#need to catch it. with a net maybe. like those ones that they always show ppl catching butterflies and junk with on shows. pspsppspspspspsp

[lessi-lover]

teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader ~

(did you miss me cause i missed you) maybe a series 😉 ... but you'll never know? #even pests need love!

★ teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader

your sister smirked cheekily as she expertly dribbled the ball past your much smaller legs, slotting it effortlessly in the net a laugh falling from her curled lips as she turned back to see you flinging your head back in defeat.

"lessi please can we play something else? football is so boring!" you groaned, tugging on your sister's arm before she went to collect the ball to play again. "i dare hear those words come out your mouth again! or you'll be banned from movie night, you hear me!" she threatened with a wag of her finger.

the blonde knew just how much you loved movie night, lately it had become one of her many threats to her easily gullible enough sister once she realised how she could manipulate so simply. she didn't really have that kind of power but it was fun for your older sister to feel as high and mighty as her older brothers seemed to be.

your older sister who would make you run around the garden until you both collapsed on the ground in tired smiles, your mother calling out from inside that dinner was ready, the older woman chuckling as she watched you finally catch a breath.

your older sister who would pick your tiny frame off the ground and into her arms as she carried you inside to the table, shaking you out of your sleep as you dozed of in her hold. your older sister who would beg you to join the games night after dinner she had planned for weeks only to fall asleep in your bed the second you dragged her off to your room.

it was safe to say being the youngest russo was easily the most dangerous spot at the table, although your older siblings always argued that the love you recieved as the last grandchild was surely enough to make up for the countless unwanted tackles and jabs you copped from them.

being dubbed as "the nice one" you tried your best to stay out of the russo family wrestling matches, seemingly always the first to attempt breaking your older brothers out of quite literally clashing each others heads together, your older sister only spurring them on as she cheered from beside a worried you.

"go gio go! watch out for his arms you git!" she would squeal moving to jump on top of the sofa quickly out of the way as luca grabbed his younger brother in a headlock, the both of them rolling around all over the floor.

sure you and alessia fought not much differently to your brothers and not much differently to those of your friends, when the older girl would force you to play football with her for hours on end, as she sliced the ball past you almost taking your head with it.

and sure the england forward could make you think twice before telling her your weekend plans to see some of your mates when she would then proceed to show up with her own friends blasting the loudest music you'd ever heard. a shout from her car that "your lift had arrived!" embarrassing you to no end as she cheekily waved you over.

it was not long after that incident that you got your finally your own car three years later and suddenly your lifts from the older blonde were not required, so the blonde had decided you now needed to have a coffee date every sunday to catch up with her younger sister.

although a childhood friend of hers always tagged along and that saved you enough to not have to hear her boastful stories in your ear ever five seconds, though you claimed the older girl hyped herself up just to get on your nerves.

and even if the clumsy girl could be the biggest pain in your ass on a good day, you really did love your her and people would say the two of you would do anything for each other, to the ends of the earth they would say.

but she really could be a pain in your ass.

~

like right now.

"alessia i know how to be an adult! i don't need you on my ass every five seconds!" you seethed. crossing your arms moodily over your chest, ignoring her offer of a piece of gum and focussing on the cars speeding past.

"helicopter parent you are." you mumbled under your breath, smacking away her attempt to give you a hug with a huff. "i heard that!" she whined, giving you an amused smile as she continued driving home.

you sighed looking out the window, your eyes following the curves and edges of each familiar house as you drove past. "okay i'm sorry. can you forgive me!" she grinned with a pout, gripping your wrist over the console as she dragged out her words.

"fine but only because i owe you a coffee and this will cover the cost." you answered begrudgingly, pinching her arm to let go as the blonde let out a cheer and turned the volume of the music up.

you had never enjoyed football growing up, you knew your interests lay elsewhere from a young age. so whilst your siblings played rough house with each other in the garden, you preferred to spend time on your own. tucked away inside with a book often whilst your mother made dinner, the older woman listening to any and every thought of your for hours on end.

and as your siblings weekends began filling with games and tournaments, you now sat in the crowd still buried in your book, head lifting every so often when you would hear your father's loud cheers. different matches every saturday, travelling to the far ends of the country to support your siblings, but no matter how far you were always there for them.

when your sister had made the move over to states, you'd missed her greatly and if it wasn't for your brothers convincing that you needed to focus on your studies you were confident you would have nearly failed your last exams.

it wasn't long before you finished your final exams that you made the decision to move over to london to start your career in the business world. suddenly things began to become clearer, you knew your path lay elsewhere from your siblings.

your passion for business and entrepreneurship had been a driving force throughout your studies, and the opportunity to start your career in london was too good to pass up.

you'd of course settled in easily to the busy life of living in london, smoothly finding your feet as you were quick to immerse yourself in the fast work environment, joining a large company which offered you the chance to learn from experienced entrepreneurs.

now back to present day, you still hadn't taken your older sisters advice to finally take being part of a footballing family in your stride and you were still adamant that your days of kicking footballs with the blonde in the garden were long behind you.

it was through your company that you were able to secure a job at adidas by leveraging your experience from your previous company and network in the business world.

your reputation for innovative thinking and partnerships caught the attention of adidas' acquisition team, who were seeking fresh individuals for their corporate division. it was only after a series of successful collaborations which drove impactful projects, you were offered a high role within the company.

however things looked a lot different now, your sister had now finally moved back from the states and moved through the ranks to what she described as one of the top teams in europe, her training grounds only a mere fifteen minute drive from your apartment.

but given your new company's strong connections with many football teams, you found yourself collaborating with arsenal, or more familiar to you; your sisters club.

failing to realise how much of a pain your sister still was you had offered to help coordinate an event for the team, told by your marketing director to bring your skills to the table.

"right we're here grumpy pants, do you want my jacket in the back? bloody freezing this morning." she grumbled, zipping up her own jacket as she turned the engine off.

"no i'll be fine thanks." you replied, giving your sister a cheeky smile as you stepped out of the car. you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck and looked around at the different fields.

"you look so funny!" you giggled, tugging on your sisters clothing all branded by her club. "oh shush." she hummed, playfully swatting your hands away with a smile. "you're just as annoying as i remember!" she grinned down at you, the blonde easily a few feet taller than you.

"can't say i don't remember younger you at all!" you said sarcastically. pulling up your phone to show her your lock screen, your background a photo of the two of you in the backseat of the car, probably driving off to one of her games out west.

you laughed all the way into the building, unable to contain yourself when the forward pushed on a so clearly labeled pull door and smashed into the glass, causing her to almost topple over.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, trying to stifle your laughter as as a red mark appeared on her forehead, your sister with a pout on her face. "oh less." you chuckled, watching as your sisters frown deepened.

you reached out to inspect the mark, still trying not to laugh as much as you wanted to. "stop laughing!" she whined, looking a little embarrassed as she made eye contact with her teammates coming through the entrance. "it was an accident okay! my heads sore now."

"okay sorry, i'm sorry!" you apologised, finally able to suppress your giggles. "do you need ice or something?" you asked, pulling the clumsy girl off the floor. "i'll be alright, come on let's go inside."

"well good morning miss russo times two!" you bumped into lotte as you arrived, all of you entering the building at the same time. "lotts!" you squealed, jumping into the older girls arms as she lifted you off the ground.

"tiny! haven't seen you in ages, how's london treating you then?" she asked. the three of you fell into conversation as if no time had passed since you'd seen your sister's best friend.

"but i won't forget the time you made me pick you and gracie up from the dock, the two of you were completely shit faced!" she laughed, reminding you of the time you and a couple of friends maybe not so accidently drank way too much at a party and drunkenly called lotte to uber you home.

"my learning curve was thinking beer and liquor would mix nicely." you winced, thinking back to the hours after the party that lotte spent holding your hair back as you emptied your stomach. "fun night that was." in hindsight it probably wasn't the best start to your last year at school, but it was an easy excuse to not ever get that drunk again.

"yeah pretty fun night until i was woken up in the middle of the night to you and lotte at my window." your sister grumbled, clearly not as amused by the memory as you and lotte. she shrugged her jacket off up in her locker whilst you sat down on the bench.

"oh don't be a grub. can't forget when you and tooney had big night down in london." you chuckled, referring to the time her and the mancunian came home at four in the morning after having taken their first night out in the city.

"mum's got the patience of a saint." the two of you shared a look at that before bursting into a fit of laughter. pulling yourself up from the bench to grab your sister into a tight hug, your bond ran so deep. "i missed this tiny." she spoke into your hair, not missing beth's smile over your shoulders.

"oi russo who's the new lass?" a girl you recognised from your sisters instagram walked over, as you broke away from the hug. "katie meet my sister, she's here on behalf of adidas for a marketing event." the blonde introduced you as a few more girls floated into the locker room.

"nice to meet ya." she smiled, her accent thick as ever. "likewise." you answered, easily falling into a conversation about what you did at college, the irish girl interested in your role at the company.

lotte and alessia shared a look as they too fell into check as katie sat down with you. you watched as katie grinned over your head, clearly smiling at another teammate as you heard them behind you. "look who finally showed!" she chuckled as three girls entered the room, one of them tucking themself into her side.

you couldn't help but let your eyes draw to the youngest of the three as they put their stuff down, there was something captivating about her energy and you couldn't quite place it. that or the fact that she was easily the closest in age to you and downright the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

caught in your thoughts, you barely even noticed the look that your sister and lotte shared over your head. "awfully chipper this morning, love." she joked as the girl grumpily rested her head onto katie's shoulder, seemingly not have had a great sleep last night. "not my fault dean was away and steph can't handle the pest on her own." she mumbled tiredly, glaring at a younger girl who you gathered was sitting next to steph who looked equally as tired.

"this is cait, arsenal superstar, australian international and most importantly my girlfriend." katie explained, kissing the top of caitlin's head before a hand pushed her face away. "shut up," caitlin giggled as she pulled herself closer.

"hi i'm caitlin nice to meet you, you're alessia's sister aren't you?" she spoke and you nodded back. "yeah that's me." you smiled, shaking her hand as she extended it. "less hasn't stopped talking about you all week, think she's more excited i'm here than i am," you chuckled.

"only good things i hope!" katie said back as your sister sat back down next to you. "mostly good things." you teased as alessia swatted your arm. "tiny best get a move on before those two show you a washing demo!" lotte said, patting your head hearing you laugh.

"not a pest." the younger girl grinned as she came back, arms firmly crossed as she moved across the room, flicking both katie and caitlin. "such a pest" caitlin groaned, as she winked at you.

"you must be kyra." you deduced, recognising the unmistakable australian accent, your sister having described the girls when you met for coffee earlier this week.

"one and only! you're less' sisters aren't you, been looking forward to meeting you." she smirked and caught off guard you couldn't help but blush at her forwardness, but before your cheeks could redden further you caught katie's eyes as she grinned.

but your attention was quickly elsewhere as kyra pulled steph's bun out of it's elastic before grabbing her in a headlock. "quick take it!" kyra shrieked as steph tried to grab her, her hand brushing yours as she tried to give you the elastic.

the australian so easily drew you in like a moth to a flame as her touch lingered on your hands sending a shiver down your spine as you heard her laugh, you couldn't help but wonder if she had done it intentionally.

you felt your breath get caught in your throat as your cheeks once again reddened and you struggled to stay focussed on what your sister was saying. kyra grasped for help with her attractive smile as steph took her down on the floor, the blonde begging for your help as your connected hands brought you both crashing to the ground.

pulling yourself off the blonde you sat up against the wall, herself with a smug grin as you were left alone on the ground. steph having been fed up and walked off the rest of the girls still conversing after a long two weeks apart.

"well, seems we have made friends with the floor." she giggled and you knocked your arm against her with a smile. "seems so." you agreed, the two of you falling into conversation.

perhaps it was the blondes cheeky smile that lured you towards her, or maybe it was the way she seemed so eager to meet you, or even the way her fingers so easily grazed over your own or the warmth that disappeared with them.

~

[bookworm551]

Take the Edge Off | Part 9 | Stitches

Summary: After a failed mission, Miguel needs to patch you up.

A/N: well, new year, new chapter (finally). I’m getting real close to finishing up this series, maybe 2 more parts. This took forever bc I needed a filler and had no idea what to do, and this is also the longest part so far. At least I know where to go from here, so I should have the next part up relatively soon 💀

Warnings: smut (duh), canon-typical violence, wound care

10.2k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

You had grossly underestimated how difficult catching Ghost would be.

The main issue was finding him. He was smart, and he seemed to realize that anytime he spent too much time in one dimension, you and the team would pounce, and like water in your hand, he always managed to slip away. The closest you came to catching him was about three weeks after your bet, and it was an absolute shit show.

"Fuck me," you grunted under your breath when another explosion knocked you into the wall. Ghost came from a universe with hammerspace, and every new dimension he traveled to, he managed to store away more and more dangerous equipment. Now, you were there in some alleyway, half your team missing, fighting off a barrage of missiles, bombs, and sharp projectiles.

Across from you, Ben was tangled in a net trap, and Malala was groaning on the floor as she recovered from an intense electrical shock. Clenching your jaw, you leapt off the wall at Ghost. You were getting aggravated by how difficult this was. Why couldn't he be a regular villain and let you catch him?

Anticipating your move, Ghost jumped out of the way. You webbed him and yanked him toward yourself. Rather than fighting your pull, Ghost flew at you and pounced on your form, knocking you flat on your back. He drove his fists into your ribs, and you cried out as electricity coursed through your body. He held his fists, adorned in makeshift gauntlets, to you as you lay paralyzed by pain.

"Where's the big guy?" He asked you, his voice low and silky. "He's always a good time." You weren't even able to breathe from the shocks pulsing in your ribs, but before you would've been able to answer him, your attention was captured by the sight of a yellow portal to your right.

For one dreadful moment, you thought it was Ghost's escape. His slippery nature was due to the watch he had stolen from Ben all those months ago, and it seemed almost impossible to keep him in one dimension long enough to catch him.

To your tremendous relief however, Miguel's muscular form flew out of the portal, knocking the anomaly off of your body. You took a ragged breath as the two men tumbled to your side. "Oh! Here you are!" Ghost laughed, pushing himself off the floor to face Miguel. "We were just talking about you."

Miguel turned his head for a moment to assess your form still gasping for breath. "You're late," you wheezed to him as you rolled onto your side to stand up again. You'd been here fighting alongside Ben and Malala since the alert from Lyla had gone out, and Miguel was only just now showing up. You didn't even know where Jess and the others were.

Seeing that you were well enough to give him sass, Miguel turned back to face Ghost, shooting a web that Ghost easily avoided. "You missed," he teased, but he was quickly eating his words when Miguel yanked the dumpster he had webbed instead and slammed it into the arrogant anomaly.

While Ghost was still recovering from his hit, Miguel threw his containment unit device at Ghost’s form. It slid right next to him, but a microsecond before it deployed, the anomaly rolled away, causing the orange force field to envelop nothing.

"Interesting," Ghost stated, sounding genuinely fascinated as he observed the glowing orange cage. You huffed in irritation, finally managing to sit up now that your muscles weren't spasming anymore. As much as you usually enjoyed banter with your enemies, you were not in the mood.

Miguel lunged after Ghost, who pulled another weapon seemingly out of nowhere and fired a spray of spinning razors at him. Miguel began twisting through the air, managing to evade every blade with expert precision.

Unfortunately for you, your screaming muscles weren’t able to move quite as fast as you needed. You leapt through the air to try and dodge the razors, but midair, one clipped you right in the shoulder, cutting deep from the front of your shoulder down almost to your back.

You cried out in pain, slamming hard into the ground as you fell. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, and you lay there struggling to breathe while hot pain blossomed in your shoulder.

Hearing your pained cry, Miguel froze, his body automatically turning to find you. You lay there a moment before moving to roll onto your good side. You pushed yourself up with a groan, and you were surprised to find Miguel at your side and pressing you back down to the floor. “Don’t move,” he urged as he gently held you down.

Even though his face was hidden, you could see he was examining your wound. “I’m fine,” you grunted, moving to sit up again. Miguel must’ve seen that you weren’t too terribly wounded and watched you carefully while you sat up off the ground before finally saying, “Okay.”

Together, you turned back to face Ghost. He was standing with a curious look on his face and an unsettling smile on his lips. “Now, that is interesting,” he said. Before either of you could move at him, Malala came swinging in a blur and knocked the anomaly off his feet. “I’m getting real tired of his gabbing,” she muttered, sounding as aggravated as you felt.

Ghost didn’t stay down for long. “It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he observed. He quickly typed something into his watch, and a portal opened up beside him. “No!” Miguel snarled, leaving your side to lunge after him. You also stood up, grinding your teeth in pain as you leapt after him.

To buy himself time, Ghost threw down two small capsules that flashed brightly, making you balk. When the sun spots faded from your eyes, there was still a thick cloud of smoke around you, causing you to cough weakly. Your eyes scanned the alley for your rival, and you found him scooping up the containment unit device Miguel had thrown.

You flung yourself at him, trying to web the device from his hands. Hitting his arm, you pulled him forward with all your strength. He flew at your body, but when you raised a hand to hit him with your bad arm, pain flared from your shoulder and caused you to stumble, and you only managed a weak punch.

Seeing your pain, Ghost pulled a knife out of who-knows-where and severed the line between you. Scrambling away, he jumped for the portal and fell inside it just as Miguel tried to catch him, and within a breath, the portal to an unknown dimension closed.

“No!” Miguel shouted in frustration, his fist punching the wall where the portal had been mere seconds ago. You let out an aggravated breath. This was the closest you had ever been to catching Ghost, so frustratingly close that it made your chest burn in anger.

There was a tense second where nobody spoke. You could see that Miguel was breathing hard. At your side, Malala stood up with a heavy sigh and moved over to help Ben who was still entangled in a net.

Miguel whirled on you. “What happened?!” Miguel shouted at you. You gaped at him incredulously. “You’re asking me?!” You shot back angrily. “Where the hell were you when the alert went out?”

Miguel’s mask retracted to reveal his scowling face. “We had him!” he snarled, ignoring your question and directing his anger towards you.

Your frustration boiled in your chest. Not only had Miguel been late to the call, but his accusatory words were some of the first that he had spoken directly to you since he added you to the team. It had been weeks since you had spoken to each other. It seemed as though since your last encounter, he had been avoiding you. Your interactions had been brief and relevant only to the mission, and you hadn’t even spent any time alone together since you had been added to the team.

“Yeah, we had him,” you repeated angrily, your own mask retracting. “We had him until you stopped going after him.” His face contorted into a scowl, and his figure towered over you. “You had plenty of time to incapacitate him,” he argued.

You scoffed. “Yeah, I had plenty of time waiting for you to show up,” you shot back. “And as soon as you do, you turn your back on him.”

“You were hurt,” he stated sharply. His eyes fell to your shoulder, and you thought that some of his anger dissipated from his face. “You are hurt,” he corrected himself, his voice still sharp but a bit less angry.

You almost scoffed again, but when you looked down at your shoulder, you grimaced. Your suit had retracted around your cut, exposing the deep slice in your shoulder. In your adrenaline-fueled state, you had only briefly felt it, but now, seeing it slowly oozing blood, the pain was suddenly very noticeable.

"Shit," you sighed under your breath. You were used to dressing your own wounds, but this one was in a spot that was going to be difficult to treat. "I'll be fine," you said dismissively.

Miguel seemed to compose himself a little bit. He closed his eyes with a deep sigh before looking back at your shoulder. "You need stitches," he said.

You rolled your eyes. "I said I'll be fine," you repeated firmly. "Don't be stupid," he replied in a flat voice. "And don't try to tell me you can do it yourself." You closed your mouth and huffed. That's exactly what you were about to say.

"Fine, I'll get Jess to do it," you stated in exasperation. "Happy?"

"Like hell you will," he muttered, typing something into his watch. A portal opened beside you, and Miguel looked back at you, irritation still evident on his face though perhaps not so much as before.

"What?" You asked expectantly. He shot you an impatient look. "Go," he told you sharply. You shifted your stance defiantly, stubbornly remaining where you were. "I don't want to go with you," you argued. He sighed in exasperation. "Would you stop being so damn stubborn and go through the stupid portal?" He snapped.

You stared up at him in contempt. His demanding tone and harsh mannerisms made you feel resistant to accepting any of his help. After ignoring you for weeks and snapping at you during this failure of a mission, he was the last person you wanted seeing you in pain.

You both continued staring at each other, each refusing to look away first. You felt blood oozing down your back, and the pain was really starting to radiate in your shoulder. Miguel stared at you with a deadpan expression, knowing it was only a matter of time before you would give in.

You realized with a wave of aggravation that he was going to win your staring standoff. With a sigh, you grit your teeth together and looked down in defeat. "Fine," you muttered sourly. Pushing past him, you walked into the portal and didn't bother looking back to see if he was coming.

You weren't quite sure what you were expecting on the other side of the portal, but you were somewhat surprised to find yourself standing in Miguel's room. It was just as you remembered it from weeks ago— simple, neat, and barely used.

From behind you, Miguel stepped into the room, not even sparing you a glance before heading to the bathroom. You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following after him. He pulled out a large black bag onto the counter space filled with all sorts of medical equipment. He was laying out materials for suturing as you walked in.

"Sit."

You scoffed in annoyance. "I know you know how to say please," you grumbled. He didn't respond, turning to his sink to wash his hands rather than answering you. If you had been in a pettier mood, you wouldn't have moved until he asked nicely, but you were in pain and ready to get it over with, so you pushed yourself up onto the counter by the sink and waited for him.

Miguel pulled a pair of gloves over his hands and inspected your wound carefully. "Your suit," he said flatly, indicating that it was in the way. Sighing, you let your suit retract just enough to reveal half your torso for him. It didn't matter that this man had seen you completely naked on several occasions, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you undressed now, even if he was only going to stitch you up.

Miguel began with wiping away the blood from the skin around your wound. You flinched hard. The pressure he used was light but still painful, and you closed your eyes to fight the grimace that was trying to show. It took you a second to realize that this was the first time he'd touched you in weeks.

