#personally i always read her lines in a very cool and collected and serious voice. the timbre is soft and sweet but the tone is biting

[harrowscore]

falling asleep (or trying to. thanks insomnia!) to the harrow the ninth audiobook... and wow, the voice for ianthe is perfect. i love everything about it

[weepingvoidpenguin]

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 

Word Count: 8.3k

   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 

   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 

   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 

   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 

   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 

   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

   “All the easier,” 

~

   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 

   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 

   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 

   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 

  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.

   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 

   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 

   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 

   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 

   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 

   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

   Fuck.

   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 

   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 

   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 

   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

   “I’m not hiding myself,”

   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 

   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 

   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 

   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 

   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

   “Brat?” You snarled.

   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 

   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 

   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 

   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 

   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

   Water.

   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 

   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

   Why? Steve asked again.

   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 

   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 

   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

   “And what were you expecting?” 

   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

   “But are you?” 

   “Am I what?” 

   “Enjoying yourself?” 

   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

   “Thank you,”

   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 

   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 

   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 

   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”

   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

   “No,” he responded curtly. 

   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

   “No,”

   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

   Oh shit. Your job. The job.

   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 

   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 

   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 

   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 

   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

   “We?” 

   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

   The shuffling started again.

   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 

   Fight. Move. 

   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 

   “Wha-”

   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 

   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 

   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

   You nodded slowly, “I am,”

   Then a few more seconds.

   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 

   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

   “Not to my face,”

   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 

   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

   “I see your hands are exposed,”

   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

   “Stunning,” 

   “Smart?”

   “Genius,”

   “Good at her job?”

   “Amongst the best,”

   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

[fangirlfics]

Trouble Sleeping (Loki x reader)

I swear if this deletes for a third time Im gonna cry 

KINDA A SLOW BURN BOIS

also I didn’t finish reading it over for mistakes bc I’m lazy 

summary: y/n and Loki used to be very close friends and sometimes when she had bad nightmares he’d use his magic to calm her mind, a few years have passed and they’ve grown apart. Her nightmares come back and hesitantly she seeks Loki’s help again 

word count: 3,592 wahahahaha

y/n leaned over one of the balconies that overlooked the kingdom’s private garden. The weather was perfect, the temperature ideal, sky blue, and the plants were all thriving feet below her. Despite the scenery however y/n’s attention was fixated elsewhere. 

Down in the depths of the garden, propped up on one of the fancy golden benches was the youngest Asgardian prince-Loki. His dark raven hair was combed back as he turned to the next page in his novel, the cover matching the shade of green displayed on his clothes. y/n couldn’t help but sigh as she watched the handsome prince, they had once had an unbreakable bond. It was always Loki and y/n-best friends, one wouldn’t be seen without the other. But somewhere among their late teenage years, Loki had become more cold and distant towards y/n-leaving her alone in the giant halls of the castle to wander alone. That’s when her and Thor’s relationship grew stronger-she had always been friends with the God of Thunder but after her and Loki’s relationship crumbled to pieces he was there to cheer her up. 

“Oh there you are!” Thor’s voice boomed-pulling y/n from her daydream. y/n glanced once more at Loki before turning her attention to her tall friend. “I was looking for you!” He beamed. 

“What can I do for you, your highness?” y/n asked with a playful voice.

Thor smiled, putting his hands together before continuing, “I was hoping that you would join me and-” his words faded as he glanced down to the gardens and caught sight of Loki. y/n’s attention soon turned to the railing in front of her as she traced her fingers along it’s smooth surface. “You still watch him.” Thor told her, his normally enthusiastic voice was now dry and serious. “How long have you been thinking of him?”

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, playing with her fingers. “I never stopped.” She confessed, “I know it’s foolish but I can’t help it, I..miss him more than I can even begin to explain.”

Thor was silent as he watched the girl glance back down at the gardens then to the sky. “Let’s go...horseback riding.” He suggested, getting y/n attention. “To lift your spirits, we can go with Sif a-”

“No.“ y/n blurted out, “nobody else-I don’t want to embarrass myself again by falling off my horse.“

Thor chuckled, “nobody is going to think low of you-” he looked at y/n once more sensing her silent plea ”very well then, just us.” He agreed, making her smile.

“Thank you.” She laughed, giving him a hug. It caught Thor by surprise but he then loosely wrapped his arms around y/n in return. “Thank you for everything,” y/n whispered, “really, I don’t know what’d I’d do without you. I’m blessed to have a friend like you.”

“Of course.” 

Neither of the two friends noticed that down in the gardens Loki clenched his jaw, snapping his book shut and silently retreated to his room-they also didn’t notice the pair of blue eyes staring through the window at them, when they returned laughing on horseback. 

_____________________________________________________________

 There was fire everywhere, thick black smoke made it impossible for her to breath. She was choking-desperate for air. She fell to the ground as the fire closed in quickly-it’s heat trapping her in the room. There was no hope, no help was coming and it was impossible to escape, with a loud crack the ceiling caved in leaving her trapped screaming out as the furious flames burned her alive. 

y/n woke up with a start, beads of sweat lined her forehead although her room was cool and she found that her hands were shaking. Realizing it was just a dream she lied back down, covering her face with her hands as she tried desperately to fall back asleep. She got no more sleep that night.

The same thing happened again in the coming days and three days later while in training, y/n who was running on less than four hours of sleep was doing rather well. In one quick movement she jumped up-kicking the sword right out of Fandral’s grip. 

“Very good!” Volstagg commented from across the room.

“Yes.” Fandral agreed, “show me that move and I’ll show you some of mine.” He winked.

“Just give me a time and place.” y/n responded playfully, earning a laugh. 

“Impressive.” Fandral commented at her response. (she normally responded to his joke flirting with an eye roll) 

“Yes impressive.” Loki commented from behind Fandral. “That y/n can apparently chase after two men at once.” He said this while staring casually at Thor. Sif went stiff inder the tension and Thor opened his mouth but y/n spoke first.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Well by the looks of it, you can’t seem to decide between Thor and-” 

“Brother that’s enough.” Thor warned, taking a step forward.

“I’m just putting out a warning, you do know what they say about these sort of things.” Loki remarked, not meeting her eyes.

“You know full well that I am not chasing after anyone.” y/n said, growing aggravated. 

“It sure seems that way.”He then opened the door to the room and left.

“You know what?” y/n responded, dropping her sword to the ground with a loud clang “I am tired of this.”

 “y/n I think it best if you ignore him.” Sif spoke up, “nobody is accusing you of anything, we all know you aren’t that sort of person-”

“Thank you Sif, but I am not taking this.“ y/n exited the room in pursuit of Loki, who was a few paces ahead of her walking calmly. 

“I don’t like being followed.“ He simply called out to her, because his room was only about a minute walk away from the training room he reached it fairly quickly.

“What is your problem?“ y/n asked him, putting her foot in between the door and it’s frame as Loki was about to shut it.

“I don’t have a problem, now if you’d excuse me I’d like you to leave me alone.“ 

 “Then leave me alone.” She huffed, “hold your silvertongue and stop acting as if you’re above me because you’re not.”

“Is that all?“ He asked her calmly, “you’re done with your childish tantrum?” 

“Oh you are so-“ y/n narrowed her eyes.

“So what?“ Loki asked with an eye roll.

“Terrible.“ y/n blurted, earning a cold laugh from the God of Mischief.

“So I’ve been told.“ He stated bored.

“No, I mean you’re really terrible and for so many reasons.”

“Such as?“  

“You want a list?“ y/n asked with a bitter laugh, “ok well you think you’re better than everyone and you’re not, you poke fun at other people because it’s amusing to you and-and everyone-I mean everyone thinks that you’re a snake, ever since we were younger, and I can’t believe I’m just now realizing that..they’re probably right.“ He swallowed hard furrowing his eyebrows, “you used to be my best friend Loki, I’d defend you from people’s accusations when you weren’t around and..I wasted my time because you are everything people say you are and worst.“ She saw the look in his eye, she hurt him-good now he understood how it felt. 

Loki glanced away-looking down at the girl again. “Is that all?” He asked, trying desperately to remain collected. y/n scoffed. “You may think you know me but I know you much more, don’t forget, I’ve been inside your head. People may think I’m a bad person but I can live with that, you on the other hand can’t stand the fact that someone might not like you, so much so that you’ll break down about it. You’re a weak fighter, you’re not as clever or as witty as you seem to think, and frankly I don’t understand the fascination Thor seems to have with you, you’re nothing special.”  

y/n pulled her foot from the doorway. What happened to us? She was about to cry and she did not want him seeing that. “Is that all?” She asked, reciting his previous question.

“Yes.“ He spat coldly. 

“Good.“ She turned to walk away as Loki stayed in his place trying to keep the impression that he didn’t care.

Late at night y/n tossed and turned in her bed, trying to fall asleep after waking up from a particularly realistic dream-she had thought that by laying still she’d trick her body into falling asleep but that didn’t happen. She knew that she had been able to power through the last few days with almost no sleep-but she’d certainly crash if she didn’t get any sleep soon. The thought of making a visit to Loki for help came to her mind, but she really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she wanted/needed his help. Screw it. She thought after another couple of hours, her clock read 2:35 as she swung her legs over her bed and slipped on her slippers and robe. 

The halls were dark and empty except for the occasional guards, which she was careful to avoid (she didn’t want to raise any suspicion). Thank God her room was only a three minute walk from Loki’s. It was once she was already in front of Loki’s door that she started getting second thoughts, but she was there already and the worst that could happen was getting the door slammed in her face or no answer. She raised her cold knuckle, letting it hover over the door’s fine wood before knocking. “It’s y/n..” She announced barely above a whisper, “trust me I really don’t want to ask for your help but I see no other option an-”

The door opened a small crack. “you do realize what time it is, right?” Loki’s annoyed voice asked-he didn’t sound like he had just woken up, maybe he was having trouble sleeping also.

“I know.” At her response Loki opened the door wider, revealing himself in a pair of emerald colored pajamas. “Look I know-” at the sound of approaching footsteps (guards) Loki stepped aside, giving her a cue to get in. She did, turning to face him one he closed the door again-his back facing the door he put his hands on his hips.

“What do you want?”

“I can’t sleep.” She said sheepishly, “I just-I’m getting the same nightmares again and I thought that maybe just this once you could, you know..” She put hands up, wiggling her fingers to imitate magic.

Loki rolled his eyes, “first off that’s not at all how magic looks, second why should I help you?”

“Just this once!“ y/n practically begged, “please. I’ve have not been sleeping at all I just need one hour. I won’t make you sleep on my couch like I did when we were younger, you can just...alter my thoughts or something and I’ll leave and-” 

“Fine.“ Loki agreed, grumpily. He walked back over to his bed, getting in between the covers on the left side. “Well?“ He asked when she stared blankly at him. He rolled his eyes again, “Obviously if you go back to your room I won’t be able to sense when I have to alter your thoughts and you’ll just come back to make a racket when you have another nightmare.“ y/n nodded slowly, making her way to the right side of the bed. “Besides it’s a big bed, just stay on that side-away from me.” She laid down, hesitant at first as she tightened her robe around herself. Loki leaned over, placing a finger and thumb over her temples to enter her mind. 

When she woke up she was in the same exact position that she was in when she went to bed and Loki was standing directly above her looking annoyed once again. It was still dark outside as he looked down at her from where he stood. “It’s about time, I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last two minutes.”

“What time is it?“

“6:05..the castles about to start waking up, you should leave before more people get uo to avoid being seen.“ y/n nodded in agreement. 

“Ok“ she walked to his door, turning to watch as he laid back down in his bed. “And Loki..“

“What?“ He sighed.

“Thank you.“ She said softly, leaving the room right after. Loki was left surprised.

“Look I know I said just once-” y/n whispered that night outside of Loki’s door, it was past 2 a.m. again, but surprisingly Loki let her in again.

“The faster you stop pestering me, the better.“ Loki told her harshly. He had woken her up at 6 a.m. again like he had done the the last time. The time after that Loki woke her up at 7 and the time after that she had woken up past 8 to see Loki sitting in a chair some feet from her sharpening his knives-when she had asked him why he hadn’t woken her up he had simply reminded that he could just teleport her back to her room, that way nobody would know she had spent the night there.

Flash forward a month later, y/n tiptoed to Loki’s room in her nightgown again, the nights were getting hotter which had led to her to leave her robe behind. When she had reached Loki’s room she didn’t need to knock, since he now left it unlocked for her. 

Once she laid down on the right side of the bed (more towards the middle now rather than all the way on the edge) Loki laid down about a foot from her. They didn’t go to bed right then however, since they had formed a habit of talking before falling asleep. “Have you been sleeping better?” Loki asked the girl beside him.

“yes.” 

“Good...”

y/n rolled onto her side to face Loki, “Thank you again.” He nodded. “You know for someone who hates me, you’re actually quite kind to me.” The corner of Loki’s mouth folded up slightly,

“I don’t hate you...” He rolled over onto his side to face her, “but what I do hate-“ he then had explained the entire plot of a book just to express his hatred for one detail in it. 

y/n woke up in the middle of the night with a start, her nightmares had came back. As it turned out Loki wasn’t in the room but when he got back with a glass of water he noticed she was off right away. “I’m sorry.” He quickly apologized, sitting beside her, “I was just-I didn’t think-”   

“I know, it’s fine.“ y/n told him, but his hand was still on her shoulder and his blue eyes still held worry in them. “I’m just-I’m going back to bed...“ Loki nodded, watching as she laid down again. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?“ She nodded.

As she began drifting off she felt Loki take her hand in his. Later on in the night y/n woke up randomly, but she wasn’t facing Loki anymore-instead she was facing his dim window, she felt warm but not from the covers and to her surprise she realized that the prince’s arm was around her waist, keeping her close. Their legs were tangled mess at the bottom of the bed and she could hear his slow breathing as he slept peacefully. She looked around slowly, trying to figure out a way to move away to avoid the embarrassment when he wakes up-but just as she began to shift around she heard him speak up. “What time is it?” up. 

“Sorry...” She apologized growing red, “I don’t know how-“  

“It’s fine.“ She heard Loki whisper. 

“It is?“

“This is quite comfortable.“ He whispered again, then he moved slightly closer-resting his head on her shoulder and he fell asleep again-she assumed that he was half awake and didn’t fully process what had happened. She decided it didn’t matter and fell asleep again, after all he wasn’t wrong-it was comfortable.  

There was a loud noise that woke y/n right up, making her jump. Now she realized that she was facing Loki again, her arms were wrapped around his neck like in a hug, his head was nuzzled in the crook of her neck-their legs still a tangled mess. Bang! Bang! There it was again, she lifted her head, looking towards the door as it came again-bang! Bang! 

“Loki” She whispered, gently shaking his sleeping form. He ignored it, pulling her closer in response instead. “Loki, someone’s at the door.” She whispered, trying not to laugh. He sighed looking up towards his door.

“Just ignore it, they’ll go away it’s probably a servant or-”

“Loki!” Thor’s voice came from the other side of the door, “Loki, I know you’re in there! Open the door.” Loki rolled his eyes, standing up to make his way towards the door. 

He opened the door a few inches, “what do you want?” He hissed.

“I-” Thor paused, “are wearing your nightwear?”

“Why is that of any importance-what do you want?”

“er, Loki is there someone in there with you?“ Thor asked. 

y/n held her breath, afraid that somehow Thor would hear her from the doorway. “I-no!” Loki snapped, “What are you talking about?”

“Alright, alright I apologize. I’m here to ask if you have seen y/n? I’ve been searching for her, she’s normally turned up somewhere at this time it’s past 10.” 

“No I don’t know where she is, I haven’t seen her. Check the garden, she’s most likely wandering around there.“ He shut the door, turning back to y/n. 

“Past 10?“ y/n asked, covering her mouth, “I should’ve been awake two hours ago.” Loki shrugged. “Can you teleport me back to my room, I should go to the gardens since Thor’s looking for me.” Loki looked at the ground with an unfamiliar look in his eyes before nodding. “Thank you.”

The girl had spent more time with Thor training than she had expected that day, leading her to take an extra long shower at night to get clean. She hadn’t realized until she looked at her clock that it was past 10-normally she’d already be at Loki’s room by now. Quickly she dried her hair and changed into her nightwear. 

She was about to leave and opened her door and unexpectedly Loki was there with his hand raised looking like he was about to knock. They stared at each other for a moment before she spoke up, “Loki? What are you doing here?” 

He glanced to the side, not wanting to meet here eyes as she awaited his response, “I thought..” he said glancing at the ground before back to her, regaining his composure “that you-“

“Weren’t coming?“ She finished for him, he nodded.

