FOR REQUEST

SUMMERY; Max and Lucas both come to realizations that change their relationship for the better <3

WARNINGS; Slight Internalized Homophobia and transphobia, Billy Hargrove is the worst but he slays in this fic, trans he/they bi max, poly bi Lucas, Lumax, Byclair, Lucas has a crush on this friend and freaks out over it, Max experiences gender euphoria for the first time

AN; I’m so sorry this took so long Anon!!! I really wanted this to turn out well because I fell in love with this idea! Proof read by me againl!! (Btw this takes place pre season 3, post season 2) Ok so like, i started this in late 2022.... it's now late 2023. didnt have the energy to finish this and I want it OUT of my drafts

Max hated it. Max hated every time someone would call them “pretty” “beautiful” or any other term of the sort. They just hated it. They hated being a girl and being told that they should wear more skirts and put their hair up more. They especially hated it when they were told to wear dresses to events. They just wanted to be free and be able to wear what they want. Max didn’t want to be seen as a girl and they weren’t really sure why. They didn’t know how they wanted to be seen

That was until mid June. Max had been forced to go out with their mom to some kind of meeting since Billy and Neil were both out. They had been wearing a hoodie and pants with their usual red vans, the hood covered the top half of their face and their hair was tucked into the back of the hood, in two braids. They weren’t exactly paying attention, mostly just reading random signs that scattered the hallway they were in with their mother when one of their mother’s recent friends approached them. They hadn’t really been listening to the conversation until they heard something that struck a flame in them.

“Oh and your son is so handsome! He just has the most amazing blue eyes!” Max’s head quickly turned to the woman in question who had long black hair and was clad in a flowing blue dress. A smile crept to the corners of Max’s mouth and they tried to cover their now red cheeks that had flushed in embarrassment and flattery. She thought I was a boy? But I look so…ugh.

The smile dropped and their fingers went cold when their mother had spoken up.

“Oh no no no, this is my daughter, Maxine.”

That day as Max was on their way home with their mother they kept thinking about it. Could people truly see them as a boy?

He wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to like him and think of him the way he does. Lucas beat himself up for it but he couldn’t deny the fact that he found his best friend, Will Byers, attractive. He couldn’t deny the fact that he gets butterflies when he sees Will smiling and talking to him. His heart would skip a beat whenever Will invited Lucas to hang out. He hated himself for it cause it felt so wrong. He knew he still loved Max. And he knew that it was wrong for a boy to like another boy that way.

He sat in his room, some music playing lowly on a radio that stood on his desk. He forced himself to get up and walk to the phone in the kitchen of his home, though his body resented the action after laying down and doing a whole lot of nothing that day. Just as he was dialing in Max’s number the phone rang and he picked it up.

“Hello-?”

“Lucas! I didn’t think you’d pick up so fast!”

“Will? Is that you?”

“The one and only! I was wondering if we could hang out at your place for a bit? You know just us without Mike and Dustin”

Lucas’s heart beat had quickly sped up at the words and his cheeks became dusted with a shade of dark red.

“That sounds great Byers, see you in 15?”

“See ya! Bye!”

“Bye..”

Lucas Sinclair had a dilemma. One he couldn’t figure out on his own. He knew who he had to speak too, Eleven Hopper.

(MY ASS IS NOT FINISHING THIS GOODBAI.)

[blu-joons]

BEST FRIEND ENHYPEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Yang Jungwon

A ⇴ ATTENTION

It quite often is instinct for Jungwon to pay attention to you. He can’t help but just make sure that you’re doing alright and make sure that the people around you aren’t people that he needs to worry about.

B ⇴ BICKER

You both bicker from time to time, usually when you’re by yourselves. Jungwon especially hates bickering in front of others and giving them a reason to tease him, plus when the two of you are alone, he doesn’t have to worry about what he’s saying as much, allowing him to be much meaner and tease you more.

C ⇴ COMFORT

It doesn’t matter how busy he is, if Jungwon can tell you’re struggling, he’ll be there for you. The last thing that he knows you want when you’re having a rough time is to be alone, and with work something that he can make up for later, he’ll drop it and make sure that you’re not all by yourself instead.

D ⇴ DISAGREEMENTS

He likes the easy life, and so Jungwon will try and do just about whatever he possibly can do to stop any sort of disagreement happening between the two of you. Although at times he can definitely think that he’s right, he’ll humour you and just agree that you’re right to save any arguments between the two of you, much preferring to be able to see the smile on your face rather than the angry pout.

E ⇴ EARLY YEARS

Having already known a little bit about each other before you met, the initial awkwardness was wiped out for the two of you. You had quite a lot to talk about as you asked each other questions on the things that you knew about each other to try and find out some more about one another, which ultimately led to you finding out the things that you had in common, and the conversation flowing since then.

F ⇴ FAMILY

His family got on with you well, it was hard for them not to when they saw how well the two of you got along. They loved to invite you to events and parties and treat you as if you were a part of the family, mostly because they knew that Jungwon always enjoyed the long and tedious parties that his family held if you were there to offer him a bit of escapism for a while from the constant questions about work.

G ⇴ GETTING TOGETHER

Although you didn’t mind going out and about, Jungwon much preferred to hang out somewhere private. Getting you involved in any trouble or getting people invading your space were two of the things that worried Jungwon the most, especially when it wasn’t an environment that you were used to.

H ⇴ HABITS

The two of you had a habit of being able to finish each other’s sentences or predict what the other person was thinking or wanting. You especially could tell what Jungwon was thinking nine times out of ten because of how well you knew him, and he too could usually make a pretty good prediction on you too.

I ⇴ INSIDE JOKES

It surprised quite a few people just how many inside jokes the two of you shared. Because you were so silly around each other compared to how you acted around other people, they didn’t think that you’d have as many embarrassing moments as you did, not realising how unreserved you were when together.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

The protective side of Jungwon couldn’t help but observe more than anything else and at times was wary of your friends. He didn’t like people getting too close or dominating the conversation, something that his eyes would definitely give away. Most of the time he got along with your friends, but if there was ever one that he was a little bit unsure of, then Jungwon wouldn’t be afraid to mention it to you.

K ⇴ KICKS

Jungwon got a kick out of the first moment when he’d see you when the two of you hung out. When he looked and saw your smile for the first time it always got him excited, especially when he hadn’t been able to see you for a while, that moment was like a buzz reminding him how lucky he was to be your best friend.

L ⇴ LOVE

He loved how interested you were in him and how you paid attention to the little details. Quite often you surprised Jungwon by remembering the specific way he liked his coffee, or how he had his routine for every time that he left the dorm. Most of all though he loved how you knew how to handle him just for every emotion that he experienced, having learnt exactly how Jungwon was in different situations.

M ⇴ MEETING

The two of you first met through mutual friends and seemed to hit it off ever since. Almost as soon as you met you felt as if you just knew each other after hearing stories about one another before, and with mutual friends around you too, the conversation just seemed to flow as others joined through the night.

N ⇴ NONSENSE

Both of you let go around each other, there were never any barriers or walls up around one another. For each other, you were both the person that you could relax around the most and not feel like you had to worry.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Jungwon was obsessed with your passion and enthusiasm, whenever he felt down or a little bit lost, Jungwon knew that he could turn to you for a little bit of positivity to pick himself right back up again.

P ⇴ PRECIOUS MOMENTS

The times that meant the most to Jungwon were the moments when you were there watching him up on stage. Being able to look to his left or his right and see you there was one of his favourite things in the world, especially if he saw you copying the choreography having taught you a couple of moves.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

You were the person that ended up being on the receiving end of most of Jungwon’s questions. His mind questioned a lot of things, usually because he ended up fretting, and so those questions usually wanted reassurance.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

For every place that he visited, Jungwon always made sure to pick something up for you. Coming home empty handed was definitely not the thing for him, instead he liked to try and find the wackiest thing that he could from the places that he went to and leave you puzzled when he got them home.

S ⇴ SUPPORT

You were the one that he counted on quite often, as the leader he didn’t like to rely on too many people, so you knew better than most when he needed that bit of a boost. You could tell the signs straight away as well, knowing exactly when Jungwon needed you to support him and motivate him as well.

T ⇴ TRIPS

Having you on trips was something that Jungwon loved to try and organise. If he could find a way to get you on the plane and give himself the chance to explore the world with you then he’d do it in a heartbeat.

U ⇴ ULTIMATE

He felt incredibly lucky to be able to call you his best friend, it was something that Jungwon definitely never took for granted.

V ⇴ VISITS

If he hadn’t been able to catch up with you for a while, Jungwon would usually stop by your place so that he could see how you were doing, most of the time with food in hand too so you had to invite him in.