Despite your irritation towards him, you couldn’t help but notice how closely he was standing to you. From the corner of your eye, you watched his face as he worked diligently to take care of you. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched as he focused his attention on your skin, and there was only the sounds of his soft, steady breathing in your ear.

When he was satisfied with how your skin looked, he sprayed antiseptic on it before asking, “Do you want something for the pain?” You considered it for half a moment before shaking your head. You had managed stitches before, and it wasn’t as painful as some other shit you’d experienced before.

He waited to see if you’d change your mind before lifting the threaded needle with his forceps. Despite your resolution against painkillers, you ground your teeth as the needle punctured your skin. "Sorry," Miguel murmured softly as he pulled the suture through your skin. He was obviously trying to work as gently as possible, but pain was inevitable with suturing.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you tried your best to ignore the pain, but with how slowly he was going and how thick the tension was, you knew you were going to need a distraction.

"Are you sure we couldn't have just used butterfly stitches?" You asked sourly as he pulled the thread again. "Yes," he replied firmly. "This is deep. You got lucky, too. If it had been just a few inches over, the blade would've hit your neck, and you'd need a lot more than sutures."

"It wasn't luck," you replied pointedly. "It was skill." Miguel gave a disbelieving snort as he pulled the thread tight. "If you really had skill, it wouldn't have hit you at all," he mumbled.

You huffed indignantly. "Oh, please," you began, "don't pretend like you haven't had to take a few hits before. It's practically in the job description."

Miguel didn't reply as he pierced the needle through your skin again, causing you to wince at the pain. You thought he was going to make some sharp bullshit retort about how he didn't get as hurt as you, but instead, he just sighed.

"This was too close," he murmured at last.

Your defensive attitude softened considerably at his words. Studying his face closely, you realized that he wasn't being critical, he was being protective. With your new understanding, you almost felt bad for being angry at him.

"I've had closer," you told him wryly. He frowned. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked in a dull voice. You gave a small huff in amusement. "It's supposed to show you that you don't have to worry about me," you explained earnestly.

He didn't say anything to you as he continued sewing up your cut. The sting of the needle caused you to wince again, and you tried to think of something to talk about to distract you from the pain.

"At least I don't have to fix up my suit," you said at last, hoping he would pick up the conversation. Miguel hummed before replying, "It's almost impossible to destroy unstable molecule fabric."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Well if it was impossible to destroy, wouldn't it protect me from even getting cut?"

"That's not how it works," he told you flatly.

"So then how does it work?"

He gave a short sigh, indicating to you that he was not in the mood to entertain your curiosity. Nevertheless, he did. "The molecules work almost as a form of energy," he explained. "They assess the host molecules and change with them. The suit learns your body and reacts with it."

Another stitch was added, but you didn't feel it quite as much as before.

"When you were cut, it didn't destroy the suit," he continued, "it interrupted it. Your skin was damaged, and the suit left it exposed because your wound isn't the default for the molecules."

You studied his face as he spoke, a smile slowly growing on your lips. When he had finished explaining the science of the suit, he seemed to feel your stare and glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Nerd," you said at last.

That seemed to pull him out of his grumpiness somewhat, and he turned his attention back to your shoulder. "You asked," he mumbled, but the sharp edge that was in his voice was gone.

"So then how does the suit retract into my web shooters?" You asked, genuinely interested in knowing more about the fascinating technology you wore everyday, and it definitely helped distract you from the pain.

"Since the suit can take on an energy form," he explained, "it can be stored in the web shooters as a form of data." You stared down at the web shooters on your wrists. It was amazing that such an unsuspecting piece of technology housed such powerful energy.

"They look just like my old pair," you noted. Miguel nodded, his eyes never leaving your shoulder as he worked. "I know, that's what I was aiming for," he said, "but I was thrown off by the web cartridges you use."

You smirked. "Pretty cool, right?" You said proudly. "I built a system that condenses the water in the air and converts it into a hydropolymer to supplement my web supply. It's not as strong as my original formula, but it saves me from having a web block."

Miguel's eyebrows lifted somewhat as he listened. If you hadn't known better, you could almost say he was impressed. He must've noticed your staring because he turned his eyes to meet yours, and his face softened.

"Nerd," he said.

You smiled in return and rolled your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled playfully. His lips widened fractionally, and his eyes returned back to your shoulder. You felt more relaxed now. The anger and irritation you were feeling before had disappeared as soon as you saw him smile.

"How's it looking, doc?" You asked after a moment, trying to turn your head to see his progress. “Don’t move your head,” Miguel said and nudged your face with the back of his wrist. "And you're not going to be doing any swinging for the next few days.” Your eyes snapped up to look at him. "It's not that bad," you argued weakly. "I'll be fine."

Miguel gave you a stern look. "In your shoulder, it is that bad," he said. "If you tear this, it's going to scar even worse than it's already going to now."

You rolled your eyes again. "Well, you know better than most that this isn't my first or worst scar," you argued, "and it probably won't be my last." It was true. Your body was covered in scars large and small, old and new, and this was just another addition to your collection.

Miguel didn't reply to you. He had worked steadily from the back of your shoulder to the front, but the closer he got to your neck, the worse the pain felt. You did your best to remain neutral, but you couldn't help the small grunt of discomfort that sounded in your throat. Miguel heard it and asked gently, "Do you want something for the pain?"

You shook your head in response. "I have my own stuff," you told him before a crooked grin pulled on your lips. "But you know what I've heard is a natural pain killer?" You added slyly.

Miguel heard the mischief in your voice, and he looked back at your face with suspicion. "What?" He asked carefully.

In a sweet tone, you answered, "Kissing."

Miguel gave you a disapproving look, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I told you not until we get the anomaly," he said pointedly.

You weren't discouraged by his assertion. "I just want to see if it works," you told him innocently. "It's an experiment."

"With an ulterior motive."

"The motive is to get rid of the pain."

He still wore a skeptical look, so you tried again. "It's for science," you explained, batting your eyes at him. After weeks of not touching him, you longed to feel his body against your own.

Miguel was unconvinced. He gave an unimpressed hum and pulled his needle through your skin again. It seemed he wasn't going to budge. Heaving a large sigh, you continued, "But if you don't want to participate, maybe I'll find someone else who does."

Miguel pulled his stitch tight, making you wince. "I bet you think that's funny," he said in a flat voice.

"I bet you don't," you shot back.

"Because it's not."

"Well," you began slowly, hesitating as you wondered if you should even start this conversation with him. You’d thought a lot about him the past few weeks, and barely seeing him for weeks now had made you realize that being a casual fling wasn’t what you wanted anymore. "I know you've expressed many times that this isn't a relationship,” you said carefully, “so I don't really see what the issue is."

Your heart was beating a little faster now. Your words opened the door to a conversation that you were both eager and terrified to have. You wanted desperately to know how he felt about you, about whatever this was between you. You were also nervous that he didn't feel what you felt or want what you wanted.

At your words, Miguel's face darkened. He stayed quiet for a second before he resumed suturing. "If that's what you want," he muttered at last.

There was a tense silence that settled between you. You stared up at his hardened face, trying to determine what he was thinking.

"It's not," you replied quietly, "but being on this break got me thinking."

"About?"

"About how I feel about this whole arrangement."

The tense silence returned. Miguel's eyes were fixed determinedly on your shoulder, and his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to what you said.

"You want to end it?" He asked, his voice level and neutral.

"No," you said a bit too quickly. "It's just..." you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to tell him what you wanted. Doubt nibbled at your mind, and you wondered if this was even a good idea at all.

Miguel noticed your apprehension, and he stopped sewing your wound to give you his undivided attention. His dark eyes met yours, and he was so close to you that it caused your heart to flutter.

You looked away to regain your thoughts. "I know that this is supposed to be a casual thing," you began slowly. "And I know what you said about time and relationships. I just..." you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the counter. "I don't want to be just a diversion for you, a mindless distraction that you can pick up or put down as you please."

Your face burned as you spoke, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at his face. Miguel murmured your name softly, and you closed your eyes to keep from seeing his reaction.

"If that's still what you still want, that's fine," you continued quickly. "I'm not trying to force you into something you don't want." You sighed as you opened your eyes again. "That's just how I feel," you finished quietly.

Silence enveloped you, suffocating, nerve-wracking silence. After a couple heartbeats, you forced yourself to look up at Miguel. He was still staring at you, but instead of wearing an awkward or even condescending expression as you had expected, his face was soft, almost thoughtful.

You stared at each other quietly for a moment longer before he finally turned his gaze back to your shoulder. Picking up his hands again, he began working on your sutures without reply.

Your stomach tightened anxiously at his silence, and you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. You didn't feel the pain of your wound anymore now that your mind was racing with what you just said and Miguel's utter lack of response.

"It's not that I don't want it," he said at last. "Because I do."

Your eyes shot up to his face as he spoke. His gaze was still fixed on your stitches, but you could see clearly that he was thinking about what you just said.

"Then what is it?" You asked quietly.

Miguel took a moment to respond, his hands never ceasing their work. "I built my whole life around what we're doing here," he began slowly. "When I say I don't have time for a relationship, it means I can't give you the time you deserve." He glanced over at your face briefly before returning back to your shoulder, his eyes growing distant.

"The last time I let myself get close to someone, I hurt a lot of people," he added quietly. "More than I could ever make up for." He paused for a moment and sighed. "I just don't want to see that happen to you," he said softly.

Your heart ached. You remembered what he told you, how his actions triggered the destruction of a universe. The burden of his past still clearly weighed on his conscious, and you didn't know what to say to him to comfort him.

In the silence following, Miguel tied off the last stitch. With a pair of scissors from the kit, he snipped the line. You looked down at the neat row of sutures that held your cut closed. His work was precise, and you knew it was miles better than what you could've done by yourself.

Miguel was cleaning up his materials, clearly trying to avoid eye contact with you as he did. You watched for a second before taking a deep breath.

"You know, I've learned a lot of things since I was bitten by that stupid spider," you began, breaking the silence around you. "First, pain is unavoidable." You pointed to your shoulder's fresh stitches. "Case in point," you said wryly.

Miguel didn't react to your weak joke. He continued packing his materials away, but you could tell he was still listening to what you were saying.

"My second lesson," you continued, "was that I would always be alone."

Miguel paused, and his eyes turned back to your face. "There was nobody who knows what it's like to be me," you explained. "Nobody who knew what I've sacrificed. I had nobody to trust with this secret life, and the longer I did this, the more I regretted being Spider-Woman."

You stared down at the web shooters adorning your wrists as you contemplated your own words. You had never told anybody this before, not even the other Spiders. You had suffered so much by yourself, and only now for the first time did you feel like you could share your life with someone.

"But when I came here," you continued quietly, "it all changed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by people who did understand, who also felt how I did." You paused again, and you finally looked up at his face. His eyes were watching you with a look of understanding and sympathy that made your throat tighten unexpectedly.

Your eyes broke away from his stare again, and you stated quietly, "When you offered me a place here, I wasn't alone anymore."

Miguel nodded softly. "That's what I wanted," he replied. "A community for people like us." You tilted your head up at him and studied his countenance. "Then why do you still act like you're doing it alone?" You asked.

He sighed uncomfortably, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the sink counter. "In a lot of ways, I am doing it alone," he stated quietly. "Everyone here enjoys doing the missions, seeing all the new dimensions, and meeting new Spiders. I'm the one who has to do all the damage control, the recruitment, the dirty work." He sighed again and muttered grimly, "I don't always like what I have to do."

You raised an eyebrow at his melodramatic statement. "You know, it would probably be more enjoyable if you actually interacted with the other Spiders," you told him with a pointed look.

Miguel huffed a short breath. "I'm not trying to get close to anyone," he stated firmly. That made you pause and tilt your head in interest. "Then what am I?" You asked, a curious smile pulling at your mouth.

His gloomy expression lifted somewhat as he looked at you. He uncrossed his arms and planted them on the counter on either side of your body, and he stared at your face thoughtfully. You stared back, waiting for an answer.

"You," he began slowly, "were a distraction to take the edge off." You hummed thoughtfully in response, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer. "And now?" You prompted, your eyes falling to his lips.

"And now," he echoed, "you're the person I bring back to my room to stitch up because I don't trust anyone else to do it."

You smiled at him, and your stomach fluttered at how close he was to you. You wanted so badly to kiss him. Your lips yearned for the feeling of his mouth against yours.

"I guess that makes me pretty special," you replied smugly.

A glimmer of reluctant amusement shone in his face, and he tilted his head in mock consideration. "I think 'special' is a stretch," he stated coolly. You placed a hand over your heart dramatically. "Ouch," you gasped. "And you wonder why I joke about going to other people."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't wonder," he stated. "I know exactly why you do it."

"And why is that?" You asked coyly.

Miguel shot you an unconvinced look. "Because it gets under my skin, and you know it," he replied. You smirked, unable to deny the truth in his statement.

"If that's true, then that would make me a horrible person," you told him.

"You are a horrible person."

Your smile widened, and with your good arm, you raised your hand to his chest and let it slowly wander up to wrap behind his neck. "Then why do you like me?" You asked innocently.

Miguel was looking at your lips now, and there was a hint of playfulness in his face. "'Like' is a strong word," he said thoughtfully. "I think 'tolerate' is more accurate."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "Damn, is there anything in the first aid kit for a broken heart?" You joked. He couldn't stop himself from smiling softly at your theatrics. "You're ridiculous," he said.

You hummed, pulling him closer to your face. "You love it," you insisted. His nose brushed against yours before he repeated, "I tolerate it." You chuckled and gave a careful shrug. "Same difference," you said before pulling his lips down against yours.

You couldn't resist smiling against his lips as you kissed him for the first time in weeks. You were savoring every sweet second of his body against yours. His mouth moved slowly against your own, and he snaked an arm around your torso, making your face glow with a faint blush.

His words echoed in your head. It's not that I don't want it. So, he did feel the same way you did, or at least, to some degree he did. The thought alone made your stomach flutter, and you ran your fingers through his hair while trying to memorize how his lips felt against yours.

When you finally broke apart, you still wore a smile on your face as his forehead rested on yours. "Oh wow, that does help with the pain," you commented. The pain had subsided considerably when his mouth was pressed against yours.

Miguel chuckled and kissed you again briefly. "Consider your experiment a success," he said. You hummed thoughtfully. "I would be an irresponsible scientist if I didn't repeat my experiment to prove its validity," you argued, earning a smile from him before you pressed your lips to his again.

It felt so good to kiss him, especially after the shitty failure that was today's mission, and the warmth of his body melted all your troubles away from your mind. You didn't care about the mission or your injury. He was here with you, everything else could wait.

With your fingers still running through his hair, you grabbed a fistful of jet-black strands and deepened your kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth with a sigh. His hand on your waist tightened while he grunted softly into your mouth.

Breaking away from your lips, Miguel murmured your name in a low, warning voice. "Hmm?" You replied innocently, looking up at his dark eyes through your lashes. "We had an agreement," he said.

"Yeah, when I was on the team," you told him. "But you just said that I need to lay off for a few days..." you gave him a pointed look, "...which means I'm technically off the team for a few days..." you pulled his face back down to yours, "...which means that our agreement is null and void."

With that, you pressed your lips to his in a deep kiss before he could argue back. It was a weak argument, and you knew it, but you didn't want him to challenge it. You wanted him to want you.

His grip around your waist tightened as he pushed against your tongue with his own. You couldn't help the small moan you gave as his passion began to show, and all the longing you'd been feeling for Miguel the past couple weeks began welling up inside you.

Your lips separated for a moment. "Treacherous," he murmured breathlessly against your skin. You hummed, blinking your eyes open to look at him. His face looked restless, and you knew he was hungry for more.

"So I've been told," you replied smugly as you moved your lips down to his neck. Miguel gave a deep sigh at the feeling of your kisses on his sensitive skin, skin that felt warm and soft to the touch.

In your growing desire for him, your teeth gently nipped his bare flesh. Miguel sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, his fingers gripping your waist tightly as he whispered your name again. You smiled deviously as his reaction, and your legs wrapped around his hips to bring his body flush against yours.

"Give me more," you mumbled against his skin. Miguel took a second to respond, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep his composure. "You're hurt," he argued weakly. Based on his strained voice, you knew he had all but given in to the craving of your touch. You raised your head up so that you could look him in his dark, restless eyes, noses brushing gently as you were both panting lightly in anticipation.

"Then make me feel better."

That was all you had to say before he kissed you with the hunger of a touch-starved man. He pulled you off the sink in one swift movement, holding you upright with your legs still wrapped around his waist, and walked out of the bathroom to where his bed was waiting for you both.

Finally, you thought. The tension between you these past few weeks had been torture. Seeing each other around HQ after your last encounter and not saying a word in passing was aggravating, and you had been longing for the moment when you could wrap your arms (and legs) around him again.

When his legs hit the side of the bed, he lowered you carefully down onto it. You still had your good arm wrapped around his shoulders, and when he placed you on the top of his bed, you hissed in pain and clung to his body. The edge of your stitched-up wound had touched the comforter, making it sting. 

"Maybe not like this," you said with a light chuckle.

A flash of concern crossed Miguel's face when he realized your pain, and he moved to roll off of you. Still holding yourself close to his body, you rolled with him and found yourself straddling his lap.

With a smirk, you hovered your face over his. "Much better," you stated smugly. Miguel was still assessing your face for any traces of discomfort. "Are you sure you're up for this?" He asked. You shot him a look. You would've thought he was trying to find a way out of it if it weren't for the fact that his fingers were unconsciously trying to move your hips against his hardening cock.

"I've been craving you for weeks," you whispered against his lips. "It would take more than this to keep me off of you." His face gave way to a smile at your words, a true smile that filled his whole face. Fuck, he looked so good. The way he lit up with you knocked the wind out of you, and you could've stayed there forever just admiring the beautiful smile he had before he raised his head to kiss you.

You leaned into him, growing hot with desire. Your suit, so attuned to what your body wanted, retracted all the way back to your web shooters. Miguel's hands traced across the skin of your torso as his tongue slid against yours, and his suit also disappeared from his body.

Feeling his skin against yours set your heart racing. His fingertips felt electric as his hands wandered up your back to unclasp your bra. Careful not to hit your new stitches, he removed it from your body, taking in the sight of your bare body with a lustful expression before lowering his head to take one of your breasts in his mouth.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he moved his mouth sloppily over your skin. Leaning into him, you ran a hand through his dark hair and grabbed fistfuls of the strands. You missed this, the feeling of him exploring your body. It was so much more than taking the edge off now. It was almost like a form of worship.

"Feeling better?" He murmured, tilting his head up to watch your enraptured expression. "Mhmm," you hummed, a lazy smile pulling at your lips. "But don't you dare stop."

Miguel smirked. "Wasn't planning on it," he replied in a low voice. As he spoke, his hands slid down your body and began pushing your underwear down over your ass. Leaning forward, you lifted your legs to allow his hands to remove your last piece of clothing.

You were breathing hard in anticipation now. You placed sloppy kisses on his chest, his neck, practically any of his tanned skin that you could reach. From his throat, the softest little moans sounded in response to your touch, and each fueled your desire. In your desperation, your teeth grazed his skin again.

His breath caught in his throat, and his fingers dug into your skin. You smirked, enjoying his reaction to your teasing. "You like that, don't you?" You observed slyly. Before you could give him the opportunity to respond, you bit down on the muscle at the base of his neck, not enough to be painful but enough to leave a mark.

He moaned loudly, an unrestrained sound that demonstrated the power you had over him. You released the skin between your teeth before moving them up his neck and biting him there, gentler than before. You were fairly certain he stopped breathing for a moment as you bit down on his soft skin. When the moment passed, you let go again, moving your mouth up and nipping his earlobe.

Miguel was practically paralyzed by your touch, and you could feel his heart racing wildly under your hand. He was completely at your mercy, unable to stop you even if he had wanted to.

But you knew he didn't want you to stop.

Still holding a fistful of his hair, you pulled firmly and tilted his head back to expose his neck to you. Letting his earlobe slip out of your teeth, you moved your mouth to his jaw, placing a kiss on the skin there before gently biting it.

He groaned your name. There was a desperate edge to his voice that made your cunt ache for him. When you moved your lips up to his, he kissed you with such fervor that it was less like he was kissing you and more like he was trying to devour you, like being completely pressed against you wasn't close enough.

"I need to...be inside you," he gasped, his lips still trying to kiss you as he spoke. He sounded as breathless as you felt, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, his eyes were hungry with his desire for you.

Maybe if it hadn't been so long since you'd been together, you would've prolonged the teasing, exacerbated his frustration, but you found that you were also desperate to feel him inside you. Every inch of your body burned for him, and you knew he burned for you, too.

Settling back down slowly on his lap, you allowed Miguel to guide your hips to his cock. Your forehead rested against his, and you gave a small gasp when you felt the tip tease at the entrance of your pussy. Giving Miguel another messy kiss, you lowered yourself down his length.

God, he felt good.

Your head lolled back as he stretched you out so perfectly for the first time in weeks. Miguel released a hot breath against the skin of your neck, his hands holding your hips tightly as he slid into your tight cunt.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. "I've missed this."

If you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would've pointed out it was his own damn fault for making the stupid rule in the first place. But right now, the only thing on your mind was that you needed to move your body against his.

Raising your hips up again, a loud groan spilled from your lips. You'd almost forgotten just how big he was. His cock was buried deep inside you, setting every nerve on fire. Every muscle in your body tightened with the feeling of his dick sliding out of you, and your hands, one still in his hair and the other holding onto his back, curled tightly as you clung to him.

You moved back down again, your eyes closed tightly with the sensations of riding him. Miguel's hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as you moved slowly up and down the length of his cock. His breathing was shaky, and so was yours. Neither of you said anything as you took the time to reacquaint yourselves with the feeling of each other's bodies.

You soon grew impatient with the slow pace you were keeping. You raised your hips off of his lap with greater need, grinding your pussy down hard against him as you did. Miguel's reaction was immediate, and you heard a growl deep in his throat. His hands encouraged your pace and eased some of the effort off of your knees.