“So I came to see if you were ok, I’ll leave.“

“Wait, no.“ She told him, grabbing his wrist and taking him by surprise, “I was just coming it was just taking me longer, but you can sleep here if you want since you’re already here...?” He nodded in agreement, stepping into her room.

He settled himself into the bed, opening his arms for her to crawl into which she quickly did. The two laid there for a moment, listening to the quietness as Loki slowly brushed through her hair with his fingers.      

“remember the other day when I said that you were terrible?“ y/n suddenly asked, getting Loki’s attention. He stopped running his fingers through her hair. 

“Yes, why do you ask?“ He responded cautiously. 

“I was just mad at you. I’m sorry.“

He took a moment to think to himself, “I didn’t mean what I said either."

“Can I ask you something?” y/n asked after a while later.

“What?”

“Why did you push me away?” She asked, shifting herself to meet his eyes.

Loki sighed-only it wasn’t from being aggravated this time. He backed up a few inches from y/n-staring straight up at the ceiling. “It’s because..”

“Because what?”

“I had noticed that you and Thor were becoming closer and decided to..abandon you before you did me. I thought it’d hurt less that way.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, everyone always seems to choose Thor over me, I just assumed you would, in time, do the same.“ He confessed, still not meeting her gaze. 

“Loki...“ she set her hand on his shoulder waiting for him to look at her. “I would never abandon you for Thor, sure Thor is my friend but so is Fandral, so is Volstagg, so is Sif and I’m not abandoning anyone for them.“

He nodded.

“And tonight..“ y/n spoke up again, “when you thought I wasn’t coming-“

“I assumed you wouldn’t need me anymore, especially after you had spent so much time with Thor.“

“Loki!“

“What?“

“Don’t be like that!“ y/n told him, sitting up, “I do need you! I’ll always need you, I need you don’ t doubt that, and not just because of stupid nightmares, because I care for you and I love you, ok?”

Loki smiled to himself, “you love me?“

“Yes you stupid-“ she stopped talking because Loki had leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss, taking no time to hesitate she leaned into him further deepening the kiss. After about a minute they pulled apart-resting their foreheads together. 

“I love you too.“

[jazy3]

Free Guy Review

!!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

If you haven’t seen the movie Free Guy (2021) stop reading right now! Drop what you’re doing and go get yourself a ticket! You’ll thank me later!

I loved this movie! I saw it this weekend for the second time because it’s that good! I first saw the trailer on YouTube a while back and then when theatres reopened a few weeks ago I saw the trailer again and my interest was piqued. I had high hopes for this movie based on the fun looking trailer, the premise, the cast, and the sense of fun and escapism that the movie seemed to embody and it did not disappoint. It’s always nice when you have high hopes for something and it meets or exceeds your expectations.

Free Guy is just such a fun and joyous movie. Never taking itself too seriously, packed with lots of heart, cool cameos, full of gaming and pop culture references, and it’s fueled by a unique concept that is well executed. There are just so many things I loved about this movie! It was a ton of fun to watch and the actors clearly had a blast making it. During the movie I kept trying to figure out where I knew most of the actors from but couldn’t place them. When I got home, I googled it and I instantly realized why. The roles are just so different and the actors embody their characters so completely you lose yourself in the film and get completely sucked in. I was honestly so surprised when I figured out what I knew most of the actors from because the roles that they’re known for are so different from their characters in the movie. Their appearances, established ages, and even the accents are so different that I literally did a double take, but that’s what makes the movie so good! Because the main actors obviously didn’t need the paycheque they were just there to have fun and it shows. I think if the situation had been different and the actors involved had been desperate for money or took the role for some other reason it wouldn’t have worked. The film would have come off as cheesy, forced, cringeworthy, or just plain bad. Free Guy is none of those things. The film stars Ryan Reynolds as ‘Guy’ a bank teller in a video game called Free City, Jodie Comer whose best known for playing Villanelle in Killing Eve as programmer Millie Rusk and her avatar Molotov Girl, Joe Keery whose best known for playing Steve Harrington in Stranger Things as programmer Walter ‘Keys’ McKey, and Taika Waititi whose best known for playing Viago in What We Do in the Shadows as the Head of Soonami Studios and the film’s main antagonist and villain Antwan. Rounding out the cast are Utkarsh Ambudka as programmer Mouser and Lil Rel Howery as Guy’s best friend and bank security guard Buddy. In a nutshell, Free Guy is about a bank teller named Guy who finds out he’s a non-playable background character (NPC) in an open-world Grand Theft Auto style video game called Free City. Guy becomes the hero of his own story after meeting Millie, the girl of his dreams, and winning fans all over the world by racking up points by being the good guy and helping others. After leveling up and helping Millie escape a dangerous situation in the game, Guy wins her over and she falls for him thinking that he’s another player. But when the world that Guy knows and all of the people in it are threatened, he teams up with Millie to save his friends before it’s too late. In the real world, Millie enlists the help of her former programming partner and best friend Keys in a race against time to stop their code and all of the sentient characters from Free City from being deleted by Antwan the developer who stole their code when the game’s sequel launches. I love that the movie had a unique premise and didn’t overcomplicate things. There are so many movies that I’ve gone to see over the last few years with such excitement only to be disappointed. For example, I loved Wreck It Ralph, but was so disappointed by its sequel Ralph Breaks the Internet. The trailers made it seem like it would take the premise of the first movie and move things into the online gaming world, and I was excited for that. Instead, the sequel left the premise of the first movie behind entirely and way over complicated the plot and the end result was extremely cheesy and disappointing. Free Guy’s strength is that it’s a self-aware movie made by self-aware people who are excellent at what they do. The movie doesn't take itself too seriously, nor should it, and that allows the story to flow and the characters to feel real and genuine. The movie achieves that perfect balance between being entertaining and telling a cohesive and important story because while the movie never takes itself too seriously the people behind it are serious about what they do. This was very clearly a passion project for all involved, especially Ryan Reynolds, and it shows! As he’s spoken about in interviews and on Twitter, Reynolds called on a lot of his friends to be in Free Guy and help him out and the end result was fantastic! I loved all of the cameos! The Chris Evans cameo was by far the funniest and the Alex Trebek cameo got me right in the feels. When I saw the movie in theatres me and everyone else in the theatre gave a collective “awww” when he appeared on screen. Enlisting real YouTubers to show up as fictional versions of themselves to talk about Blue Shirt Guy’s popularity was a nice touch and you’ve also got blink and you miss it voice cameos by John Krasinski, Dwyane The Rock Johnson, Hugh Jackman, and Tina Fey. Channing Tatum appears as the avatar of player Revenjamin Buttons which for the most part was hilarious. One of my few criticisms of the film is that they went a bit overboard the avatar’s antics as Guy and Buddy are attempting to leave and it got bit a cringeworthy. But I know other people found it hilarious so to each their own. I love all of the little details and references in the movie. Just listing them all would be a post in itself. If you’re someone that loves pop culture references and Easter Eggs this is the movie for you. The characters are fun and believable, and you get attached to them quickly. The actors commit completely to their roles which is makes the humour, romance, and heartfelt emotion of the film work. You buy it. 100%. Something that I absolutely loved was that the characters felt realistic and that the dialogue, attire, and settings for each character really felt authentic. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched a movie or TV show and walked away thinking, “The person who wrote that clearly never meet a kid, teenager, or twenty something in their life! That was so unrealistic.” The slang’s all wrong. The dialogue is so eloquent everyone sounds like they did Shakespeare in the Park last summer. You walk away thinking, “What the hell was that? No one talks that way!” What I loved about the characters in Free Guy is that they felt like real people you could actually run into or walk past on the street. I’ve read in interviews that in addition to the written dialogue the cast did a lot of ad-libbing and improvisation and the end result is both hilarious and relatable. The dialogue feels real because it is. The big exception to this of course is Antwan who is altogether off the wall and ridiculous. Antwan is such an outrageous, absurd, vulgar, and cartoonish character. He’s so fun to watch and the actors clearly had a lot of fun with his scenes! I’ve read that a lot of his lines with Keys and Mouser were improvised and I believe it. When he goes all Jack Nicholson on the servers? Lord. He’s such a great villain to watch. The characters that are established to be in their twenties like Millie, Keys, Mouser, and the other employees at Soonami Studios talk, act, and dress like they’re in their twenties. The actors that are in their forties are styled to look like they’re in their thirties and honestly, they’re in such great shape it works! I mean I was honestly shocked to find out Taika Waititi’s real age. I love how the costuming really fits each character and allows you to learn more about them. Keys’ clothing is your typical gamer chic which makes because as we learn from his interview with Millie coding is his life and what gets him up in the morning. From Mouser’s clothing we learn that he’s a sports fan, but also isn’t afraid to take risks like with that blazer ensemble he wears in his final scene at Millie’s apartment.

Millie’s clothing shows the contrast between her and her avatar Molotov Girl, and Antwan’s ridiculous coat enhances the overall wackiness of his character. Guy’s clothing tells us something too. He wears the same thing every day until he meets Millie in the game at which point, he starts deviated from his Free City programming and chooses a different blue shirt. I also really love that they put thought into why Keys needs to wear glasses. Something I noticed on rewatch is that Keys is far sighted which is why he has his glasses on when he’s looking at his laptop or computer and sometimes when’s talking to other people, but not when he goes to see Millie at her apartment or when he goes to get them coffee at the end of the movie. Another interesting aspect of Keys’ character that I noticed on rewatch is self-confidence is really something he struggles with in contrast to Millie and Mouser who are very confident. Millie is a genius programmer and Mouser is excellent at what he does, and they are both very confident in their coding abilities, but Keys isn’t despite being every bit the genius that Millie is. At the beginning of the movie when they first notice the issue with Guy Mouser jokes that Keys needs to be better at his job. In response Keys meekly says he thinks he’s pretty good at his job and trails off at the end. Mouser is just joking around, but because Keys lacks self-confidence comments like that hit him hard. Mouser is moving towards his own desk as he talks so he doesn’t notice how self-deprecating and uneasy Keys’ response is. In the interview from the indie games conference that Millie plays for Keys at his apartment, he brushes off the interviewers comment that he’s a genius and says Millie is the real genius because she created the AI engine and he just wrote the code to make it work. Later on, when Keys helps Millie get into the stash house, she calls him a genius and he tells her that as he’s currently sitting on a toilet stealing user code he doesn’t exactly feel like one. Millie responds offhandedly that he never does, but luckily, she knows better. When Keys realizes that Millie was right, and that Antwan did steal their code and their game worked he tells Millie they need to celebrate because once everyone sees their build she’ll be celebrated and she could win a noble prize. Both Millie and Keys are geniuses in their own right. The game wouldn’t have worked without both of their skills and Guy wouldn’t have come to life without both of them working together. Millie’s AI engine made his sentience possible, but Keys is the one who gave him hopes and dreams so that when he met Millie in the game, he came alive. When done right the settings we see tell the story just as much as the characters do and I love how realistic the settings in Free Guy look. The floor at Soonami Studios where Keys and Mouser work looks like a real office and I love that the desks have clutter and personal effects on them like real cubicles do and that they show Keys taking a box of his stuff with him as he leaves. The lobby with the moving water videos and Antwan’s massive but largely empty office fits perfectly with the obnoxious, zany, and over the top character that he is. I also love the contrast between Keys and Millie’s apartments and how those settings tell us a lot about each character and where they are in their lives when the film starts. When Keys comes home from work to find that Millie has broken in, we see that he lives in a stylish one bedroom apartment with an open concept kitchen full of stainless steel appliances, a large living room centred around an expensive wall mounted TV and entertainment system, with his computer and gaming station set up in the corner. On the walls we see artful clusters of black picture frames, through a partially open door we see a bedroom off to the side, the apartment is full of black and white furniture including a plush couch and nice lamps, and features a textured silver accent wall. All of which makes the fact that Millie managed to break in even more impressive because it is clearly an expensive apartment in a nice building. Keys’ style is minimalist and upper scale and based on what we learn about the events that took place before the start of the movie this indicates that Keys got the apartment and all of the nice stuff in it using the money he received when Antwan bought his and Millie’s game. In contrast, Millie lives in a bachelor apartment and spends her time in coffee shops ordering one single black coffee over four hours. This tells us that she kept her original apartment that she had from before the game was sold and is living off the money she got from the sale while she spends all of her time trying to find the proof she needs to win her lawsuit. When we see Millie’s place, we find that it’s cozy, full of plants, throw rugs, quilts, and comfy furniture. She’s got a bike in the corner, you can see her bed from the centre of the room where she’s got her computer and gaming station set up adjacent to the coffee table and the rest of the living room furniture. Her kitchen is smaller and full of wooden cabinets and her bathroom door has DIY multicoloured square panels on it. Keys and Millie’s apartments are very different and through these settings we see the contrast between where these characters are in their lives, their wealth, and their personal style. The song ‘Fantasy’ by Mariah Carey is featured heavily in the film and is guaranteed to get stuck in your head in the best way! Jodie Comer’s cover of it is amazing! It fits the moment where Guy makes it to the island that is Millie and Keys’ original build and shows it to the world perfectly. This movie made me appreciate Mariah Carey’s music in a whole new way and I can’t be the only way. After watching the movie, I went looking for the song on Apple Music, wound up listening to the Mariah Carey Essentials Playlist, and I’ve become obsessed. I knew some of her hits, but after listening to her music more I get why people love her so much. Her five octave vocal range is amazing, and her music is just so fun to listen to. The film has a really great soundtrack overall and I’ve had many of its song on repeat since I saw it. Something I really loved about this movie and the reveal at the end that Keys is in love with Millie and is desperate for her to notice, but she’s been oblivious the whole time is that they don’t do the supposedly nice nerdy guy whose really a jerk trope. So many movies do this where you have a nerdy male character whose unluckily love, looked over, or his love is unrequited, and we’re supposed to root for him because he’s a quote “nice guy”. But really, he’s not. He’s a jerk who feels slighted because a woman in his life doesn’t love him back or notice him and he feels as if she owes him something. The scene at Millie’s place where Millie tells Keys he looks cute when he brags, and Mouser encourages him to tell Millie how he feels is super frustrating to watch but it’s so important to Keys’ character. He asks Millie out for coffee and when she turns him down to jump back into the game, he doesn’t make a big deal about it even though Mouser wants him to. Instead he gets up and goes and gets her a coffee anyway. She goes to tell him her order, oblivious to the fact that he’s memorized it, he tells her he remembers, and goes to get the coffee anyway much to Mouser’s and the audience’s dismay. This is big because Keys clearly doesn’t want to be walking down the street by himself to get coffee. He wants to be getting coffee with Millie so that he can tell her how he feels to see if she might feel the same way, but when she turns him down he goes and gets the coffee anyway because he truly loves and cares about her and he values their friendship enough to put his own feelings aside and suffer in silence rather than lose her and what they’ve built. So, he takes the opportunity to get some air rather than continue to sit there in disappointment. Which is why he’s so confused when Millie runs after him and calls out to him from across the street. He doesn’t understand what she’s doing there. She turned down his offer to get a coffee and he already knows her order so why is she there? I love that they chose to make that scene non-verbal. I think if Millie had come out and made some big declaration of love it would have felt cheesy and overdone. But her running after him and silently communicating through her smile and body language that she understood and that she felt the same way was perfect. It was subtle and beautiful and perfectly acted. It also felt realistic to the characters because in real life when you’ve known someone a really long time and you’ve spent a lot of time with them you don’t always need words to convey what you mean. What Millie wanted to express in that scene was so big and so all-encompassing she couldn’t find the words to say everything that she wanted to say so she didn’t. She just stood there and smiled knowing that being the genius that he is he would understand. It’s like Keys says in their interview, words will fail you, but code never does. His coding worked and now she understands so rather than try and say it all and fail she just looks at him and smiles to show him that she finally gets it. She finally understands what he’s been trying to say to her all this time. And you can see the exact moment Keys realizes why she’s there. The moment where he goes from being confused as to what she wants to realizing that she saw the video and she knows how he feels and that she wouldn’t be standing there smiling at him like that if she didn’t feel the same way. When I watched the scene the first time around, I was anxiously clutching my nachos the entire time because when Keys ran towards her my immediate thought was, “Oh my god he’s gonna get hit by a car and they’re never gonna get to be together! Oh my god!” But then he didn’t get hit by a car and Millie ran out to meet him and for the first time in their relationship she met him halfway and they kissed and it was beautiful! I think because Free City had so much violence in it that’s where my mind went and I’m very glad they didn’t go that route. One of my only criticisms about the movie is that I wish they had stayed on Millie and Keys just a little bit longer. They kiss and embrace and then very quickly they cut to black. I wish they’d linger on that moment just a little bit longer because I love those characters so much and in the scene that follows where Guy and Buddy are reunited we see them hug and then walk away together to start their new lives and I wish we’d gotten just a bit more time with Millie and Keys. I also really loved the parallel between the different kinds of relationships within the movie and how platonic relationships are just as important as romantic ones. The reveal at the end about Guy being Keys’ creation and a love letter to Millie and her realizing she’s been loving Keys vicariously through Guy and them finally coming together and being on the same page is beautiful because from the very beginning the movie is full of clues, hints, and foreshadowing that all comes together at the end. Meanwhile, we see the friendship between Guy and Buddy and how important that friendship is to him because it’s something that he created on his own. His love for Millie is born out of the programming that Keys gave him, but his friendship with Buddy is something that Guy created all on his own of his own volition. Which is part of what makes Buddy’s death on the bridge so tragic. I cried when Buddy disappeared. Reynolds and Howery play their characters with such sincerity that his death pacts an emotional punch you don’t expect. I love that the security guards at Soonami are so moved by Buddy’s heroism and are so captivated by what’s happening with the live stream that Millie is able to sneak past them into the server room and stop Antwan from destroying what’s left of the game. Something else I noticed on rewatch is that during the final battle after Millie gets booted from the game and Guy has to fight Dude on his own the glasses he’s wearing are very similar to the ones Keys wears in the movie which I thought was a cool nod to Guy being Keys’ creation. This really is a movie in which you find something new every time you watch it. For instance, the second time around I noticed that the foreshadowing that Keys is in love with Millie, but she’s oblivious to it because she’s so focused on the game was really well done. In the video from the indie game conference that Millie plays for Keys at his apartment when asked by the interviewer about their chemistry Millie responds first and says that their friends, their relationship is completely platonic, and laughs off the idea that they have chemistry. In contrast Keys falters and is silent and then eventually says meekly that they’re just friends. Millie is looking ahead at the interviewer and to the side away from Keys as she’s laughing and so she doesn’t see Keys’ reaction. At the end of the apartment scene after Millie breaks in to ask Keys for his help, he tells Millie he cares about her and he almost says something else. It feels like he’s about to say, ‘I love you’ but then he catches himself and instead tells her that she needs to leave. When Keys visits Millie’s apartment to tell her that she was right and they’re sitting on the couch he reaches out and puts his hand on her knee and then snatches it back when he realizes he’s gotten too close. He wants so desperately to be closer to her and in his excitement, he gets closer than he normally would before realizing that putting his hand on her knee in that close proximity is not a platonic gesture. Millie is so caught up in the realization that Guy, the person she’s fallen in love with, is an AI and not a real person that she doesn’t notice. My heart broke for Keys in that scene as he realized that Millie had fallen for Guy and kissed him and was so upset about it and meanwhile, he was right in front of her desperate for her to see how much he cares. It must have just wrecked him to go home that night and realize that Guy was based on the lovelorn character he created and that Millie had fallen in love with his creation while at the same time being so oblivious to his real world affection for her. In the scene at Millie’s apartment after they’ve gotten the server from Antwan and Mouser encourages Keys to say something, I noticed on rewatch just how weak and meager Keys’ attempt to ask Millie out is. He stumbles his way through asking her to get a coffee and trails off at the end so it’s no wonder Millie doesn’t clue in that he’s trying to ask her out. And in Keys’ defence he sent her a whole video confessing his feelings for her and all of the little things he loves about her and then told her to watch it and he has no idea if she did or not. We the audience know that Millie only saw half of it, but Keys has no idea if she saw none of it, part of it, or all of it. He knows she got Guy to remember, but she’s also sending him mixed messages. One minute she’s saying he’s cute when he brags and the next, she’s turning him down for coffee to talk to Guy. From the outside it’s so obvious that Keys is in love with Millie, but she doesn’t see it because she’s always looking the other way, not paying attention, so caught up in the game, and too focused on their work to see what’s right in front of her. On rewatch one of the big things I noticed is that Keys is always on the edge of telling Millie how he really feels but he always stops himself because she brushes him or the idea off and because he’s scared of what will become of their work and their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same way. It’s a huge leap. If Millie doesn’t feel the same way it’s going to make their relationship incredibly awkward and could potentially destroy their partnership so Keys decides it’s better not to say anything or only hint at how he feels rather than run the risk of ruining everything. Something else I noticed on rewatch is that in the interview they give Keys says he thinks of himself as an author and that code is what gets him up in the morning and that he loves the ones and zeros of binary because words can fail you and let you down but code never does. At the end of the movie when Millie goes to talk to Guy in Free Life he tells her that he loves her and while he knows that’s his programming he’s realized that he’s a love letter to her and that somewhere out there in the real world is the author. Such a great callback. All in all, I can definitely say that Free Guy has been my favourite movie so far this year! Definitely my favourite movie of the summer. I went to see it twice in theatres and I’ve never done that for any other movie before. I’ll rewatch them at home sure, but I’ve never actually paid money to see something twice on my own. I’m very excited to see the sequel and my hope is that it will be just as good as the first.  Until next time.