W ⇴ WISDOM

He prided himself on his advice, Jungwon felt pretty confident in most situations that he’d be able to try and help you out.

X ⇴ XXXX

Neither of you were massive on affection, but that didn’t stop you from trying to annoy each other too. Most of the time you could be found poking or prodding one another, anything really to get a reaction.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his inspiration, Jungwon learnt a lot from you without you even realising it.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Whenever you stayed at the dorm, Jungwon definitely used his privilege of being the leader to make sure that you were well looked after. He made sure that the boys made the place comfortable for you to sleep at.

---

Masterlist

[scuttling]

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[yeojaa]

( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.

(or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing.  tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  slice of life fluff, light smut.  explicit (but only at the end). 

tags / warnings.  mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc.  7.6k.

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​, @papillonsgf​, and @yeoldontknow​​ 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note.  i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this.  it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless.  as always, feedback means a lot! 

You and forethought aren’t close friends.  You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree.  You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is.  Careful consideration?  Thoughtful patience?  None of that exists for you.  At least, not when you really, really want something. 

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.  

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this.  Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid.  By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.  

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment.  Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to.  When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed.  (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right? 

“Everyone’s fully booked.”  The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial.  (You don’t blame her.)  By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal.  You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue.  “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice?  Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable.  Well-known.  Considered one of the best in the city.  Surely their apprentice would be fine.  Just less seasoned, not as experienced. 

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter.  “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall.  “Last room on the left.  His name’s Jungkook.  His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.”  It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves.  Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told. 

“Jungkook?”  There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight.  (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.)  It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else. 

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting:  one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits.  Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine.  A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall;  one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it.  There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath.  All in all, very homey.  Reminiscent of your own apartment.) 

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space.  “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples. 

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for.  Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.  

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe.  It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin.  “Are you okay?”  He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way.  Good for him, but worse for you. 

He’s so cute.  Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.”  You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete.  “Um— I was told you might have some time?  For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering?  You’re never shy.  Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess.  People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!”  Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder.  He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway.  “Yeah, I’ve got time.  Come in.”  Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek;  the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip;  each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks.  “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no.  You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook?  He was that.  In spades. 

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”  He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table.  It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display.  “I’ve got a pretty big selection.” 

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him.  This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation. 

“So—”  He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen.  You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt.  It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion;  it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles.  He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling.  The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity.  “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.”  It really is.  You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink.  “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question.  Of course it did.  It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally.  “Like crazy, but it was worth it.  This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—”  He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.  

“A piece of cake?”  You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you.  (It doesn’t.  You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap.  “Do any of these interest you?”  He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash.  There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf).  They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.”  It catches your eye more than the others have.  Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines.  A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do.  “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.”  He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled;  you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion.  A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen.  “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy.  Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no.  You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.  

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though.  You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it.  You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life.  There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,”  you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.  

“Do you have your ID?”  You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form.  “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come. 

Alone, the nerves set in.  You’re actually doing this.  Getting a tattoo.  Putting something permanent on your body.  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap.  Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come.  (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.) 

(But had you really made up your mind?  Was this going to be it?  It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise.  It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!”  Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope.  You eye it curiously.  “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”  

He’s really thought of everything.  Or the shop has.  Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?”  It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand.  (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.) 

You hadn’t thought about that.  You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away.  “My arm?”

“Upper?  Forearm?”  There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative.  He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you. 

“Tricep area, I think?  Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.”  Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same.  “I’m kidding.  That was cheesy.  But I’m sure it’ll look fine.  We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?” 

“That sounds good.”  A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement. 

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake:  wearing a turtleneck.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like.  Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon?  Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)? 

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule.  Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside.  Whatever you’d prefer.” 

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill.  You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.  

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way?  He was probably desensitized.)  

“It’s fine.”  You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly.  Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though.  Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater.  It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath.  Two. 

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him.  “All right.  Let’s do this.” 

“So, which arm?”  He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.  

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello. 

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers.  You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.”  It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror.  “It’s so pretty.” 

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face.  “Thanks.”  He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful.  “What do you think?”

“This is it.  Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool.  As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee. 

“All right.  We’ll shave you down and get started.  You like the colours, right?”  Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart.  It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes.  (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.)  He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him.  “Hop on up.  Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace.  It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.  

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?”  You’d misheard that, right? 

“Your skin.  You’re sparkling.”  He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.  

“Oh.”  Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly.  “It’s my soap.” 

“Sparkle soap?”  Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure.  He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before.  (Which, fair.) 

“It’s this specialty holiday soap.  It has pigment in it.” 

“That’s cool.”  He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm.  “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree.  It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does.  Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot.  “Thanks.” 

“Was that weird?  I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.” 

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.  

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle.  “Ready?” 

Honestly, you’re not sure.  Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog.  Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue.  “I think so.” 

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee. 

“All right—”“  The incessant buzzing stops.  Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel.  “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you.  Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.) 

“Can I see?”  You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face. 

“Yeah, go ahead.  Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right.  You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet.  It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you. 

“Careful!”  It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.  

“Sorry, sorry.”  You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede.  Everything straightens out quickly enough.  “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?”  He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall.  “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art.  “I’m fine.”  That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.”  The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open.  Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words,  “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention.  It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours.  It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.  

“You like?”  

“I love.”  You’d stare at it for hours, if you could.  Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie.  “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head.  Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose.  Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into.  “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one.  It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink.  (You half expect him not to answer;  you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.) 

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.  

“So, what’re you thinking?”  

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking.  Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history.  You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece.  “A sleeve?”

That surprises him.  His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously.  “Like, a full sleeve?”  It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable.  “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high.  “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,”  he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea.  “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.”  He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up.  For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing.  (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.)  “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan.  It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there.  He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.  

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”  

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions.  It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin.  A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep.  Another takes up the entirety of your forearm.  There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi.  It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.  

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch.  You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.”  Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap.  “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers.  Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat.  He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up.  Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.  

“You mean we did it,”  you return, giddy like a child.  

“Ah, right.”  The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled.  “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey!  Screw you!”  You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.  

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more.  It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head.  Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow.  You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm.  That in itself had hurt like a biiitch;  you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?”  He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to.  It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.  

“Yes, you are.”  You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares.  This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together.  (Not that you’d complain.  You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful.  “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.  

“Wouldn’t I?  I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”  

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed?  You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation.  Had he mentioned it previously?  Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain?  No, you would’ve remembered that.  You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.”  How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea.  You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway.  Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago.  (God, your memory is good.  If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.)  “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.  

“Gonna miss me?”  

Would it be inappropriate to say yes?  Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question.  You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).  

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own.  “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,”  he answers, offering honesty to your reticence.  “You can still send me funny photos though.”  

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile.  “I guess you’re right.  Will you still be tattooing?”  It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know.  You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.”  Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin.  “Actually, where I got most of mine done.”  You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith.  He’s finally come full circle.  You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.  

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to.  It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.  “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,”  he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair.  It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn.  “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,”  you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder.  You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go.  It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk.  “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”  

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you.  It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available.  (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.)  “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black.  You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.  

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?”  He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to.  (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?)  “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended.  “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”  

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you.  “Hey, I don’t judge.  You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there.  Used your own impulsive history against you.  “I would never.”  

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what?  Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him.  “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth.  There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up.  You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”  

“Really?”  You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face.  “Then why don’t you have one?”  He has a million others as it is:  a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs.  (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)  

“And hide all this?”  One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home.  “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual.  “But I’m cuter.  It’d be a shame if it were me.  You…”  The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean.  (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.)  “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”  

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him. 

“I’m kidding.”  You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries.  A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke.  “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them?  Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was.  Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met.  It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?”  The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.  

Were you?  You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really?  You can’t?”  You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it.  But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously.  It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears.  “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”  

Had he?  Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall.  Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of;  accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff).  Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought.  You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,”  you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.  

“I think you’re cute,”  he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff.  The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week.  The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb.  (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer.  “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.”  Where the confidence comes from, who knows.  You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering.  It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits. 

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go. 

Then he does the last thing you expect:  shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.  

(His lips are so soft.  A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate.  Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him.  French fries and beer and his Chapstick.) 

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.) 

“You just kissed me.”  It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.  

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.”  Speaking the words into existence feels bad;  you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.  

“I am.”  At least he’s realistic.  It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay. 

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose. 

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.  

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next.  (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass.  Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers.  An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,”  the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials.  You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation. 

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof.  The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin.  You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous.  It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left. 