The sound of your ass smacking against his lap filled the air, and combined with the sounds of his heavy panting, it only fueled your lust-crazed mind. Blinking open your eyes, you looked at Miguel and found that he was staring up at your face. A shimmer of sweat gleamed on his forehead, and his lips were parted as he breathed hard.

Your eyes locked with his dark gaze. Even as you continued to move along his length, you couldn't help but feel utterly paralyzed by his stare, so brazen and intentional, completely in awe of you. It made you feel powerful, revered.

Loved.

You managed to break out of your paralyzed stupor and crash your lips down on his. Now, you were the one who felt as though you couldn't be close enough to him. Even with his cock pumping in and out of you with ever-increasing speed, you wondered if there was anything that could satisfy your need for him.

Your pace was uncontrollable now. Small, whining moans escaped your mouth with every rise and fall of your hips. Miguel's fingers dug into your waist tightly, and he grunted as he pulled away from your lips.

"Wait," he gasped quietly.

Your eyes snapped open, and you froze. Was something wrong? Were you doing something he didn't like?

Miguel's face struggled to compose itself. "You need to slow down," he finally said. You stared at him for a second before you understood what was happening.

A wicked grin grew on your face. "Why?" You asked deviously. Miguel shot you a glare, his chest heaving. "You know why," he grunted. "Just slow down."

Still wearing your devilish smile, you started moving your hips again. "I don't want to," you told him, your words sounding almost childish as you choked back a whine. Miguel cursed under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought against the pleasure your cunt brought him.

"Wait, wait," he groaned again, trying to hold you still. Now, this was a power trip if you'd ever felt one. You knew you were only a few moments away from causing him to unravel. Now, he was begging you to ease up because he knew he couldn't last against you.

You grabbed his jaw in one hand, forcing his face to look up at you. "Why should I?" You demanded to know. He was panting hard, and his eyes seemed hazy and unfocused.

"I need to take care of you first," he managed to breathe. You huffed an amused breath. He never failed to get you off, and despite the fact that you were more than happy to finish him off in record timing, you were inclined to let him take over for you.

Miguel placed a soft kiss to your lips. "Let me take care of you," he pleaded in a whisper. "Let me taste you."

The thought alone of what he could do with his tongue was enough to make you moan. Instead of replying, you kissed him hard before lifting your hips up off of him entirely. You felt a twinge of regret from the loss of his cock inside you, but when he slowly rolled you over, the rush of anticipation quickly replaced it.

Miguel pulled you to the edge of the bed, careful not to cause your stitches to hit the comforter. With your good arm, you were propped up by your elbow while he slowly moved down your body. He placed tantalizing kisses on your throat, your collar, your breasts, your stomach, practically every inch of your body he could see. With every kiss, you felt like your body was slowly being set on fire, and you moaned impatiently as he slid off the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms under your thighs the way he loved to do.

When his mouth finally landed over your pussy, you nearly fell back against the bed. A cry of pleasure tore from your throat. The hand you weren't leaning on came up and grabbed his hair while you squirmed in his grip. His lips were sealed over your pussy. He was alternately sucking at your clit and circling it with his tongue. You struggled to breathe as he continued working at a careful pace.

"Miguel," you gasped, your thighs flexing beneath his hands.

Miguel moaned against you, his movements growing faster and faster. His head pressed firmly against you. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest as you tried to keep your arm from buckling. His tongue moved expertly against you, lapping hungrily at your swollen clit. You tugged at his hair as you tried moving under his arms, but his grip kept you in place.

Your head fell back with a long whine. You knew at the rate he was going that you weren't going to last long. He was all too familiar with the way your body worked, and he knew exactly where to focus his efforts to get you off.

Lifting your head up again, you blinked your eyes open to look down at him. Half of his face was blocked by your arm, so you released the hold you had on his hair, letting your hand trace the edge of his face. His dark eyes were gazing up at you intently, watching your every reaction.

Letting your hand fall away from his face, it rested on your thigh as you let out another high-pitched moan. Without stopping his tongue, Miguel released his grip on your leg and took your hand in his. You looked down at him and squeezed his hand while he continued swirling his tongue over your pussy.

"Don't stop," you panted, your stomach tensing from his movement. He tightened his grip in two quick pulses, and even though his mouth never left your cunt, you could practically hear the words he was thinking—I won't.

Your legs were shaking now, and you barely had the strength to keep yourself up off the bed. Pleasure was taking over your body and coiling at your stomach. Miguel knew you were close by the quickening of your breath and the tightening of your grip, his tongue maintaining its steady pressure.

Finally, with a loud cry, your body began trembling under his touch. You squeezed his hand hard as you came against his mouth. The feeling of ecstasy burned in every part of your body while you struggled to breathe from the pleasure that had now completely overwhelmed you.

Miguel eased his pace to lazy circles, his eyes alight with smug satisfaction. You writhed under his mouth, growing restless from the overstimulation you were beginning to feel. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, moving your hips to escape his warm tongue. He let you move away from his face, releasing his grip on your hand and thigh.

Miguel pushed himself off the ground and began crawling over your body. "See?" he said in satisfaction, sounding out of breath. "I'll always take care of you." You moaned again, still trying to recover from your high. "Careful O'Hara," you managed to say. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

He smirked down at you, his lips and chin glistening with your wetness. Pushing forward, his body forced yours down. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, clinging to him to keep from laying on the bed. "Not like this—my stitches," you whispered.

Miguel froze for a second before placing a hand behind your back to help you up. "How do you want it?" He asked quietly. You took a second and bit your lip as you considered the myriad of ways he could fuck you.

"Like before," you decided finally.

His subtle smile returned, and he rolled off of your body and onto the bed. Pulling yourself up, you straddled him again, though perhaps not so fast since you were still hazy from your orgasm. His hands guided you back down to where his cock was waiting for you.

Miguel rested his head on your good shoulder as you lowered yourself slowly back down on him. His hot breath fanned against your skin as he groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy around him. You let out a strangled gasp, feeling yourself stretch out again for him. You moved slowly, still halfway stuck in the stupor his mouth had left you in, and everything was still so sensitive for you.

Gradually, you began moving again. Miguel's arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing his body up against yours. His skin felt like fire—burning, consuming, enthralling. You rested your head against his as his strong arms helped lift you up and down his length.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted quietly against your cheek. "You don't understand...what you do to me." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder as he spoke. The movement of his cock inside you made it difficult for you to formulate a response, but you managed to choke out, "Tell me. Tell me what I do to you."

He groaned softly. "You drive me fucking crazy," he muttered. "I can never focus when you're with me—," he groaned again, "—but I can never stop thinking about you when you're not." His arms were moving you up and down faster as he spoke, and you could tell he was fucking out his frustration. "The way you smell," he continued breathlessly, "the way you feel, the way you look when you're cumming all over my cock."

You gasped sharply, the combination of his words and his increasingly desperate pace rendering you speechless. "I want to have you every second...of every day," he murmured in your ear. You were panting hard against his skin while his cock continued driving deep into your aching cunt.

"Then have me," you whispered so quietly that he wouldn't have heard it over the lewd sounds of your fucking if it hadn't been said directly in his ear. "Have me every day."

He groaned, and turning his face, he captured your lips in a kiss. The taste of your pussy still lingered on his mouth, and you moaned softly against his lips. Everything felt so good, and when you broke away from your kiss, you looked deep into Miguel’s eyes and whispered, “I’m yours.”

And just like that, Miguel's body tensed, and with a long moan against your skin, he came inside you. You stilled as he held you tightly against his body. Beside the sound of your heart beating furiously in your ears, there was only your heavy breathing to fill the silence between you.

You could've stayed like that forever, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your body, hearing his breath against your ear. Your body still buzzed with pleasure, and there was nothing in your mind except that cursed phrase you fought so hard to ignore, the one that whispered to you constantly in the back of your brain every time you looked at Miguel.

I love you.

Over and over, it echoed in your mind, begging to be spoken. You'd heard it nagging in your heart for a while now, and you had tried your best to ignore it. Even after weeks of next to no contact, your feelings hadn't wavered for him.

Now, as you sat there wrapped in each other's arms, you felt those words ringing louder than ever, and for one dreadful moment, you thought you might say it out loud.

No—no, you couldn't. A bolt of fear yanked the words off your tongue. You couldn't jeopardize this. It was too precious to you. Even if this was all you could have, the occasional fuck, sleeping together knowing that he would always have to leave for something more important than yourself—wasn't it better than nothing? Wasn't it better than before when you were all alone? Especially now that he admitted to feeling something real for you, you couldn't ruin it with those three words.

Miguel finally moved when he turned his head toward yours. Your noses brushed against each other for moment as you both gasped for breath before your lips pressed down on his. You moaned against him softly. Still holding your body to his, he leaned back against the bed, bringing you down with him so that you lay on his chest.

After your breathing began leveling out, you shifted, allowing his cock to pull out of you with a groan. You slid off his chest onto your good shoulder with your body still pressed against his. You lay there like that for a while in comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of each other's warm skin.

"It's been too long," Miguel sighed, finally breaking the silence. You smiled. "And whose fault is that?" You asked as you looked up at him. A small smile formed on his lips. "You were the one who swore you'd catch Ghost," he pointed out. "Is it my fault for believing you?"

You scoffed. "It's your fault for making that stupid rule in the first place," you argued. There was a quiet chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "It's called compromise, sweetheart," he said smoothly. "I can't let you have everything you want."

You tried to keep a straight face, but his snark caused your lips to quirk upward. "And why not?" You demanded to know, propping yourself up onto your elbow to look deep in his eyes.

Miguel looked at you with a subtle smile still adorning his face. "Because then everyone is going to complain about how I favor you over everyone else," he replied evenly. "And then, one by one, they'll all leave until it's just you and me."

You hummed thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound so bad," you said, settling back down next to him. "Just you and me against the multiverse."

He hummed as well. "Just you and me," he repeated, and in his voice, you could hear him imagining it, the two of you together across every universe.

You had imagined it before, too. You and Miguel, together, always, through everything. It was such a sweet dream, and yet the truth was the bitter chaser that always followed your longing—different dimensions, different lives. What future could you have together?

If Miguel was thinking the same thing, he didn't say it. He seemed content to just lay with you in silence while his fingers gently caressed your arm.

After a moment, you sighed. You could feel Miguel's head turn to look down at you in curiosity.

"You know, I meant what I said before," you told him softly.

"Hmm?"

"About being more than just a fling you can ignore outside of the bedroom," you explained.

"Ah."

You felt his head turn back up to stare at the ceiling, but his fingers still brushed against your skin. "I mean, is that what you still want?" You asked, lifting your gaze to look at his face. "Be honest."

There was a beat of silence before he quietly answered, "No."

You waited, hoping he would say more. He sounded almost reluctant in his reply, so you could tell there was more to it.

It was Miguel's turn to sigh. "I don't—I don't want this to be casual either," he began slowly. "I want it to be real, but I can't give up my work here. I won't. And one day, you'll hate me for not putting you first."

You scoffed lightly at those last words. "I could never hate you," you told him. There was a slight pause before he muttered, "Don't be so sure."

It could've been a joke, but the way he said it was so serious, it made you pause, and looking up at his face, you found there wasn't any traces of humor. You pushed yourself up a bit to face him better. His eyes moved back to you, and you held his stare for a moment.

"I could never hate you," you repeated in a soft, earnest whisper. Miguel didn't respond, he only watched you carefully before a tiny, sad smile pulled at his lips, looking as though he wanted to believe you.

"Careful," he murmured. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

You smirked at him and leaned in close. "I'll try my best not to," you said before closing the gap between your lips. He kissed you gently before pulling away to say, "And I'll try—about what you want, I'll try."

Your heart leapt, and there wasn't anything you could do to contain your smile. "Thank you," you whispered before kissing him again. You could feel him grinning against your lips, and his arms pulled you close. When you broke apart, you settled back down next to him.

"If they all start complaining though, I'm blaming you," he said. You chuckled. "Fair is fair," you replied. "If they don't like it, they can leave." He huffed in amusement. "Until it's just you and me?" He asked.

"Until it's just you and me."

[rhetusperiander]

Just watched Suzume today now that it's out on Netflix and I have a lot of thoughts about Souta and his story of grief and sacrifice that I haven't seen many other people talking about. Maybe because his suffering isn't always expressly stated but is more subtle? Idk. This is going to be long, a little all over the place, and spoilery.

Souta is so quick to help others but rarely does he ever look inwards. In the first scene of him and Suzume closing the door, he keeps telling her to turn back and leave. It doesn't matter that he can't do it alone, it just matters that she isn't in danger. And when the rocks start falling, he's quick to move Suzume out of the way, even if it means injuring his arm. Souta refuses to go to the hospital for his injuries. His grandfather is in the hospital but Souta refuses to go to the hospital for himself. Suzume has to push him into getting help for his wounds.

When Chika loses the oranges she's delivering, it's Souta that jumps into action to grab the net and help her. When Chika asks about it, Suzume says she just has quick reflexes to hide the fact that her magic Souta chair was the one to leap into action, but her saying that shows how instinctual running to help others is for Souta. At Chika's house, he literally spend the whole time facing the wall and speaking to no one. He does it to not draw attention to him (considering the whole magic chair situation), but just imagine that. He jumps to help this girl and is just as quick to sit in the corner alone.

This is also the point where he realizes he cannot eat. (This also feeds into how the movie beautifully uses food and eating together to connect others. From Suzume and Chicka bonding over eating oranges and dinner together, to Suzume's aunt checking on Suzume alone in the car saying that Suzume should eat something as she must be hungry. This is a whole other aspect of the movie that deserves its own analysis and I can't get into everything here, but I will touch on a little of it where it applies.) Earlier in the movie, Suzume offers food to Souta in his chair form and he says he's not hungry, later offering the food right back to her. Suzume on the boat was so concerned for him and how he must be hungry, but it wasn't until much later at Chika's house that Souta even thinks about himself and realizes he must not need to eat as a chair. As Chika and Suzume bond over dinner, Souta realizes that he is physically incapable of doing so.

At least, that is until later at Rumi's bar. In the car with Rumi's kids, Souta is with others again but remains silent. Talking would gain them too much attention and create a lot of questions, but fundamentally it disconnects Souta from those around him and makes him alone. Rumi's kids starts moving him and such but Souta will still not talk or move. It isn't until Rumi's kids are eating and placing food on him that he moves to make sure the kids don't drop anything. He can't act to make himself known but he can act to make sure these kids don't drop their food. He cannot eat, something so fundamental to humans/humanizing and important to forming connections within Suzume's story, and has to stay silent as these kids literally set food on top of him, almost like some kind of sick cosmic joke, but he will still make damn sure these kids don't drop a single bit of their food. Even when Rumi's child drops the food on purpose to test him, Souta moves to catch it. Souta only makes himself know later when Suzume is struggling to care for Rumi's kids. He sees Suzume struggling and goes against his desire to lay low so he can help her, even if that means he'll now be sat on, roughhoused, and yelled at. He wont make himself know for his own sake, but he will for others. At the dinner in Rumi's bar, Suzume makes sure to incorporate Souta in the meal. He can't eat, she makes sure he is still included. She does sit on him during this scene, which is all funny and meme-y, but I think this whole scene is a good juxtaposition to the prior meal scenes. In Chika's house he was left alone in a whole other room, and in the car he was treated as a table and tested, but here Suzume knows him fully and wants him to be included. This is especially shown at the end of the scene, where everyone at the bar dinner takes a photo together and Suzume holds Souta up into the photo.

At the fairground, Souta stops pressing Daijin for answers to save Suzume and help her close the door.

It isn't until what I would say is about the third act that we start truly learning more about who Souta is. Sure, we've know he's a closer, but for a lot of the movie we're never really told much about his life. It isn't until late in the movie that we're told "oh, yeah, btw I have my own apartment in Tokyo and a dream of being a teacher that I've had to neglect for now." This man just will not make any aspect of himself know until it becomes relevant and necessary.

It is also in this part that we see more of his interpersonal relationships. Suzume and him are in similar family situations. Suzume has her aunt and Souta has his grandfather. We know more about Suzume's family history but Souta's is more ambiguous. Souta has a close friend in Serizawa. We know that they're actually close. In his introduction scene he says that he stopped by Souta's place because he was so concerned about Souta missing his test that it made him also fail his test, but in the same intro Serizawa then deflects by saying he actually only stopped by Souta's place because Souta owes him money. We know Serizawa cares, and his care is only further showed by how far he'll go to find Souta, but does Souta know? Between this and how Souta responds to how the downstairs grocery clerks talked about him, Souta seems to me like a guy who genuinely doesn't know that people care about and think about him. And maybe it's just a translation thing, but isn't it weird the very first thing Souta's grandfather brings up is Souta's failure. What a strange word to default to, "failure."

Keep in mind, this whole time, Souta is a chair. He is the chair that Suzume's mother made for Suzume. This whole adventure he takes the form of an object that is the physical representation of *someone else's trauma*. He is quick to help others, even at the expanse of himself. He spends his time and risks his health to be a closer, saving everyone from harms way for nothing in return. A task he is ready and willing to do alone. He is fundamentally so alone, yet cares so much for others. The whole story he lives, dies, and is bound to spend centuries as a keystone in a form not his own, but a form relating to someone else's grief.

His grandfather calls him a sacrifice and says going back for him would disrespect the sacrifice Souta made, but isn't Souta more than that? More that just a sacrifice for others? Suzume is willing to believe so. She tends his wounds and gets him food not even considering if he can eat, just that he might be hungry. She is so kind, considerate, and makes so many sacrifices and takes so many risks for others too. She is willing to travel so far to bring him back to life. When she pulls him back to life, she pulls him back as he truly is, his own person in his own form.

They both wanted to die, now they both want to live.

Like I said at the very start, I feel like a lot of Souta's story of grief and pain is kept more subtle and implied instead of directly stated. It's shown in how much he is willing to do for others and not for himself.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hi I hope you can you do a yandere mermaid parents gambit and rogue x child reader.

Aaaaawwww! Okay, I'll see what I can do! Let's do it, but as headcanons-

• Rogue and Gambit as mers would be rather colorful. Bright tails, shiny scales, and they barely wear much besides what is colorful or pretty and covers the important parts, as mers don't need to really wear much clothes... Now, give them a kid, mer or human, and they're over the moon-

• Gambit as a parent is gentle, but also pretty fun. He loves showing Reader new things, showing them little tricks and magic, and catching food for them. He can be protective, but is mostly laidback. What does he have to fear? His petit is safe, chere loves them, and only a fool would take what's Gambit's or his mate's... But if anyone were enough of an fool to do so, they'd be met with sharp claws and a hypnotic voice dragging them under to their doom...

• Rogue as a parent would be very loving. Doting, even. She gets to have a kid, a child, one she can call her's, and they won't ever have to leave (not for many many decades at least; mers age rather slowly)... She can show them how to swim, she can play with them, and she can hug them as much as they (and she) want! Plus her mate also likes them, so of course that means they're keeping their little guppy. If anyone tried to hurt them, a human or shark or other mer, she'd shred 'em to pieces! There wouldn't be anything but chum left of 'em if they hurt her baby, and she'd let them know how much she despised them the entire time she's killing them off...

• Those two would be gifting Reader so many different things: bits of broken coral, different kinds of shells, various shards of sea glass, necklaces of seaweed and pearls... Even sunken treasure, such as ages-old mirrors or sand-covered coins or little gems plucked from old jewelry... And they'd want Reader to wear it, or have it with them, at all times. They realize they can't always have every thing they gift on them, but they appreciate it when Reader at least wears one pearl necklace or has a piece of sea glass with them. It makes them feel warm and gooey inside, knowing their kid likes their presents...

• If Reader was a human, they likely met the two by accident, possibly helping them after they got caught on a net against the rocks of the beach, or maybe Reader heard them at night and went to investigate. Either way, a child no older than nine and no younger than four is now visiting them, and they don't know what to do. Do they keep them? Do they send them home? Do they tell anyone about them?

• They figure it out when Reader one day says they have to go, and won't be coming back for awhile, and the two realize they're attached to their little human child. This is THEIR kid, not some random humans' who can't watch them for five minutes! THEY are the ones who have been keeping an eye on Reader. THEY are the ones who keep playing with them and singing them to sleep when they're tired. THEY have kept grimy, horrible people away from them, so their kid is safe when they go along the shore! So Reader is THEIR'S, NO ONE ELSE'S!

• It doesn't take long for Rogue to ask Reader to play in the water with her, nor for Gambit to tire them out, swimming circles around them... And it doesn't take much longer to lull their little guppy to sleep, a hypnotic song echoing across the waves... Their kid doesn't need to worry or wake up right now... They can relax in their Mama and Papa's arms, like a little otter clinging to its mama... Just relax and let the waves rock them gently to sleep...

• If Reader was a mer, they were likely an egg or guppy laid/born to the two. And as Reader is their only kid, Rogue and Gambit are very protective of them. They don't let Reader go anywhere without one of them, and Reader isn't allowed to leave their sight (unless it's hide-and-seek, but usually one of them will just hide with Reader, then)...

• Both like to show off to their guppy, be it by finding the largest pearl, hunting the funniest-looking fish, or showing off their strength and skills. Neither one wants to let Reader down, and neither one of them wants to lose to the other, either (but they wouldn't mind, as long as their mate and their little guppy are happy). Those two hope Reader inherits some of their traits, be it their eye color or scale patterns or possible magic...

• If Reader got hurt, those two would go from worried to mad to murderous. Anything that harms their guppy, their little one, is torn apart. It doesn't matter if it's a human or mer, they'll rip it into pieces and have it for dinner if it laid a finger on Reader. And if Reader ever got lost, both of them are sending out long, echoing clicks and wails, trying to contact their missing baby. If all else fails, they get Uncle Wolverine to help track their kid down, and then they're hugging them, not letting ghem leave their nest for days...

• So it doesn't matter if Reader is a human or mer, because Rogue and Gambit will love them either way. But as a human they're limited to what they can and can't do, having to rely more heavily on them, while as a mer, they at least have a wider world to explore...