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 7

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Bai Ming and Zhang Yiqing

After Bai Ming and Zhang Yiqing met, Zhang Yiqing once asked Bai Ming a question. He asked him: "What are your dreams?"

When he heard this question Bai Ming immediately beamed. He met Zhang Yiqing’s eyes and answered earnestly and solemnly, "my dream is you."

At this, Zhang Yiqing was momentarily taken aback.

"I'm seriously asking."

Bai Ming, "and I'm seriously answering."

Bai Ming indeed was serious. Before encountering the doors, he'd already been a fan of Zhang Yiqing, obsessively devoted to that handsome man onscreen.

Bai Ming collected Zhang Yiqing's every movie, every drama, and every commercial. And when he found out that Zhang Yiqing was quitting the silver screen to direct behind-the-scenes instead, Bai Ming went crazy for a good long while.

During that while, nobody in their organization dared to go through doors with him. They all knew Bai Ming was the sort of person capable of doing anything on a bad mood.

Back then, Bai Ming had not yet been the boss of their organization. He had just been a plain and simple door-crosser, though the potential he emanated often gave his fellow door-crossers the sense that he was no small-pond creature.

Bai Ming's family situation was more complicated. He'd lived at an orphanage since youth, and had only been found and brought back home after he turned twelve. Only then did he learn that his father was actually a rich man, and the reason his father brought him back had nothing to do with paternal devotion, but rather because his brother needed a healthy liver.

This sort of bloody melodrama was what befell Bai Ming.

The truth was, prior to actually meeting Zhang Yiqing, the two of them had seen each other once before.

It was at a cocktail party hosted by the Bai family. Bai Ming had stood in a corner, small and thin, and watched as a smiling Zhang Yiqing chatted with his father. Zhang Yiqing had been young back then, and had just recently snagged Best Actor—there was still a touch of youth in his appearance, but the unparalleled splendor of his later years could already be seen.

Bai Ming had stared at him for a long time, many thoughts flashing through his mind. At this point he was already a fan of Zhang Yiqing's movies, but was too nervous to just walk up and start talking to him. He could only gaze from afar.

And later, Bai Ming met the doors, so he'd thought that there was only ever to be the one encounter between he and Zhang Yiqing.

But fate was always an extraordinary thing. After many years of hard work, Bai Ming had staked out quite a position for himself in the world of the doors. One day, a good friend suddenly asked him: "Bai Ming, you like Zhang Yiqing, right?"

Lit cigarette hanging between his lips, Bai Ming vocalized a lazy, "mh."

"He's started entering doors too," his friend told him. "Want to consider taking him on?"

Bai Ming's head twisted to stare at his friend.

"What did you say?"

Looking innocently back at him, his friend repeated himself.

Bai Ming extinguished the cigarette and laughed, "this isn't a joke, is it?"

Of course it wasn't a joke. The moment he saw Zhang Yiqing again, Bai Ming knew that his dream was about to come true.

Zhang Yiqing, who had retreated behind the scenes, was no longer as tender as he'd been in his youth. He was no less handsome, however. Like an aged bottle of wine, he and his charms had not faded with time, in fact had begun to emanate a unique fragrance of maturity.

All competent people have arrogance, and Zhang Yiqing was a proud standout in his industry. He'd taken the laurels for Best Actor four times, not to mention countless other awards, both large and small. The year he turned to directing, the country had even nominated him for Best Director.

The only shame was that after encountering the doors, his fate was forced to take a sharp turn.

"Hello, I'm Bai Ming." The two sat face-to-face, and Bai Ming held a hand out to Zhang Yiqing with a smile. His smile was sincere, and paired with that harmless-looking face, there really was no visible aura of an apex predator about him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Naturally, Zhang Yiqing was fooled by Bai Ming. He took Bai Ming's hand and said, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Zhang Yiqing."

"Oh," Bai Ming nodded. "I've seen your movies."

Zhang Yiqing smiled politely. He likely thought Bai Ming was just a normal fan, or perhaps not even that—Bai Ming may just be an audience who had seen his movies in passing. But much later, when Zhang Yiqing saw that room stacked full of his own works, he would finally realize that Bai Ming was nowhere as harmless as he made himself look.

Of course, at this point, Zhang Yiqing was not aware of anything. He saw the headful of natural curls, the unsophisticated grin, and really took Bai Ming for a gentle-natured young man…

At this point Zhang Yiqing even failed to understand why everybody in Bai Ming's organization was so scared of him, to the point where Zhang Yiqing thought there really must be a misunderstanding…

Inside and outside the doors, Bai Ming did not change much. His personality stayed genial. When confronted with malicious words or even malicious people, he was never even vicious in return.

Sometimes, Zhang Yiqing even thought Bai Ming was being too nice, and would step up to protect Bai Ming.

"You're too well-tempered," was something Zhang Yiqing once said. "Nice people get taken advantage of. Harbor no intent to hurt, but preserve all instinct to caution!"[1]

Bai Ming listened to Zhang Yiqing's reprimand and said, beaming, "Zhang-ge's right to scold me."

Zhang Yiqing didn’t know what went through his head then, but seeing Bai Ming's well-behaved smile, he reached out and gave that head a pat. Only after touching Bai Ming did he realize the gesture didn't seem quite right, and so he coughed once, before explaining, "it just looks good to touch."

Bai Ming just blinked his eyes noncommittally.

Bai Ming's hair was extremely fluffy and truly peak touch quality. Just seeing it made people want to pet it. But there really weren't that many people who’d dare to pet a tiger—Zhang Yiqing was one of few, though at that time, he had yet to discover the fact that Bai Ming was a ferocious beast, and not some adorable kitten.

But fake was fake in the end—Zhang Yiqing was no idiot either. By the time he became aware of the incongruities about Bai Ming's person, the two of them had already grown closer.

Zhang Yiqing had noticed the oddity and even joked about it, saying, "Bai Ming, how come I've discovered that anyone who crosses you gets struck with misfortune?"

Bai Ming batted his eyes at this.

"Don't they deserve it?"

At his smile, Zhang Yiqing froze. Zhang Yiqing had only been joking, but after careful thought, a layer of cold sweat began to dot his back. Because as far as he could remember, ever since he and Bai Ming started entering doors together, those who had wronged Bai Ming were not simply "unfortunate," they were all…dead.

That's right, dead. Dead via various odd accidents. Some things may seem accidental on the surface, but—upon multiple occurrences—could no longer be mere coincidence.

Incidental became inescapable after a certain point.

Having realized something, Zhang Yiqing looked once more to Bai Ming, and found that the young man who was once so easy to read now seemed something of a stranger.

The good thing was, that feeling only lasted for a moment, because Bai Ming grinned and scooted closer again.

"Zhang-ge, come get hotpot with me tonight?"

"Sure," Zhang Yiqing agreed.

The relationship between the two of them was still ambiguous at this moment, but one could die at any time inside the doors. Zhang Yiqing saw clearly Bai Ming's devotion to protecting him, and so the two got closer and closer—until one day, when Zhang Yiqing went to a party.

As a heavy hitter in the entertainment industry, there were naturally many people lined up to take a ride on his coattails. That was why that day, a coworker introduced him to a beautiful young woman.

Though Zhang Yiqing rejected her immediately, Bai Ming, who'd come along for fun, still saw everything.

Oddly enough, against Bai Ming's gaze, Zhang Yiqing felt a sense of guilt. The party hadn’t even been over when Bai Ming pulled Zhang Yiqing alone into a break room. Zhang Yiqing wanted to resist at first, but discovered that he wasn't at all Bai Ming's opponent—he was picked up and brought along as if he were a sack of rice.

"Does Zhang-ge have someone he likes?" was what Bai Ming asked him.

Zhang Yiqing said, "no."

"No?" Bai Ming said. "Then what's the deal with her?"

Watching Bai Ming's expression, Zhang Yiqing had the thought that the person before him seemed a bit drunk. He licked his lips, and spoke hoarsely: "I don't like her."

"You don't like her, but you'll still have her?" Bai Ming asked.

Zhang Yiqing opened his mouth, wanting to explain. But when the words got to his lips, the pride in his bones was for some reason set off by Bai Ming's accusatory tone. He lifted his chin and, with a cool expression, forced down the anxiety deep in his chest.

"So what if I will?"

Bai Ming pressed a hand to his lips, got closer, and hummed, "but I'll get angry."

Zhang Yiqing's brow furrowed.

Bai Ming, "I'll get very…very…angry."

Zhang Yiqing was just about to ask and so what if you get angry when Bai Ming shoved him onto the break room sofa. Bai Ming's fingers picked apart the first button on his shirt, and the man looked down at Zhang Yiqing from high above. His voice when he spoke was colder than anything Zhang Yiqing had heard from him.

"I don't want to wait anymore."

Zhang Yiqing's eyes went wide. This was the first time he became aware that Bai Ming and that harmless youth he thought he knew were two completely different people.

"Zhang-ge," Bai Ming said. "I like you. Do you like me?"

Zhang Yiqing swallowed, and he didn't answer Bai Ming's question. He only said, "calm down a second…"

Bai Ming watched him. "You also like me, right? You just don't want to admit it…But even if you don't admit it, that’s alright." He smiled, as handsome as an incubus. "It's fine as long as I like you."

Everything that happened after that was unspeakable.

By the time Zhang Yiqing once again regained consciousness, he was limp all over. Bai Ming had him wrapped up in blanket and was placing him into the car. Seeing him wake, Zhang Yiqing beamed.

"Zhang-ge, you're up? We're headed home now."

Zhang Yiqing wanted to speak, but found his voice nearly gone. He recalled something, and a smudge of red appeared over his cheeks as he grated out: "Animal."

Bai Ming batted his eyes. "Zhang-ge, are you calling me big?"

Zhang Yiqing, "…" He surrendered.

Bai Ming, "no worries, it's only 3AM. There's still plenty of time when we get back."

Zhang Yiqing wanted to retort, so Bai Ming caught him by the lips. Bai Ming's kiss was rough enough to turn his mouth an evocative red.

Zhang Yiqing went dizzy with the kiss. It was only then that he had the faint realization that he…seemed to have caught the attention of someone incredible.

Translator’s Notes:

害人之心不可有，防人之心不可無; idiom that literally means, “you can’t have intent to hurt people, but you can’t not be guarded against people.” The two phrases have parallel rhythms Chinese (note the four middle characters are identical), so coming up with a translation that mirrors that to some degree is both fun and difficult.

[Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(3)] | [Extra: Tan Zaozao]

[collecting-stories]

Tears Won’t Cry - c. 07 - JJ Maybank

Summary: You and JJ have sex for the first time and you hear something you’d rather not.

A/N: This chapter clocks in at a whopping 5.8k...I took some serious time with it so I hope you guys like it and, as always, thank you for reading. 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ We’ll borrow happiness just for the night ✞

The more you thought about JJ’s offer the more tempting it seemed. Doing chores around the house, cooking, doing lessons, practicing piano for church, it didn’t matter what you were doing, that little voice in the back of your mind crept in, telling you that going with JJ would be the ultimate freedom. You wouldn’t have anyone telling you what to wear or who to talk to or what to do. 

Your mom would tell you that was the voice of the ‘enemy’, the great evil that had turned Eve from god and caused immeasurable destruction. Every time the outside world came a little too close to the bubble your parents had created your mom claimed it was the work of the devil, persecuting her for her beliefs.  