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed.  He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders.  You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,”  he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity.  It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,”  you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped.  You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was.  As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though.  You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow.  He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?”  You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder.  Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again.  (You’re proud of that.  It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”  

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine.  You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness.  Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad.  Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around.  It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper.  He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror.  “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals.  Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care.  Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre.  You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life.  It means so much - like progressing to the next level.  

Which, you suppose it is.  This is a fresh start for you.  A new beginning in a new city.  

“Proud of you,”  he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips.  He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.  

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago.  A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,”  you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.  

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual.  “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that.  You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome.  From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.  

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this:  a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had;  to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.  

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that.  Made it worth it in ways you had never considered.  Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?”  He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself.  It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.  

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.”  The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?”  You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets.  It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that.  He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.  

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised.  “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?”  Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job? 

(It truthfully could be.  You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.”  All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine.  “You don’t like when I admire my own work?”  Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit.  The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need.  (Because you really do need it.  You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.)  It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once. 

“Kook,”  you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.”  He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin.  They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas.  A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care.  Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits.  When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”  

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt.  “I’ve missed this,”  he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.  

“Missed you too,”  you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.  

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​​​ @codeinebelle​ @xjoonchildx​

[palaceofpassion]

MAY I stop Time?

A fic done for a friend!  In which May lets her new semblance go to her head.  

“Okay… okay I can do this.”  

Here May rested, her body hanging above the man of her dreams, one of the many people of her dreams but still the only man.  Her eyes gazed upon his delectable form, his toned form gained through months and months of hard work.  His boyish face on the threshold of a chiseled deity.  Nearly losing herself in his gorgeous blue eyes she felt her heart thump in her chest.  Her beloved Jaune rested below her, his body glistening with the sweat of his hard labor.  

Even as she lowered herself upon his lap he made no distinct movements, no signs of noticing her attempts.  In fact he didn’t move at all, neither did the incredibly gorgeous women around him.  Taking the time to handle her nerves she gazed upon the other six figures in the room.  Her pulse raced in her veins as she stared at each of them, bare as the day they were born.  Their bodies much like Jaunes were coated in a thick layer of sweat.  And just like the man below her they made no special attention to her own depravity.  None of them moved, not a single person besides herself were even aware, conscious of her actions.  

Even as she pressed her virgin lips against the tip of his massive cock she couldn’t help but remember the day this all started.  The day that she unlocked her semblance, what felt like so long ago was only a month.  In that month she’d learned to control her powers, learned to use them to their best and make the most out of them.  And what else would she do with them but enjoy her beloveds to their fullest.  And here they all where, here they all sat around her.  

Closing her eyes she pushed down, the memories of yonder days returning to her mind as she did so.

It had been any other day, May had been at the shooting range practicing her sniping, she wouldn’t let that Ruby girl show her up!  Then out of nowhere one of the punks from Team CRDL decided it was a great idea to scare her, so they decided that they’d take a pot shot at her.  In her surprise something happened, before the dust round hit her the world came to a halt, everything slowed till the bullet stopped right in front of her.  

“Wha?!  What’s going on?!”  The normally quiet May couldn’t help but have a minor freak out when she realized the bullet that should have slammed her right in the face had stopped.  After a moment it dawned on her, this was her doing!  Excitement filled her breast as she stared at the bullet, completely forgetting about those jerks from CRDL.  In her excitement she dashed out of the room, not even paying attention to any of the other students as she passed by.  She only had a small group of people she wanted to tell, the most important people in her life.  

With speed that would drive Ruby to envy she found herself in the Library, where she knew her special friends would be.  Spotting them in the distance she made her way forward, the first coming to focus was her most beloved man.  Jaune Arc, the only person who would go out of their way to talk to a wallflower like her.  He’d gone out of his way to talk to her when no one else would at the beginning of initiation.  Being teamed with him had done nothing but cause her near case heart attacks.  She’d pretend not to stare when he’d come out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.  She was only so strong though, weak willed as she was, she'd gaze upon his figure over and over.  And believe her when she says he’d come a long way.  She still held their first conversation dear in her heart, it was because of him that she’d been able to make such precious friends.  She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d had many an erotic dream about the young blonde… though speaking of erotic dreams she knew she wasn’t the only one.

To his right, was quite possibly the single most gorgeous woman in existence.  A beauty who made lesbians out of even straight women, Pyrrha Nikos.  The all Star Champion, the invincible girl, the untouchable unapproachable or at least that’s what May used to think.  If it hadn’t been for Jaune she may have never seen the real girl underneath, the one who was just as lonely as her, who only wanted to make friends.  They both owed a lot to Jaune, and if she was being honest, Pyrrha was probably her biggest rival for his affection.  At least she would have been if not for her also being a target of May’s pining heart.  The woman was amazing, strong, powerful, glorious, gorgeous!  But more than that she was just a girl, a sweet and loving girl that like herself was just happy spending time with her friends.  

Then there was the girl to his left, the dark skinned beauty Ciel Soleil, her own partner.  She hadn’t really known what to think of the girls when they first met.  But now they were as thick as thieves, even if Ciel rarely ever spoke.  She owed much of this to her previous two teammates, they’d taken the time to get everyone to sit and talk with one another.  She knew that if they’d been left to their own devices then neither her nor Ciel would have taken the time to become friends.  She would have surely regretted that decision.  Despite her cold nature, May knew she cared in the end, she herself was an incredibly sweet woman who May couldn’t help but feel an affinity for.

To Ciel’s own left, there was Penny Poledina, her odd but rather fun friend who had come along with her Atlas.  The two had originally planned to be partners, but because of Ciel accidentally running into May first those plans had become derailed.  Things had worked out surprisingly well as Penny would visit the four of them frequently, becoming fast friends.  May herself was surprised at how quickly Jaune had adapted to Penny’s inquisitive nature, he himself admitted to having seven sisters so he had grown to become rather patient.  She was incredibly adorable, and May couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter every time the inquisitive girl spoke to ehr.

In front of them were sitting the other three members of their little friend group.  One being the second year Velvet Scarlatina, a student who had somehow just kind of drifted into their little group.  May couldn’t even remember when she first showed up, but she was now a full part of their group.  And honestly she didn’t really mind her, though she saw the way she looked at Jaune, not that May could have blamed her.  The girl herself was quite the beauty, her adorable ears expressed a lot of her emotion, and well May would be lying if she said she HADN’T stared at that nice plump rear of hers.  

To her right was another odd one to join their friend group, Reese Chloris, she’d apparently been having issues with some of the girls from team NDGO, and Pyrrha happened to walk by.  Not one to let things like injustice go unpunished, she stepped in and absolutely humiliated them.  It was pretty obvious that Reese had originally joined by the simple virtue of her own lust and admiration towards Pyrrha.  But as time went on she became a genuine friend with the group.  May really liked her style, her mohawk was incredibly stylish, and her slim figure was one that May envied.

Then there was Weiss, the last member of their little group.  Member of team RWBY, Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, she will never let you forget that by the way.  Or at least she wouldn’t have in the past.  Weiss was honestly the most surprising member of their group, she’d been a pain in her posterior when they’d first met.  Mostly because of how Jaune had been stricken by the young Heiress.  May hadn’t been the only one bothered by this obviously, as Pyrrha despite giving Jaune the go ahead had come to dislike the attention that she had been given.  Then there was the fact that she was quite mean when it came to turning down the young Arc.  He’d only asked her out three times and yet she’d gotten terribly upset with him… she wished he’d been more forward with her or at least Pyrrha or Cie.  Though things turned around near the dance, he’d realized that it wasn’t going to happen he  apologized and even helped push that Neptune guy in the right direction.  That ended up not working out, and well they’d become friends along the way.

She wouldn’t say that she was as fond of her as she was all the other girls, but for what it was worth she was very pretty.  

Even in her excitement she didn’t yell out to them, she hated drawing attention to herself, she was quite literally a wallflower.  Her parents had named her after a mayflower in itself.  Though, as she drew closer she noticed something strange, they hadn’t moved even the slightest.  That… that wasn’t normal, not even in the slightest.  Her confusion grew as she drew closer, finally reaching them.  Then she looked around… no one was moving, not a single person!  “Wha..what?!”  Fear seized her heart as she started to panic, had she done this?!  Did she freeze everyone?!  

“Please go back, please go back!”  Closing her eyes she wished as hard as she could that this was just a dream.  

“May?”  She nearly jumped out of her large jacket, her one good eye opening wide as the other seven individuals watched her with concern and confusion.  “When did you get here?”  Jaune’s warm voice assisted in calming her nerves.  