[reason-with-the-underdog]

haikavetham & childhood finances, pt 2

(analysis of alhaitham's & kaveh's attitudes towards money, with a focus on kaveh since more of his character story is about financial struggles)

part 1 here

to recap, i'm outlining aspects of kaveh's current financial mindset that make sense if he knowingly experienced poverty as an adolescent

4. his belief in mutual aid

Kaveh’s expresses a belief in mutual aid (& shows it by giving money to unemployed shipwrights + referring them for a job)

basically mutual aid acts like an unofficial social safety net for poor folks. Pay it forward, be generous within your community, etc... do a favor for your neighbor and they might help you back, that kinda thing

It’s a mixed bag research-wise on if poor people are more generous than rich people

but anecdotally, i've seen many ppl saying that their experiences w poverty made them not care if they were getting scammed by a homeless person, the risk of not helping was much worse.

like yea that’s kaveh

5. inability to ask for help

Ok i admit this one’s pretty complicated and definitely wrapped up in kaveh’s own guilt complex

however an inability to ask for/accept help and gifts is definitely a character trait that many people who experienced poverty as children can relate to

6. couponing/discount-shopping but not buying in bulk

This one’s more a sidenote than “evidence”

Kaveh’s famous locally for being able to catch when high-quality wine gets discounted by 90%

buying in bulk has higher up-front costs even if the per-unit cost is cheaper, so it’s more of a middle-class habit (rich people don’t necessarily care, and poor ppl can’t afford it)

so onto the counter(?) evidence!

His teapot dialogue at first glance seems to have him talking about his bankruptcy and how it shocked him as an otherwise financially privileged and idealistic/naive student. But i dont think it necessarily contradicts my headcanon here

His teapot dialogue talks about abject poverty in relation to his bankruptcy period (living at lambad’s)

This makes sense to me bc homelessness is a uniquely harrowing experience& idt he’d consider childhood financial insecurity as “abject poverty” (again they always had a house)

+ he naturally has the desire to minimise any problems his mother had as a single parent

And being poor as a kid doesn’t mean he couldn’t still have strong ideals/pride as a student (and still does have as an adult)

Ok so that’s my case for why i think kaveh experienced being “cash poor” as a kid

Why am i so invested in this hc?

Beyond it explaining a lot of his financial habits/helplessness, it also makes for fun comparisons to Alhaitham!

Alhaitham is very much set up as a middle-class saver and spender. I think there’s a case to be made for him lacking insight into the struggles of the poor in a "hidden blindspots" middle-class kinda way

(the whole “free healthcare” comment vs dori’s backstory about her sister dying from being unable to afford healthcare, kaveh believing in the reality of kids in sumeru starving, etc)

here he gave decent advice (their skills are obsolete, they need to transition to more relevant industries/skills)

but at the same time… he’s asking them to leave their families behind for possibly months while they’re at sea, to invest a lot of up-front money for training, etc

ppl who grow up privileged (middle class/rich bg) tend to have those "blind spots"

good well-intentioned advice, but maybe not understanding that it may not be practical

Real life examples might be like “young and unemployed? Join the army” or “stop buying lattes/avocado toast”

(ok the latter advice may not be well-intentioned, but a lot of the rich folks saying “stop buying X” do seem to genuinely believe their words... but the problem is that if your debt is massive or buying a house is forever away, saving a teensy bit over time isn't going to fix things really)

if kaveh is set up as having experienced living as low-income, it makes sense why he’s more sympathetic to the craftsmans’ concerns and gives them what they’re actually asking for

(money for short-term needs & gigs to gain more mots asap w/o having to completely switch industries)

Anyways that’s my very long-winded soapbox. Hope this gave some food for thought on the implications the potential years of grieving faranak not working or being underemployed have for kaveh's childhood!

As a final parting shot, here’s dori in a nutshell

dori's interesting, she's more like kaveh's foil than alhaitham is (alhaitham being his mirror and sharing similar values/goals, just having different ideas and approaches to getting there)

in conclusion: there's a reason why so many thought kaveh's bg was underprivileged pre-lore drop. so many of his behaviors & ideals align with that sort of upbringing

reposted with permission, ty river!

[biffhofosho]

Hot Girls _____ | Chapter Two

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: I've had this done for days. Life is so mean not to give me the time to publish. :( Please enjoy!

Cvr | 01 | 02

It was late afternoon by the time the pair arrived at Gossamer, a boutique store in Gastown that Vi had found online. It was far hipper than any place she had ever shopped, and she would have found it too intimidating to enter if her best friend hadn’t been at her side, hands in his pockets and shrewd eyebrows up.

Everything inside was pink or black—pink walls, black racks, pink chandeliers, black couches. One wall was studded with pink neon signs with sassy sayings like “Bad Bitch” and “Flex on Your Ex” and, below them, they featured full-length mirrors and sample outfits. The racks were color-coordinated and tarted up with nothing but dresses and bodysuits, each one chicer and more daring than the last.

It was exactly the right vibe. Unfortunately, Vi brought the world’s pickiest critic.

“I know it's your personality,” grumbled Changkyun from his chair across from her dressing stall, “but would you please quit trying to floor it? Go the speed limit for once.”

Vi scowled, knuckles whitening as she gripped the hem of the current dress’s miniskirt. “What’s wrong with this one now?”

He tilted his head, his temple resting on his fist as he propped up his arm on the bolster. His tongue raced over his teeth behind his lips before he let out a slow breath. “You don’t have to show a ton of skin to be hot, Viola. I mean, okay, sure, it doesn’t hurt, but what you really have to show is confidence. I need you to start thinking about this like a fisherman.”

“Like a fisherman! What the hell does that mean? You want me in a slicker and boots?”

After twenty minutes of shooting down every damn look, Changkyun rose from his chair and approached her. Vi got the uneasy feeling that she wasn’t a fisherman at all but the bait for the sharks as he circled her, hands in his jean pockets. He sized up the gaudy royal blue chainmail fabric, the too-low cowl neck, mirrored thigh slits, and, finally, her exposed back, but his face revealed nothing as usual.

“Think about it,” he said in his low gravel. “You need the right gear for your intended catch, but you have to know what you're fishing for. This dress is a net, Viola. It's going to pull in everything, including the stuff nobody wants.”

Her best friend’s aura was always intense, but right now, his condescension took over. Viola’s bare back bristled. “What are you talking about? I saw this exact dress on a girl you took home.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay, maybe, but the one thing she had that you lack is experience.”

“Low blow, man,” Vi pouted and stacked her arms across her chest.

“I'm not talking about sex even though you're the one who said as much the other night,” he pointed out. “I'm talking about one-night stands. She knew how to pick out the bites she'd like best and throw back the ones that would disappoint or, more importantly, be dangerous. You haven’t learned those things yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you’re just giving yourself a backhanded compliment.”

“Viola.”

Changkyun’s stern voice penetrated the quiet salon’s air. Her hands fell limply to her side at once.

He narrowed his eyes. “You get my meaning now?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Look, we can work our way up to this. Remember what I said. Baby steps. You don't think this was the dress that girl chose for the first time out, do you?”

“How should I know?”

“Exactly,” he said with a pleased smile. Suddenly, Changkyun turned and as he walked back to his chair, he said, “Don't get me wrong, you look incredibly hot in it.”

“Really?”

He smiled at her again, but this time, there was something different in it, and once again, Vi was reminded of that shark. “Absolutely, and if you weren't my best friend, I would one-million-percent approach you in the club, but I would be one of a hundred guys, and most of them won't see you in the dress. They'll see an opportunity—a checkbox. So until you learn how to spot the users, we’ll find you something that will make you feel hot and secure. Besides, a little mystery is good.”

“Hasn’t worked for me the last 25 years,” she quipped.

“No offense, Viola, but you are charmingly easy to read.”

“Well, I don’t like keeping secrets…”

Changkyun pressed his lips together. After a moment, he nodded. “I know. I know. But I’m not talking about keeping secrets. We’re just talking about one-night stands, right?”

“Right.”

“So you don’t need to know everything about each other. Maybe you won’t even know each other’s names. Does that bother you?”

“N-no.”

“You don’t like secrets, remember, and I won’t let you have them with me for this to work. You know that.”

Changkyun was right—this dress exposed far too much, but Vi had nowhere to retreat except behind her crossed arms. She chewed her bottom lip before she answered again, “Yeah, I know. I’m really fine with it. I guess it just hits different when you say it.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just know you can back out at any time if you need to.”

She huffed. “Is that what this is? Are you trying to make me back out of this?”

“As if I could.”

“Good,” she said, her arms at last dropping to her sides, her chest thrust out as proudly as her chin. “Because I’m not going to back down. I’m going to take this all the way.”

“Then I’ll stay by your side like I promised.”

Something about the way his chocolate eyes met hers made Vi’s heart shift in her chest. She glanced at her sandaled feet as she replied, “I know. Thanks, Kyun.”

Changkyun sighed and rubbed his palms along the armrests. “Okay, then let’s get you into something else. You need something that makes you feel hot while looking mysterious.”

She scoffed. “This is way more strategy than I thought. Fine. You pick something out for me.”

Her friend nearly did a double-take. “What?”

“You don't like anything that I've picked, so why don't you pick something? Just remember what I'm going for here. Not something I might have worn before but something I need to wear now.”

“Viola—”

“We’ll be here for another three hours if you don’t,” she warned.

With a sigh, he stood up and paced the racks, his calm eyes scanning a rainbow of mini dresses. After several minutes, he came back to the dressing room, a perfectly blank expression on his face.

“One dress? Really?” she said with an eyebrow popped.

“The dress,” he corrected.

“Cocky.” Vi was about to head into the room when she furrowed her brow. “Kyun, this is something my grandmother would wear.”

“You know I know Grandma Viv, and I love her, but nobody wants to see her in this dress.”

“Hey!” Changkyun stared at her and, finally, Vi relented. “Fine, maybe not, but come on, this is like a parka compared to what I picked.”

“And your point?”

She scowled. “I’m trying to get laid, remember? I’d wear something like this to a wedding.”

“First of all, you would not. I’ve been your date to a dozen weddings by now, and I’ve never seen you wear something like this. Second, this dress will one hundred percent get you laid. I guarantee it.”

Vi turned her gaze back down to the tangerine number in her hands. It was the same stretchy bodycon material as many of the things she’d tried on, but apart from a halter neck and some satiny ribbons at the back tie, it looked about as plain as something in this store could get. She looked back at her friend dubiously, but Changkyun was unrepentant as he returned to his chair and sat down for what he clearly considered the last outfit of their fashion show.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” she said.

“I am. Look, the color will make your skin tone shine, and the cut will flaunt your assets.”

“Which are?” she prodded with a cheeky smile.

“Your assets, Viola,” he repeated stubbornly, but his eyes slid to her curvaceous hips and thighs, and she grinned, victorious.

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it, but I still think it’s a little boring. There’s no cleavage at all, and there’s a freaking bow at the back. I’m trying to get away from cutesy, remember?”

Changkyun folded his arms in a way that smacked all too hard of an unswerving CEO. “I promise you, you will look anything but cute in it.”

“I’d better.”

“Put it on, Viola,” he ordered, and it made her mouth go dry.

She retreated behind the saloon door and reluctantly swapped her “open 24/7” dress for what she was convinced would be more “help wanted”, but after she’d shimmied the vibrant fabric over her full thighs and fuller hips and then tied the bow behind her neck, she turned toward the mirror and her jaw dropped.

Damnit. He was right.

She looked hot. She looked damn hot.

The orange did amplify the exotic warmth of her skin and, like a buttercup beneath the chin, reflected attention to her face. A little notch on the skirt she hadn’t noticed before gave a sultry window to more thigh, and though there wasn’t cleavage on display, the snug of the dress across the curves of her chest was just as provocative.

She pivoted and glanced over her shoulder to find her ass looked just as round as a tangerine itself, and her back was far more exposed than she expected, allowing the halter ribbons to sway tantalizingly against the bare flesh there.

Vi smiled at herself, once in triumph before she tested out a few other versions that ran the gamut between coy, seductive, and hungry—or perhaps they all looked the same. She’d have to practice a bit more before she was confident she was nailing the hot girl vibe.

Finally ready, she swung open the door.

“That’s the one,” her best friend said, those cat-like eyes thin and stealthy as he regarded her from his seat.

“You think?”

Before Vi could step out of the changing room, Changkyun was out of his seat and in the dressing room beside her, the door swinging shut behind him. Trapped in such a small space with her best friend made things… weird. Through the thin fabric, should could feel his body heat, and it carried with it notes of leather and vanilla. She had spent much of her life by his side, but she swore she’d never smelled his skin so clearly.

“Do you love it?” he asked.

Vi bit her lip and nodded sheepishly. “I love it.”

“Mm.”

He surprised her by grabbing her bare shoulders and whirling her around so she faced the mirror, him behind her. His sharp chin hovered near the crook of her neck as Changkyun continued, “Do me a favor.”

“Uh, okay?” she hedged.

“Close your eyes and picture the man you want to fuck.”

Her head whipped back as she readied to argue with him, and she realized too late that it all nearly ended in disaster. With his face so close, only a piece of paper could have fit in the space between their lips. Vi recoiled. He did not.

“Im Changkyun!” she scolded as she hurried to return her attention to the mirror.

“You said you’d listen to me,” he reminded matter-of-factly, and her temper evened out.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” She was all too happy to close her eyes now anyway.

“Picture him,” he said lowly. “Everything about him. Not just his looks but the kind of lover you need him to be.”

Resentfully, Vi squeezed her eyes shut. It took much longer than she expected considering she’d been fantasizing about this exact thing night after night for months, but she blamed it on Changkyun’s use of the word “lover.” Finally, though, the haze of her mind began to solidify into a silhouette. The shadow man moved closer, and though she couldn’t make out any of his features, his body began to take shape. Lean, defined, strong. There were tattoos there, though nothing specific besides the fact that there was a sheen of sweat glazing all of them from the hard work he’d been putting in to please her. His movements were confident and intentional from plenty of expertise.

A sliver of light illuminated a pair of lips. Soft. Delicious. The bow just a bit sharp to hint at how wicked they could be but the bottom fuller and smoother with the promise of the sweetest finish.

Vi licked her own lips.

“Good,” hummed Changkyun, and the ice water of reality washed away her fantasy.

“What’s the point of all this, Kyun?” she said both exasperated and desperately eager to move on.

“I want you to see how a dress like this will do more for you than those other ones from before.”

“Okay, but why?”

“When you know what you want and how to get it, you won’t settle for less. Dress for the fuck you want.”

Vi scrunched her nose. “You wouldn’t think it to look at you, but you also go from zero to eleven real quick, man.”

“You have no idea.”

Now she was scrunching her eyebrows.

“See,” Changkyun continued, directing her gaze back to herself in the mirror, “no man’s going to miss this dress even in a crowded club. Everyone knows how sweet a tangerine is, and they’re going to want a piece.”

“Man, you silver-tongued—” Vi cut herself off with a shake of her head. “Okay, yeah. Fine. I’m feeling you now.”

“Good because that dream man you just pictured? This is how you reel him in. There’s no shortage of selfish, lazy fucks out there, but you need a man who understands and appreciates a woman’s body. A dress like this will make him appreciate it. It’s a tease. He’ll have that sweet first taste, and he’ll find himself imagining what more is waiting for him. See the way it cinches your waist? It’s inviting hands to grab right here.”

His hands hovered at the first swell of her hips. Through the fabric, Vi could feel his residual heat like a steam from a mug, but Changkyun kept his distance, and after a moment, they fell back to his side.

“So, you’ve changed your mind about this dress?” he said with a smirk.

“You were right,” she admitted sulkily.

“Mm. And you were worried you’d only be cute… See, with the bow, now you’re something special to unwrap,” he said as he swung her around again, back to the mirror, his fingertips glancing across the tails of the ribbons and, inadvertently, her spine, “but if he’s too desperate to manage that, it’s a short detour to pleasure no matter where you end up.”

Vi imagined for a split second that her best friend’s fingertip had grazed the back of her thigh where the hem hugged beneath her ass, but she knew that had to be a byproduct of the image he’d painted. After all, Changkyun had always been good with words, especially for the kind of sultry music he wrote.

“So we’re done here?” he prompted.

“Yeah, teach.”

“Perfect. Now, take it off.”

It wasn't like the order he had given her to put it on. This—this was quiet… breathy…

Eager.

But when he spoke again, he added flippantly, “I want to get going.”

Vi crashed back down to earth like a payload of bricks. “Fine, then get out.”

She shoved her friend bodily through the door and let out a heavy breath the second she had the space back to herself. She hadn’t realized how heavy and close the air was until she was alone again.

Fast as she could, Vi dressed back in her shorts and oversized hoodie and returned with the orange dress on her arm.

“Okay, okay, we’re done,” she said.

“Actually, not just yet,” corrected Changkyun.

She popped a lush eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t even want to do this part. What else is there?”

He hummed. “I want you to start thinking 4D.”

“As in ‘four dicks’?”

“Jesus, Viola. I mean dimensions. Four dimensions.”

“Well, I don’t know! After all that ‘dream lover’ talk or whatever, I wasn’t sure what channel we were on.”

“Your dream fuckboy has four dicks?” Changkyun asked with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up. I’m eager, but I’m not that greedy. What the hell does four dimensions mean anyway?”

“There's a beauty store around the corner. I'll show you.”

Vi bought the dress, both associates eyeing her and her friend suspiciously, and the realization that they assumed something had happened in the changing room made her wince, but if Changkyun noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.

He took her bag and headed out the front door with her in tow. Her best friend was rarely chatty—usually he left the course of conversation up to her—but Vi had run out of things to talk about. Though it had always been the point of this mission, her mind was fixed on the fantasy Changkyun had ruthlessly conjured, and she couldn't unstick it.

She was so busy riding that sweaty, shadowy tattooed man that she ran right into her best friend's back as he stopped.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Sorry. Daydreaming.”

He studied her for a second before he shifted his attention to the sleek display featuring a rainbow of bottles in the window. “We're here.”

“Hey, this place is fancy,” Vi observed as she looked up at the black-and-white Parisian awning over a gilded double door. “How did you know about it?”

“I buy my cologne here. Here's your next lesson: if you want to be a lure, make yourself a sensory experience.”

“A sensory experience? And you call me a nerd.”

“That means it’s not just visuals, Viola. Your smell, your skin, your—” Changkyun stopped. His lips mashed together as he considered, but after a rough swallow, he continued, “—your taste… this is what will ensure you have the best time because he’ll work harder for you because he’ll want to.”

Vi quirked a brow. “Damn, Kyun. Sometimes it sucks that you're my best friend.”

“It does?”

“Hell yeah. Otherwise, I’d be all over you.”

While Vi fiddled with a few bottles, Changkyun watched her. After a minute, he blurted, “Viola—”

“Can I help you two find anything?” An elegant blonde woman sidled up behind them with a polished smile that twisted into something much more seductive when her eyes caught Changkyun’s face. “Oh, it’s you. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. How are you?”

He nodded and gave the other woman a polite smile. “Good, thanks. We’re all good.”

The associate’s smile faltered as she glanced to his companion before she echoed his polite nod and retreated behind the register.

Vi leaned up to her friend's ear and whispered, “Do I spy the next Mrs. One-night-only? Am I going to get to study the master in the wild up close? Ooh, I feel like Steve Irwin.”

“You know my rules,” he replied as he picked up a bottle and idly sniffed it.

Oh yeah, she thought. No familiar faces. No sleepovers. No repeats. How could she forget, especially after her disastrous go at Henry?

Changkyun had a lot of rules for his personal life and perfectly logical reasons for most of them. He wasn't shy about sharing them either. In fact, he laid them out for every woman he'd been with so there were fewer misunderstandings when their time was up. The only thing he refused to explain was why Vi had never seen him with a girlfriend—their entire lives. She had probed plenty of times, but the only thing he'd ever said on the matter was “There's no point.”

Unsatisfied, Vi said, “What if you ran into her at a club first and then saw her here?”

“If I did, you know I’d have to stop using this store.”

“Man, Kyun, I forget how strict you can be sometimes. Am I expected to do that, too?”

“These my rules, Viola. I don’t expect you to follow them the way I do, but you should consider some of your own. If you want to stay unattached, you need rules and the determination to stick to them.”

“You’re right. But I’m not letting some guy run me out of a store I like.”

Changkyun hummed. “That’s my girl.”

Vi returned her attention to the shelves and, more specifically, the price tags underneath. “Oh, man, these are expensive.”

“Real perfumes are,” he replied. “Don’t worry about it just yet, okay?”

“Guess my Vicki Secrets Honeysuckle Apricot body mist isn't cutting it anymore. What's wrong with my signature scent?”

“Nothing,” he assured. “It's perfect for making a man fall in love with you, but that's not what we're going for, is it?”

“Falling in love? Hell no.”

Changkyun smiled that special tight smile, the one that always told her he was holding something back, but it also meant that even if Vi asked, he wasn't going to tell her what it was.

Instead, she directed her attention to the array of glass bottles spaced far enough apart that it drew the eye one by one. Each bottle was an experience, though she expected that came with the price tag. Some were faceted like jewels and others were shaped elaborately like high heels or hearts or even hot air balloons. “Okay, so what is my cheap ass looking at here?”

“Think of the bottles the same way you thought of your clothing,” said Changkyun. “They give you a hint of what’s inside. Dark and seductive. Bright and lively. Deep and powerful. Let your eyes guide you the same as they will in a club.”

Vi looked up and down the rows where four bottles caught her attention. She wanted to grab the quirkier sculpture bottles, but she remembered her best friend’s lessons from the dress shop, and she decided she needed to think more sophisticated. She went for bottles of ruby and sapphire, black and gold, and she lined them up in front of her.

“Okay, now what?” she asked.

Changkyun appraised her choices, though his face didn’t reveal whether she’d done a good job or not. He reached down the line to little cotton strips propped up in a dish and grabbed several. He chose the ruby bottle first and brought the nozzle close to the strip as he said, “We'll spray them on some paper first to see if you like them.”

A quick spritz and then a brief fan of the paper in the air, and he offered it to Vi. Before it even got to her nose, she scowled.