And didn’t Jesus spend forty days and forty nights in the desert resisting temptation from the very same devil? Hadn’t you been brought up in the church, taught the way of the Lord and encouraged, every day to resist those temptations that threatened your way of life? But here you were, spending every waking moment consumed with the idea of JJ. Maybe Jesus had survived out there but you were sure you couldn’t, not having been with JJ the way you had.  

The one cardinal sin of your family, maybe more than anything else, was premarital intimacy. Sex was supposedly only good if you were married and then only intended for reproduction or for pleasing a husband. It was, according to both your parents, the most sacred part of yourself that you could give away. And even with the amount of thought you had given it, the careful consideration of your feelings and your future, you imagined burning in a holy fire or turning to salt like Lot’s wife were the only options left for you if you ever told them that you had given that part of yourself to JJ.  

-

You had mulled over the decision for three nights, had even considered praying about it though you were sure that wasn’t the sort of prayer you addressed to God, but on the fourth night you were certain. Sitting there on the non-bunk bed in your room, listening to the sound of the faucet running as JJ brushed his teeth. You knew nothing about flirting techniques or subtle seduction...you really didn’t know anything about sex at all. Your approach so far, with every part of your relationship with JJ, had just been straightforward.  

So, you were straightforward again. When JJ came out of the bathroom, shutting off the hall light and leaving your door slightly cracked the way you had told him you liked it to be, you sat up more against the head board, “I think I’m ready.”

“For?”  

“For...us to have sex.” You stumbled over the words, sounding less sure out loud than you were in your head. You knew this was what you wanted; JJ was what you wanted. Even if you loved someone else someday down the line you wanted this moment to belong to the two of you.  

“Right now?” JJ asked, hand still on the door knob.  

“Well. I don’t really know how to initiate sex so…whatever you usually do.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.  

JJ let the door stay open, leaving it to cross the room and sit down on the side of the bed. You moved closer to him, sitting sideways and letting one leg hanging over the edge, toes brushing the cold hard wood as you stared at each other. Maybe that was all that would happen, you would stare for a while, both too unsure to make the next move, until finally just resigning yourselves to sleep. JJ had always been confident in bed but this was different, everything about it felt like he was treading in uncharted territory, emotionally there was no way back from this once he jumped off the cliff.  

He  brought his hand up to your cheek like he’d done a thousand times before, leaning forward to kiss you. He could taste the floral chapstick you had on, a little tacky against his own lips as his tongue ran across your bottom lip. You had kissed before, made out with him pretty heavily, and though you still felt timid about somethings you tried to push that aside, shifting closer to him while breaking the kiss, biting his bottom lip as you did, JJ’s eyes opening for a second in surprise. The surprise gave way to pleasure as you kissed his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt out of the way with your nose in an attempt to access more skin.  

“Here,” Eager to witness you in charge of this moment, JJ broke away to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. You smiled, a quick kiss to his lips before you were back to his neck and shoulders, the skin there tan and freckled from the sun. JJ hooked his hand under your thigh, pulling you toward him until you got the idea, hooking an arm around him for stability as you straddled his lap.  

You resumed your work, alternating between leaving light kisses over the freckles on his shoulders and bruising the skin around his collar, gentle first and then eager and insatiable. Your other hand rested against his abs and you could feel his breaths under your touch, heavy and impatient. You were too afraid to ask him if anything you were doing felt good because you were afraid it didn’t. You knew you couldn’t kiss him forever but you would’ve been happy too, his skin was warm and when you scraped your teeth against his collar the moan he let out sounded heavenly. You could’ve listened to him for an eternity.  

JJ caught your face in his hands, kissing you again and then leaning his forehead against yours. He liked you in control but right then, “can I?” He asked, one hand going to the hem of the shirt you were wearing for bed.  

“Yeah,” you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed anyway, you were happy to let him lead. Before he could pull the shirt off, you let your leg drop off the bed, finding solid ground and stepping backward off his lap. JJ pouted, grabbing at you but you backed out of his reach. You gripped the hem of your shirt, keeping eye contact with JJ as you lifted it over your head, dropping it down by your feet.  

You had imagined plenty of times that the first time you would ever undress in front of a guy it would be on your wedding night and it would be a dress that they were unzipping you from. Instead, it was an old gray t-shirt with a pun about Jesus on the front that your brother Robert had gotten at a youth retreat. Nothing special by far. But JJ looked at you like you hung the stars. He reached his hand out, grabbing yours and pulling you back to the bed. He stood you between his legs, hands on your hips.  

“You alright?” JJ asked, looking up at you and smiling, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. He was sitting there, staring at you almost entirely naked, standing in front of him and he felt like his mouth had gone dry. Frozen in some form as just the person who gets to look and he knew what a momentous thing that was for you. Just to let him see you this way.  

You nodded, resting one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek and he turned his face into your palm to kiss you. The confirmation that you were okay and that the look in your eye was one of complete desire and love was the only motivation that JJ needed, pulling you into his lap again, his hands running up to your waist to hold you as he brought both of you further onto the bed.  

In the prelude to sex JJ had plenty of opening lines, commentary on how hot a girl was or how she made him feel but as you kissed him again, twisting off his lap so your back was on the bed and you guide him on top of you, it all felt indescribable. JJ settled for an “I love you,” whispered into your skin as he pressed his lips to your collar, one hand moving up the expanse of your stomach while the other held him over you.  

“I love you too,” your response sounded breathless, a result of JJ’s trail of kisses down to your chest. His right hand groped your right breast, thumbing brushing over your nipple repeatedly  as his mouth closed the other one, pressing his tongue flat against it. The sensation was enough to have you squirm under him, tensing slightly, biting down on your lip as you griped the shorter hairs at the back of his head.  

He pulled away, the cool area of the room chilling you as he switched his concentration, kissing just below your breast before his mouth to the other, hand moving to hold your side as you moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Your so sensitive,” JJ commented, tone conveying the awe he felt as he continued to lavish your breasts with attention.  

JJ kissed you like it was an art form, like you were something delicate and he wanted to take his time to savor every part of you. His mouth moved across your stomach, kissing parts of you that you harbored insecurities about. He stopped his appreciation of your body when he reached your underwear, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you. Waiting. He’d moved himself almost off the bed, halfway to a kneel your legs hanging off the bed on either side of him. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking down at him as he smiled at you.  

“This is what you want?” He had to be sure, wanted to hear you tell him you wanted him as much as you trusted him, as much as you loved him.  

“Yes.” You felt the rush of a chill down your spine as JJ kissed the inside of your right thigh, his fingers slipping around the hem of your underwear to pull them down. Nothing spectacular, in fact-

“It’s not Thursday,” JJ laughed, reading the printed text on the front of your underwear. A gift four years ago, you still retained half the collection.  

“Saturday sort of, got ruined by an early period.” You laughed, lifting your head up again, “is there usually this much talking during sex?”  

“Shush,” JJ teased, nipping at the sensitive skin below your stomach. Though he didn’t say it then, any girl he’d been with before had kept themselves some level of shaved but you had obviously never felt the need to. It was no real difference to him, or so he discovered as he kissed the insides of your thighs again. As he did he pushed your legs a little further apart slating them on either side of his shoulders. You were still propped up on your elbows, watching him in fascination. No one, yourself included, had ever touched you like JJ was.  

The most comprehensive sex education had skimmed over details of actual sex, promising that your future husband would know your body well enough to teach you about it on your wedding night. If Timothy had even crossed your mind while this was happening, you certainly wouldn’t have drawn any conclusions to him being this skilled.  

You moaned unexpectedly, surprise laced with something else, something far more primal as JJ parted your lower lips, middle finger gently running up your slit, coating it in pre-cum, ghosting a circle around your clit. Your right thigh brushed his arm and moved onto his shoulder as the minute sensation had you trying to close your legs. JJ leaned his head against the same thigh, turning just enough that he could brush a kiss against your skin.  

“I got you.” He promised.

As he continued, thumb brushing over your clit as he worked in slow circles, savouring the moment, hyper aware of every twitch, moan, or movement of your body, you fell back off your elbows. You laid flat on your back, hands gripping at sheets as JJ fingered you. He picked up the pace of his thumb, pressing a little harder as he did, his middle finger slipping back into your entrance, the movement slow but still making you jerk slightly, pressing your heel into his back.  

“It’s okay,” JJ shushed, kissing you leg down to the apex of your thigh, “your okay.”  

You hummed in response, in no position to use any actual words. He slipped his middle finger further inside, slowly letting you adjust to the feeling. JJ had never been this careful during sex but couldn’t deny that it was arousing in itself, taking his time, focused solely on the way you felt and not some endgame-moment-of-ecstasy. He added another finger and you squeezed your eyes shut, tensing at the feeling for a split second but it left just as quickly as it came.  

JJ was off his knees, hovering over you, kissing your nose and then your mouth. “It’s okay,” he promised, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you were already breathing heavy, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at him. JJ’s expression softened as he moved again, hooking an arm around around you and helping you sit up, pressing his lips to your forehead.  

“Not tonight?” He asked, before you could even form the words. He climbed onto the bed more so he could sit you in his lap, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it over your head as you caved into him.  

“I thought I was ready.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around him, “I just-“  

“It doesn’t have to be right now…it doesn’t even have to be soon. Whenever you’re ready.” JJ replied.  

“Yeah but what about you?”  

JJ shrugged, “I’d be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me.” He admitted, “it’s not…I mean you said yourself, sex is something really important to you and, I like having sex but it’s not like that for me so…I can wait. I’m not going anywhere. You should feel like it’s what you want it to be.”  

“Can we just lay here for a while?” You asked, shifting so you could move up the bed to get beneath the covers. JJ followed suit, letting you get between him and the wall.  

With the covers up around the both of you, JJ laid on his side, head propped propped on one hand while you held the other, fingers twirling the bracelets on his wrist. A familiar one stood out, buried under intricately knotted friendship bracelets, the neon green peeking through. You pulled at it, revealing the black ichthus that was stitched onto the cheap plastic thread.  

“This is mine?” You almost laughed, holding his hand closer to your face to get a better look.  

“I know,” JJ admitted, “I stole it the first night you let me in your room. I saw it on the desk and took it.”  

“I’m not sure a WWJD bracelet is something you would need to consult on a daily basis.” You said. Of all the non-Christian people you had encountered in your seventeen years, JJ was the furthest from the church you could think of.  

“Why, what does it mean?” He asked, pressing his nose against your jaw, kissing the underside of your chin.  

“What Would Jesus Do.”

“See,” he teased, “I thought it meant ‘what would JJ do’.”  

“I think that would be WWJJD and no one would want to take that advice.” You replied, letting go of his hand to pull him into a kiss.  

JJ hovered over you as you deepened the kiss, one hand at the back of his head, keeping him close as you imitated his earlier actions, tongue running across his bottom lip. You grabbed his free hand, resting on your hip, and dragged it up, pushing it under your shirt and onto your stomach.  

“Can we see where this goes?” You asked, pulling away enough to look in his eyes.  

“Anything you want.” He promised.  

JJ’s movements were as slow as they had been last time, concealed now by the blanket that was over the two of you. He stayed close, where you could see him, kissing your neck, collar, face, lips, as he slipped his fingers into your still slick entrance.  

You moved your hands down to the waistband of his shorts. He’d changed into a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in, easier access than the cargo shorts he had on earlier. When your hand slipped past his waistband he pressed his face into your neck, his fingers stilling for a moment inside you.  

“I should tell you, I have no idea what I’m doing,” you mentioned, voice still breathless.  

JJ was tempted to tell you that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose it. “You don’t have to do anything,” he replied, kissing your throat.  

“I’ve never actually seen…” you trailed off, flustered at the thought. “I mean, in a textbook.”  

“This is the hottest pre-sex talk ever,” JJ teased, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he pulled his fingers out again, “someday, I’m gonna make you cum.” He said.  

Your eyes widened as he licked his fingers, smiling at you as he sucked them clean. JJ flopped down next to you, pushing his shorts down without any care in the world. You covered your eyes with your hands on instinct almost and JJ laughed, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands down to his mouth so he could kiss your palms.  

“Come here.” He instructed, guiding you to straddle him, watching as you sat over his thighs. “Let me show you?”  

This, JJ decided as you wrapped your hand around his cock, thumb smearing pre-cum at the tip, was arguably the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. He closes his hand over yours, guiding you as you stroke him, your eyes focused on the way his body responded to you. JJ’s chest and face were flushed red from arousal, his own eyes trained on you as he tried to keep his control over the situation. He didn’t want to spook you again, wanted to keep you comfortable. He had never been one to tap out early when it came to sex but he wasn’t sure how long he would truly be able to last. The condom that he’d found in his backpack after you told him you wanted to have sex and he went digging sat on your bedside table and he reached for it now.  

When he was sure you were ready, he moved your hands to his stomach, telling you to brace yourself on him. You followed his lead as you sat up onto your knees, one of his hands gripping your waist as he guided you down on his cock, the stretch of your walls around him lessened from the angle. You moaned at the feeling of him, short breaths filling the air as you gripped his sides.  

“Fuck.” You whispered the curse word, only the second time you’d ever said it though for a reason just as fitting as the first. You couldn’t think of many others that could’ve described the feeling you were experiencing.

There were a million things JJ wanted to say as he stared up at you, a thousand emotions pressing against his chest, each more in love with you than the last. He would’ve frozen this exact moment if he could’ve, just stayed like this for an eternity because how was he supposed to see you get engaged to someone else after this. Before he could get too in his head you shifted your weight forward, rolling your hips and lifting yourself up just enough that when you came back down, walls clenching around him, JJ’s hips jerked up and his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin.  

“Shit, holy shit.” He muttered, coaxing you to repeat the motion. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips again. “Just like that.” The third time you tried it JJ’s grip didn’t let up, instead he took the lead, picking up your pace for you. Once you seemed to catch up to the rythmn of his movements, trying your best not to overthink anything and just focus on him, JJ dropped one of his hands. You jerked at the feeling of his fingers pushing passed your folds, thumb finding your clit again and rubbing against it.  

“Oh my god, JJ,” you moaned at the feeling of him overtaking your senses, your stomach tightening as he thrust his hips up to meet you, almost falling out of the rythmn he’d been keeping as you crested, orgasming first. Loud and panting, your hand slipped and you almost collapsed on him, the shifting angle and the way you clenched around him sending him over that edge with you.  

-

It hadn’t felt anything but natural when it happened and with anyone else you didn’t think you would’ve felt as comfortable with yourself as he made you feel. JJ didn’t rush, he wasn’t impatient or self-serving. You’d read once, in a book you read sequestered in the library away from any eyes that might recognize you, about a rather steamy romance. The book was trash but you remembered that feeling of utter confusion as you read and re-read the line about feeling ‘worshipped’. How could any one person worship another?  

The question answered itself in the way that JJ held you in the afterglow. And the pure, unadulterated bliss he felt when you placed kisses along his jaw, punctuating them with reminders of how much you loved him. He’d stayed with you those four days and at the Chateau before that, only a minute bruise near his hip still evident from the last time he was home and when you asked about it he claimed it was a surfing injury.  

“She loves you,” Kiara had argued when he told her that he had no intention of telling you about his father. He could see, in a way, why your parents wanted to shelter you. They were just trying to keep you safe, to shield you from all the unsavory parts of life and he, in that same way, for that same reason, couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his dad.  

“She won’t love that.” He was resolved to his decision. If he didn’t tell you than things could keep on going exactly the way they had been.  

But it wasn’t his dad, in fact, that had any bearing on the course of things. Meeting up with each other once your parents were home returned to be a Olympic-level obstacle. You swearing that you were headed to Kiara’s for a ‘bible study’ and promising to be home before dinner, walking instead in the direction of the Chateau.  

JJ wasn’t there yet when you knocked, John B answering the door instead. “Hey, I didn’t realize you were coming over.” He greeted, stepping out onto the patio with you, “this doesn’t bother you, does it?” He was referring to the fact that he was shirtless and you shook your head.  

“It’s fine, I mean, it is your house.” You shrugged, sitting on the arm of one of the couches. You loved hanging out with Kiara and Pope, they didn’t just feel like JJ’s friends but yours too. There was just something about John B, you could never quite get there with him.  

“JJ said your parents were out of town last week?” He asked, “Figured that was why it was so quiet here.”  

“Yeah I borrowed all the loud energy for a few days,” you laughed, “it was nice though, getting to spend time with him without having to sneak around the island.”

John B nodded, walking across the small space to look outside. He paced back over to the other couch, taking a seat on the arm, mirroring your position. With your back to the screen you couldn’t see JJ approaching the house and later it was obvious that was John B’s intent all along. “Look, you seem really nice and I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, I think you’re a really cool person,” he started, pausing at the right spot to build anticipation.  