“I… uhm… I….”  She wanted to tell them about her semblance, this was a big moment!  But… but there was a part of her, concentrating once more she felt the world fall to a halt.  “I… I did do this…”  She’d stopped time!  She wasn’t sure exactly how she’d do it, or what had brought this around.  But this was amazing!  Though… though sinister thoughts fluttered through her mind.  Mustering her courage she walked in between her friends, taking a deep breath she leaned over towards Jaune.  It was quick and small, but she pressed her lips against his offering him a small peck.  

Pulling away she felt her face burn hot, embarrassment flowed through her.  “I… I did it!”  She couldn’t believe she’d done it, she couldn’t believe that she’d managed to kiss the boy of her dreams.  Though one could hardly call it a real kiss, it would suffice for the time.  She wasn’t quite brave enough, nor did she want to abuse these powers.

Moving back to her previous position she concentrated, time fell back in.  “Uh, I… I just wanted to come by and study with you guys… if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is sweetheart.”  Her heart fluttered in her chest as Pyrrha stared at her, her gorgeous emerald orbs peering into her ugly blueish grey.  “We’d love to have you… though it is quite strange how you’d gotten here out of seemingly nowhere.”  

“Yeah dude!  Where did you even come from?”  Reese’ question nearly threw her off.

“I uhm… I just walked over, maybe you guys didn’t notice me? I am really hard to notice. ”  She didn’t mean to get down on herself, and she sort of prided herself in her unnoticeable status.  But there was a part of her that really didn’t like it.

“No… no we would have noticed you.  You’re always noticeable to us.”  All of the girls nodded along to Jaune’s words, and once more May remembered why she loved these people.  All of them, each and every last one of them.  “So what brought you over here in a hurry?”  

“I uhm I!”  In her panic time stopped again, “oh no!”  She’d need to get better control of that, still she watched everyone.  Their lips puckered in worry for her, and then… then a thought hit her.  She could do anything!  Anything at all… so she made her move.  Stepping to Weiss first she gulped, her heavy chest heaved beneath her thick jacket.  Lowering herself she cleared the hair out of her vision.  

With courage that can only be found from her new found abilities she pressed her lips against the Heiress.  Just like her namesake she had a crisp icey taste to her, one that May would very much like to try again in the future.  

Not delaying she pulled away with a small pop, running her tongue around her lips.  

Next came Reese, the exotic girl proved to be quite the opposite, her lips had an earthy taste to them, it wasn’t bad, just completely different from Weiss.  

Next came Velvet, May couldn’t help but giggle against Velvet’s lips which tasted like Carrot Cake.  “Oh Vel~”  Pulling away she couldn’t help but run her fingers through Velvet’s ears, running her nails through her thin fur.  

Penny was next, copper, it tasted a lot like copper… and silicone?  It was an odd combination!  But she didn’t hate it, it was pleasant once she grew used to it and she may have dilly dallied a bit more than she meant to.  She placed another gentle kiss against her forehead before moving onto Ciel.

She took a moment staring at her partners glossy chocolate covered skin.  Oh god she felt her nerves fail as she grew closer.  Unlike the other girls she made sure this one lasted, her lips pressed tightly against the timely strict girl and she kept them pressed for a while.  She enjoyed her flavor most of all so far, it was a cool minty flavor one that sent chills down her spine.  After reluctantly pulling away she moved over to Pyrrha.

Her heart fluttered thoroughly in her chest, like a drum beating rapidly she felt her heart about to explode.  Mustering her courage she actually grabbed Pyrrha’s head.  Puckering as much as she could she pressed her lips, spice and ginger filled ehr senses as she found herself unable to pull away from the exotically erotic woman in front of her.  Running her tongue across her cherry red lips she couldn’t help but enjoy the woman’s plump lips.  

Truly reluctantly she pulled away, her heart thumped louder and louder to the point she swore that she could hear it pumping blood in her veins.  Turning towards Jaune she just went right in, her moist lips crashed against his.  One minute, two minutes, three minutes she continued to kiss him, not even coming up for air her courage turned into a burning fire as she ran her tongue across his teeth.  Pressing on she slipped into her mouth, by this points he was basically tongue fucking him.  She lost count for how long she’d been doing so but she now knew his taste intimately!  Thick ropes of drool rippled down as she pulled away, her tongue slipping out of his mouth last.  “So goooood~”  She wanted more, needed more!  She could always feel the power going to ehr head, but she didn’t care!  For now though… she needed to keep things under control.

Pulling back she made sure to take her original spot, giving herself time to calm her beating heart she finally allowed time to return.  She’d nearly missed it, but several of the girls, and Jaune, had quickly pressed their fingers across their lips.  Velvet herself had slipped her hand across one of her rabbit ears.  Once more time stood still, and a sudden realization hit her, “They can feel it… they can’ feel everything…”  This should have scared her, should have terrified her, but it didn’t, instead it excited her, it sent powerful urges and lit a strong desire inside of her chest.  

Once more taking the time to calm herself, she let time flow again, “I… I just wanted to see you.”  Despite her meek tone she felt far more courageous than she’d ever felt.  The fire that lit in her soul wouldn’t burn away, not for a long long time.  For now though, she’d take the time to practice, to truly get used to her powers.

“Uh… well come and sit down!”  It was obvious that Jaune was trying to get over the strange sensation in his mouth, but bless him for still thinking of her.

A small smile crossed her lips as she sat down with the group, this really was the good life and she wouldn’t trade it for anything… but she wanted more… wanted more with all of them.  It was small, but she knew what she would do.

The sun hadn’t even risen by the time she’d woken the next morning, the excitement of the previous day had truly gotten to her and in her excitement she’d found sleep hard to come by.  Even Pyrrha, Ms. Wakes up before the crack of dawn, was still slumbering, “Mmm~ Jaune not in front of the others~”  

A smile slipped past her lips as she listened to their Vice Leader talk in her sleep, it was a good thing that Jaune was such a deep sleeper.  Though she’d have to talk to Pyrrha about that one day, the girl’s thirst was unquenchable, not like she could blame her.  Jaune was quite the wonderful boy, she’d had quite a few dreams about him as well.

Though… speaking of the boy, her eyes glanced over at his resting figure.  The soft silver light of the moon illuminated his lithe figure.  As her eyes trailed down from his face, to his chest she felt a knot grow in her throat.  Apparently Pyrrha hadn’t been the only one to have an erotic dream that night, with only the moon’s light casting upon him she could still make out his impressive mast standing at full attention.  

Once more she had that sickly thick feeling bundle in her chest, her breathing grew heavy.  Without thinking she slid off her bed, with light steps she made her way over to him..

Activating her semblance the world grew still. Her core grew slick as she drew closer, trickles of warm juices began to run down her inner thigh.  Before she knew it she was already by his side, her hand gingerly pressed against his thick hard member.  Even covered by his rather soft onesie she could tell just how massive it was, excitement began to boil in her core.  

As her gaze fell to his slumbering face she felt herself awash with shame.  Was she about to do this?  This was an invasion of privacy!  Jaune would never do that to her… but… but this could be her only chance… the only times he’d ever get to actually see it.  Then she looked back towards his towering member, she was so very weak.  Pushing past her hesitation she slipped her right hand up his surprisingly firm chest.  Her fingers slowly pinched upon the zipper, the zipper that held her long desired treasure.  

And without even the slightest bit of hesitation or a second thought she slid the metallic key downwards.  As she slowly pulled on the last lock to her goal a thought occurred to her, how was she moving something even when time was stopped?  How could she still hear the sound of the zipper coming down?  She’d have to investigate later, but for now, for now she had a prize to unbox.  

Her heart throbbed in her heaving breast as her goal came into sight, finally she’d pulled that darned thing all the way.  She wanted to enjoy this, wanted to really let the moment sink in.  Bit by bit, she continued.  First her gaze fell upon tufts of unsheared golden fur, “Oh!”  He was as voluminous in the lower section as he was up top.  She’d… she’d love to run her nose across it, take a moment to really enjoy his scent.  

As she continued her venture she felt her boxers wedge into her quivering pussy, she would need to change after this.  Finally she reached the very tip, and with one last pull she allowed it to spring free.  She felt as if she’d used her semblance on herself, her mind went blank as everything stood still.  There it was, in all it’s massive glory, “Could… would… would it fit?”  She couldn’t help but tremble at the sight, both in awe and fear at the mighty shaft that stood at hopefully full attention in front of her.

She couldn’t help but feel in awe of how mighty it was, but at the same time, the very thought of trying to slide it inside of her frightened her.  She would need to practice, need to get ready for when the time came.  But!  That was not why she was here, no she was here to… to… to help her leader!  Yes!  That’s why she’d come this far, he must have been in so much pain, so she as his faithful teammate, had to do her duty and help… help relieve his stress… yes… right that’s what she was doing.  This was for him, this wasn’t for her…  right.  At least that’s what she told herself.  