“I don’t like it,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Ugh, it stinks?”

Changkyun shook his head. “No, what’s the note that you don’t like?”

“Kyun, I live my life in fruity body sprays. What do I know about this?”

He glowered at her. “Too flowery? Too powdery? Too masculine?”

“No. It smells like an old lady.”

Changkyun brought the paper to his nose now and breathed. His eyes rolled back as he considered before he said, “Mm, hints of iris and amber and definitely some rose. You’re right, it’s not the scent for you.”

It was Vi’s turn to glower at her friend. “You know, you really know how to flex without looking like it.”

They tried the sapphire bottle next, but this time Vi was clear on why she didn’t like it.

“Too flowery,” she blurted as she recoiled and rubbed her nose.

Changkyun smiled. “You’re a quick learner.”

Unfortunately, neither of the next two bottles were a fit either, and Vi was startling to feel a little defeated. If the goal was for her to be able to make the right picks to reel in the right guys, she was failing miserably, first at the clothing and now at the scents. All her planning showed how little she really knew about the waters into which she was trying to dip a toe.

“You’re doing fine, Viola,” Kyun said, reading her instantly. “It’s not a test. It’s a new experience. You can’t get it wrong. You can just learn from it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Her best friend studied her furrowed brow and, when she didn’t shake herself out of her funk, he suggested, “How about this? I’ll pick three scents that I think might suit you, and you tell me what you think.”

At this, Vi perked up. Curiosity overwhelmed her as she wondered how Changkyun could possibly sum her up in a fragrance. Only he would propose such a thing.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “Bring it on.”

He nodded and headed down the row and then another and, in a blink, came back with three bottles as though he knew exactly which ones to grab.

She squinted at him. “That didn’t take very long.”

“Just try them,” he said dismissively.

Vi stared at him a minute longer, but he wasn’t budging and her curiosity was only increasing. She crinkled her broad nose and relented.

The first bottle was shaped like a poison apple, and after a quick spritz, her eyebrows raised. “Okay… Yeah, I actually like this one. It’s got some fruity notes. You know I like those.”

“I do,” Changkyun said with a smile.

“What is that I’m smelling? It’s sweet.”

“Vanilla. That’s a favorite scent for a lot of men.”

Vi bit her lip. “Tasty. I dig that.”

“Leave the paper there for a minute while you try the next. It’ll give the scent a little time to unfold. A good perfume changes over time.”

“Damn, okay, Mr. Nose. I’ll come back. Now, what’s this one?” She picked up a much less dramatic rectangular bottle in a translucent cherry red. It wasn’t one she would have picked up herself, but on first spray, the burst of cherry and almond hit her immediately, and she hurried for a second whiff. “Oh, this one smells delicious! But it’s not like my usual fruity stuff.”

Changkyun nodded. “This one’s darker. That’s the liquor in it.”

“Ooh, yeah? I like that. The guys will want to take a bite.”

Her friend didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Another whiff of the paper, and this one had definitely moved to the top of the list for now.

“Give it another minute,” he said and reached for a bowl of coffee beans sitting nearby. “Smell this.”

Vi popped an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It resets the nose. It’s easy to get the smells confused after a while.”

She shrugged and huffed the beans only to find it didn’t smell nearly as strong as she expected, but on second sniff, the coffee scent came through clearer.

“Ready?” Changkyun asked, and she nodded.

The last bottle he’d chosen was shaped like a diamond laying on its side. The black bow and smoky liquid inside gave Vi speakeasy vibes, and something about her drew her in from first sight. She sprayed a fresh paper strip, but she could smell it before she even brought it to her nose.

“Wow. Okay, wow.”

In a rare flash of brightness, Changkyun leaned forward and beamed from ear to ear. “You like it?”

“A lot! Definitely feels like nighttime. Maybe it’s ‘cause of the coffee beans, but I smell coffee in there somewhere. And there’s lots of fruits, too. And flower? Rose maybe? Okay, I don’t know what I’m talking about, but it’s super sexy.”

“Mm. If you want to know if it's a good match, you have to apply it to your skin though,” he said. “Fragrances wear differently on skin. It may smell good on paper, but there’s only one way to know if it will smell the same on you.”

Her friend grabbed her wrist and lifted it up, turning it over in his hand so the back of hers rested in the palm of his, his tan fingers curling around her toffee skin. Changkyun grabbed the bottle, the sultry liquid sloshing inside the glass facets, and he spritzed briefly across her pulse point.

“Give it a minute to dry down,” he instructed.

The first few seconds ticked by quickly, but somehow the next ticked by slower and slower, as though time itself had been trapped in molasses. Maybe it was because she was eager to smell her skin. Maybe it was because Changkyun was still cradling her hand and he’d never done such a thing before, and it was new.

In fact, today, things just felt a little weird between them. Most likely, it was the strain of their mentor/mentee relationship. They’d never had a dynamic like that before; not to mention, Vi had been out of school for several years now, so she hadn’t really planned for assignments and exams and, well, obvious failures of both this late in her life. It was more stress than she’d anticipated, even if her mentor was the person she trusted most.

But Changkyun remained just as unbothered as he usually looked. When he judged the time right, he raised her wrist to his nose and inhaled. Vi waited for him to comment, but he said nothing. Instead, he pushed her hand back toward her and said, “Here. What do you think?”

He guided her wrist to her nose this time, and she breathed in deeply, once, then twice. She closed her eyes and breathed in a third time.

Suddenly, she wasn’t in a store at all, but a crowded club. Strobe lights winked, skirts rolled up thighs, steam wafted off rolling bodies. It was intense, warm, and incredibly intimate all at once.

“Mm,” she murmured, “there’s the fruit and the rose again, but there’s something deeper. Reminds me of something from college. Incense, maybe?”

He hummed. “Patchouli I’d guess, yeah. I’m getting a lot of creamy caramel, too.”

Something about the way he said it made Vi’s brain flatline same as it had in the changing room when he was coaching her. This was the hardest she’d worked on anything since college. No wonder she was stressed out.

She sniffed her skin again and scowled. “You think it's a little strong for me?”

Changkyun stared at her. “Viola, you can pull off anything you want to. You just have to want to. A fragrance like this will give you that aura of confidence that you want.”

“You think?”

“If you let it,” he insisted. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” She paused. “Do you think guys will like it?”

“Without a doubt, but it’s important you love it, too. Just make sure it doesn’t give you a headache. You come first, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Changkyun narrowed his eyes. “I mean it, Viola. Deep-ending things can drown you.”

“I know, Kyun.”

Vi sniffed her wrist again and smiled. She smelled powerful and alluring, and she felt it, too. Her best friend was right. At the end of the day, this was about her and the woman she wanted to be, and she’d never been more grateful to have a man like Changkyun in her corner to remind her of that.

“But it's only for night time, okay?” he said abruptly, and it jerked her out of her thoughts. His back was to her as he returned the other bottles to their sections, though he said over his shoulder, “Don't go wearing that to work.”

Vi laughed. “Why not?”

“Just… don't.”

“Okay fine, man of mystery,” she agreed with a smile.

“Again with the sass,” he scolded. “I’m not trying to be mysterious, you know. I thought I was being pretty transparent.”

“Nothing about you is transparent, Kyun.”

He returned his attention to her long enough to study her face, and then he let out a sigh. He held the bottle in his hand, his thumb polishing one of the facets as he said, “This perfume? It's a love spell. Cast it wisely.”

“I thought we were avoiding love?”

“Different kind of love,” he clarified. “This kind only lasts as long as this scent does.”

“Sounds like you've got a new song in the making,” she teased.

But he remained serious as said, “Don’t waste it on your coworkers.”

With that, Changkyun turned toward the register and the lengthy blonde waiting behind it, who perked the second he headed toward her. Vi hurried to catch up, and when she got there, the associate was already in the back fetching a fresh bottle.

His card was already out of his wallet as he said, “I’ll buy it for you.”

“No, Kyun,” she said waving her hands, “you don’t need to—”

“You weren't expecting to buy it, so I'm not going to make you.”

“But I already owed you dinner to thank you for today.”

“You can take me out another night this week.”

Vi’s eyebrows scrunched. “What about band practice?”

“It’s not every night. Besides, I have to eat, right? You could just swing by one of the nights. The guys would like to see you, too.”

“Okay, fine. I can bring Chicken Box for them,” she suggested.

“And what about for me?” he said with an uncharacteristic pout.

Vi laughed. “All these years, and I’ve rarely seen you jealous. It looks cute on you.”

“I wasn’t going for cute,” he retorted. “I was going for hot.”

She snarled and gave her best friend a shove to his shoulders. “You ass. Maybe I’ll just feed your friends, and I won’t bring you anything at all now.”

“Fine,” he said, hands on his hips as he leaned in with a smug smile. “Then you’ll owe me a private dinner later.”

“Fine,” she responded just as childishly.

For a minute, they stared each other down like it was high noon in the Old West, but Vi broke first, the corner of her lips twitching, and then her best friend followed until they were both laughing as the saleswoman returned.

As soon Vi’s perfume was bagged, Changkyun paid the bill and nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s get going.”

“Kyun, no more, okay? I don’t know how other people do this much shopping. I’m exhausted.”

“So am I. Now, I’m just hungry.”

At this, Vi perked. “Good. What do you want to eat? The ramen shop Hoseok’s always rambling about is a couple blocks down if you want, or we can get some Vietnamese or Indian. It’s my thanks to you, so it’s your call, but nothing too greasy if you don’t want me falling asleep at the table.”

“Ramen’s good.”

Though Vi was decidedly more extroverted than Changkyun, she loved their easy silences, especially ones like this one. They strolled down the sidewalk under breeze-shaken maples, cars ebbing and flowing like the English Bay. The sun was warm between the skyscrapers, and nearby, silverware clinked in cafes. Sometimes, she would randomly lose her walking partner only to find him stopped somewhere behind her, squinting through storefront displays at Balenciaga or Burberry. Changkyun never said why, but she like to imagine he was dreaming about what he would buy if he made it big with his music someday. He'd always had expensive taste though he rarely splurged.

They stopped at an intersection a block away from the restaurant when a car pulled to a stop at the light, blasting some club pop remix as the driver and passenger scream-sang the lyrics, and a light bulb lit in Vi’s head.

“Hey, that reminds me,” she blurted as she swiveled to face her friend. “What’s the timeline on this mentorship because Tara texted me this flyer that on Wednesday, there’s this DJ—”

Her friend shook his head swiftly. “Wednesday? Viola, no. You’re not ready. You’re nowhere near ready.”

“Not ready? Kyun, we’ve got the bait,” she said as she waggled both handfuls of bags. “Now, we just need a fishing hole.”

“Look, do you just want sex or do you want good sex?”

“Obviously the good stuff…”

“Then pump the brakes,” he said, exasperated. “I feel like you’re not listening to a word I say.”

“That’s not true. I’ve listened to at least five of them,” she replied with a smirk, and Changkyun rolled his eyes.

Just then, her phone rang, and she groped through her hoodie pockets for it. She didn’t have the number in her contacts, but she could have sworn she’d seen it before, so she answered.

“Hello, is this Viola Flowers?” said a rich baritone on the other end.

“Yeah, this is. Who’s this?”

“Oh, hello. This is Son Hyunwoo, from your room. Oh, apologies,” he said immediately. “I mean, I’m the one who looked at renting your spare room.”

Vi pulled to a stop, a big smile on her face. Changkyun stopped, too, watching her with squinted eyes.

“Oh, hey, yeah! I was just talking about you last night,” she said, and her friend tipped his head like a cat unraveling a curious sound. “I’m glad you called. I thought it over, and, yeah, the room’s yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Hyunwoo asked.

“I mean, Minhyuk tried his best to ruin it for you, but if you help me keep his unannounced visits to a minimum, we’re on.”

“I think I can manage that. That’s exactly why I need to move out of his townhome actually. He thinks he’s the lord of the land. I have no room in my life for it.”

Hyunwoo’s tone was so even and serious, it took Vi a lot longer to process his words, and when she did, she brightened. “Was that—was that a pun?”

“I just mean some time apart is meant to be,” Hyunwoo continued unflinchingly. “I need a new sublease on life.”

“I guess it’s not normal wear and tear on your nerves, huh?” Vi prompted, and she could hear the man on the other of the line let out a short, friendly laugh, which made her burst out laughing. She bit her lip to temper her laughter before she trumpeted, “I knew it! It was a terrible pun! And then another? And another? Wow. Just wow. Bad puns are my life blood, but some people don’t really appreciate them.”

She cast a pointed side-eye to her friend, though Changkyun was decidedly unamused. In fact, something about his naturally sharp body lines looked cold and wicked as the steel of a blade.

Vi forced her attention back to her caller and said, “It’s nice to meet another aficionado for the craft of world play. So, you still want to rent the room, right?”

“I do,” Hyunwoo said. “My lease goes through the end of the month here, and I know last time we talked, I said I wouldn’t know if I could even move to the end of the month, but now I’d need to be out by then. Is that okay if it’s a month sooner than I expected?”

“Sooner’s better for me anyway,” she replied.

“Good then. If you have a sublease, can you email it to me so I can review it?”

And he’s responsible to boot? Vi thought to herself, relieved. This was a huge step up from her last disaster of a roomie.

“I’ll send it over when I get home,” she said, and her eyes narrowed. Changkyun had out-paced her now by half a block, hands in his pockets, iris tattoo flexing restlessly. “Hey, Hyunwoo, I’m out right now, so I’ll message you later once I’ve sent the lease, okay?”

“Sounds good. Have a nice day,” said the older man. He had a way of saying things as though he were twenty years older than she was instead of just five.

They said their goodbyes, and Vi jogged lightly to catch up with her best friend, who had already pulled up at the entrance to the noodle shop.

“Okay,” Changkyun said when she got there.

Her brows pinched. “Okay what?”

“Okay, let’s go to this thing on Wednesday.”

Vi dropped her bags to hug her best friend. “Really? Hell yes! Thanks, Kyun.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he mumbled as she crushed him in her embrace. “We're going to have to work through a lot between now and then to get you ready for the real thing, and I’m warning you upfront that you will not be ready by Wednesday, but we'll go and at least practice.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good,” she said as she let him go.

“But we're only doing it if you commit to it this week. We've got a lot to cover, so we'll have to meet up most nights.”

“I can do that, but can you? What about your practices?”

“We can work around them.”

“Yay!” Vi squeaked and then quickly tempered when she remembered the whole purpose of today. “I mean, yeah, sure, sounds good.”

Her friend popped one cool eyebrow.

“We can use my place while it’s still just mine,” she suggested as breezed by him into the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, that reminds me. Hyunwoo said he'd take the room. Sounds like he’ll actually start moving stuff in toward the end of the month.”

“That’s faster than you thought,” said Changkyun. “Didn’t you say he wouldn’t even know if he could move before the end of the month, and now, he’s already moving in?”

“Yeah, but at least that means I won’t have to pay the full rent again next month. My bank account will be happy.”

He hummed and returned his attention to the menu.

After they’d ordered, Vi asked, “So what do you want to cover this week?”

“Priority is safety. It always is,” Changkyun replied immediately.

“Of course,” she said though her annoyance was clear in her voice.

Her friend watched her carefully. “I know that's not the fun stuff, but we have to do it, Viola.”

“You sound like my dad,” she pouted. “But there's lots of other fun stuff on my list.”

“I know, and I'm sure you have it all organized in order of importance.”

Vi squinted at him. “Sass is my thing, not yours.”

“Is it sass if it’s factual? I’ll bet you have it typed up in your phone notepad, too.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. How’s that for mystery?” she said coyly. Changkyun raised a brow, and she sighed as she pulled out her phone again. It only took her a second to pull up her “hot girl” list, and she read, “We’ve covered the clothes and accessories. I won’t need you for the other day-of prep, so I guess what’s left is logistics and technique.”

“Technique?” he asked through a slurp of noodles.

“You know, the sexy eyes and dancing and dirty talk stuff.”

Changkyun choked and thumped his chest with his fist before he gulped down some water. After he recovered from his cough, he said, “You expect me to teach you how to dirty talk?”

“I didn’t say that. You asked what’s left. I’m telling you. I’m not going to make this weird for you. I’ll just learn some lines from porn.”

Thankfully, this time, his chopsticks were halfway to his mouth, and he was spared a second round of choking.

“Please don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you picking up insane or bad habits.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You know this is not my wheelhouse, and I want to learn. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Changkyun smiled at her in his gentle way, his soft parentheses dimples bracketing it. “I understand, but what’s wrong with just trying a few new things at a time? If it’s a little awkward, so what? It happens. Sex isn’t perfect, Viola. Embarrassing stuff happens. Bad dirty talk isn’t a big deal compared to some of the stuff I’ve seen.”

At this prompt, Vi propped both elbows up on the table and set her chin on her fists. With big eyes, she asked, “Really? Like what?”

He frowned lightly and looked down at their food. “I don’t know if this is—”

“Come on, man, you can’t start a thought like that and not finish it. Make me feel better.”

“Fine,” he relented but lowered his voice. “One girl sneezed right into my mouth when she was riding me.”

Vi reeled back, barely missing knocking over her bowl as she cringed. “Oh my god!”

“And another was deepthroating me, gagged herself, and threw up on me.”

“That’s possible?” she squealed.

“Shit happens,” he said with a shrug.

“New fear unlocked, holy shit.”

Changkyun shook his head. “It was messy, yeah, and kind of gross, sure, but I still got them off before they went home.”

“Are you serious?” she gaped. “How are you so calm about that? I’d die. I’d probably never attempt sex again.”

“Like I said, shit happens. They were working hard for me. I had to make them feel better.”

“I swear to god, Kyun, there’s no other man like you.”

“You’d be surprised what a guy can forgive for the sake of sex.”

Vi deflated. “If there’s anything to make me want to stick to your code to the letter, it’s this. I could never see a guy again if I threw up on him. Catch me under a river rock, bye.”

Changkyun resumed his soup slurping as though he hadn’t just traumatized his best friend for life, leaving her to gnaw on the edge of her lip.

“Food’s getting cold,” he nudged as he took another drink.

“I’ll never eat again,” she swore.

“Hot girls eat well, come on.”

“I can’t stand you and your cool guy schtick. Okay, fine,” she said twirling some noodles into a bite. “So this week, I guess I’ll let you be safety officer first, and then maybe you can point out some hot girl dances moves at the DJ thing? You can be my living mirror.”

“Living mirror?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you know. You can reflect my successes and failures. Point out stuff other girls are doing and then give me tips when I try.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Vi nodded as she gulped down a bite.

“And what about the dirty talk lessons?” he asked.

At this, she pursed her lips. “I’m really not trying to overstep your good will, man. There’s, like, Cosmo articles and shit, I’m sure.”

Changkyun laid his chopsticks across his bowl and narrowed his eyes at her. “No, Viola, I know you. If I don't help you, you'll help yourself, and I don't need you shouting ‘Choke me, daddy’ to a stranger.”

It was Vi’s turn to choke. She banged her fist against her collar bone and downed her entire glass of water.

“Shut up,” she hissed, eyes scouring the restaurant. It wasn’t too busy, but that only made it feel that much louder. “I’m not trying to ruin everyone’s meals.”

“Then I suggest you accept my help.”

Vi glowered at him. “All this time, I didn’t realize you were a blackmailer at heart.”

“Comes in handy in the bedroom, too,” he added.

“I have so much to learn, sempai.”

Changkyun smiled that secretive smile once more. His voice dropped in octave as he promised, “Good because there’s so much I want to teach you.”

[xexiar]

Keep Watching. Ch 2

Chapter 1 Ao3

---

Chapter 2

After hanging out at the local park, we all finally headed home. It was then I learned that Izuku lived nearby. How did we never cross paths before? At the corner, before heading home, I asked him if he wanted to go bug hunting with me. Usually, Kato and Saito always turned me down. But maybe Izuku was different. "I would love to!" Hearing that made me so happy that I couldn't stop smiling.

"We'll meet here tomorrow morning." Izuku nodded, and he went home. I watched him for a while and saw how he entered the apartments across the street. So, that's where he lived. I wonder what it's like living in one of those. After all, I lived in a house.

The next day, I felt nervous as I waited at the corner for Izuku. I wasn't sure why, but that's what I was feeling. And when Izuku showed up, I was kind of confused. He wore the same shorts from yesterday and a shirt that seemed too big. Not to mention the shirt had a few holes. Was that normal? "Good morning, Kacchan." He wore a big smile as he ran up to me. As I got a closer look, he looked like a mess.

"Good morning, Izuku. Let's go to my place to get my bug net and containers." Izuku nodded, and I grabbed his hand while I pulled him along.

"You got one of the unlimited collectors All Might bronze age poster! You're so lucky, Kacchan!"

I looked over to Izuku as he smiled and commented about my room. My face felt somewhat hot as he kept praising everything. Even saying nice things about my comic book collection. Not to mention talking endlessly about my action figures. That's when I remember the second All Might figure I had gotten from my grandma. Maybe I should give that to him after we were done playing.

We soon went to the park, where Izuku held both bug-holding containers. We spotted a dragonfly flying over our heads as we neared the park. We both laughed as we tried to chase after it. I got my bug net ready, but the dragonfly was too fast and high. "Hold on, Kacchan. I need to catch my breath." I looked behind me and saw Izuku holding his knees as he seemed to struggle to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Izuku. I didn't mean to outrun you."

He quickly stood upright, held his fist in front of his chest, and shook his head. "I'm fine, Kacchan. That dragonfly was just too fast." Even though he was smiling, tears were sliding down his face. I started to walk over to him, but he began to step forward. "Come on, Kacchan. I wonder what bugs we'll find. Maybe we'll come across another dragonfly." Why did this feel so familiar?

But before I could say something, Izuku kept insisting we enjoy today. "Is everything ok?"

"My mom is at work and doesn't know I'm not home." I was in complete shock. "Come on, Kacchan." Izuku's smile made me worry. "It's ok. Mom just works odd jobs." Before long, we were in search of beetles and other bugs. Izuku's laughing and cheering almost made me forget what he had recently said.