“But?” You asked. You missed the sound of JJ’s boots on the steps for the creaky nature of the floorboards when John B stood up.  

“But he’s only dating you for a bet. Sarah bet him $200 he could get you to sleep with him.” He replied, the sound of the door slamming open the perfect punctuation to the sentence.  

“What the fuck John B!” JJ snapped, tackling his friend into the couch you were sitting on the arm of. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps, eyes wide as JJ punched John B in the ribs, pinning him down to the couch. The whole thing felt like it was playing out in slow motion but sped up at the same time. When John B finally managed to shove JJ off of him, throwing the blond to the floor, you snapped out of whatever trance it had ensnared you in.  

“JJ!” You said his name before he could even get himself back on his feet and both boys looked at you. “Is it true?”  

JJ stood up, grabbing his hat off the ground and clenching his fists around it. When he paid John B back it had been with the implied understanding that no one outside of their circle ever needed to know about the bet. Pope had urged him to tell you, insisting that maybe you would understand. But it was far too late for that. The bet was that the two of you had sex and you had and knowing about the bet did nothing but cheapen the moment.  

“Is it true?” You repeated, trying to hold tears at bay as everything felt like it was crashing around you. This was exactly why your mom believed so strongly that the outside world was innately evil.  

“It wasn’t that simple-“ JJ started to say but you cut him off.  

“Yes or no?” You snapped, voicing raising more than JJ had ever heard, even when you were freaking out over lunch with Timothy’s family, “is John B telling the truth?”  

“Yes.” JJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. You backed away from both of them and turned, pulling the door open and running down the steps. “Fuck,” he cursed, taking off after you. He called your name but you didn’t answer, going along the path he’d shown you between your house and John B’s. The moment you hit the yard he stopped, he couldn’t follow you there, as if the ground was poisonous to his touch. It was a natural repellent and he stood at the edge of the tree line, watching you head inside.  

Minutes. It took minutes, and John B deciding to be an absolute asshole, to completely pull apart the only actual relationship he’d ever been in. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the Chateau and beat the shit out of John B until he felt better but he knew, in reality, that nothing was bound to actually make him feel anything but completely broken. You were gone. JJ changed course, heading instead to Heyward’s.  

He had told Pope, while both of them were in the kitchen at John B’s, that he had slept with you for the first time. Kiara had told him, because he had blabbed to her too, that virginity was a social construct.  

“You shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.” She’d insisted.  

“It is a big deal Kie, to her. It’s a huge fucking deal.” He had argued.  

But none of that felt like it even mattered cause he had fucked up so badly that he wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. He could certainly chance going to your house but he didn’t want to show up too soon. If you needed time he wanted to give that to you, whatever you needed, so long as, in the end, you believed him when he told you that it was all just a mistake. The bet, not you.  

-

Kiara called JJ that night, you had come by her house after dinner, after asking your parents if you could sleep over, and apologizing for showing up at all. “I know this is shitty to do to you, JJ’s your best friend, I just…don’t have other friends to go to.” You had all but cried when Kiara hugged you, pulling you into her house.  

You certainly couldn’t call any of your siblings, even the ones you were closest too would not be understanding. All they would see was a girl who broke her vows to the church by dating, by having sex, by lying and tricking your parents. There was no possible way that anyone in your house or your family or even anyone in your church would understand your decision to, in their minds, turn your back on God to be with a boy. So you went to Kiara’s and hoped that she wouldn’t turn you away. Whatever the bet with JJ was, you felt like Kiara was a friend, someone you could count on more than anyone else in your life right now.  

“You can come over anytime, about anything.” She promised.  

“I just feel so stupid,” you confessed, sitting on the bed in her bedroom, drinking a seltzer from her secret stash behind her desk. Losing your virginity, getting drunk, crying over a boy, you’d hit all your milestones in a week. If you were sober, if you weren’t so upset, you would be able to look at it for what it was but instead you stuck in this place, grieving over something you thought was so real. “John B said it was all just a bet.”  

“What did JJ say?” Kiara asked. She knew about the bet but had felt like it was JJ’s place to tell you. Obviously, he had not.  

“That it was, that John B was telling the truth.” You replied, taking another sip.  

“Maybe you should talk to him?” She suggested. It  was a tricky line to walk down but Kiara didn’t want you to give up on JJ. She knew he had feelings for you. “I’ve been friends with JJ for a really long time, I’ve never seen him like this.”  

Kiara had known JJ since middle school and she’d watched him, since then, go through different relationships, if they could be called that. Dates required more effort than he was willing to give when they expected the same attention that he paid to his friends, quickly altering the way he approached relationships until they were just hook-ups. Just short lived moments, half the time too drunk to remember. He flirted, an empty gesture that compensated for his need to be physically close to people without him having to seem clingy.  

“I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me.” You cried. “No wonder my parents never wanted me to date, it hurts so much.”  

“I know,” Kiara lamented, crawling across the bed so she could pull you into a hug, your head resting against her shoulder as you continued to cry. It was like an endless sadness, you couldn’t imagine recovering from.  

It was when you finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying and almost entirely drunk, that Kiara finally called JJ. She left you tucked in her bed, going into the bathroom and locking the door as she sat on the closed toilet to call him. It was nearing three in the morning but he answered anyway, immediately asking if she had heard from you.  

“She took off toward her house and it’s not like I can call her or something. I followed her to her yard but I was worried her parents would see me.” JJ had hastily explained. He’d thought about going back later but when he did your mom was in the yard and he didn’t want to chance it.  

“She’s here.” Kiara replied, voice low so her parents did come snooping when they heard voices. Her mom had been dying to get some kind of gossip out of you when you first showed up.  

“John B told her about the bet.”  

“Did you explain that you gave the money back?” She asked.

“I…I just kinda got into it with John B.” He admitted. “In my defense though, she didn’t let me explain!” He knew it wasn’t your fault, you were upset, but thinking that it’d been him, by proxy, that had hurt you like that had his stomach turning.  

“I’m pretty sure finding out that the first guy you’ve ever dated or had feelings for was using you for a bet would be kind of traumatizing JJ! She doesn’t really wanna talk to anyone, she barely explained what happened, she just keeps saying how stupid she feels.” Kiara replied.  

“I just need to talk to her.”  

“Maybe just, give it some time?” She suggested.  

“I don’t have time.” JJ replied, pulling at strands of his hair as he combed his fingers through it. “She’s eighteen in a week. Her parents set her up with this guy from Tennessee and she’s going be engaged on her birthday. I can’t let her go through with it.”  

“That’s part of her life JJ, I mean, that’s what her family believes-“

“She deserves more than that!”  

“And you can provide this? I don’t wanna be that bitch Jay but, seriously? You can provide something for her that’s better than, at least, some security. Something worth giving up her entire family for?” Kiara asked. She knew she sounded awful but she couldn’t help questioning him. The last thing she wanted was you trapped into a life you didn’t want but JJ playing like everything would be rainbows and good times if you left was impractical.  

“I have a plan.”  

“And what exactly, is that?”  

“Look, I don’t fucking need you getting all high and mighty!” JJ spat, pissed as it was. Kiara had the nerve to tell him not to make such a big deal about sex but she could turn around and bitch him out for wanting to ‘interfere with your life’. He knew she was just trying to be a decent friend to you but he didn’t want her input, he just wanted her to put you on the phone.  

“You’re playing with her life here Jay…if she chooses you, if you apologize and she gets back together with you…she will never get to speak to her family again. Is that what you want?” She questioned, “to have her ostracized from her family.”  

“I want her to be happy.” JJ replied, “and to know that none of this was fake.” 

-

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[missturtleduck]

hi i saw ur requests were open and i would love if u could do a sokka x reader :) where reader is really shy and he likes to tease her and flirt with her to see her all flustered but she denies him actually liking her bc she thinks it’s just his personality to be funny like that. but then there’s the classic oh no there’s only one bed thing? thank you!

Ooooh I loved writing this! Tropes? Love them. Fluff? So fun, so sweet. I hope you enjoy, anon, and have a very happy holiday! <3

Teasing

Sokka x shy!Reader

It was a well-known fact that Sokka was a tease.

Now, he wasn’t a tease in the common sense, more that he took some joy in being a so-called comedian. Y/N seemed to be the person in their gang that got the brunt of his teasing. Every time he came up with some sarcastic quip, she would laugh along with everyone else – though most of the time she was the only one who found him funny – but then there were the other times.

She had been sparring with Zuko, who was surprisingly adept with swords for a bender, when Sokka had come by whistling with faux innocence. As he took a seat on the floor, his eyes were trained on the fight. Feeling his blue-eyed gaze boring into her, she felt her entire body flush. Steadying her breathing, Y/N pushed down the flustered flutter bats inhabiting her stomach. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she pinned Zuko’s blades to the floor with her own.

“Sokka,” She breathed out, hating how hot she felt. “Sokka, w-what are you doing?”

He grinned. “Just enjoying the view. You know, I always thought red was Zuko’s colour, but you are boasting a lovely shade today.”

Absently, Y/N put a palm to her face, only becoming more flustered as she realised her skin had in fact became darker. As the blood rushed faster through her body, she looked desperately at Zuko for some reprieve.

“Sokka, are you here for any reason other than being a complete clown?” Zuko said, sighing in pure exasperation even as Y/N had him pinned.

The boy ignored him completely. “Has anyone ever told just how adorable you are? Because you really are.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said again, his voice less patient. “Go away before we make you.”

“Alright, alright,” He tutted, hands in the air as if in surrender. “I’ll leave you two to your dance lessons. Call me if you fall; I’ll come and catch you.”

Waiting for him to be out of earshot, Y/N groaned, dropping her sword and freeing Zuko. Her entire face was on fire. Sure, it was a metaphor, a hyperbolic one at that, but if Zuko decided to shove his ignited palm in her face, it would not manage to be as hot as she was feeling now. It might be slightly less sweaty. Ew.

Lowering herself to the ground, she sat, stretching out her aching limbs, pouring water over her roasting head. Y/N, needless to say, was mortified by Sokka’s teasing, but when was she not? She was somewhat shyer than her female friends; Katara had this maternal instinct about her that kicked into overdrive as soon as someone seemed needy. It was honestly scarier than the Avatar State. Toph was just... Toph. The girl was at least four years younger than Y/N and utterly terrifying, approaching people and situations with no fear. Then there was Suki. Suki had a knack of getting people to like her, being the loveable, charismatic leader, she was.

And that left Y/N.

Y/N struggled being heard in many a conversation. Ask her to take a compliment? No. No. Not happening. No thank you. Her shy demeanour was labelled cute by a few different people, though they all seemed to be joking – especially Sokka.

“Do you want me to sort him out for you?”

Y/N looked up, meeting Zuko’s very serious gaze for just a moment before staring at the ground. “No, it’s okay. He’s like that with everyone.”

“What?” Zuko frowned, slumping to the ground too. “What are you on about? He doesn’t flirt with everyone!”

“That wasn’t flirting!” She insisted, feeling that bashful flush creeping in again. 

“He was just teasing, like he does with everyone!”

Zuko’s lips quirked. “He called you adorable.”

“Yesterday, he called Momo adorable.”

“He said you flushed was your colour.”

“And he said that red was yours, sunshine.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll catch you if you fall!”

Y/N stammered. “He could have been talking to either of us!”

There was some silence between them. Y/N didn’t usually mind sitting in silence with Zuko, who was just as awkward as her most of the time. However, the wide, toothy grin like a catgator’s was highly disconcerting.

“Zuko, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but he wasn’t flirting,” Y/N said finally, quietly commanding. “He’s just messing around like he usually does.”

The prince sighed, suppressing his mischievous grin. Raising his swords, the pair charged each other again.

                                                      ✦

In the midst of a war, there wasn’t much space for fun. With the constant movement between the Western Air Temple and many significant locations to build their defences after the Day of Black Sun, Y/N found she hardly had time for anything other than training and strategizing. Sure, she may be considered meek when compared to her peers, but her mind was sharper than her blade.

After watching Aang master firebending, Sokka masterminding a prison break, and Katara nearly murdering a man – all with Zuko’s help – she had some whiplash. She might even say that she had been somewhat blindsided by them, but she didn’t particularly mind. It was when they moved onto Ember Island, however, that Y/N found there to be an issue. In all the excitement, or terror, of being separated from Haru and the others, and possibly murdering Sparky Sparky Boom Man, the gang ended up hiding out on Ember Island.

Spirits, did Y/N love the sunshine. The sand? Not so much, nor the swimsuits. Nevertheless, she much preferred it to Aang’s beloved ancestral temple.

“Okay,” Zuko said as they all collected together in the house, “So there’s a bit of an issue.”

“Fire Nation?” Katara asked, eyes narrowing.

“Worse,” Zuko said, voice grave. “There are seven of us, and only six beds.”

The teenagers all looked between each other with varying looks of embarrassment and disgust. It was Toph who spoke first.

“Well, I for one do not want to share a room,” She scoffed, stomping her foot – a reminder of her power. “I can already hear all of you when we sleep on the ground. I am not missing out on my chance for a quiet night of sleep.”

“That seems fair,” Zuko hummed as he pulled a hat off of a dresser. “Everyone else, unless they have some reason why not, will put their name in here.”

Sokka whined, pointing his finger at the heir of the Fire Nation. “Fine! But they should get the biggest bedroom.”

Y/N swore Zuko smirked. “Done.”

Sat on the floor watching him write names, the group waited anxiously to see who would be sharing a room at least for that night. Mixing up bits of paper, he seemed to be building up some bravado, akin to a showman about to pull a jackalope out of a hat.

“Sokka.”

The boy cursed under his breath as Zuko continued on with his little show, the piece of paper disintegrating as easily as a leaf floating in a breeze.

“And Y/N!”

She met Zuko’s eye, entire body hot, sending a psychic message along the lines of sprits, no, Zuko, no, please, Zuko, don’t do this.

Despite the fact that Y/N knew Sokka was only joking with his teasing, somewhere along the line she had ended up falling for it – for him. It was sudden and violent, the way a meteor crashed through the atmosphere, roaring, brilliant, and completely obliterating anything in its path. Currently, Y/N was that metaphorical meteorite, burning up and crashing into the earth.

Since Zuko apparently couldn’t read minds, she chanced a glance at Sokka. She expected some sort of joke, a quip, anything. Instead, he was deadly silent, stony in his face, staring too at Zuko. Was he blushing, or was she making it up in her head? This question soon slipped from her brain as she those baby blue eyes were staring straight at her.

Tui and La, Agni, spirits above; he hated her.

“Cool!” She said, though it came out more like a squeak. “I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”

“Y/N, we have the entire day before- “

She cut Suki off. “Yep, busy today! Busy, busy, busy. Plenty of strategic planning to do before the big day!”

And she was gone. Even Aang, renowned creator of the air scooter, had never seen a person move so fast, and Y/N wasn’t even a bender. In her haste, she didn’t catch the sly looks, nor the disapproving one courtesy of Katara. She definitely didn’t catch the shy grin on Sokka’s face, muddled with complete embarrassment. Getting as far away from the house as possible was her current goal, and she achieved it with insane speed – and longevity.

For an entire day, Y/N managed to see none of her friends, excluding Appa and Momo. Her animal friends seemed very concerned and very interested in her noughts and crosses diagrams in the black volcanic sand of Ember Island. It was only when Yue began to rise above the horizon that she thought it would be safe to come out. With what felt like a walk of shame, she trekked back to the beach house, a sleeping Momo cradled in her arms like a baby. Even Appa, who had been occupied with all sorts of made-up games throughout the day, was beginning to sway, eyes drooping, weighed down by sleep. Settling them down in the warm sand, Y/N climbed the wooden stairs.

Being quiet used to get her everywhere unseen; it didn’t work that night. Wordless, her friends’ good night wishes falling on deaf ears, she entered the biggest bedroom, alone. Falling face first onto the bed, she muffled a frustrated scream into one of the too many decadent pillows adorning it. Heaving herself onto her back, Y/N groaned dramatically with the effort it took. This bed was so soft. She tried to think of a more comfy, luxurious bed she had ever been on – and failed. The four-poster frame was casting odd shadows across the dark room. It felt especially lonely.

She felt especially lonely.

Sitting up, a low rumble filled the silence. Her stomach was apparently rather unhappy with the distinct lack of food during the day. Y/N had forgotten about that. She weighed up the options; go out and face embarrassment, or skip dinner for the first time in her life. Fortunately, she needn’t think long.