Once she’d taken the zipper to the very end she had decided on repositioning herself.  Laying herself between his legs, she allowed herself to really get close up and personal with hopefully her future husband’s mighty… p… penis.  She felt her face flush hot at the thought of using the word!  Still… something was odd, she’d tested it before but she could definitely taste things even with time frozen.  But apparently she was also able to smell them, her nose was assaulted by a thick strong musk, one that was mixed with the scent of spice.  That in itself had answered a question that was at the back of her mind, did he shampoo his pubic hairs?  The answer was apparently a strong yes!  

Still… it was impressive, impressive with how even after he’d spent nearly 25 minutes in the shower he still had this strong… powerful… tantalizing… invigorating odor to him!  Pressing her nose forward she pressed herself between his thick heavy sack, and his impressive… massive… gorging c...c...cock… yes that’s what this was!  She felt his flesh move against her touch, she’d almost jumped back when she realized that it hadn’t been as hard as she thought.  Instead she felt warmth, felt his touch against her face.  This… this was good… she’d been worried about how well this would turn out.  But as she took in deep strong breaths she knew it was going to be amazing.  Burying her nose against the base of his penis, she allowed herself the time to take in his scent.  She was practically marinating in it, and she loved every last second.

Her instincts took control of her actions, without realizing it she’d already brought the tip of her tongue to the slit at the head of his massive cock.  Before she could stop herself she’d already moved in to get a taste, running her pink muscle across his sensitive glands, scooping up bits of frozen precum as she dug into the tiny hole.  Once she’d finished she took the moment to savor his thick and natural flavors.  She’d read that most women hated the taste, but she found herself becoming addicted to the salty tangy flavor.  

Once she’d pulled back she took the time to admire the view in front of her.  “I can’t believe I’m doing this… it’s… it’s so wonderful.”  She wanted him, wanted to feel so very full, wanted to slide that thick hard cock between her needy pussy.  She could feel her womb tighten at the thought, begging for her to mount him and breed herself on her unsuspecting love.  

However, she still had enough self restraint, it was too early for that.  She couldn’t let herself be carried away… though… though she could help him out a little right?  He’d been there for her from the very beginning, it would only be right if she were to… were to help him get off.  Just… look how hard… and pent up he must have been.  Right, she was just being a good friend… a good… a good follower!  Yes that’s what she was doing…

WIth her final bits of self control crumbling before her she took the time to move forward.  Once more she placed her nose between his cock and balls allowing his scent to invade her nose.  She couldn’t get enough of it!  She hadn’t realized just how amazing scents could be till today, but here she was stuffing her face into her beloved man’s balls like a… a… a horny little slut… “Ahhh~”  She felt her pussy clench at the thought alone, her body shook with excitement in response.  “I… I’m a dirty… I’m a dirty little slut.”  That crumbling self control was gone, and now only her desires leaked out.  

“I want you to breed me… I want you to breed me!  Breed Pyrrha!  Breed CIel!  Breed Reese!  Breed Penny!  Breed Velvet!  Breed Weiss!  Break all the other girls!”  Her right hand moved to the base of his cock, she swore that the hot burning member throbbed at her touch, but that wasn’t possible.  Her left hand moved between her thighs, slipping between her tight boxers her fingers moved along her plump moist vulva.  Unable to control herself any longer, consumed by his thick musk, she moved her hands in tandem.

Her dainty thin fingers ran along her plump lips squeezing and grinding back and forth.  She could feel herself growing slicker and slicker.  Her nose buried deep between his massive cock and heavy balls she continued to breath in his thick scent.  Her right hand continued to run up and down his thick heavy meaty fat cock, pumping him over and over running her fingers across his thick heavy veins.  Her brain could only think of breeding, could only think of pleasuring the man before her, even if he wouldn’t feel it.  But she did anyways, placing her lips against his thick, full balls she placed several heavy and hearty kisses against them.  From time to time she dragged her tongue across his sweaty savoury orbs.  

She wanted more and more, when her tongue wasn’t enough she wrapped her lips around one of his impressive sacks.  Dragging her tongue against the precious balls of flesh she began to gently suck on them.  Her pumping grew faster and faster, while her fingers continued to explore her nether regions.  SQUELCH SQUELCH SQUELCH   Over and over she ran her thin digits through her plump pussy.  Her fingers began to explore her thin hole, finally penetrating her needy little slit.  She could feel her pussy suck and clench around her fingers, she needed something bigger!  She needed his cock in her, she needed to be bred!  She wanted him to do her, to do so to so many others!  The thought of all of the girls riding this member, while the others watched invaded her mind!  The thought of him putting those nasty girls, those nasty insulting girls that liked to put him down in their place.  For him to have them face down ass up, this MIGHTY cock plunging in and out of their holes as they begged for more, begged for him to breed them like the dirty little breeding sows that they were.  Those thoughts invaded her mind like never before.

She couldn’t believe herself, couldn’t believe how easily she felt she was being corrupted!  But it wasn’t just the breeding!  No! NO! That would imply she only wanted his cock in her!  She wanted other things, wanted to run her tongue through Pyrrha and Ciel’s pussy, to eat them out and savor their flavors.  She wanted to stretch out Weiss and Reese, bend them in positions that only their thin, gorgeous, and lithe bodies could handle.  She wanted to grind with Penny, wanted to get tribal with Velvet!  

Her inner desires burned through, she’d been a good girl!  She was allowed to have these absolutely nasty thoughts!  She wanted more and more AND MORE!  Her suction grew harder till she felt her jaw grow tired, he was so impressive!  So mighty!  Even as she continued to invade her own body, with three fingers invading her needy pussy.  She found herself gazing upon his manly mane, the tufts of blonde hair that called for her to bury her nose into.  Scooting forward she placed her face against his sternum, dragging her nose against his thick fur.  He smelled so good!  The harsh fragrance from his shampoo hit her nose at the same time as his thick heavy musk, built up from the heat of the night.  “Oh god!  I’m so bad~  I’m such a bad little girl.”

She couldn’t stop herself, her cervix opened and closed as she continued to attack her own pussy.  She couldn’t stop, there was no way she could, her juices flowed freely down her thighs, her boxers were practically drenched in her own fluids by this point.  She really couldn’t use them anymore!  It would be too embarrassing, and yet, and yet a thought occurred.  What if Jaune were to catch her like this?  What if she started time up again… oh what would he do to her?  Would he push her down, breed her?  Use her massive ugly tits like… like handles as his thick hard cocked pumped in and out of her nasty… naughty...needy… pussy?  The thought was tempting!  She wanted to do it!  But she knew she couldn’t, she just couldn’t!  She was too scared, absolutely terrified!

Still the thought was there!  The thought that was pushed back into the depths of her mind!  For now though, she felt herself hit her climax, her body shivered and convulsed, her juices oozed down her thighs, her boxers drenched and unwearable at this point.  She fell forward, her chest heaving up and down as she did her best to breath, her nose buried deep against his pelvis.  

As her post orgasm clarity hit her, her face began to burn hot, burned so damn hot.  Her eyes snapped open as she pulled away, nearly tripping as her drenched underwear clung to her body.  Embarrassment consumed her at a realization of what she’d just done.  “I… I… no!  No!  I’m sorry!”  Running towards her dresser she grabbed a clean pair of boxers, she couldn’t believe what she’d just done, what she’d just THOUGHT!  It was… it was so bad!  Burying her face into her clean underwear for a moment she did her best to sling her moist used set down her slick wet thighs.  With a wet SCHLOP her boxers hit the ground.  

She shivered at the sound, her body growing hot as her embarrassment consumed her once more.  Once she’d slipped on a fresh pair, she’d need to make sure that he was fixed as well.  As she began to zip him up once more she couldn’t help but give him one last gift.  Pressing her lips against the tip of his cock she gave him one last kiss.  Once she’d finished setting him up she made sure to hide her… her shameful piece of cloth at the very bottom of her clothing hamper.  

Gently she climbed into her sheets and closed her eyes.  Her power over the world began to vanish, and she’d been prepared to fall asleep when she heard a loud thrashing sound and… and what sounded like a powerful squirting noise!

“NNNNGH!♥!!”  Her eyes snapped open as she stared at the cause of the sound, Jaune was twitching, his upper body jolted upright.  Her eyes glanced downwards as his loud moaning filled the otherwise quiet dorm room.  SPURT SPURT SPURT SPURT!  Her face grew red hot as she realized what was happening!  All the feedback from when she'd been stroking him was finally happening.  “Ah! AH AH!”  Under the silver light of the moon she could clearly see his cock twitching and spurting out thick globs as his onesie became stained in his thick seed.  