…

Since I first spoke with Kacchan, it has been one adventure after another. Form getting the same All Might card to him giving me a matching limited edition All Might action figure. The action figure I had to hide from mom, or else she would have taken it away from me. Which she does whenever I get something she didn't buy me.

I even got to hang out with Kacchan instead of spending my days alone at home while mom worked many jobs. It felt amazing to have a friend. Especially one that was so amazing and is like my hero. We would explore the nearby parks almost every day, or I would visit his home. Sometimes, Kato and Saito would join us at the park, but they often ignored me. It didn't matter to me as long as I spent time with Kacchan.

All though, the only thing we didn't do was spend time at my home. Even more so when mom was home. Maybe I should invite him over when mom would be at work and wouldn't get mad at me. Mom doesn't scream or hit like Kacchan's mom does, but I knew when she was mad. Mom cries a lot, but I knew the difference between angry and sad tears. I don't like either one and would try to avoid them.

I eventually did tell my mom how I had a friend. At first, she didn't react. But when I mentioned how Kacchan invited me to a sleepover, she started asking questions. "Come on, mom. You won't have to worry about if I'm ok while you deal with your double shifts. And you'll be able to sleep in."

"Fine, Izuku." She then got her purse and took out her wallet and a notepad. I watched as she wrote something and then ripped the page out. She then took out a few bills from her wallet. Handing me the money and paper, I was confused. "That's my number. Make sure to give it to your friend's mom."

"Yes, mom." With that, I went to my room. I closed the door and went to my secret hiding spot, and grabbed the gift I got for Kacchan. When I learned Kacchan's birthday was coming up, I saved as much of my allowance as possible to get him something. I may not have eaten anything besides the daycare's meals, but it was worth it. I then packed my bookbag and ran out of the apartment.

When I got to Kacchan's house, I started feeling nervous. Not like I haven't been here before. But today just feels different. I was surprised that it was Kacchan's dad who answered the door. Usually, it was his mom. As I took off my shoes, I faintly heard screaming. Was Kacchan and his mom arguing again? They do this a lot.

Walking into the living room area, I saw how Kacchan's mom looked angrily down at Kacchan. I watched how Kacchan's dad tried to get in between the two. It's always like this. It would often start over with something so small like Kacchan saying something under his breath. That's when she looked up and saw me. Auntie Bakugou smiled at me before telling Kacchan that I was there. "You boys, go play while I finish cooking dinner. And Katsuki, remember what we talked about."

"Yeah, yeah." The way Auntie Bakugou looked at Kacchan scared even me. But thankfully, she went over to the kitchen. That's when Kacchan walked over to me. I could see that he had tears going down his face. As much as I want to ask, I know better. It always makes him more upset. "Do you want to watch a movie or play?"

"We could watch a movie! Oh," I handed him the gift. "I'm sorry I couldn't have given it to you on your birthday. But I hope you like it."

As I watched Kacchan unwrap his gift, he slowly smiled again. But his smile grew when he saw it was an All Might doll. "Thank you so much!" Watching him hug his doll made me happy. I'm so glad that I did this.

As we watched the latest All Might movie, it was so much fun. We spoke about how cool All Might was and pointed out all his incredible moves. It was fun finally having someone else to talk about All Might with. We even ended up acting out the movie after dinner. I don't ever want this night to end.

…

It felt like summer ended too soon when daycare started again. But it was so amazing all that time with Izuku. As we walked, I couldn't stop smiling. Even though I also hung out with Kato and Saito, neither came to my house. Either way, I had so much fun with Izuku, which matters the most to me.

Especially since when Izuku came over after I had a fight with my mom, he would cheer me up. I was shocked when I finally went to his home. His place felt so empty. Even more, knowing his mom was barely home. That's when he told me things, and I watched him painfully cry. I then promised him that he'll never be alone again.

His mom reminds me so much of my mom. I love my mom, but she doesn't ever listen to me. I'm very grateful to have Izuku by my side. Somehow, he just makes everything seem better. Kind of like he was my hero. But I'm too scared to tell him. What if I stop being amazing in his eyes?

"Is everything ok, Kacchan?"

I looked at Izuku and suddenly realized that I was crying. I quickly wiped away the tears, smiled, and gave a thumbs-up. "I'm ok."

"You don't have to lie to me, Kacchan. Is it something about what your mom said the other day?" How does he do that?

"It's nothing like that. I was just thinking about stuff."

"Ok?"

When we arrived at the daycare, I did my best to put on my bravest face. We had a new sitting this year, and I was somewhat surprised that Izuku was placed behind me. Now I won't be able to see him. Maybe this is a good thing because my focus is always on him.

During recess, something amazing happened. As Izuku and I sat under the tree, my hands started to tingle. When I looked at my hands, I noticed they were very sweaty. It almost smells like my dad's palm sweat, with a hint of moms quirk. I wonder.

I stood up, put my hands in front of me, and snapped my figures. Just then, it felt like something had popped into my hands. And it burned. When I looked at my hands, sparks were popping in my hand. It was almost like fireworks. "That's so cool!"

"I know, right!" I looked at Izuku, and he was smiling. "Now all that's left is for you to get your quirk, and we can start training to be heroes."

"I can't wait, Kacchan!" With that, the bell rang, and we returned to the building.

When we got to the classroom, I told our teacher that I got my quirk. "Would you like to share with the rest of the class?" I quickly nodded, and everyone surrounded me. Trying to remember how I activated the reaction from earlier was easy. "Oh wow. That's a very strong quirk. You're going to be super amazing as a hero."

…

What is Kacchan not able to do? It was so amazing to watch how Kacchan got his quirk and how everyone surrounded him. My friend was so cool. And as I watched him show off, his quirk reminded me of his dad's. Either way, it was so cool. I wonder when I'll get my quirk. Maybe it'll be just as impressive as Kacchan's.

Once we were allowed to head home, I noticed the mean boys were talking with Kacchan again. And for some reason, it was making me mad. Even though during the summer we didn't see them much. But I do wonder why they're speaking to Kacchan now. Kacchan seemed to enjoy his chat, so I waited patiently as he spoke. All while, I didn't like it. Before long, he and the others started to walk away. I quickly followed behind. What just happened?

The walk home was strange, almost like I was forgotten. Kacchan only spoke with the other boys. He even showed off his quirk. That's when I remembered that the other two had already gotten their quirks. Now, I for sure felt left out. This wasn't far! Maybe mom would know what to do.

This wasn't possible. At that, why did it have to be me? It didn't help with how mom reacted to the doctor's words. She had an emotionless face before crying, just like the day she told me about dad. "Your son will never have a quirk." No! I won't believe it. I need one to be a hero. What about my promise to Kacchan?

That night mom's words repeated in my head. It didn't help with how she looked at me before turning around. Then thoughts on how Kacchan would react when he finds out. Even recalling how he slowly started to ignore while playing with everyone else. I became angry again until I looked at my All Might doll. He always smiles. He never shows any other emotion. That night I cried myself to sleep, wondering what I should do.

While I slowly made my way to the daycare, I spotted Kacchan at our usual meeting spot. Do I tell him? Would he treat me differently once he knew? While we walked, I couldn't even look at him. But I listened as he excitedly told me how his parents gave him help with his quirk. I tried my best to keep a smile as I enjoyed the joy he shared. "Why didn't you show up yesterday?"

Why did Kacchan have to ask that question? Should I even say it? I tried my best to keep smiling as I looked at Kacchan. "I went to the hospital about my quirk."

Kacchan ran in front of me and had this big smile. Seeing him like this always made me happy. I don't want to ruin that smile. But what am I supposed to do? "So, what quirk do you think you'll have?"

"Aren't we going to be late?"

Kacchan turned around and started to run. "You're right. Let's hurry." He looked behind him. "And then you can tell everyone about you having a quirk!"

[ashlee-bonfamille-lyons]

A Final Pinky Promise {Tiny Dancers}

Ashlee says goodbye to Nemo.

@justkeepdancing-nemo

Date: A couple days after the showcase.

Ashlee

So this was it. Boxes were moved into a truck and the movers were heading out. Juniper was asleep in her carrier by the door. Her room felt empty, even with some of her items left, even with it being a place she could come back and call her room, it was still just a fraction of the life she had created in here.

It was empty, it was scary.

She was leaving everything she considered her safety net.

She was leaving the first place she ever felt safe, she was leaving one of the people that made her feel so safe.

And even though she didn’t want to think that far ahead she couldn’t help it.

She had to because this was it. 

Staring at her room one more time Ashlee took a deep breath.

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

NEMO: 

Ashlee was leaving. 

Ashlee was leaving. 

No matter how many times Nemo had told himself this to prepare himself, it never really felt real. Not as long as he saw Ashlee around – going to Hatter’s for coffee and tea, or meeting up in the uni dance studios to mess around. It’d been a really good summer, honestly. It was a summer of dance. A summer of laughing. A summer of Nemo-and-Ashlee.

But today, Nemo had woken up to a chill in the air, the sign of coming autumn, and he knew that the summer was over. And Ashlee was leaving. Here he was, in her doorway, staring at her empty room and for the first time, he started to believe it.

Nemo felt his throat get a little tight, but he was determined to be wrong. That’s what he needed to do for Ashlee, yeah? As her partner, Ashlee was supposed to rely on him - to know that if she jumped, Nemo would catch her.

“Aw, I’m sure you are!” Nemo said with a bit of mock cheer. He grinned brightly, trying to make Ashlee grin too. “It’s gonna be amazing! Maybe a little scary at first, but just think. Soon you’ll have all kinds of cool shopping around, and like, ten different coffee shoppes to choose from. That’s nutty. In a good way!” 

Ashlee

Ashlee did smile at him, but for once she didn’t need him to be her cheerleader. This was sad, and while it was going to lead to good things and she was proud of it, she was also sad she was leaving her dance partner behind.

Who knew what the future would hold for them? Would they get time to meet up and practice and make routines like they did before?

She hoped so.

“You’re going to be able to experience it too you know. Maybe not as often as we like but you’ve always got a place to stay and you can see all the ten different coffee shops in walking distance.” Ashlee mused nudging him once.

NEMO: 

Ah, yeah. That was true– but also felt so unrealistic to Nemo. He knew that he was probably being silly, but London felt just as far as Paris to him. Or Seoul. Or anywhere else where his friends had gone off to, and then forgot him.

No, no, they didn’t forget him. But… it had never felt the same, after they had left. 

Would things change with Ashlee too? 

Yes. Yes, he knew that it would.

His smile softened a bit, and Nemo wasn’t able to hide some of the worry that crept in. “Ah yeah– yeah, I guess I’ll have to save up and come visit you sometime, huh?”

Ashlee

Ashlee moved to rest her head on his shoulder just for a moment, she would miss moments where she could do this. She wasn’t sure she would ever trust anyone the way that she trusted Nemo. “Exactly, and then I can show you all around the place and dance in some of their studios. It’ll be fun.” 

But even she was having a hard time making that sound upbeat and joyous. 

NEMO: 

Yeah, it would be fun, if it happened. It was just that now Nemo was used to life happening. Everyone had to pick priorities and a lot of the time those priorities didn’t involve fucking around with friends, having sleepovers, going to parties– or even dancing just to dance, with no show to practice for. He couldn’t resent Ashlee in case it happened with her too. If she got busy, if she made new friends, if she forgot him– as long as she was happy, that’s what mattered. Or, that’s the kind of supportive friend that Nemo wanted to be. So he smiled again, though Ashlee couldn’t see it since she was still leaning on his shoulder. “Yeah, that sounds awesome. And– you’ll be back here too, right? Maybe– for Christmas?” 

Ashlee

“Yup, I’ll come back for holidays. Whichever ones I can make it.” She was too sure considering performances but she would make it work.

Holding out her hand she took Nemo’s in hers giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m not gonna disappear okay? This is my everything and my safe place. You’re my safe place and I’m not giving that up any time soon okay.”

NEMO: 

Nemo was trying to be breezy. He was trying to be bright. He wanted to be a beautiful last memory for Ashlee– something she could look back on and smile about. He didn’t want to make her feel guilty or make her cry or anything like that–

But she knew him too well. And so of course her words made Nemo’s eyes fill with tears, and before he could stop it, they slipped down his cheeks. 

It was just so, so hard to say goodbye. 

“I–I know,” he said, voice wobbly. He sniffed. “Sorry, I– I just– you’re my safe place too. I– I dunno what I’m gonna do without you here.” 

Ashlee

Ashlee’s bottom lip wobbled as Nemo’s voice wobbled, she didn’t know how she would do this, but she knew she had to. So she would power forward. 

“You’re going to be Nemo, and you’re going to excel, One way or another.” Ashlee stated sternly. She believed it too. He deserved it, he had racked up so much good karma that she believed life has to work out for him.

“And I promise, I’m a call away, a text away if you ever need anything, if you ever wanna gossip, just hit me up, okay? I still wanna know everything.” Ashlee offered lifting her head and with her free hand wiping away any tears that wanted to fall. 

NEMO:

Nemo wanted to argue. Just look at him so far – look at how much he struggled, how hard everything was when he didn’t have his friends to lean on. He didn’t know how to excel, not really. He only knew how to mess up. He needed Ashlee around to make sure he didn’t mess up. But Nemo knew how selfish that was. He was almost twenty now, and he couldn’t lean on Ashlee, or use her ambition to push him ever forward. He had to reach down deep inside himself and find that drive for himself. He knew that he had it. That’s why he and Ashlee got along anyway– because as different as they seemed on the surface, deep down, they were the same. They were ambitious. And they loved to dance. He just had to love dance without her.

Nemo swallowed again. “I–I will, I promise. Probably more than you want me to.” He sniffled again, another tear sliding down his cheek. He smiled though. “You’re gonna think I’m so annoying, I’m gonna text you so much.” 

Ashlee

Ashlee shook her head, that’s what she wanted, what she needed. She needed to be able to stay connected to this town, to the people here. “You underestimate how much I want that. You’re going to get all the drama from my side too.” Ashlee stated simply before wrapping her arms around Nemo in a tight hug.

She didn’t want to say goodbye but they only had so much time left and she was going to make the best of it. “I love you, okay? Never forget that.”

NEMO:

Nemo put his arms around Ashlee and hugged her back. He shut his eyes, and pretended this wasn’t goodbye at all. 

It was. It also wasn’t. Realistically– he’d probably see Ashlee sooner than he thought, right? He’d definitely talk to her sooner. He could almost imagine it. In a few hours, his phone would light up with pictures from her new flat. In a day or so, she’d send him a video of herself practicing, and ask him for tips. In a month, his phone would ring and ring and Ashlee would wish him happy birthday. He’d miss her, but he’d also always be connected to her. There was something about the two of them that was– meant to be. Nemo couldn’t explain that, but he did believe it. Nemo pulled back then, put his hands on Ashlee’s shoulders and smiled through his tears. “I love you too, Ashlee. Thanks for being the best dance partner I could ever have. Let’s– promise each other that we’re gonna dance together again someday, okay? Even if it’s just for fun.” He held up his pinky. “Cuz all I wanna do is dance with you.” 

Ashlee

Ashlee blinked back tears but she nodded. That was an easy promise, something that Ashlee wanted with her whole heart. Nothing would stop her, after all both of them were stubborn and resilient as hell and if they wanted it. They would get it.

Holding up her pinky she locked it with his. A finale suited for both of them, with promises to the future.

“I promise- we’re going to dance together again someday.”

[w4rningbutterflies]

" careful, i might start telling you your horoscope next. "  there's a smirk that catches the edge of his lips, that glints just right in the dim lighting of the room.  he doesn't admit outright that sometimes he reads the articles to see if maybe there's an answer hidden within them, that if he unveils some sort of secret that he'll find a solution for the way that he is.  so far it hasn't worked. 

there's something that screams brutal honesty in the way that floch talks  &  holds himself  ––  a type of honesty that makes his skin crawl because it's usually rooted in deep truths that he doesn't want to confront.  

he's been at those parties too, the ones where floch is the center of everything because there's that effortlessness that coms with names, with legacy; it's the same way that people tend to settle around him too, a gravitational pull that he isn't fond of in the least.  they center around floch  &  ask him about his day, his endeavors, if he's going to start looking for some sort of relationship soon, who has managed to grab his eye.  they ask eren about where they can buy blow, if he has weed on him, if he's still running with the same people or if he's finally decided that he wants to follow in grisha  &  zeke's footsteps.  they ask him about zeke, if he's found anyone yet, if they can pass along their number because there's a business that can be invested in. 

it's never about him, not in the way that he wants to be seen; for the sketchbooks that litter his room, for the paintings  &  scribbled notes in the margins of receipts.  he has always been overshadowed by the person that zeke  &  grisha are  ––  &  more tha anything, he's carried that weight of bastard child, unwanted child on his shoulders for years.  he has used it as an excuse to show his teeth  &  destroy everything the first second that he possibly can. 

it's not a good safety net.  it's gotten him in trouble more times than he can count; it's had grisha scrambling to purchase up photos that were unsavory, stories that were going to be broken if he allowed them to be.  it was never to save eren's image though  ––  it was to save his own.  yeager seems to only extend to the two of them  &  the hyphenated name of dina.  eren stumbles with the name on his back but none of the perks  ––  only the shame.

so floch has a unique honesty about him; he doesn't sugarcoat that eren makes scenes  &  that it's more likely than anything else that he's being talked about.  it's not unfathomable that rumors start in his wake  &  that he's making his own reputation part of it.  dirty subway cars  &  shaded looks at said parties are enough to confirm that; he doesn't need floch to.

the last party he had gone to had ended up with him out on the balcony, smoking with his legs pushed through the railing as he stared down at the expanse of marley below.  no one had missed him  ––  zeke hadn't noticed he was gone for two solid hours.  he had counted; some part of him had hoped, but it wasn't his to have  &  he knows that.  even when he had found him he had asked for a cigarette  ––  not why eren was out there.

sometimes he looks at the expanse of the sea  &  tastes the salt air on his tongue  &  thinks about moving back to paradis full time.  he thinks about shadis  &  carla,  &  how there is a welcoming mat that's rolled out there.  how he could disappear among the streets of shiganshina like he had when he was a kid, curled up next to a stream while the sun sets  &  casts everything in gold. 

sometimes he thinks he's been there before; his body doesn't feel like it's his when he looks at the large tree that stands overlooking the city.  he gets a strange feeling that makes his knees weak  &  makes his stomach churn,  &  that's usually his hint to head back to carla's home, up the stone walk way  &  into the scent of home cooking that makes his heart feel better.

the only reason he hasn't is because he likes marley, for whatever fucked up reason.  he knows deep down it's because of the easy access  ––  to whatever treats he wants, to whatever adrenaline rushes that he wants to pull into his chest.  &  more importantly, floch is here  ––  he wouldn't follow him to paradis  &  he knows it.  he thrives in a socialite setting.  he thrives when he's away from eren.

eren tries not to take it or his brutal honesty too personally.  sometimes it smarts though, knowing he won't be chosen.  that this is fun  &  that eren may have given his heart, but there is no heart to give in return. 

lips press against his jaw  &  it soothes some of the hurt away; it boxes it up to be compartmentalized until later, when he'll scribble it down in pages before setting them on fire with his lighter.  still, he lets his eyes close for a moment, lets himself focus on the spot of warmth as the reply rolls on his tongue. 

" you act like i want them to talk about me.  trust me, i'm sure grisha wishes they'd forget about me.  if it were up to him, he would've tucked me away with carla  &  never looked back.  that's what the golden boy is for. "  his eyes roll at the mention of zeke, the bitterness coating his tongue.  he wishes him  &  his brother had a better relationship, but it's one that was doomed from the start.  dina had driven that wedge between them before it ever had a good chance to blossom.  sometimes eren mourns it.  sometimes eren sets it on fire just like those scribbled words.

hiding in the expanse of his neck feels like it's a good place to start  ––  to allow himself to hide from the teasing lilt that's thrown back at him for the question asked.  of course it would be a bad thing if people knew about them; he doesn't know what floch's parents would do, but he knows that grisha would put him out on his ass  &  he wouldn't have any other place to go but back to carla's.  his own apartment is in the works, but things are still being finalized; it would be out there for the world to know  &  they'd both be alone because things wouldn't work out.

he thinks sometimes that floch wants them to be found out, wants to test just how far they can pull the cord of adrenaline  &  secrecy until it's close to snapping, until they're close to being caught.  he thinks he wants an easy out or even worse, a test toward him to know if he would seriously stay.  eren likes to think that he's loyal, that he wouldn't back down; if he moved back to paradis, he would make it work.  carla doesn't give a shit who he loves so long as he's happy.

maybe it wouldn't be so bad.  the thought of that tree though makes his chest hurt  &  he pulls floch a little closer, arms securing around his waist like maybe it'll help chase away that strange feeling that makes a headache begin to blossom in his temple.

he doesn't understand the appeal of being so tall, of looking down on everyone anymore.  he doesn't understand the appeal of champagne flutes  &  fake laughter with people who wear faker diamonds to pretend that they're of status. 

he just wants him  &  there's this nagging feeling within him that maybe, just maybe, floch might not want the normal person that he constantly wants to be.

teeth lightly nip at his skin before he swallows hard, presses his forehead against his shoulder for a long moment  &  allows the scent of his cologne to settle into his own skin.  most of his clothing smells like floch these days.  he doesn't want to admit how much he chases the scent when he's away.