“So, everyone’s going to bed, and I remembered you hadn’t eaten.”

Sokka.

Of course.

“Oh,” Was all she could manage, mentally kicking herself for her utter lack of articulation. “Th-thanks, Sokka.”

Flicking on the light, the shadows no longer seemed odd, nor did the room feel lonely. There, in the doorway, stood Sokka. He was pretty – something that always took Y/N by surprise even though she saw him every day. Sure, he hadn’t grown into his gangly limbs yet, but he was getting there. His shoulders had gotten broader, his arms larger from training. She couldn’t help but imagine how comfy he’d be to lie against, how warm his hold would be.

“I brought snacks?”

Opening her mouth only to close it again, Y/N felt like a fish thrown mercilessly out of water. Instead, she managed a timid pat on the bed. He was slow to react, slower to move, and she only felt more inadequate. Whatever Zuko thought he saw at the temple was wrong.

“Wow, this bed is soft,” Sokka gasped, bouncing lightly on it like a small child. “It’s like sitting on a cloud!”

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that passed her lips as she took a slice of fruit from the platter he had brought in. For the briefest moment, infinitesimally small, Sokka ceased with his childish antics and just looked. Brightening, he seemed to thrive – delight – in her laughter, continuing to goof about with the numerous pillows and posh looking decor.

“Whoa.”

Y/N looked up at him from her laughing, stomach aching with joy. “What?”

“I didn’t know you could get prettier,” He said, brows furrowed, eyes sparkling.

She turned mute in an instant, feeling that all too familiar flush again, only this time it was close – more intense. Silent, she took another piece of fruit, eating it in moments, anything to give her time. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “What? No. I’m not- “

“It’s okay if you are!” Y/N insisted, her smile plastered on and her heart aching. “I know you joke about with us all, and it’s just how you are. It’s not a bad thing, and I know you’re just joking and- “

“Y/N,” Sokka said, almost incredulous. “I’m not joking. I have never joked about that kind of thing with you.”

She stopped dead. “What?”

It wasn’t a question – well, not to Sokka at least. That one word was her address to the universe. It was astonishment, frustration, incredulity, sheer joy, so many emotions all wrapped into one simple word. The moments that passed between that word and their locked gaze spoke a thousand more words, sang a hundred more emotions.  

“You didn’t know?”

Her head was empty. “Prettier?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sokka chuckled weakly, moving the platter to the side.

“Prettier,” Y/N repeated slowly, looking up at him, “As in I was already pretty?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Tui and La, yes.”

Oh.

“Okay,” She said, testing the waters, “And you like it when I blush?”

“Yeah, you look cute,” He admitted, sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Looking down, bashful, she recalled training with Zuko. “The word you used was adorable.”

No words came in response to that, only a gentle hand on her cheek. Guiding her face up, Sokka looked at her and saw her. Y/N could see him reaching for words that danced in his mind and away from his grasp, so many more pretty, teasing words he could say. But he wasn’t teasing, not really. He certainly wasn’t when he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and easy to melt into; she didn’t need to be shy, not with him.

They shared more sweet kisses, laughing under the moonlight in that fancy bed they got to share. Fruit, a bed, kisses; they shared them all, drifting into an easy sleep as the moon began to slip away into daylight. Basking in the prospect of a lazy morning, they made the most of it.

They weren’t even mad when they found out Zuko rigged the entire thing.

[elareine]

the song better place by rachel platten and jay/dick or maybe just some jay-centric bat fam. hope this prompt works for you. love your fics <3

Thank you <3 That’s a very JayDick song, but I love writing batfam, too, so... have both. 

Steph took one look at Jason’s old-new room and pronounced: “You need to redecorate.”

“No shit.”

“Let’s go.”

Which was how Jason found himself in Ikea of all places. She even dragged a flustered-looking Tim with her, who proved to be supremely unhelpful when it came to curtain color (“I don’t think either red or purple will look good with those walls,” bullshit) but very willing to hand over his credit card. It was… fun. The room felt less like a tomb when Steph was done with it, which was great.

He told her that.

“Well, duh.” She grinned. “No one in this house knows how to decorate for shit. You should see what Tim did with his bedroom…”

Jason spent a minute considering his options. “Anime girls?”

“Nope.”

“Superman posters.”

“Nope, but I like the way you’re thinking.”

“Bad Picasso replicas.”

“Nooo,”

“I give up.”

“He did…” Steph paused dramatically. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. It still looks like it did in the eighties.”

Jason laughed, and she looked gratified. “Sounds terrible.”

They kept working on the bookshelf. Ikea was great for those; that’s why they went there in the first place. Well, that and the look on Bruce’s face when he saw the boxes.  

After a minute, Jason asked: “So… are you seeing a lot of Tim’s bedroom, then?”

“Yeah. So what?” She glared at him, which he was starting to realize was a sure sign that she was embarrassed.

“So nothing. Didn’t know that was happening again, that’s all.”

It took her a minute, but she softened. “Yeah. I… guess we’re giving it a second chance.”

“That’s cool,” he told her sincerely. “I mean, you could clearly do better, but he damn well knows what he’s got now.”

“Hmm.” Steph was hiding behind the shelf she was holding up, but he could still tell she was pleased. “So how about your own second chance, huh?”

…damn, he’d walked right into that one. “Shut up.”

—

“Home invasion in sector 6R. Three 1Cs, suspected armed. Neighbors reporting shots, five people in the house. Hood, you’re closest.”

Jason had already changed course. “I’m on it.”

He waited—this was the point where Batman would send a Robin or two after him, maybe even Nightwing or himself, “just as back-up.” There was no way they would let him operate as part of the team without close supervision for at least a year. Jason was determined to grit his teeth and bear it, even if he wasn’t sure for how long he could. He was chafing already, running like this with the others when he’d been on his own for so long.  

However, Bruce only confirmed that he’d heard him, and then the line went silent.

Huh.

—

There was no better time to be awake in the manor than the early morning in Jason’s opinion. The light fell softly into the kitchen as he entered, barefoot and in his pajamas.

Alfred was there, of course. “Good morning, Jason.”

It was their private ritual; had been even before Jason had moved back into the fold. Six a.m., tea and sandwiches. The only difference was that now, Jason hadn’t vanished by the time Damian stomped into the kitchen, glowering at them for being awake and having the audacity to send him to school.

It was kinda adorable, not that Jason would ever tell him that. Instead, he watched Damian make his way through his own breakfast and nodded toward the packed lunch waiting for him. “I see you’re not taking advantage of the school cafeteria, then?”

“Them?” The amount of scorn Damian managed to pack into a single word would have weighed down a ship or two. “They would not know good food if it chased after them with a sword.”

“Let me guess—still only three spices, and these are salt, pepper, and ketchup?” Jason asked.

“I believe there is a fourth one now—they have a particularly intolerable mixture that they like to label ‘Chinese.’” Damian’s whole face scrunched up with distaste. “It tastes nothing like what Mother used to cook.”

“While I am sorry to hear that,” Alfred inserted, “we will be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Damian grumbled but hopped off his chair. Jason glanced at the clock — seven a.m. Dick would get up soon. Might as well make him a sandwich, too.

He pulled the ingredients closer, already compiling a list of recipes in his head. Talia had shown him how to make most of Damian’s favorites. He could teach those to Alfred, no problem.

—

“Hood. Stop it right now.” Dick looked at him with big eyes, or so Jason assumed, considering they were both wearing their masks.

“No, continue.” Barbara sounded choked, audibly forcing down laugher.

And, hey. Love was one thing, but Jason knew who gave him the best intel night after night. “So big bird and B decide that they have to infiltrate this organization, right? Only… they’re all swingers…”

Her laughter was brighter than the streetlights.

—

Jason stepped into the corridor and silently closed the door behind him.

God, but it had taken a long time to get Dick tired and ready to sleep. Jason himself was still feeling too wired to pass out, but then he wasn’t operating on a 40-hour sleep deficit, so it was totally not the same thing.

He decided to wander down to the cave. Bruce was still up, of course, acknowledging Jason’s presence with a grunt. The only other person present was Tim, who was bent over some files.

…like, really bent over them. One could almost think…yup, he’d fallen asleep at the table.

Jason gently poked him. Then he harshly poked him. When nothing happened, he sighed and moved one arm under Tim’s legs, the other gripping his shoulders. The kid would fuck up his back if he stayed like that. It took a bit of effort, but they were soon making their way up the stairs, Tim cradled securely in Jason’s arms.

They’d almost made it upstairs when Tim stirred, blue eyes opening halfway and looking at him.

Heart in his throat, Jason waited. This family had a bad habit of coming awake swinging, and with Jason hovering over them… well, it wouldn’t be entirely unjustified, wouldn’t it? Especially in Tim’s case.

Tim grumbled and went right back to sleep.

—

Jason pinched his nose. Or tried to, but he was wearing his helmet, so he basically poked himself in the face. Judging from Duke’s expression, that wasn’t helping his point.

“So you decided to buy us time by…”

“Ninja traps,” Cassie finished for him. Looking as if that made total sense.

“Ninja traps.”

“Well, it was more of an obstacle course, really,” Duke added helpfully.

“Okay, that’s a weird-ass move, but I can respect that. Then why did that warehouse explode?”

“Fire.” Cassie’s expression gave nothing away.

Jason looked to Duke. “What she said.”

“And the fire was there because…?”

“Fire is an obstacle.”

Jason groaned. “I cannot believe I’m the responsible person here,” he lamented. “Is this how you feel most of the time, D?”

There was laughter over the com. “Oh, Nightwing has finally acquired a co-parent,” Steph commented, followed by Tim’s: “About time.”

(Everyone ignored Bruce’s “Hey!”.)  

—

“Jason.”

Bruce was hovering. He probably didn’t intend to it; it just came naturally. Jason still felt that nervous lurch in his stomach whenever Bruce did that, but he was trying to get over it, so he just asked: “Yeah?”

“Let me show you something.”

They went into one of the rooms behind Bruce’s office that Jason had always assumed held nothing but files. He was very wrong.

“After you… left, I found myself reading books and thinking—he would’ve loved that.”

The walls were lined with bookcases. There were special editions of Jane Austen reprints, thick sci-fi novels, and nineteenth-century murder mysteries. It was eclectic and weird and precisely what Jason liked. What they both liked.

“I kept collecting them,” Bruce told him, voice too even. “Just… in case, I suppose.”

Jason stared at the shelves and shelves full of books, all read exactly once. His eyes were stinging because the glass display downstairs—that was bullshit. That uniform was about and for Bruce, and the new Robins, not Jason.

But this?

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Bruce almost-smiled, relief written across his face. “You’re welcome. Uh. I’ll leave you to it.”

Jason let him take two steps, then he said: “Bruce. If there was ever a time for a hug, this is it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Jason let Bruce pull him into an embrace—hugged back just as fiercely and told him: “It’s okay. You can stop grieving now. I’m here.”

If Bruce’s shoulders were shaking, neither of them mentioned it.

—

It was a total accident. Jason had felt like holding Dick’s hand, so he did. It was only when he looked up and caught Tim’s eye that he remembered—right. They were surrounded by Dick’s family. Their family.

Tim winked. The conversation didn’t stop. No one else commented or even gave them a second glance.

Something in Jason exhaled.

Dick squeezed his hand, smiling at something Damian was saying, and ugh, sometimes Jason was so full of feelings, he didn’t know what to do with it. Dick was just so—so—

Yeah. Jason was so fucking gone for him. All he could think about was how it would feel if there was a ring, there, pressing against his own.

He leaned back, adding a sarcastic comment or two to the conversation just to bask in the sunshine of Dick’s laughter. That thought warranted some serious consideration, not to mention talking to Dick, but—just the idea that he could have that? That he trusted himself, and Dick, and their family, enough to have that?

It was more than enough.

—

(Three days before Jason moved into the manor, Dick called a family gathering.

“Why is Jason not here, then?” Tim asked, frowning. “If it’s a family matter, it concerns him, too.”

Dick could kiss him for that. Instead he said: “Because it’s about him. I’m gonna lay down some ground rules, okay?”

Jason letting Dick convince him to move back in with them… that was huge. And dangerous. Dick had figured out long ago that Jay and Bruce had no idea how to handle each other anymore. Neither did the rest. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to. Dick was hopeful.

It was just… Jay was the best thing in Dick’s world; his support, his light, his conscience. He just made everything better. And Dick had no intentions of letting their family or anyone else fuck that up.)

(I’m taking prompts.)

[staticscreenwriting]

Both - Angel Reyes

Here’s a short little something because I missed writing Angel. It’s inspired by the song “both” by Ingrid Andress.

“ You can kiss me goodnight, or kiss me goodbye Baby, love me or don't But you can't do, you can't do both “

The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain tells her she shouldn’t be bothered by this. The rational part of her brain yells at her not to take this to heart. It’s nothing personal, the way his hand rests on the other girls hip. The way she whispers sweet, probably naughty things, into his ear. The way he hasn’t really paid any attention to (Y/N) all night.

What they are, it’s casual, uncomplicated. It’s fun. Nothing serious.

The rational part of her brain knows all of that but her heart? Her heart’s a completely different story. Her heart burns with red hot rage. With jealousy. With sadness.

Angel leans against the bar, a barely dressed girl pressed against his side, trailing her fingers up and down his arm, slipping under his cut as he sips his beer and laughs along to Coco’s story.

She hates that she knows what his skin feels like under her own fingertips. Hates that the taste of his lips still lingers on hers. 

It all started out so uncomplicated. She was just a girl at a bar that caught his eyes and he was just this rough but absolutely charming guy who swept her off her feet. They spent that entire night dancing and laughing and kissing and life felt magical.

Life always feels magical when Angel’s around. No matter how casual it is what they’re having, it holds meaning — to her at least. Because Angel makes life fun, he makes loving fun. Those words used to scare her, hell they still do. But it’s the truth and the truth demands to be spoken, demands to be felt, demands to be acknowledged. Even if it’s just on the inside. Even if she only admits it to herself. 

That very truth is what’s slowly tearing her heart apart though. You don’t fall in love with your casual hookup. You don’t fall in love with an MC Member and, for god’s sake, you don’t fall in love with Angel Reyes.

His eyes meet hers across the room and (Y/N) hates the way it sends shivers down her spine and makes the butterflies in her stomach cause havoc. And he has the audacity to wink at him. As another girl has her hands on his chest. 

(Y/N) hates this. The being pushed to the sidelines. The constant wondering. Most of all though, she hates that she willingly puts herself through this. Because she’d rather have him like this than not at all.

It’s not like her feelings are entirely based on her own illusions or fantasies. A spare change of clothes of his still sits in her laundry basket. The smell of his cologne still lingers on her sheets. The last text on her phone from “2:12 am” reads “ I miss you “ with a black heart emoji next to it. She replied with “come over.”  and a red heart. He came. Then he came. Then he stayed the night. Cuddled her. Kissed her. Caressed her skin and let her kiss him where he now lets another girl touch him.

When she first started dating, (Y/N) was quick to learn that men, that boys, don’t like when girls make a claim, when they become possessive. Cool girls don’t do that. Desirable girls don’t do that. They are suave and unbothered and don’t take anything too serious. It is what it is and they play along with the boy’s games and say yes and thank you and “yeah no strings attached, that’s fine with me. “ 

At 16 she really believed in those words as they fell from her lips. Made herself believe that none of it bothered her. That her heart was secured behind high walls of concrete and bricks. 

Growing up though, she realised that those words held no truth. They didn’t make her cool or suave. They made her vulnerable and easy and sad. There was never a “yes” or a “ thank you “ she said for her own good. Never one she spoke because she meant it. To be cool and desirable meant to give up part of herself in order to seem unbothered, to numb a part of her heart that was slowly but surely crumbling away. 

She’s not unbothered now. Doesn’t even make herself believe it for a second. Every part of her is fully aware that she is undeniably in love with Angel Reyes. 

And yet she plays along, if only for everyone else. 

A few nights ago, when the air was still warm from the long summer day that had just given way for the night, he came around. Didn’t call before, didn’t even text. He just showed up on her front porch, tired eyes, tired bones. 

He knows he’s always welcome. Open arms are always right there for him to fall back into. Even when she’s angry, even when she’s sad. A life without Angel Reyes is not one she wants to live, not one she even wants to imagine.

So he sat down next to her and they shared a beer and a cigarette and an uncountable amount of kisses. And it felt right, like this is where they were meant to be. Beside each other. Together. 