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”  She hadn’t meant for that to happen!  In her own lust she’d forgotten about it!  Now the boy of her affection was having quite possibly the strongest orgasm he’d ever had, and it… it was all because of her!  A sense of pride filled her chest, but was quickly replaced with shame as she saw the distraught face in front of her.  Her instincts screamed to move and comfort him!  But… but she couldn’t bring herself to move, she couldn’t let him know she was awake.  Instead she watched him, watched as he stared in panic at his own sputtering cock the obvious shame built upon his face… it did things to her... things she didn’t want to admit.

“Hah hah hah…”  His panting echoed and sunk into her ears, it was… it was doing things to her.  She could feel her core heat up once more.  “I… why… I… no….”  Despite how terrible she felt, that small tinge of pride still filled her chest.  “Why… I… no… I… they can’t see this… they… they’d hate me…  I can’t… I cant believe I had a… wet dream about all of them… why…”  She nearly flinched when he turned towards her.  “I’m sorry May… I can’t… I can’t believe I… to you…”

Had he been having a wet dream?!  Was she in it?!  Was that why he was apologizing?!  “You… I’m… I’m such a bad friend.”  Even with her eyes closed shut as they were, she could still make out the sounds of him heading to the bathroom, obviously to get changed and to clean off… off that thick… stain on his onesie… that rich… fresh…  and like that the world stopped once more.

Once more she got up, making her way around him she quickly unzipped his onesie, unable to resist the treat in front of her!  Once she’d gotten the zipper all the way down she was treated with his cum coated cock.  She remembered the previous embarrassment!  Remembering how bad she felt!  But how could she resist?!  Quickly she moved, running her tongue along his still thick hard shaft she lapped up his thick honeyed cum.  “Schow good!  You taste schow bery good!”  She couldn’t stop it, she couldn’t stop till she consumed every last bit.  And there was just so much!  So very much very much.  For what felt like forever she continued to lap away, consuming and gulping down as mucha s she could.  Tasting his flavors so directly had nearly lit her fire again, but she needed to control herself.  

Once she’d made sure to have consumed as much as she could, even going as far as to lick what she could off of his onesie she went back to bed.  Letting time return she heard him nearly fall over, “Wha?!”  He’d apparently grown weak kneed with her previous endeavors.  “Wha… what is wrong with me?”  His voice released a hushed whisper, but she could still hear it, hear the embarrassment in his voice.  It… it was so delectable.  She… she was awakening tos something new.  She wanted more… but for now she’d sleep, close her eyes and rest.

[trumpkinhotboy]

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

[cades-outsider]

Miguel + Robby X Reader Pt: 2

Warnings: May be sad to some! This is also THE special I’ve been working on and now it’s completed! It is over 5,000 words long this is part 2!

The Choice

 

You smile as you see that is was Miguel, but guilt trips over you as your smile slowly falters but you pick up the call none the less.

  "Hello?" You question as you play with the hem of your tank top.

  "Hey baby! What time should I come over?" Miguel questions excitedly through the phone.

  "Um, we're having dinner at eight so maybe 7:30 and we can spend some time together if you'd like?" You question wanting to make sure Miguel was okay with it.

  "That sounds perfect I'll be over in less than an hour!" He exclaims as he rushes around his room out of breath.

  "What are you doing?" You question with a chuckle.

  "I'm looking for...- something to wear..." He breathes out as he throws a shirt across the room.

  You giggle at his goofy ness, you lean your head back against the couch again with the phone in your hand "well I'm wearing something red, so maybe if you want you could to so we could match" You joke.

  "That sounds amazing babe! Thank you, love you!" Miguel says making kissing noises to you from the phone.

  "Love you!" You say as he hangs up and you drop your phone on your chest randomly as you sink back into the couch.

  Your eyes widen internally as you remember Robby was in the room, your whole body freezes internally as you wince for Robby.

  Slowly you peak one eye open as you look towards Robby's way, to see him not there...?

  You open both your eyes fully as you look around confused as to where Robby could've been or went.

  You sigh as you walk upstairs to your room to get ready for the family dinner, your dad Daniel wasn't back yet so you decided to get ready until he arrived.

  You glance through your closet as you look for an out fit, you knew you were wearing something red as you said. So you picked out a red thigh high flow-y like dress and a small white cardigan to go over it with some white slacks.

  By the time you finished hair and slight makeup it was 7:20 when the door opened and you walked downstairs to see if it was Daniel.

  "Hey dad" You say as Daniel walks through the door.

  "Hey kiddo" He reply's as you walk closer to him.

  "Sooo were having a guest over for dinner" You say bashfully.

  Daniel raises his eyebrow as Amanda walks out of the kitchen taking a break from cooking while the food boils.

  "Her boyfriend" She says excitedly with a smirk as she points to you while saying 'her'.

  "Oh? Well what's his name?" He questions as he loosens his tie.

  "His name is Miguel and he's uh in Cobra Kai..." You say, putting it out there.

  "Oh?" Dad asks as he stops unloosing his tie.

  "Yeah so please don't judge him just by that! He's such a sweet boy!" You interject now panicking.

  "Hey sweetie, if it means this much to you... then I guess I could put it aside for you" Daniel sighs with a small smile, only wanting to make you happy.

  "Thank you! Oh and Robby's staying as well" you let him know as you hear a knock on the door.

  "That should be him, I told him he could come over early so we could spend some time together" You say excitedly as you rush to the door before opening it.

  "Hey baby!" You say excitedly as you pull Miguel into a hug to which he smiles lovingly at and rests his head on your shoulder.

  "Hey babe" He chuckles at how excited you were.

  You grab his hand as you walk him over to the kitchen "are you nervous?" you question swinging your intertwined hands together.

  "Very" He says as his voice starts to shake.

  "Hey-" You stop him "-you're going to do amazing Miguel" You smooth as you place a kiss onto his cheek giving him confidence as he nods.

  "Mom, dad this is Miguel" You introduce as both Daniel and Amanda turn around.

  Amanda smiles sweetly as she walks over to Miguel as does Daniel "it's a pleasure to finally meet you Miguel" She says as she pulls Miguel in for a hug.

  "It's nice to meet you Miguel" Daniel says as he holds his hand out, to shake Miguel's hand to which politely takes.

  "It's nice to meet you to Mr. and Mrs. LaRusso" Miguel says nervously.

  "Alright now don't go getting yourselves in trouble" Daniel chuckles as you both walk to your room.

  "We won't dad!" You reply chuckling as you open your door, leaving it open so Amanda or Daniel wouldn't get suspicious.

  "How was i?" Miguel says nervously.

  "You were amazing as always Miggy, they loved you so far!" You encouraged excitedly as you press a kiss to his cheek.

  "Nervous cannot explain how I feel right now, I feel like Demetri when he try's to talk to Yasmin" Miguel jokes causing you to laugh and lay your head on his shoulder whilst holding his hand.

  "Kids! Dinners ready!" Daniel yells from downstairs as thirty minutes had already passed. Miguel looks at you nervously before nodding his head try to encourage himself, you nod your head letting him know he was okay.

  Both you and Miguel walk downstairs seeing Sam walking to the table as well, and Anthony was not here as he was at a sleep over with his friend.

  You lead Miguel to the table setting him down as Robby walks into the kitchen sitting down in front of your view causing your nerves to fly up from what almost happened in the back patio.... or what did happen.

  "Would you like to say grace?" Amanda asks Daniel as we all began to hold out our hands connecting them together.

  You bow your heads down as Daniel says grace before lifting your heads back up when he's finished.

  Everyone starts putting food on their plates and when satisfied you began eating "so Miguel, I hear you're into karate?" Daniel asks, your eyes immediately wander towards your dad with pleading eyes though doesn't pay attention to it.

"Uh- yes sir I am" Miguel speaks up confidently causing you to smile.

Daniel hums in content "I hear you are in cobra Kai am I right?" He asks holding eye contact with Miguel.

Your body freezes for a moment, not knowing how this would play out. Your dad could be a tricky one, Miguel looks up frozen in place as well for a moment before he speaks up.

"That I am Mr. LaRusso" He smiles sweetly, proud of himself.

Daniel nods his head "you can call me Daniel if you'd like, Miguel" he reply's sincerely causing your excitement to rise.

"Thank you Mr- Daniel" Miguel shyly says almost stumbling over his words.

Daniel smiles as he looks over to Amanda nodding "So Miguel, would you like to come over next time for dinner?" She asks crossing her hands together.

"I'd love to Mrs. LaRusso" Miguel says happily.

Less than an hour and dinner had ended, both Daniel and Amanda went into the kitchen cleaning up while they talked about Miguel and how nice he was compared to being in Cobra Kai.