" maybe i'm tired of secrecy.  maybe i want everyone to know you're mine. "  there's a soft possessiveness, but it's a dangerous cat  &  mouse game that he's playing, a gamble that he knows won't pay off.  it never pays off when there's these conversations blooming like bruises.

he props his chin on his shoulder, thumbs absent mindedly drumming against the waistband of his sweats over his shirt.  " would you want me if i moved to paradis  &  just sold my paintings?  if i decided i never wanted to take after grisha  &  zeke  &  wanted out of that circle? "

he never wears purple beneath his eyes, never shows exhaustion shadowing his skin & turning him haggard — he’s prone to nightmares, most nights. he never remembers them, & they never wake him. instead, floch sleeps like a goddamn baby, sleeps at peace, & it shows. 

but he’s prone to night terrors – & it makes him more conscious of things that wait in the shadows, the fingers of bad luck, & what it means for the existence of demons & the existence of malicious intent. he looks for omens sometimes, without meaning to –  for cracked glass & torn threads & electrical currents & whispers on the trains, a tribute to paranoia.

do people whisper about you on the train like me? he had asked eren in passing, as though the question means nothing. floch watches eren trail from one room to the next like a specter. eren treats it like it means nothing, too, when he takes wayward paths to drop himself next to floch on the couch with a casualness that feels like there’s nothing worth listening to. 

floch knocks his knee against eren’s – proof that he doesn’t mean anything by it either. he looks for omens sometimes, & guardrails himself with something defensive because he’s not into mysticism, into superstition. he’s not like that.

he’s too proud to admit that he’s anything but the way that he is -  too boyish, too boisterous sometimes, cocksure & bold. his laugh is a barking sound, & he takes too much joy in kicks of adrenaline from driving too fast & balancing on a tightline. eren likes that sort of thrill too – & it’s why they get on together. it’s nice sometimes, knowing that there’s someone else that wants to see the world from way up high – 

he’s too proud,  & pride is something drilled into him like a murmur of entitlement that doesn’t make sense because it doesn’t overwrite the taste of something sour at the back of his throat – it twists his lips downwards, & eren doesn’t listen. 

instead, eren leans in close & makes the air feel thin. he uses the pads of his thumbs smoothe away furrows in floch’s brow as though he’s got nothing to worry about, as though every sour feeling could be explained away by the things that floch permits – like the importance of social status & familial expectations & charisma. 

still, eren smiles at him. & the expression is so private & fond & a little bit smug – floch’s inclined to believe him. it’s obnoxious, he thinks, that he thinks eren could probably convince him of just about anything. 

it’s to hard to imagine himself disagreeing with him because he’s contagious, the way that he gets drunk on a playful idea of rebellion. in grisha’s house, floch has watched him stand on top of a too-expensive table & make himself untouchable. he’s watched him drink stolen wine from the bottle & tell him that they shouldn’t be afraid, that floch should just tell his family to fuck off if he really wants them too. 

it’s a little hypocritical, floch thinks, because eren never really manages to tell his family to get lost – even if he pretends that he does. even if he walks on furniture & reinvents the space with floch as a guest. 

 half of floch’s appeal is that he fits into the space that eren already is. he’s the best option, right now, for joy kicks of adrenaline & driving too fast. 

still, maybe floch would consider spiting his family – if it were actually about his family. but he’s too proud to admit that the sourness isn’t always about expectations, about charming things. sourness instead hangs in things that wait in the shadows, the fingers of bad luck, & what it means for the existence of demons & the existence of malicious intent. 

he doesn’t talk to eren about that sort of thing. they don’t talk about that sort of thing. it’s nice sometimes, knowing that there’s someone else that wants to see the world from way up high – part of this game they play together means that they imagine they have no weaknesses, that they could never fall. 

sometimes he almost believes it too. he wonders if eren believes it. 

it’s enough, anyway, that floch preens under the attention & lets eren win & concedes defeat with the way he falls against eren’s chest. he paints a cool kind of boredom across his features so that they share that casualness that feels like there’s nothing worth listening to, nothing besides the two of them. 

‘ shit, who actually talks like that ? eligible bachelor ? i think i’ve only seen that in some teen girls’ gossip rag, you read that stuff ?  ‘ he complains & waves a hand as though it means anything. 

it’s true that he gets attention easily – because he’s at the center of things. because boyish, too boisterous sometimes, cocksure & bold. his laugh is a barking sound. because he’s properly political & not political enough. 

it makes him a safe option, & it makes him a dangerous option. floch’s certain that eren can see the appeal. 

‘ you always make an ass of yourself. most people will say it to your face, you know, so no one’s whispering about it. on the trains or elsewhere. it just adds to your charm. i would know. ‘ 

he drops his head back & kisses at the base of eren’s jaw as though he were laughing & appreciates the game that they’re playing – even if he can’t help but be sullen because he can’t talk about it, the way he looks for omens sometimes, without meaning to –  for cracked glass & torn threads & electrical currents & whispers on the trains, a tribute to paranoia : do people whisper about you on the train like me? do you feel like you’re about to see the end of the world ? 

‘ i don’t know, eren. is it so bad if they think there’s an us ? ‘ he counters, because he can’t help it. because he’s too proud – because the two of them, they’re used to standing on the top of the world, & because they might fall.

but he supposes eren’s right, in the end. it’s about secrecy. still, eren tucks his face against his neck, & it’s obnoxious, he thinks, that he thinks eren could probably convince him of just about anything. 

[aspens-whump]

🌊 Whump for mermaids

Fantasy whump ideas no. 3

(Both because it's Mermay and to celebrate finally finishing AP exams. I'm using the word mermaid as gender neutral here.)

Mermaid Whumpee gets caught in nets or garbage. Maybe they got captured, maybe they just got tangled up in something floating around, but either way, they're stuck. It restricts their movement so they sink, pinning their tail against itself. They become more vulnerable to Whumper. They panic and start desperately thrashing, but they can't get out, possibly injuring themselves in the process. The thing they're trapped in can cut them, block circulation, suffocate them, etc. Caretaker tries to free them, but they might end up making it worse.

Continuing with nets, getting captured by sailors and getting pulled up onto their boat. Maybe one of the sailors is kind to them and tries to help, but the others treat them like a prisoner, excited to show off their rare catch when they get to shore. Mermaid Whumpee is mistreated horribly, locked in a tiny crate of stale water, fed nothing but whatever scraps the sailors don't want.

Underwater dangers. Mermaid Whumpee can get bit by a shark, scraped on underwater rocks, stung by venomous jellyfish, and more! Since they can't go onto the land to get help, they're stuck trying to treat themselves in the water. Their hands shake as they try to wrap seaweed around their injuries.

Or, if they somehow do end up getting help on land, medical whump (TW for blood). Caretaker tries their best, but they have no idea how to treat a mermaid. Mermaid Whumpee ends up in a little tub of water with barely enough room to move. Blood leaks through the soggy bandages and stains the water red.

Getting beached or washed up on the rocks, struggling to breathe as they frantically try to scramble back towards the water.

Tanks. They get put in a tank that is much too small and gives them no space to hide, putting them on display for Whumper. Whumper taunts them by getting them one of those little fish houses that is much too small. They try to escape by jumping or climbing out, but soon they find that they can't open the door to the room Whumper is keeping them in, and time is running out.

Scales. Mermaid Whumpee's tail is covered in beautiful scales, which Whumper occasionally plucks out to torture them. Their scales might also make them a target for sailors, other mermaids, etc.

Freezing. Since Mermaid Whumpee is pretty much always in water, it's not super hard to freeze them solid. Maybe someone else accidentally turns them into an ice cube while using some ice-related magic too close to the water, or maybe Whumper freezes them in there on purpose. (Look I just really like cold whump okay.)

Actually, just temperature whump in general. Some types of fish need super specific temperatures and can die if the water is too hot or too cold. Whumper can use this to their advantage, threatening to dial up the heat or drop ice into the water depending on which would hurt Mermaid Whumpee more.

(Feel free to add on! Mermaids are more whumpable than I expected lol.)

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Genshin Men and Where You First Meet Them

This is my first time writing Genshin Impact, so please bear with me if I don’t get their personalities right. Includes using a haiku in Kazuha’s that I found on the net because I couldn’t be asked to write one myself.

Pairings: Kaeya, Childe, Diluc, Zhongli, Ayato, Kazuha, Thoma x fem reader

-

Kaeya had been someone you didn’t think you would hold a conversation within such a bustling party, the extravagant man was so very noticeable even amongst the crowds. you bumped into whilst at the bar, ordering for your friends whilst he was waiting for his to be made, accidentally bumping shoulders with you, intrigue lighting up his face, “Oh~ I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” the rest of the evening was spent ignoring each other’s friends, found in a secluded corner in hopes of getting to know one another better

-

When you first met Childe, he was like any other person training at the gym, easily doing pull-ups on the bar, a sight to be seen. broad, muscular back on show through the measly tank top, the main character moment he knew of when all eyes were on him. you could only bet he could see or even sense you watching him, occasionally locking eyes with you as he flashed a dazzling smile and flirty wink, and he coming over when he spotted an ego lifter trying to hit you up, discomfort written all over your face. he didn’t have to say much when he came over to get the guy to leave, calmness washing over him like heavy waves from the ocean, “I’m sorry he had to get up in all your business, Girlie. If you ever need help, you know who to call~.”

-

Diluc had been a friend of yours since childhood, a friendship that slowly grew colder the older you got. it had rekindled like a familiar old flame when you found him working as the bartender to a popular bar, refined and stoic to all the goggling from those who snapped their drinks being made on social media, attempting to make small-talk with him. although he looked the same, the Diluc from childhood was different, cooled down from the years you knew of the boisterous yet charismatic boy. “You know, if you ever want to meet up, I’m down to know what you’re doing and finally catch up.” maybe he had always been charismatic to you

-

Unlike what you expected from a man of such knowledge, meeting Zhongli came as a surprise. he didn’t exactly follow the looks for a librarian, a striking gentleman who no one knew just how old he truly was. he had helped you collect books from the top shelf when he saw you struggling to reach them, highly intrigued in sharing his passion for the book you were wanting to read. the two of you spent what felt like hours listening to each other, the man being an entire encyclopaedia with the number of things he knew in general and of the topic of your book, “If you ever wish to speak more of this topic, I would happily spend my time doing so.”

-

Meeting Ayato had been through mutual connections. you had known his younger sister through high school and to college, always been invited to his house when it had been the two of you. you had heard tale of her brother whilst growing up to who you were today, never catching a glance of him when he would’ve been at college himself, but it had been from a business trip abroad where he had finally travelled home, finally meeting him face to face. he was as suave and charismatic as you had predicted, and when Ayaka had gone off to the bathroom, you felt his unexpected gaze on you, moving towards you as he poured himself and you a drink, “Who knew my little sister had such a lovely friend~ Let’s hope I get to see you more often.”

-

Kazuha had been a regular at the café you worked at, yet you had never had the chance to serve him. he usually came alone, a pen and notebook always attached to his hip, never leaving his side and never did you see him without it. whatever he wrote was of passions of words, your co-workers predicted it was for a lover he had, one overseas or one never intended to be his. beautiful and bittersweet. yet, when he had slipped the note to you with a warming, kind smile, you couldn’t help but read the note with fondness in your heart, “In just the right light, the cracks in his heart spell out, the word ‘beautiful’”

-

Meeting Thoma was as if life had brought the two of you together by accident, a beautiful, warming accident. taking your dog to the usual park was a treat for both of you: to inhale the present and future and exhale the past, to dispel your qualms. you didn’t think your precious little friend would go off and playfully attack another owner, ignoring his pet as she rolled onto her back for his attention only. you scrambled to grab your dog again, profusely apologising to the young man: handsome, blond, with gentle green eyes. “It’s no problem at all! I’m glad she’s eager to meet new friends. She’s just as cute as her owner.” even his laugh was warm like sunshine, and you craved to see him again one day, reminding yourself to go to the park more often

[writingtheafterglow]

holland + co. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

here you will find all my holland + co works !!!

✎ tom holland

speechless

You and Tom share your first dance at your wedding | fluff

best kiss

You and Tom win best kiss at the mtv movie awards | fluff

aloha

You're on your annual trip to Hawaii when you run into a certain celebrity | fluff

what the hell...icopter

your partner takes you on a date to a place you would never expect | fluff

rumored breakdown

all the rumors cause you and tom to get into a fight | angst, fluff

joan of arc

you and your band mates write a song and tom takes it personal | fluff

reggaetón lento

it started with a look, and then all of the sudden you came in contact with a popular frat boy | fluff, angst, suggestive, au

enough for you

tom hates that he put you in the spotlight, so he does this... | angst

crushing on the course

tom has a huge crush on y/n y/l/n. what happens when he runs into her in the last place he'd ever expect. | fluff

think about this...

tom hasn't seen his girl in a while but, that all changes when graham norton surprises him on the show. | fluff

what a simp

tom is a simp and his instagram shows it... | fluff, au

touch

after a tiring day at work, both you and tom come home, missing each other's touch. | fluff

✎ peter parker

spider like me

Spiderwoman (Y/N) has a huge crush on her partner Spiderman (Peter). Peter has a crush on the most popular girl in school Y/N Drew. Neither of them know the others identity. | fluff, angst

spidey's girl

spidey's girlfriend finally finds out who's under the mask | fluff

safety net

y/n, the new avenger, somehow found herself in a love triangle | fluff, angst

difficult

y/n and her dad get into a fight. peter is there to comfort her. | angst, fluff

official?

you and peter have a misunderstanding | fluff, au

oops

you do a lyric prank on peter | fluff, au

love sweet love

peter tries, everyday, to show you how much he loves you | fluff, angst, suggestive

you gotta not

you have high standards, can peter meet those standards? | fluff

all the stars

peter plans the perfect date for the two of you | fluff

✎ arvin russell

bad to you

you have a love-hate relationship with the boy you tutor | fluff, angst, suggestive

why don't I?

Arvin helps you out a little with your stage fright. | fluff

✎ series

bad ones

Why do you always fall for the bad ones? The ones who always make you sad? Well that's what you did, and it ended up with heartbreak. The person you thought was the one, didn't think the same. What happens when you write an album about your experience? Could it lead to even more of a problem or maybe a happy ending? | complete

saving dustville

You've had suspicions about your hometown, Dustville, being haunted for years. There's something different this year though, it seems unusual. With the help of your childhood friend, Tom, you uncover some of the towns deepest secrets. Along the way, you start catching feelings for your best friend. What will happen? | complete

under the mistletoe

High school is brutal, especially for Y/N. Everybody in school knew her as the "less-pretty best friend". That, however, was not the case for Tom. The school's most known jock, also Y/N's ex-bestfriend. What happens when Y/N needs his help to get her crush to go out with her? Will he help her? Will someone catch feelings? | hiatus

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

[littlepadika]

Hi!! Can I please request 💕Din, 🔥enemies to lovers, 💅dom!reader ??? Thank you!!☺️☺️☺️

OOOH I love dom!reader with Din mwahahaha this one is hot and takes a nosedive into soft. Your fave @axshadows?

500 follower celebration

Warnings: Male receiving oral, Dom reader

Din despised you. Whenever he'd be close to catching a bounty you would swoop in and finish the job yourself, stealing his thunder. You didn't do any work yourself. Din tried everything to shake you from his trail. He tried to lay a trap, he tried to split the reward, he even tried to kill you once. Nothing worked. You always slipped through his grasp.

Your conflict was coming to a head as Karga was tired of the constant bickering.

"Work it out you two or no pucks."

"Find someone else to steal from." Din glared up at you from his seat.

"But I like annoying you, Mando." You smirked. "Fine..." You groaned dramatically. "How about a deal? We both go after the same bounty. If you get him first then I'll leave you alone."

"You'll just come and steal it at the last second like you always do." Din shook his head.

"I'll play fair. I'll even give you a head start."

"I don't need a head start." Din leaned forward menacingly only you weren't scared at all. In fact you smiled.

"Let me finish." You held up your hands. "If you win, I leave you alone. If I win, things proceed as usual and you can't complain. Do we have a deal?"

"If I win, you should give me all the credits you stole from me."

"No way. Finders keepers."

Din grit his teeth under his helmet. Your little grin made something inside him ball up tight and sometimes he just wanted to throw you over his lap and-and- he didn't let himself think those things right now.

"I want a better deal." He folded his arms.

"You're not exactly in a position to negotiate. I'm perfectly happy with our current arrangement."

You loved playing with Mando, making him stutter and sigh. It started off as a power trip, making a Mandalorian putty in your hands. He tried to kill you once but he hesitated at the last moment. You realized his hatred for you wasn't pure, it was tangled with need. You knew he would miss you if you just left him by himself and you sure as hell would miss him too.

"How about..." You saunter over to him, perching yourself on the table in front of him. You saw him stiffen immediately, clenching his hands into fists on the seat below. "If you win... you can do whatever you want to me. You could try and kill me again, but something tells me that's not what you really want." You watched as the visor of his helmet turned towards you. You felt your heart pound faster knowing you had him in your grasp. "See... you could shut me up with a bullet in my skull or with your cock in my mouth. Decisions decisions, Mando."

With you left him dumbstruck at the table.

"Karga- We've reached a deal. One puck and we'll make it a race."

"One puck huh?"

"And don't make it an easy one." You hold your hand out. Karga rolls his eyes shoving two pucks into your hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a close one. Both of you were at the same cantina spying on the target. You happened to have more natural assests that drew the targets attention. What an idiot, you smirked ready to drop the sedative into his glass. What you didn't expect was for Din to blast the idiot to hell from across the cantina.

"I win." Din cheered, strolling up to pull the lifeless body off the counter.

"We said bring him in warm!" You glared at Mando.

"We never agreed on that."

"Didn't we?" You frowned.

Mando shook his head. He lugged the body over his shoulder with ease. "Come on, let's get out of here before the imps are on us."

Outside on the street it hit you that Mando won the bet technically. This would maybe be the last time you saw him if what he asked as reward was for you to leave him forever. The warmth in the pit of your stomach hoped that he'd ask for something different.

"You won, Mando." You stopped at the end of the street. He turned, the bounty still on his shoulder. "My ship is that way. Shall I take off never to return?"

The breeze made his cape flutter, but otherwise he was a statue. Conversely it made you squirm where you stood, tugging at your shirt which now felt too tight for some reason.

"No." He said quietly, so quiet you almost missed it.

"Then what do you want?"

"Will you let me put the bounty away before we talk?"

"Fine." You shrugged nonchalantly though you were still nervous. "Lead on."

You had never been on Mando's ship before. It was dirty and breaking down but it softened him. Gave him some personality. He was less intimidating. The clutter and dusty knick knacks made him so human.

"So..." You place your hands on your hips trying to project confidence though you were becoming more and more anxious. "What'll it be, Mando?" Was this the end?

Din was freaking out. He stood on a shaky pedestal he had built to stand up to you. He had only pretended to be arrogant and capable. He played into his appeal towards you but now the game had ended. He was proud of his abilities to catch bounties, track targets, to kill, but his confidence ended there. He had no skills when it came to sex let alone with pretty women like you. You expected so much from him from the way you teased and talked crudely. Din knew he’d never live up to that. He didn’t even know where to start. His desire was bottled up in him with no clear outlet. Just a general direction towards you.

"Mando?" Your gaze softened a little. You realized perhaps he wasn’t going to send you away. You almost smiled as he rocked on his heels. The nervous tick was strangely endearing.

"I'm not going to kill you. I want-" Din struggled to find the words. "What you said in the cantina. You said I could silence you..."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. What did you say? You couldn’t remember-

"When you said I could put my-my cock in your mouth." Din felt his cheeks heat up. He felt himself harden in is pants just at the dirty word.

"Did I say that?" You chuckled. “I guess I did. Is that what you want?"

Din nodded. He waited for you to take charge, tell him what to do, but for some strange reason you were waiting for him.

"You've never done this have you?" You realized, your smile falling off your face. You felt bad for how you treated him this whole time. Maker, you probably made him uncomfortable.

"No." Din looked down in shame. "Fuck-This was dumb. Just go away."

"Mando..." You stepped towards him placing a hand on his arm. The first time you've really touched him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't judging. Most guys don’t like me to be in charge.”

Din cringed further at the mention of your copious previous experience.

“Mando… look at me please-“ and he did feeling some of his dread subside. Your warm reassuring hand felt so good. “I'm happy to show you everything. I want to make you feel good. If that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled. He hated feeling so vulnerable. He wanted to explain himself, give excuses for his lack of experience, but the truth was he hadn’t found anyone he was interested in until you.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Now will you let me do this for you?” He looked at you, searching for honesty. There wasn’t a hint of disgust or doubt on your face.

Din nodded, feeling his stomach lurch in excitement. He felt safe with you which was another completely foreign feeling for him.

“Thank you, good boy.” The word shot through him, making him stand up straighter. You chuckled. “You like that?”

Din nodded shyly.

“Go and sit down.” You pointed at the crate against the wall. Din obeyed looking at you again for acknowledgement. You smiled kneeling down below him. “Good boy. See you’re a pro already.” Din blushed at your praise wanting to continue pleasing you. You slid your hands up his thighs slowly. “You can stop me at any point. Just say stop. My only rule is you have to tell me if I’m making you feel good. I wanna hear you.”

Din nodded his understanding. You raised an eyebrow. “Okay.” He said.

“Good boy. I know you can’t remove your armor which is fine. But can I take your cock out?”

Din nodded biting his lip. His dick was already straining against its confines. He exhaled sharply as you tugged down his waistband just far enough to pull him out. The only piece of skin exposed.

“You’re beautiful, Mando.” You cooed, stroking the warm length gently. You couldn’t wait to feel him in your mouth. A low broken cry cracked the voicecoder. “That’s it… feel good baby?” You stare right into his visor. Din swallowed harshly and nodded rapidly trying to keep from blowing his load.

“Tell me.” You reminded him of the rule.

“Yes!” He huffed. “It feels good. Please more.”

“We’re just getting started.” You promised opening you mouth and letting a dollop of saliva hit the head of his cock.”

“Oh Kriff…” Din pounded his fist against the crate. You continued your slow movements. You didn’t want to push him. He seemed lost in pleasure and you felt yourself warm at his trust in you. You slowly lowered your mouth on him, keeping your suction soft. He whined above you, his thighs flexing under your hands. You flicked your eyes up to him. His head was thrown back. You could see just a small slice of golden neck. He was sucking air between his teeth. The edges of the crate groaned under his grip.

“So-so good.” He mumbled between shallow breaths. You chuckled. He was trying so hard poor thing.

“It’s okay if you cum, Mando. I want you to.”

“But-“ Din’s hips jerked up into your hands. “What about you? I want to- I want-“

“Shh I know baby boy.” You chuckled at his eagerness. Already wanting to jump ahead. “We’ll get there but first you’re going to cum in my mouth.”