Looking up at the stars, the air felt light and like it was asking for secrets to be shared. So that’s what they did. With every word tumbling from his lips, (Y/N) fell more and more in love with Angel. Not for the things he said, but the strength that she could see in him. One that let him persevere. One that carried him through all the hardships life had thrown at him. 

Angel Reyes opened his heart to her that night and how foolish of her to believe that meant something. That anything about them had changed them.

You don’t tell a girl your dreams and hopes and fears and then let another woman touch you. Not if the she means anything to you. 

After aking one last drink from her beer that has by now gone warm, (Y/N)  places the empty bottle on the bar and makes her way outside. Maybe the cool night air can help her get a clear head. Forget about the war raging inside her. 

Between staying silent and keeping Angel in her life and finally shouting out all the thoughts swimming through her mind, breaking her own heart.

“ Hey, where you going? You just got here.” 

His voice does both, send her butterflies into a frenzy and give her an anger induced headache.

She takes a big breath, then another, then a third. Tries to calm her nerves. Tries to be cool. Collected. Tries to be 16 again and the kind of girl boys liked. The easy one. The one that didn’t take just gave.

“ You not having a good time? “ 

Something snaps. (Y/N) isn’t entirely sure what brings it on. Maybe the fact that he doesn’t even realise he did something wrong. Maybe the fact that he’s so casual about everything. Unbothered. Unbothered. Unbothered.

“ No, Angel. I am not having a good time. “ she yells, turning back around and facing him with fury in her eyes.

“ Woah, babe. What’s the matter? “ 

What is the matter, (Y/N)? You got in over your head. Let yourself fall when you knew there was no one there to catch you.

“ I — god, Angel I can’t do this. “ 

“ What do you mean? Do what? “ 

There’s realisation in his eyes. He knows. He gets it. He understands and he’s — scared?

“ This — “ she replies and gestures between the two of them “ us. “

“ Huh?”

“ Don’t huh me, Angel. I just — my heart can not take seeing you get cosy with another woman. I can’t put myself through this. I can’t stand there and pretend it doesn’t hurt. “

Angel is quiet for a second before clearing his throat. “ You knew what this was before it started. We were on the same page here. “ 

“ I know that. But things change, Angel. Feelings develop. You’re not really helping either. You constantly blur the lines. You make it impossible for me to understand what you want. You push me away one moment then come over and spend the night. You tell me you miss me, then hardly pay attention to me when I’m around. It kills me, Angel.” 

“ I never meant to hurt you.” 

She knows that. She always knew that and even if she didn’t the pain in his voice makes it abundantly clear. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“ I know. But I need you to say something. I can’t keep going on like this. I’ll just hurt myself in the process. I am not 16 anymore, holding myself back and suppressing my feelings because it makes the boys like me more. I am over that. We’re adults, Angel. It’s either you want me completely or not at all. You can’t have both. Not anymore. “ 

He doesn’t say anything. For a long long time he doesn’t say a single word. Maybe that’s worse than him outright rejecting her. Uncertainty is the killer of all joy. 

This is all the answers she needs. 

The music and the chatter from the clubhouse slowly fade in the background as she gets into her car, turns on the ignition and drives off. Tears pearl down her cheeks and a burning pain soars through her heart but maybe this can be the start of something new. Maybe you have to fall apart in order to put yourself back together and become whole again.

It’s 2:12 am and the world is silent when (Y/N) gets woken up by a pounding on her front door. Rapid and impatient and fucking loud.

As she swings open the door her heart deceives her by skipping a beat. Angel looks phenomenal against the dark backdrop of a Santo Padre night. Like a vision of all things she ever desired. Like an image straight from a dream of hers. 

He’s all soft eyes and warmth. How could a man like that be the one that broke her heart?

“ What are you doing here? “

“ You told me to chose so I’m choosing. “

“ Okay.” 

“ I want all of you. Every little piece, every fault and quirk and all your imperfections. I want to spend nights looking at the stars and for you to tell me about the constellations even though I know all you told me was absolute bullshit you just made up on the spot. I wanna watch cheesy telenovelas with you at 4 am. I wanna take you out dancing. Kiss you. Fuck you. Love you. All of it. I know I am not a good man. I will never be the man you deserve but I can try to be the best man I can possibly be. Because you’re worth it and I love you.”

“ Angel, I — “ 

“ I was afraid — of opening up and shit. You aren’t the only one who held back on saying what they’re actually feeling. I thought by holding you at arm’s length I could, fuck I don’t know, I thought I could make it easier on both of us. Keep myself from fucking up and keep you from realising what a piece of shit I am. “ 

“ You’re not a piece of shit, Angel. I want to believe you but I need to you be serious about this.”

“ I am. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. You want me to scream it from the rooftops? ‘cause I fucking will. Everyone can know. “ 

He steps away from the door and into the street, spreading out his arms as far as he can before he yells from the top of his lungs.  “ I love you, (Y/N). Hey everyone, sorry to bother you but I love this woman. I adore her! “ 

Life doesn’t work like the movies. Relationships aren’t fixed in a night and hearts don’t get put together by some grand romantic gesture. 

But maybe, (Y/N) thinks, maybe sometimes we can learn a thing or two from the movies. Like how to be soft and how to forgive. And how to let your heart be vulnerable even when it’s broken and hurt because there’s a silly guy with a big heart standing in the middle of your street proclaiming his love to you.

So she lets herself fall, again. And maybe it’s dumb and irresponsible but at least it’s true. 

When her arms wrap around his middle, it feels like home. When her lips meet his, it feels like magic.

“ You don’t ever have to pretend with me. You don’t ever gotta hold back. I want all of you, all the passion and all the feelings, aright? You’re so fucking cool when you let yourself love me “ Angel murmurs against her hair before he places a kiss on her head.

The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain tells her she shouldn’t be so reckless, shouldn’t put her heart back in his hands so carelessly. 

(Y/N)’s never been one to listen to the rational part of her brain though.

[cutietobio]

Can you write an imagine with akaashi having feelings for a shy girl in one of his classes. Maybe the rest of the team notices and tries to get them together, but akaashi is shy and reluctant and she doesn't even think it's possible that akaashi knows her.

this is the longest sitting request in my inbox and I eventually got it done, I’m proud. I was lowkey tempted to turn this into an angsty ending but I wanted to clear everything up so I hope you were initially looking for a happy ending!! 

AKAASHI

Whenever you stepped into class, Akaashi’s eyes were naturally drawn to you. Despite being his classmate for over a year now, it was only recently that he had started taking a particular interest in you. Neither of you had merely acknowledged the other, never mind spoken to one another. You were simply unaware of him, and his heart ached at the thought of his unrequited love for you.

Akaashi could very well approach you, then the trouble of you being strangers would be no longer, but he was observant to your nature around others. You were shy and appeared to get flustered around people you didn’t know, seemingly recoiling away and blocking yourself off from them. His many observations of watching you in the classroom lead him to the conclusion that if he wanted to get anywhere with you, it would have to willingly be initiated on your part.

However, Akaashi couldn’t help but think that he was looking far too deep into the situation, and what he dubbed at his thoughtfulness for you was just him overthinking. He was at a loss on what to do, which was strange for Akaashi, as he wasn’t an indecisive person. The experience was unfamiliar for him, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it, which left him pondering for too long and eventually deciding to serve the ball in your side of the court and see if you would act upon anything. So for now, Akaashi would wait, hoping that you would open up to him,

Unbeknownst to Akaashi, another force was at the works behind the scene of this complicated love story. Bokuto, his best friend and captain of the volleyball team, was quite confident of Akaashi’s obvious crush on you and immediately took it upon himself to set the both of you up. 

“Listen up,” Bokuto’s voice dripped with unusual authority, devoid of his normal boisterous tone. He walked down the line of his teammates which stood like half-assed soldiers, each sharing a look of confusion at their captain’s demands to line up and pay him their undivided attention.

“Have you ever seen him look so serious before?” a voice whispered to no one in particular, thinking it to be safe to speak even in the deathly quiet confines of the gym. His comment was quickly picked up by Bokuto, who snapped his head in the direction of the first year. The boy flinched, not out of fear for his normally cheery senior, but for the unexpected reaction and the way his finger pointed at him accusingly as if he had said something wrong.

“This is a serious matter!” Bokuto challenged the boy to speak back, hard eyes staring at him. When the boy flew his hands up in mock surrender, Bokuto lowered his finger and continued walking. “You may be wondering why our dear Akaashi isn’t here,” Bokuto spoke solemnly as if the news to come after would be grave. His arms clasped behind his back, back straightening up. More glances were shared, equally as dubious as to why their captain was acting in such a theatrical way. But then again, this was Bokuto, they just didn’t expect him to be acting like a military official when they got rounded up for an ‘important’ meeting during the middle of lunch.

“He’s, well...” Bokuto sighed, collecting his words, “The man’s in love, but he’s too much of a p- he’s too dumb to confess!” Each teammates eyes widened to a certain extent of surprise. That’s what Bokuto is being so passionate over, his friend’s lack of admission? They had to admit, it was strange hearing Akaashi had feelings for someone. Honestly, they never thought him to be the type of guy to indulge in such things. Was he even capable of love? Akaashi appeared to be quite distant and they wondered who was able to catch their setter’s attention from his faraway bubble.

“This calls for our action, men! It’s up to us now, or else Akaashi will never admit his feelings. And then...what if he gets sad? He’s always helping me when I’m down and...I don’t want to see him sad enough to where I have to do the same,” Bokuto admitted, his words heartfelt and laced with concern. His teammates deadpanned, so he did notice how many times Akaashi saved his ass when he got into his depressive states?

“Don’t you think it isn’t our place to say? Forcing it upon them may be a bad thing, we should let it occur natu-” Konoha, who had been watching with a tired gaze the entire time, was cut off by a violent ‘shh!’ from Bokuto.

“This has been going on for too long. Akaashi thinks I have no clue but he’s so obvious! It’s been months, months!!”

“Maybe he’s still mustering up the courage-”

“When have you ever seen Akaashi be indecisive, hmm?” Bokuto’s question left the gym silent, as his teammates were unable to recall a time where Akaashi was at a loss on what to do. He was a strategic thinker, and the more they thought about it, the more sense it made that he would have come up with a plan to confess by now.

“Maybe he’s lacking the support, we should motivate him, as teammates and friends,” Sarukui suggested, glancing around the many faces which compiled up his team, urging them to accept his idea. Everyone mumbled out their agreements, and Bokuto watched from the sidelines as his team apparently decided on a plan without him. Turning their backs to him, they began walking to the exit, leaving behind a dumbstruck Bokuto.

“But, guys?!” he called out, watching as none of them even turned around to glance at him, now opening the doors to the gym. “Guys, wait!! I had such a great plan, it involved water balloons and fireworks, we were going to-” his desperate attempt to catch their attention with his elaborate plan failed as the loud slam of the doors cut him off, leaving him standing in the now empty gym.

-

“Akaashi,” the said boy looked up at the familiar voice of Bokuto, who had previously caught up with his teammates and lead them to the usual hang out spot where they all crowded around the ravenette.

“Bokuto?” Akaashi questioned, quirking a perfect eyebrow in question. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out the reason he was currently being cornered, by his own team, no doubt.

“We’ve come to share some words of encouragement,” Bokuto cleared his throat, his chest puffing out and looking as if he were about to deliver a resolute speech. Everyone stared at him expectantly, only to blink at the sight of Bokuto taking a step to the side and shoving Konoha in front of him. “Ladies first.”

With a long, weary sigh, Konoha looked at Akaashi. “We know you have a crush on someone,” Akaashi’s eyes widened slightly at the revelation, as he cast Bokuto a weary glance, “and that you may be too nervous to admit it to them. We’ve all come here to tell you that there’s nothing to be worried about and that whoever it is would be crazy to reject someone like you.” Konoha looked at the surrounding boys, his eyes pointed and face reading a demanding plea for one of them to continue his heartfelt oration.

Sarukui quickly piped up, as this was his idea, after all. “Yeah, Konoha is right. And even if they do reject you, we’ll be here to cheer you up!” he smiled, holding a thumbs up.

Soon, everyone began adding in their own words of encouragement. By the end of it, Bokuto was the last one to yet say anything. All heads turned to him, but he didn’t notice them for he was looking at Akaashi with a bright smile.

“Akaashi, you’re my best friend!” Everyone sighed, ready to disperse and leave at the so-called ‘motivating’ words of Bokuto, but they stopped when Bokuto continued on speaking. “But it’s time to fess up to her, man,” Bokuto offered a sympathetic smile, setting a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezing lightly for a second. “You’re always there to cheer me up, and although I would hate it if you’re sad, please allow me to do the same if your feelings aren’t accepted.” After this, Bokuto’s words fell short and all the attention was now on Akaashi, impatiently waiting for his response.

Akaashi scanned the faces of his friends, his eyes falling on Bokuto’s last. Lifting a hand, Akaashi set it upon Bokuto’s which still rested on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, like he had done to him earlier. 

“Thank you, everyone, your words have definitely moved me into reconsidering my previous decision to not act upon anything,” Akaashi admitted thoughtfully, a fond smile on his face. His mind was made up now, he would confess to you, whether you knew him or not - it didn’t matter, for the both of you would have all the time in the world to get to know each other.

-

The next day at school, you were restricted from getting into class by a blocking torso. You looked up, blushing at the sight of Akaashi, who had been your crush for a while now. You expected him to have been looking off in the distance, not even acknowledging you, but when his eyes met yours, you shuddered. Was he...looking at you?

“(Name),” your eyes widened in genuine surprise, he knew your name? You figured he had heard you being called out during class, but you never anticipated him to have remembered the name of a nobody like you. Akaashi radiated that cool facade that all the girls went crazy over, he was indifferent to most things but his demeanour demanded other’s interest. At least, that’s how you saw him, for you eyes instinctively found him whenever he entered a room. Realizing you had been quiet for too long, you hurried to reply, noticing his look of patience before doing so that prompted you to take your time.

“Akaashi! How can I help?” you cringe internally at the strain of your voice, overthinking your tone mentally. You sounded so nervous in comparison to his serene articulate.

Akaashi cracked a ghost of a smile, but it vanished before you could take note of it. You knew his name, and it made his heart skip a beat and swell in pride simultaneously. With you being generally shy, he wondered if it was safe to assume that you knew his name because you wanted to, considering you two have never spoken before and only shared one class together. “I was hoping I could get your permission to take you out on a date. I would enjoy it if we could get to know each other better as I may hold deeper feelings for you.” Akaashi decided he wouldn’t hold back with his confession, and to just say it as it is.

“I-” you stuttered, at a loss for words as your mouth parted slightly. Feeling your cheeks burn hotter, you nodded your head enthusiastically, not wanting to leave him waiting too long for a reply that he would take your silence negatively. Akaashi smiled, albeit slightly, and gave you a court nod in understanding.

“We can discuss more during lunch, where can I find you?” Akaashi stepped to the side, allowing you to finally enter the barely filled classroom. The both of you spoke for a while longer, with you answering his question and him saying he would meet up with you there before the conversation drifted into random interests which you both shared. Once the teacher arrived, everyone got to their assigned seats and although you had just spoken to him a minute ago, you turn to look at Akaashi, only to smile as you already find him looking at you.

[dreamingabouttaron]

The Assistant Part 6

You swallow your pride and place a smile on your face. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You struggle to control your breathing. You feel yourself getting lightheaded. You felt humiliated.

“It’s lovely to meet you Emily.” You gently take her soft hand in yours and shake it trying to be polite. It wasn’t as if she had done anything wrong. You couldn’t blame her for wanted to be nice.

“T, let me help you.” You watch as Emily and Taron place their luggage on the trolly. It was clear he was avoiding eye contact, he didn’t even look at you to see how you were. You feel your eyes begin to burn as tears start to form in your eyes. You sharply close your eyes and attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. You couldn’t cry here, not in front of everyone. Especially not in front of Taron and Emily.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll see you inside in a moment. Let me know when you’re done.” You knew the best thing you could do right now was to remove yourself from this hellish situation.  You didn’t even wait for a reply before you allowed your feet to carry you back into the terminal. You felt the hot tears burn down your cheeks as you hurried into the ladies bathroom. You were thankful to see there wasn’t a usual cue as you rushed into a cubical and quickly locked the door.

You couldn’t control the emotions that were pouring out of you. Everything that had happened over the last few weeks had been a complete rollercoaster and this was your boiling point. You pressed your back again the cool door as you placed your head in your hands to muffle the cries. You knew you had no right to be upset, he didn’t owe you anything. But you just felt stupid and embarrassed. How could you fall for his tricks? How can you be so stupid? Why allow your heart to rule over your head?