  "Oh my god Miguel you were amazing!" You say excitedly as you brace him into a big hug, he immediately excepts.

He lets out a huge breath of relief "oh my that was nerve recking" he sighs.

"Oh baby, you were amazing" You recite as you grab both of his hands and intertwined them with yours before pressing a long kiss on his lips, smiling as you do so.

You both stay silent for a little bit, just holding each other until you hear Daniel talking in the other room "I like him, he puts off good vibes" He says to Amanda, your heart warms even more as well as Miguel's; happy that his girlfriends parents except him, especially Daniel.

  Miguel smiles happily in the crook of your neck, you don't notice Robby walk by and neither does Miguel as Robby starts groaning internally. He really did like you, love you even but he knew he wouldn't amount to Miguel seeing as your parents liked him now.

  Sure your parents loved Robby but that was only because they didn't know his true intentions in the beginning. But after spending time with you, Daniel, and Amanda he grew comfortable with them completely dissing his original plan to make his dad jealous.

  Robby sighs defeated as he walks out the back patio taking a seat on one of the pool chairs, looking up at the semi stars that were starting to appear.

  "Is it okay if I use the bathroom?" Miguel shyly asks, pulling away from the hug a little.

  "Of course baby, it's down the hall to your left" You comment placing a kiss on his cheek as he walks to the bathroom.

  You sigh happily as you began to wander outside finding your way to the back patio to see Robby laying in one of the chairs looking up at the stars.

  You walk over to the other chair beside him before taking a seat now making it known that you were there.

  "Hey Robby..." You say awkwardly.

  "Do you need something?" He asks, almost rudely.

  "I-uh no- but I just wanted to talk about what happened earlier" You mumble.

  He looks over meeting your piercing eyes "nothing happened" He reply's bluntly before looking back at the moon lit sky.

  "Come on Robby- please" You plead, it was honestly making you feel really guilty; both ways.

  You were going to tell Miguel of course but first you wanted to try and clear the air with Robby. "Alright you want to talk? Go ahead, speak" He reply's before sitting straight up staring you down.

  You fumble as you place your hands in your lap "I just want to know what it was? What did it- almost feel to you?" You question, curiously.

  Robby sighs running a hand over his face the ring on his pointer finger shining in the moon light "I liked you a lot Y/n, before I had even known about Miguel- heck I didn't even know you had a boyfriend until then" He starts.

  "What did you feel?" Robby finishes as he searches your eyes for honesty.

  "I- I guess I felt butterfly's and I know it's wrong because I'm with Miguel bu-" Robby cuts you off with a kiss, sealing his lips against yours placing his hand gently on your cheek.

  You didn't kiss back, but you didn't pull away neither. You were mostly in shock, until a voice you all to know spoke up; one that always sounded happy when he got to see you after classes and during lunch.

  Broken. That's what Miguel's voice sounded like "Y-y/n?" He questions causing you to push Robby away, coming back to your senses.

  "Miguel..." You force out, your heart beating loudly; so loudly you could've sworn you heard it through your ears.

  "Y-you- we just- what-?" His voice trembles, feeling his chest tighten.

  "Miguel I can explain" You start, nervously.

  "Please explain to me the boy you said not to worry about were licking lips with yours" He says sadly as his face turns into frown, his shoulders drop: feeling defeated.

  You couldn't say anything, you couldn't get yourself to even squeak anything out. It was all to overwhelming, almost like something you'd see in a movie but only worse.

  "That's what I thought..." Miguel says sadly as he feels a tear fall out of his eye, he walks away and starts making his way home with his head hung low.

IF YOU CHOOSE MIGUEL

  No, no, no, no this could not be happening right now. Everything was going so good, you wouldn't let this ruin your amazing relationship with Miguel so you ran.

  You ran after Miguel, the love of your life halfway down the road you spot Miguel holding his bike with his hands as he speed walks.

  You run faster trying to catch up with him "Miguel!" You yell out catching his attention causing him to stop in place and turn around.

  You finally make it to him all the way and you jump into his arms causing him to stumble "I'm so sorry Miguel! I froze I didn't know what to do! I know it was wrong of me but I was frozen and words cannot describe how sorry I am that it almost happened a second time!" You start crying slightly as you slowly felt like the love of your life was slipping away from your hands.

  Miguel doesn't hug back to in pain, and shock "what do you mean second time?" He mumbles as you pull away from the hug trying to collect yourself enough to speak.

  "Early when I got home I taught Robby some karate moves while my dad was out and we fell and he leaned in but I pushed him away and he said he understood" You say crossing your arms.

  You were thankful that it was a fully lit neighborhood so you could actually see Miguel and he could see you.

  "I know sorry isn't going to replace the emotions I made you feel today but if you let me i will continue to make up for it for the rest-" But before you could get another peak out you felt lips against yours.

  The lips you loved against yours more than anything, his lips. The soft touch of his hands as they wrap around your waist almost hugging you.

  This is what magic felt like, you now knew that what you felt with Robby wasn't a flame heck it wasn't even spark. It was just teenage emotions.

  Miguel pulls away and pulls you into a tight hug "Y/n I love you and I forgive you I'm sorry" He apologizes.

  "No baby you have no reason to apologize it's all me and I'm sorry" You say pressing another kiss against his lips.

  "Let's go meet your family now, including your sensei"

IF YOU CHOOSE ROBBY

  You let Miguel walk away, you didn't chase after him like how the end of a movie is supposed to go. You chose Robby.

  You didn't know what it was about Robby but you chose him, of course Miguel was your first love and you would never forget him but you felt a flame between yourself and Robby.

  You let out a shaky breath as you turn to Robby to see him with his hands in his pockets and a guilty expression on his face.

  "I choose you Robby Keene" You say softly.

  His head snaps up at that, not used to having anyone choose him "what?" He asks, thinking he heard you wrong.

  "I choose. You. Robby Keene. I want you" You reply more clearly this time as you take a couple steps closer to him.

  "Are you sure? What if you feel like you didn't make the right choice later? And get tired of me?" He questions, suddenly feeling his insecurity's strike up.

  "I made the right choice Robby, and I want you" You state as you place a hand on his cheeks gently.

  He melts in your touch "okay... I believe you" He sighs heavily.

  "I want you to- no Y/n I need you" He caves finally breaking his walls down, letting you see the most vulnerable state of him.

  You both lean in for a kiss, pressing your lips against one another feeling fireworks explode in the background of it all.

  A few weeks passed before you and Miguel talked again, you both talked it out like adults and even though your first love figure would still be there you both went for someone new.

  Miguel said he understood your decision knowing that it made you happy which is all he ever wanted. Miguel started seeing Sam after a couple weeks before the breakup.

  You and Robby decided to wait a couple weeks before going straight into the relationship, soon you both got together and even had a couple double dates with Sam and Miguel.

  You both got your happy ending.

[elliesguitarstrings]

Silence (Part 3)

Masterlist//Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This took way too long to post but it’s finally here! I wrote this super late at night and I feel like it’s all over the place but I hope you still enjoy it. Also I’m getting to requests next so if you sent in a request don’t worry I’m not ignoring you lol I just wanted to get this out first. 