And almost on instinct he did, hunching over as ropes and ropes slid into your hot mouth.

“Oh fuck…” He croaked. It was better than anything he had done on his own. Your hot mouth and tongue had brought him so high only to let him plummet into his pleasure with no safety net. He was totally out of control. He didn’t hate it though. He loved it. He wanted more.

He came so much it made your pussy tighten longingly. His groans and sighs were gorgeous. You moaned, getting the last drops.

“Good boy…” You started stroking him back to full mast again. Surging with control and pride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My masterlist

Permanet Taglist: @ajeff855 5 @what-iwish-you-knew @kirsteng42 @fan-of-encouragement t @sleep-tight1 @pascalisfairyy @ceniington, @prettypedros 🧁, @pascal-rascal424 @axshadows @prideandpascal @frenchyjuju @pedrosmustache @blackmarketmummy @idreamofboobear @pretty-brown-eyess @persephones-garden @javierpinme @mylittlesenaar @bellaorisa @elinedjarin @beskarboobs @beskar-candy

Din Djarin taglist: @a-skov @pasckles

[companionjones]

Arrowverse Masterlist

*Barry Allen*

A Shake And Turbulent Ride ~ ☁️Remember, before they got the Speed Lab, that truck in that wide open area they used to test Barry’s abilities in? Well this is a story of a ride to that wide open area in that truck.

*Cisco Ramon*

Safety Net ~ 📝You were captured by Team Flash after helping some people rob a bank. Cisco comes to your cell to check on you after you scream for hours (maybe just to piss them off).

*John Constantine*

Here ~ 📝John comes to you for help in a place where you definitely don’t want him to.

In A Couple Seconds ~ 📬I will like to ask you for a Constantine debating with himself if he spend the night with this girl who he is having feelings for, risking her since demons are always chesing him or if he does as he always do and dispear into the night.

Legendary House Guests ~ ☁️One day, a strange group of people show up on your doorstep. Of course John Constantine would be behind it.

*Leonard Snart*

Cards and Conversations ~ 📝Pretty much as the title suggests.

He Couldn’t Lose You ~ ☔️You’re hurt on a mission. Leonard’s separated from you when you are, and he finally makes it to you while Gideon is working on fixing you.

Husband and Wife ~ 📝Leonard’s life keeps him away from you often, but today he found his way home to you. This visit means a lot more now that you two are newlyweds.

Mr. Snow Miser❄️ ~ 📱Snart texts you to tell you he’s back in town.

Speed Vs. Fire and Ice ~ 📬can you do a imagine where the reader is the twin sister of barry allen and in a relationship with Leonard snart she has fire powers please

Those Difficult Words ~ 📝Leonard needs to tell you something.

*Oliver Queen*

Visitor ~ 📝Oliver’s in prison, but you’re keeping things under control on the outside. You check in on Oliver, and catch him up on what’s going on.

*Querl “Brainy” Dox*

Ben and Jerry’s and Tom and Jerry and Brainy and Y/n ~ 📝You and Brainy have a lovely night in together.

Time Wasted ~ 📬May I request a Brainy x Reader Imagine? The reader has been dating him since the beginning of season 4, so maybe the episode (4x21) where he gets rebooted, instead of him acting cold towards her, he isn’t, meaning when he and Nia were kidnapped by the Children of Liberty, they also took the reader because she had been with them. The CoL kept her and Brainy together, since they figured out that the two were together. They made her watch as they tortured Brainy, and after he was rebooted and he fought the CoL, he saved the reader because he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

*Ralph Dibny*

(I wrote this well before those old tweets from Hartley Sawyer surfaced)

Talk To Me ~ 📝Ralph is concerned about you.

[sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter]

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

--

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

--

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

--

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

--

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

--

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

--

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

--

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

--

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

--

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

--

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

--

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Announcement - Alex Morgan X Reader

Prompt: Can you do a Alex Morgan imagine where her and R just announce their relationship (which have been going on for let’s say for almost a year and R is younger then Alex as well). And some fans don’t like that they are together and are mad about it. So R ends up going into a little of a dark hole (like being a hemit, not going out anywhere, not answering Alex phones calls, and also ignoring her as well, showing up for practice late, not playing good, ignoring everyone on the team including her Bestfriend’s/ Team moms Ash and Ali just not being R normally bubbly slef,) until someone on the team (Ali) shows Alex what the fans have been doing and Alex plans a day full of surprise for R to show her how much she love R?

“Dinner tonight? My place?” Alex asked Y/N as they walked out of the practice facility.

“Umm, I don’t know, I’m pretty tired Al. I think I’m just going to head home and go to bed early,” Y/N wouldn’t look at Alex. She awkwardly adjusted her backpack straps, her shoulders hunched over, watching the ground as she walked.

Alex grabbed her girlfriends’ elbow, tugging her to a stop. She glanced around the parking lot to see if anyone else was close to them. As Y/N turned around, keeping head down, nervously tugging the straps on backpack more. Alex reached out and tried to hold Y/N’s hand, Y/N pulled her hand away, stepping backwards.

“Y/N…”Alex trained off, eyebrows creased. Heart breaking when her girlfriend physically pulled away from her. She had been pulling away for the past week. Y/N was never interested in spending time together, hardly replied to texts, never answered her calls, avoiding her at practice, now Alex couldn’t even touch her. “Is everything alright?”  

“Uhh yea, of course, just tired,” Y/N nodded, still refusing to look up, shuffling her feet.

“It’s just, things seem weird between us.”

“Oh no, all good,” Y/N stiffly closed the distance between them, hesitating before placing an awkward kiss to Alex’s cheek before walking away. “I’ll call you later.”

Alex sighed and watched her girlfriend walk away, before slowing making her way to her car.

Y/N didn’t call Alex that night. Alex spent the night trying to find things keep herself busy, trying not to wait for her phone to ring. Finally, Alex caved as she got ready for bed, pulling up her text conversation with Y/N, hoping maybe she just missed a text from Y/N. Disappointed she hadn’t, she called her girlfriend.

Alex nervously paced back and forth next to her bed while she waited for Y/N to pick up the call. When it didn’t, she let out a groan, tossing her phone on her bed. She had no idea what happened between her and her girlfriend. They had been together for over a year, both teams had been incredibly supportive. Of course, some fans had started to speculate, but they always did. Everyone on the team had “dated” several other people also on the team, every look and touch was looked into and over looked in to. Alex and Y/N finally just stopped hiding it, confirming their relationship with a simple photo of them on Instagram, Y/N kissing Alex’s cheek, both smiling.

Alex didn’t think anything else about it, happy she no longer felt like she needed hide any aspect of her life. Y/N made her happy, Alex saw a future with the younger woman. She was proud Y/N was her girlfriend, she wanted everyone to know, wanted to show her off. After they posted the picture Alex had posted several other pictures of them, struggling to limit herself; she had so many good ones of them.

She finished getting ready for bed, calling Y/N one more time before going to sleep. Y/N didn’t answer again, this time sending Alex to voicemail. Alex pulled the phone away and glanced at the screen, sighing she put her phone on the end table and settled into bed, staring at the ceiling.

Y/N sighed when she saw her phone ringing again, she wanted to answer, she did. She wanted to talk to Alex, wanted to spend the night held in Alex’s arms, really wanted to explain to Alex why she had pulled away this week. Y/N loved Alex, she knew Alex was happy with her, that she made Alex happy in return. Y/N couldn’t agree fast enough when Alex said she wanted to stop hiding their relationship and announce it.

And then they did; they announced it. And then the comments came in. Lots of comments came in and they didn’t stop. Some were supportive, some said how happy they looked as a couple, how well suited they were for each other, some were proud of them, thanked them for the courage to come out themselves.

There unfortunately weren’t many of those, or at least not enough of them to make up for plethora of negative, offensive comments. So many people commented that their age difference was too significant. That Y/N was using Alex to advance her soccer career, to get more exposure. Fans said Alex could do much better, that Y/N was not good enough for Alex.

The fans were ruthless. Picking apart previous pictures, speculating other relationships. Tearing apart all of Y/N’s physical attributes. They didn’t hold back at all, they were ruthless.

It was everything she already thought, having other people seeing it, confirming it, was hitting her hard. Y/N had tried to avoid reading the comments, tried to avoid all social media. When that didn’t work, she turned her phone off entirely. But then she just sat and thought, which was worse than reading her phone.

So, she tried to keep herself busy. Her apartment was spotless. She went for a long run every night. She snuck back in their training facility to train. Everything she could do to distract herself; to exhaust herself so she could actually sleep at night.

“Did you get a good night sleep?” Alex sat on the chair next to Y/N the next morning before training.

“Oh, umm, yea, Y/N’s hands paused before continuing to tie her cleats, giving Alex a brief glance and a small smile.

“You look tired,” Alex commented, resting a hand on Y/N’s thigh.

“Thanks Alex, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” Y/N gave a sarcastic laugh, standing up and walking away before Alex could even say anything else.

Alex sighed and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes.

“You read the comments to then?” Ashlyn asked softly.

Alex’s eyes shot open, head turning quickly to the keepers.

“Comments?”

“Yea…” Ashlyn’s brow furrowed. “If it’s not the comments, what’s going on?”

Alex stared at Ashlyn for a second, expression blank, before she released another sigh and leaned against the wall. “Y/N’s avoiding me. What comments?”

Ashlyn didn’t say anything, just pulled her phone out, pulling up the photo Alex and Y/N posted a week earlier declaring their relationship. Alex gave Ashlyn a skeptical look before tentatively reaching for the phone.

Alex slowly scrolled through all the comments, mouth falling open the more she read, letting out a small gasp at the especially vicious comments. Having read enough, Alex hastily handed the phone back to Ashlyn.

“How could they say that about her? Us?” Alex had paled now; how had she missed this? “Is this why Y/N is avoiding me? You don’t think she believes any of this?” She shook her head, tears now threatening to fall.

“I don’t know, she won’t talk to me or Ali either. And she’s all over the place in practice, missed tackles, bad touches, you name it.” That Alex had started to notice. “Ali went out to warm up with her, she’s hoping to get her to talk.”

Alex quickly stood up, rushing out of the change room to find her girlfriend. As soon she got to the field, she saw Y/N already kicking balls at the empty net, no real intention other than aggression behind the kicks. The forward began to jog over to her girlfriend before she was intercepted by Ali.

“Fix this,” Ali said firmly, holding Alex’s arm to prevent her from moving forward.

“I’m trying to, Ashlyn showed me some of the comments. I had no idea,” Alex hung her head, guilt obvious in her expression.

“She won’t talk to me or Ash, but you need to remind her they aren’t true and how much you love her, how wrong every single negative comment is.”

Alex nodded along, eyes now watching her girlfriend across the field. She was already soaked in sweat, face scrunched as she focused, her jaw clenched tight, and the tension clear though out her body.  Seeing her like this and now knowing about the comments, she suddenly felt lightheaded. This was the woman she supposedly cared, supposedly loved, and she had missed how much she was clearly hurting, struggling.

Before Alex could get to her girlfriend, the rest of players made their way on the field, Marc starting practice soon after. As Marc gave his pre practice meeting, Alex stood as close to Y/N as she could, the lengths on their bodies touching. Alex could see Y/N glance towards her out of the corner of her eye, jaw clenching before she shuffled away. Alex sighed and shuffled with her, remaining as close as possible, this time loosely gripping the hem of Y/N’s jersey.

Y/N turned her head slightly to see Alex’s hand on her jersey but didn’t move away this time. Alex shuffled the smallest amount closer, angling her body so her front was pressed against Y/N’s side. She tugged on the jersey as she leaned up on her toes to reach Y/N’s ear, “I love you gorgeous.”

Alex heard the sharp intake of breath and the catch before she could release it, she felt the slight tremble suddenly taking over. The forward remained as close as she could, this hadn’t been the reaction she expected. She hadn’t expected any reaction really.

Y/N let out a grateful sigh and pulled away from Alex as soon as Marc dismissed them to start their warmup. She then proceeded to do everything she could to avoid Alex the entire practice.

By the time Marc called practice to an end Y/N was exhausted. She dragged her feet to the locker room, shoulder slumped forward, completely in her head and unaware of anything around her.

Alex took advantage of this, sliding her arm along Y/N’s waist, pulling herself into Y/N’s chest. Y/N stumbled slightly; Alex tightened her grip to keep her up. She felt her girlfriend go rigid. “Hey love of my life,” she leaned up placing a gentle kiss on the underside of Y/N’s jaw. “I’ve decided I am coming over right now; we are going to have a hot bath together and cuddle on the couch. We have tomorrow off, we can order in and not leave the couch the whole night.”

Now Y/N began to pull away, “I’m exhausted Alex, I just want to shower and have a nap on the couch.”

“I know you are, beautiful,” Alex’s arms remained firm around Y/N’s waist. “you look ready to fall asleep standing up, so let me help.” She wanted to add, maybe you’ll tell me what’s wrong, but didn’t want to push her luck. “We can cuddle, I know you always sleep better with me.”

Alex waited for some of the tension to leave her body, then saw the small nod as she looked up with hopeful eyes. “Perfect, I’ll come over now.” She kept herself attached to Y/N as they continued into the change room.

The couple silently through the parking lot to their vehicles after gathering their things.

“Umm I guess I’ll see you at my place then?” Y/N awkwardly stopped at her car door.

“You bet,” Alex smiled, trying to draw some kind of smile from her girlfriend, “I’ll order food when I get there while you shower.” Alex stretched up and kissed Y/N the cheek before turning and going to her own car.

Y/N didn’t even wait for Alex when they got to her apartment. Alex let out a breath as she watched Y/N rush out of her car and go inside without looking her way.

By the time Alex made it into the condo, Y/N was already in the shower. She ordered supper for the two of them before getting everything ready for them to spend the rest of the night on the couch, pulling out a couple fluffy blankets, lighting a couple candles. Waiting for Y/N, she nervously paced the condo, trying to figure out how to talk to her.

Y/N shuffled out of the bedroom a few minutes later, finally giving Alex a small smile when she saw the small set up in the living room.

“Hey supper should be here any minute, why don’t you get settled and I’ll bring it over,” Alex gave Y/N a small smile. Y/N nodded and tentatively moved to the couch, sitting on the far end and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on top. Alex watched, hating how uncomfortable Y/N looked in her own home now.

Alex brought the food over to the living room after it was delivered. Y/N didn’t even move while Alex pulled food cartons out. The silence tense and awkward. She shifted closer to Y/N on the couch, resting a hand on her thigh, “I got Italian, chicken parm for you, fettuccini for me,” Alex handed the container.

“Thanks,” Y/N rasped out. Alex kept herself close while they ate in uncomfortable silence, some random movie playing in the background.

Y/N placed her empty container on the coffee table, pulling her knees to her chest. Alex put her container down too, leaning into Y/N’s side, gentling pulling one arm off her knees to wrap around herself. Alex could feel the tension through Y/N’s body.

“What’s going on Y/N?” Alex whispered, rubbing a hand gently on her thigh. “Don’t tell me nothing, Ash showed me the comments.”

“Oh,” Y/N’s body deflated, she chewed on her bottom lip.

Alex reached up and rubbed her thumb along Y/N’s creased eyebrow, easing some of the tension, “none of it is true Y/N. I love you.”

“But,” Y/N started, releasing out a breath, “so many people are saying the same things Al, that must means it’s true, that they all see it too.”

“They’re just jealous,” Alex pushed herself up, so she was face to face with Y/N.

“I’m serious Alex,” Y/N grunted out, frustrated.

“So am I, Y/N. They are all projecting their feelings. You are living a life they want, living your dream, successful, happily in love. It’s what everyone wants, you have it and they don’t. So, they are tearing you down to make themselves feel better. Those things are all people hiding behind keyboards and screens, but I bet none of them have near the skill or drive or intelligence or passion you do,” Alex drew herself even closer, wrapping both hands around Y/N’s face and forcing her to make eye contact.

“So? You’re still so out of my league Alex, everyone else sees it. Maybe I am only getting called up because I’m dating you, because Vlatko thinks you won’t come or something,” Y/N tried to turn her face out of Alex’s grasp, fidgeting in her seat. Her anxiety spiking the more she spoke, the more she talked about her insecurities. She could feel tears beginning the build up behind her eyes, the urge to move becoming overwhelming.

Feeling her girlfriend beginning to shake, Alex shifted her hand down and began methodically squeezing the muscles, compressing them as she worked down her arms, all the way down to her fingers, tugging each one individually before moving back up.

“What do you need? To move or more compression?” Alex asked, sensing the building anxiety attack in her girlfriend. She knew Y/N needed to move around, that it help her think, process, that too much sitting made her anxious. She also knew that sometimes she needed the compression, needed her muscles to be squeezed tight. And that sometimes she needed both. But most importantly, she knew that Y/N needed to be given the option and the space to choose.

Y/N scrambled to get up, “move,” she mumbled beginning to pace, “both maybe,” she squeezed her fists, rapping her knuckles against her thigh.

Alex slowly got up and hesitantly approached her girlfriend, waiting to see what Y/N needed. When Y/N remained where she was, Alex closed the distance entirely, wrapping her in a tight hug. Alex just held firm, slowly beginning to sway them on the spot. They stayed that way for several minutes before Y/N finally began to relax in her arms, it happened slow than suddenly Alex felt like she was holding all of Y/N’s weight.

“Let’s go to bed beautiful,” Alex murmured softly into her ear, feeling her girlfriends breathing already slowing as she began to fall asleep, the small anxiety attack taking her last bit of energy.

Y/N nodded her head, hands tightening on the hem of Alex’s shirt, fingers scrapping the skin along with it. Alex gave her another second before pushing them apart and leading Y/N to the bedroom by one hand.

Alex began pulling sleep clothes for them both from Y/N’s dresser, when she felt a finger tap her forearm. She turned her head to see Y/N nervously chewing on her bottom lip, eyes focused on her finger resting on Alex’s arm, “can we, I like the skin contact,” her jaw flex as she clenched her teeth. “No shirts?”

“Of course,” Alex soothed, turning into Y/N’s touch, pulling her shirt off before reaching and assisting Y/N in removing hers. They both removed their pants and crawled into bed. Y/N blindly shot a hand out, gripping Alex’s hip to pull her to lay on top.

Alex understood Y/N’s intention, that she needed the weight, the heat of another body, the comfort of her familiar scent, the soft breath against her chest, and the gentle caress of her fingers along her hip bones. Y/N was asleep almost instantly, the past week of over training and under sleeping catching up to her. The comfort of having Alex with her settling her mind for the time being.

Y/N woke the next morning by Alex spreading kisses along her bare shoulders, her thumbs gently massaging her thumbs into her hips bones, slowly encouraging her to wake up.

Y/N sighed as she slowly awoke, burrowing her head under the pillow.

“Wake up Y/N/N,” Alex shifted the pillow out of the way, whispering in her ear.

“No,” Y/N grumbled, blinding reaching to pull Alex’s hand back to massage her hips, “more massage.”

Alex chuckled and began to work the muscles of Y/N’s lower back. She glided her hands up, working her shoulder blades, “how about a massage tonight? For now, Ash and Ali are going to meet us at the beach so you two fishies can surf.”

“I like surfing,” Y/N’s head popped up, her voice still thick and gravely with sleep.

“There she is,” Alex pressed Y/N’s shoulders, guiding her to lay on her back, leaning down to gently kiss her, “so that’s a yes to surfing?”

“Always yes to surfing,” Y/N sat up, hands on Alex’s hips, her mood already improving after spending the night with her girlfriend.

Alex rolled herself off, “then get up, time to go.”

Y/N got ready to go and was ready to leave the house in record time. She stood by the apartment door with her surfboard in hand, swim bag on her shoulders, she excitedly bounced on the spot.

Alex laughed when she walked to the door, “you look like a little kid ready for the first day of school.”

Y/N grinned back, a full smile spreading across her cheeks, eyes crinkling as it finally reached her eyes for the first time in days.

The couple spent the morning at the beach with Ali and Ashlyn; Y/N and Ashlyn spending majority of the time in the water. Once the two women were able to fish their partners from the water, Ali and Ashlyn left the couple to allow them to have the day together.

Alex guided Y/N along the boardwalk, leading her to small beach front café where they sat watching the water, having a peaceful brunch.

After brunch the couple returned home, “how about that massage now, then we take a nap for the afternoon?” Alex guided Y/N back to her bedroom, pulling her shirt off before getting a response.

Y/N nodded and let herself be pulled along, lifting her arms to let Alex undress her.

The striker pushed Y/N’s shorts past her hips, pushing her to sit on the bed before pulling her own off, leaving them both nude. Alex straddled Y/N’s hips, bringing their lips together she kissed her long and slow, tongue teasingly tapping her lips before pulling away entirely, “turn over,” she whispered, lips brushing but not quite touching.

Y/N did as she was told, Alex raising herself slightly to allow the movement, hands quickly finding the bare skin of her back.

Alex worked the strong muscles for several minutes, the silence only broken by Y/N’s sighs and soft moans, the occasional whimper when a sensitive spot was found. When Alex pressed on the spots that earned a whimper, she would lean down and gently press her lips to it, kissing it better. She gently guided Y/N’s arms above her head, working into the curve of her lats, gliding a thumb along each indented rib. Guiding her hands up the younger woman’s arms, she brought her body until her bare chest was pressed into Y/N’s back, interlacing their fingers at the top.

Alex turned her head so her cheek rested between Y/N’s shoulder blades, chin angled up so Y/N could hear her whispers, “how do you feel?” her lips brushed the skin.

Y/N gave a content moan, lips ticking up into a small grin.

“Good,” Alex whispered back, she released one hand to wrestle the blankets out from under them to cover them for a nap, “I know today won’t fix how you are feeling, but I hope you know how much I love you, and I will do everything I can do show you how much love you deserve. Promise me you’ll come talk to me instead of shutting me out next time? Even its just to tell me you need space; I’ll understand and respect whatever you need.”

Y/N slowly nodded, “I love you Alex.”

“I love you too,” Alex whispered back, “now go to sleep for now.” She tightened her hold, pulling Y/N closer to her chest.