Warnings: language, angst

~~~~~~~~

Slowly, you walk downstairs, dreading the day to come. As you enter the kitchen, you see Peter smiling at you, finishing up the pancake batter.

Cheerily, he says, “Hey Y/N! You’re just in time, I just finished mixing up the batter.”

Maybe you’re wrong to get mad at him. He doesn’t realize how much of an asshole he’s being, and you can’t blame him. To him, the two of you have always just been friends, so inviting his other friends to come hang out with you is no big deal to him. But it’s just not something you can get over. He’s been your crush for a whole year, how are you supposed to get over it that fast?

You smile back weakly, walking around the counter to help him fry the batter. There’s a bit of an awkward (well at least to you it’s awkward) silence between you two, which is extremely rare, given that you two are best friends.

“Oh! You know what, I almost forgot something!” Peter exclaims, breaking the silence, “Your good morning hug!”

“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to-“

“Oh, come on, it’s our thing!” Peter cuts you off, pulling you into a tight embrace.

To be fair, it was your thing, but now it felt, well, weird, with him liking MJ and stuff. Fuck, today is gonna be hard.

You want to hug him back, but instead, you push him away, detangling yourself from his arms.

“What the fuck was that for?”

Thankfully, the pancakes were starting to turn a dark brown, giving you the perfect excuse.

“The pancakes are gonna burn, dumbass!”

Peter turns to look at the now smoking pancakes, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

The two of you rush to get the pancakes off the griddle, salvaging as much of the charred batter as possible, bursting out into laughter.

With the two of you hysterically laughing, for a second it’s like nothing has changed.

But then his phone rings. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and checks who’s calling.

“It’s MJ, I should probably pick up,” he says apologetically.

You nod your head and force another smile.

“Hey Peter, I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving to pick up Ned soon and I wanted to ask if we should meet you at the tower so we could all go to Delmar’s together?”

No. No no no no, absolutely not.

“Yeah that’s a great idea!”

Fuck.

“Okay, um, see you there then. Does thirty minutes sound good?”

“Sounds good to me! See you soon MJ!”

“Bye Peter, see you later.”

He hangs up the phone and stuffs it back into his pocket.

“That was Mj, she-“

“Yeah, I heard.”

That may have come out a bit more harshly than you expected it to.

“Oh, is that okay? I’m sorry I should have checked with you first-“

“No, Peter, don’t worry about it. It’s totally fine.”

“Oh okay! Great! Um, well, we should eat the pancakes before they get cold, well the ones we have left at least,” he chuckles.

You smile, grabbing two halfway burnt pancakes and putting them on a plate, drizzling syrup on top. Peter does the same.

You want to avoid more awkward silence while you eat, so you suggest putting on the TV and eating in the living room. Thankfully, Peter agrees, and the two of you settle on the couch.

By the time the show ends and you finish your breakfast, MJ texts Peter, telling him that she and Ned just arrived.

As if on cue, FRIDAY announces, “Two guests have just entered the premises. My systems recognize them as Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones. Should allow them inside?”

“Yeah FRIDAY, go ahead and let them in,” you answer.

“Of course, Miss. Stark. Access granted.”

“Peter, why don’t you go meet them downstairs. I’ll clean up the dishes.”

“Are you sure? I can help if you want-“

“No, no, it’s fine. I need to take care of something before we leave anyways. I’ll be down in just a sec.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

Peter heads downstairs while you take both of your plates to the sink.

Truthfully, you don’t actually need to do anything before you leave. You really just need a few seconds alone to prepare for the rough day you know is coming. You take a deep breath and go downstairs, grabbing your purse and saying goodbye to your parents on the way down.

Peter, Ned, and MJ are waiting at the door, happily conversing about today’s plans. The ones that you already made. The ones that Ned and MJ weren’t supposed to be a part of.

Nevertheless, you force a smile and wave at them, “Hey guys! Ready to go?”

“Yeah!” they all say in unison.

The four of you head out the door, starting your long and painful walk to the nearest subway station. You could have driven, but you were the only one with your official license (Peter was too scared to take the driver’s test even though he was old enough, and MJ and Ned weren’t old enough to get their license) and you really didn’t feel like being the chauffer today.

The walk actually starts out fine. The four of you make good conversation, and you feel a little more at ease about today’s events. Peter and MJ really just seem to be friendly with each other, not really flirting at all.

Until the sidewalk narrows.

It’s only wide enough for two people to walk, so you hang back, expecting Peter to stay with you. But instead he speeds up, walking with MJ, leaving Ned to walk with you.

“Are you kidding me?” you whisper under your breath.

“Huh?” Ned inquires.

“Oh, nothing, sorry.”

“Oh! No problem! So, how have you been…”

You and Ned make extremely awkward conversation for the rest of the walk, mostly with him just rambling on about random stuff. You’re only halfway paying attention to what he’s saying, too busy eyeing Peter and MJ walking in front of you, smiling and laughing with each other.

You really don’t want to have anything against MJ, she actually seems like a great girl. Sure, she’s a bit weird, and extremely dark at times, but she seems like a nice person nonetheless. But you just can’t shake the fact that Peter is picking her over you. Constantly.

Finally, after the excruciating walk, you arrive at the subway station. MJ and Peter are still walking together, a little too close for your liking, but what can you do about it?

You walk onto the subway and sit down in one of two empty seats, just hoping that Peter will sit next to you. And thankfully he does.

Finally, you get to talk to just him, like you were supposed to be doing this whole day.

Then, the lady sitting next to Peter gets up and off the subway, and MJ slips into the seat before someone else can take it. Peter turns to her, and they resume their conversation from earlier.

What. The. Fuck.

It’s like the universe is against you for some reason. All you want to do is spend some time with Peter, without anyone else butting in. But instead you spend the entirety of the subway ride listening to Ned continue to ramble on about some organic chemistry project he’s doing for the science fair, trying your best not to cry or burst out in anger.

The four of you get off the subway and walk into Delmar’s. You already know what you are going to get, so you let Ned and MJ order first.

Ned orders a #1, and MJ orders a #8.

You step up to the counter, “Hi Mr. Delmar, I’ll have the usual please.”

“You got it Miss. Stark, a #5 with pickles, just how you like it,” he motions to Peter, “I’m guessing the same for you Mr. Parker?”

“No, actually. I’m gonna have what MJ’s having. A #8 please today Mr. Delmar.”

Is this a joke?

You and Peter always order the same thing. You always have ever since Peter first brought you to Delmar’s. It’s like he was rubbing it in your face that he likes MJ and not you.

Mr. Delmar hands the four of you your sandwiches, and you sit at one of the few tables in the small store.

Of course, Peter and MJ are still happily chatting, now with Ned joining in. You eat in silence, pretending to be interested in their conversation as you don’t want to come off as rude (even though you really want to be rude to them). At this point, all hope for having a good day is lost. You aren’t being included in the day you planned, and your heart shattering crush on Peter is no help.

The entire way back home is just as agonizing. Despite your many attempts to walk next to Peter, he always finds a way to stick with MJ. At this point it seems like he’s just outright avoiding you, and it hurts.

Were you being that awkward at breakfast this morning? Or does he just like MJ that much?

Either way, you aren’t happy with him.

When you arrive back at the compound, Peter, Ned, and MJ all rush to the movie room, arguing about what movie to watch. You trail behind, telling them that you have to go up to your room really quick and that you’ll be back in a minute. Honestly, you’re not sure if any of them heard you, but you rush upstairs, just needing to be alone.

As soon as you reach your room, the feelings you’ve been bottling up all day immediately rush out. In a matter of seconds, you are a mess of tears and sobs, all of the pent-up sadness and anger flowing out.

“What seems to be the problem Miss. Stark? You seem to be in distress,” you are suddenly startled by FRIDAY.

“Oh, it’s nothing, FRIDAY, I’ve just had a hard day.”

“Would you care to talk about it? Unfortunately I do not have the capacity to comfort you emotionally, as I am merely an artificial intelligence system, but it is scientifically proven that vocalizing your feelings can help with the coping process.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Of course, Miss. Stark. I am programmed to keep secrets very well.”

“Okay, well, I like Peter. Like a lot. But he doesn’t like me back. And he’s been ignoring me all day for MJ and I’m so mad at him because today was supposed to be our day. And he fucking ruined it,” you rant, still sobbing.

“I am deeply sorry about that Miss. Stark. Would you like me to alert someone for you to talk to? Miss. Romanoff or Miss. Maximoff perhaps?”

“No FRIDAY, it’s fine. Thanks though.”

You feel so stupid, talking to some smart computer system about your problems instead of an actual person, but it did feel good finally letting your feelings out in words.

However, as the tears started to subside, the sadness slowly turned into anger. You thought about today’s events, how Peter had purposefully ignored you for MJ on what was supposed to be a day with just the two of you. You had put so much effort into today, planning out each little thing, and you were so excited about it. You wish you could just go back to this morning and tell Peter not to invite Ned and MJ, or honestly, just forget about the plan entirely. It’s not like Peter would have cared.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.

“Hey, it’s uh, it’s Peter.”

Of course.

“I just wanted to check on you. It’s been like half an hour, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, Peter. I’m fine. I just don’t feel great. Probably the food or something. Just go back to Ned and MJ and watch the movie. I’m just gonna stay up here and rest.”

“Oh, I, um. I already told them to leave. I just noticed that you seemed kind of off today, and I didn’t want them to like, interfere or anything.”

So now he was being nice.

“Do you want me to come in? Maybe we can snuggle and watch a movie together. I know how much you like snuggles when you aren’t feeling well.”

You wanted so badly to say yes, to let him cuddle with you and engulf you in his warm embrace. But your mind (and your heart) trails back to today’s events, how he still likes MJ, and how he’s only checking up on you because “you seem off.”

“No, Peter. I just need some rest. Maybe another time.”

“Oh, um, okay then. Feel better Y/N.”

At this point, you don’t know what else to do but fight fire with fire. If Peter wanted to ignore you all day, then that’s exactly what you would do to him. You don’t care how nice he’s being, Today just pushed you to the edge. The combination of your one-sided crush on Peter, and him being a dick all day leads you only to one thing. Silence.

~~~~~~~~

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