As you gathered your thoughts and allows your emotions to calm, you reached into your pocket to retrieve your phone and sent James a text.

A girlfriend!!! A bloody girlfriend! Did you know about this? I feel so embarrassed.

You placed your phone back into your pocket, wiped your face and took a deep breath before you left the cubical. You walked over to the wash basins and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes looked bloodshot and puffy. You could see tear stains run down your cheeks. You looked a sight. You turned the tap on warm and placed your hands underneath in a bowl shape. You took one last look at yourself before raising the water to your face. The warm water cooled your stinging eyes. You were glad you didn’t put make up on this morning or else you would have had mascara all over your face. 

You raised water up to your face one last time when you felt a hand touch your shoulder blade. You turned to your left and saw Emily next to you washing her hands. You internally cursed and looked at your reflection in the mirror, you had water dripping off your chin, your hairline was now damp and your top had several drip marks over it. You had never felt more like Bridget Jones in your life.

“Here. Take this.” Emily handed you a hand towel. It was sweet gesture which made you scorn yourself internally more.

“Thank you.” You replied as you wiped the remaining water off your face.

“Are you okay? Taron thought something was wrong back there.”

Oh, had he? I wonder why?! You think to yourself.

“No, I’m okay. I just suddenly came over woozy.” You try to convince her, “My driver was all over the place, it was a very bumpy ride. Not what you want first thing in the morning.” You plaster that smile back on your face as you look her up and down again. How could you compare to that?

“Oh no that’s awful. I’m sorry. If you feel like that again, let me know. I can hold your hair back if you need me to. It’s awful when you don’t feel good.”

Why was she being so nice? If only she had known what had almost happened a few weeks ago. She would be putting my face into the toilet instead of holding my hair back.

You both gather your things and head back out to where Taron was standing on his phone waiting. You still couldn’t forgive him for what he had done and you knew he needed to know that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be humiliated like that again. You knew you needed to separate your personal and private life. You were here to work, not for Taron’s pleasure.

***

Before long you were all sat waiting at the boarding gate waiting to board the aircraft. You had all been civil and conversation had been sparse between you all as you made your way through the airport. You knew the journey would only be a few hours but you were glad that Taron and Emily were sitting in first class whilst you sat in business. You needed a few hours to yourself to accumulate your thoughts.

“I’m going to pop to the bathroom one last time. I’ll be back in a second.” You watch as Emily wander off leaving Taron and you sat in the corner on your own.

You feel the tension build in the air. Neither of you speaking. You knew you both had things you wanted to say and you didn’t have long before Emily would be back. You didn’t know how much alone time you would have with Taron now that Emily was in the picture.

“So?” You announce making Taron look at you with a sheepish look upon his face. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Megan, please.” He whispers not wanting to cause a scene.

“What the heck Taron! I’m so confused! Did I get the wrong end of the stick? Why did you invite me here?”

Taron shakes his head, “No, no! Look. It’s been a really complicated few weeks for me. I’ve had a lot to think about. I’m sorry for not contacting you. I didn’t know what to say, so I hid away and I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

You watch Taron whilst also keeping an eye out for Emily. You tried to remain as calm as you could.

“Megan, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have put you in this situation. I also didn’t expect Em to come with me. It was last minute thing and I didn’t get to chance to tell you.”

You nod and listen to Taron’s apology. “We do really need to talk though and this isn’t really a great time or place knowing your ‘girlfriend’ is just around the corner.” You knew it was a dig but you couldn’t help it.

You watch Taron bow his head in shame, “ I know, I’m sorry. We will! I’ll make sure we get some time together alone.” You watch Taron stop in his tracks as Emily glides back over to you just as someone announces it’s time for us to board the plane.

You pick up your bag and you all head over to line up. You all wait in line in silence. You flick through your passport in an attempt to distract yourself, you didn’t want to start up a conversation with either of them right now.

As you all gathered onto the plane you turned to Taron and Emily and nodded in acknowledgement as you parted ways, them turning left and you turning right.

“See you in a few hours Megan.” Emily waves as you walk off down the aisle. You find your seat and rummage around in your bag for your headphones. Once found, you plug them into your phone. As your phone lights up you see a message had come through from James.

WHAT?! You can’t be serious! Babe, keep me updated! I want all the details!

You feel a warm sensation in your chest as you read his message. At least you’re not the only one that’s thrown by this. Just as you were replying you see another message come through from Taron.

I’m so sorry. See you on the other side T. x

You shake your head in frustration and decide to leave him on seen. It wasn’t going to do him any harm leaving him waiting and thinking about what he’d done.

The majority of your flight was smooth. The flight was fairly empty so you could spread out and enjoy the space. You didn’t mind flying, it was something you had always done. You used to go on family holidays a lot when you were young which meant you got to see a lot of the world from an early age. It was something you were very grateful for.

The hours flew by and before you knew it the seat belt sign above you disappeared. You unraveled your headphones and placed them back into your bag before leaving the aircraft. You instantly felt the temperate different after you stepped off the plane. The air was sharp making you wrap your jacket closer to your body. In the distance you watched Taron and Emily. They looked happy. They looked good together. You wondered how long they had been together. You resistantly caught up with the pair.

“Good flight?” You asked. You were determined to not make this awkward and you knew you had a job to do.

“Not bad, were you okay on your own?” Taron questions, you could see he was being genuine. You nod and smile in an attempt to reassure him.

“Did you get my message?” He asked quietly into your ear. You looked at him with a slight scorn on your face.

“What message?” Emily piped up. Taron took her hand and squeezed it lightly.

“It was about the new schedule which came through before we took off.” Taron assures her.

Wow, he’s good. You thought and internally rolled your eyes.

The rest of your time in the airport was quick. The thing that took the longest was waiting and collecting everyones luggage. Once you found your bag you told the others that you were going to check if your car had arrived to take you to the hotel. You made your way out to the loading bay at the front of the airport and found the person holding the sign with your names on it. You introduced yourself and informed them that Taron and Emily would shortly be following. They took your bag and placed it into the back of the car as you spotted Emily and Taron. You waved to get their attention. You helped them to pile their bags into the back of the car as a young boy came over to Taron.

“Excuse me?” A small shy voice was heard.

Taron looked down at the boy and stopped what he was doing.

“May I have a picture with you? I really love Kingsman.”

You look over and smile at the boys parents who were patiently waiting for him to meet Taron. You watch as Taron talks to the young boy and takes a picture with him. It warms your heart knowing how touched Taron would be seeing the boy of about eleven look at him with admiration in his eyes. The boy soon thanked Taron and returned back to his parents as you all gathered into the waiting car. All three of you are squashed into the back of the car, Taron between you and Emily. It was a right squeeze. You watched Emily place her hand on Taron’s thigh. You felt his body tense up at her touch. You turn to look out the window watching your surrounding whizz past. You had only booked a car for you and Taron and you had now wished you’ve had booked a larger car.

***

As you arrived at the hotel you would be staying in for the next few weeks, you walked over to the reception and informed them Taron and you had arrived. You soon got your room keys and walked back over to the couple passing over their keys. You all squished into the elevator and headed up to the seventh floor. You followed the signs to your room only to discover your rooms were opposite each other. Great. You thought as you internally rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to have a nap and freshen up. I’ll see you guys later.” You announce as you unlock your room and head inside. Thank god you were on your own. You needed time to yourself to mentally prepare yourself for the rest of this trip.

[gaystardust]

Domesticity [Kanera Week Day 3: love languages/show of support]

Synopsis: Love Languages were created to explain the different ways that people show love to those around them. They are: physical touch, acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation and receiving gifts. Hera and Kanan have been together long enough that these are routine - but that doesn’t make them less important. And Kanan has a plan to prove that. Rating: General Audience Warnings: Mentions of Kanan’s past, mentions of dysphoria involving a non-POV character. AO3 Link: [link] A/N: Please note, this fic also contains badly used Mando’a, trans!Ezra, and some very out of character behaviour. But I refuse to believe that Kanan, raised in the Jedi Temple, which is objectively a communal society, wouldn’t have a streak of domesticity hidden not-so-deep in his personality. @kaneraweek

  The ship was finally quiet, no kids running around, no Lasat causing problems, no calls coming through from somewhere or another. It was a peace they didn’t often get, and one Kanan had looked forward to for hours - days even.

He didn’t bother knocking before he entered Hera’s quarters, kicking off his boots as the door closed behind him.

Hera was sat on her bunk, leaning back on the pillows, datapad held up in front of her face. Her nose was scrunched up as she read, her focus so complete that she didn’t react to Kanan entering the room, even though she must have noticed.

Kanan padded over quietly, sitting on the end of the bed so he could pull her legs over his lap.

Hera didn’t even look up from her pad. “Hello, love. Everyone in bed?”

He ran his thumb over her ankle in little repeated circles.

“Just about,” he said quietly, not wanting to break the quiet feeling hanging over the room. “Zeb is walking Kallus back, and I dropped the kid back in his bunk.”

Hera laughed as she continued to flick through her notes. “Didn’t manage to beat you at being awake, then?”

He hummed instead of replying, leaning back against the cool metal wall. His eyes flickered shut, fingers still running over smooth skin.

Hera’s voice was light and beautiful even in her teasing. “Looks like he only just lost.”

A hand looped behind his neck, gently pulling him sideways until he was lying on his side. His forehead pressed against Hera’s thigh and a hand reached to scratch against his scalp.

The noise he made was one of complete bliss, followed by a huff of frustration when the hand moved away.

“Come on love, come here,” Hera said quietly, leading him with a hand under his arm, until Kanan lay directly beside her, head on her shoulder, arm over her waist. “Want to watch some more Starstreaks?”

It took a moment for him to process the question. “I thought you were doing work?”

“It can wait until the morning.” Hera pressed a kiss to his temple as she scrolled through the options on the datapad. “Right now, I just want to spend time with you.”

Kanan melted further into her, but almost immediately felt more awake. It had been weeks since they’d managed time to themselves, and months more since it had been move than a few stolen minutes between jobs or wrapped in post-mission exhaustion.

His arm wrapped tighter across her body.

He’d missed it.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” Hera pointed out quickly. “So, Starstreaks?”

“Ehhh, I’d rather watch something with a little more action.” Kanan reached out to flick the screen further, pulling up the other series they were watching. They were almost all long-running series they hadn’t seen before, with a few comfort comedies thrown in. Nothing caught his attention.

“What? Don’t want something that’ll make you cry?” Hera asked, making Kanan snort.

“I don’t think we’ve ever watched something that makes me cry.” When Hera broke into laughter, he did too. “I’m serious! We haven’t!”

Hera shushed him, putting her fingers ever so slightly over his mouth. “Okay, okay! I don’t believe you, but the kids are asleep and we don’t want to wake them up.”

Kanan hummed to himself, looking over the list. “Are we actually going to watch it, or are we just using it for background noise?”

He felt Hera shrug more than he saw it. “I don’t mind.”

Nodding to himself, Kanan hovered over West of Jeddha, an action film old enough that he could remember smuggling it into the Creche with Cal and Ferren. He didn’t say anything, just waiting for Hera to react.

Hera knew all of the layers of what he wasn’t asking. She settled back against the pillows, reaching to tap it herself.

She pulled him closer as the film loaded through.

The opening monologue was one Kanan knew maybe a little too well, mumbling the words as they were spoken in that one Outer Rim accent used in the films, the one that barely covered the actors’ own Core Worlds accents.

“Nothing we did could have saved us. People said we had to hope.” His voice dropped lower, crackling over the next words with over-exaggerated emotion. “No. Hope would get us nowhere. What we had to do was fight.”

Hera scoffed. “I hate that line. You might need to fight, but you still need hope. Otherwise you’d burn through your energy for the cause without accomplishing anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kanan rolled his eyes, jabbing her in the side. “You say that every time we watch this.”

She hummed in quiet agreement, watching the opening credits roll. Kanan shuffled to get more comfortable before he spoke up again. “How was your day?”

“Busy,” Hera huffed to herself, reaching up to scratch her nails across the back of his head. Her fascination with his hair had its benefits. “Reports, meetings, planning. The same things I do every day, but still exhaustingly different.”

“That’s the nature of rebellion.” He didn’t bother keeping the infuriation out of his voice.

Hera shoved him slightly, fingers tickling across his side. “How was training?”

“It’s going well, I think,” he replied with a small frown, “Ezra learns quickly, but his focus is… well, it’s not great, is it?.” Again, Hera hummed in her agreement, nodding. “But I know he’s trying, and it seems to be going well, so I can’t complain.”

“Good,” Hera turned to press her lips to his forehead. “I’m glad, I was worried how it would go today after so many missions without a training session.”

Kanan shrugged. “Hey, every mission’s practice, even if it’s not the kind we’re hoping for.”

They fell quiet again, and Kanan let him become absorbed in the characters on screen. One, a monk who cared for the Temple of the Whills, was staring across a long, winding river covered in brightly dyed flowers. Around him were crowds of people, enjoying the festival of light and colour.

“If we ever get out of this,” he said quietly, not wanting to speak the words out loud, “we should visit Jeddha.”

There was a pause, but he could feel Hera watching him. “Did you go there? Before?”

‘Before’ was a tenuous concept, but one he felt settle around him. Something bubbled in his stomach, a feeling of deep sadness he took hold of for only a moment before releasing it with a long exhale.

“No. We talked about it, how we should go so I could visit the Whills - every Padawan back then did, at some point during their training - but, well…” He didn’t mean to trail off, but he couldn’t say out loud what he needed to say, “You know.”

Hera’s arms tensed around him, a comforting amount of pressure settling around his body. On screen, the monk had returned to the Temple. Red materials floated around him, caught on the same breeze as the smoke from the burning buildings just out of shot.

“Are you sleeping in here tonight?” Hera spoke just as quietly as he had done, as if the quiet felt important to her as well. “I might need to be up early, for a briefing with Ahsoka.”

Kanan just nodded, unwilling to break it. He settled himself further into her warmth, letting comfort wash over him like it rarely did. “Of course. Always.”

——-

Kanan woke when Hera stirred, twitching her legs as she finally woke up. He was alert instantly, but Hera took her time before leaving the confined space of their bed with a kiss on his temple. Moments later, she padded out of the room towards the fresher and the highly coveted water shower that was only available when they docked for long enough.

Kanan, on the other hand, preferred showering later in the day. Maybe it was the difference between her jobs and his, but he would rather wait until he had wrangled his unruly padawan into some kind of physical training, making him sweaty and actually in need of a shower.

And, besides, he had a plan to get on with. A very, very important plan.

He pulled himself upright, heading for the collection of clothing that sat in one of Hera’s draws (one that he maybe should count as his, but still didn’t). His trousers would be clean, there was no point replacing them, but he tried to change his shirt every day when he could.

He left his jumper on the floor where he’d thrown it the night before. It would be fine - it had survived worse.

He didn’t bother with his boots either, his socked feet padding quietly along the corridor to the living area.

The kitchen space on the Ghost was cramped, not great for cooking anything complex, but they made sure to keep it well-stocked for the crews’ favourites - including the recent addition of some spices Kanan had never heard of, but Kallus seemed to enjoy.

From the cupboard, he pulled the fluffy grains Hera preferred, and some of the flatter oats the kids did, settling for mixing the two together in the same pot with plenty of water and some powdered milk. Into there he added some of the seeds he’d left out to soak overnight to turned a sticky, pale pink. They would keep the porridge thick and silky, despite the lack of real milk they had on board.

As they cooked, the orange and red of the grains mixed with the blue of the milk, washing the whole meal out to a strange pink-grey. He dropped in a collection of sweet-spices at random, along with some sugar they had lying on the side.

Keeping half an eye on the pot, which was cooking slowly on the low heat, Kanan turned to the hydroponics unit on the opposite side. They had handfuls of berries and a few meiloorun they’d managed to steal from an Imperial supply line a few days before, and honestly, it was impressive any were left.

Slicing the fruit was meditative, the bubbling happening on the back, the smell of warmth and comfort. He could sink into the feeling of preparing breakfast for his partner, the kids, whatever Zeb counted as.

Moving meditation was not his favourite, but Kanan could appreciate it on a morning like this.

The door slid open, revealing a sleep clothing-clad Sabine, still rubbing her eyes. She looked, if anything, a little lost. “Kanan?”

“Hey, ad’ika.” Rex had called Sabine that when they first met, and the look on her face had made Kanan adopt it. He didn’t regret it yet. “Everything alright?”

Sabine’s hair fluttered as she shook her head, the blue and green of her fringe mixing from its neat lines. “I can’t find my paints.”

Kanan blinked at her, moving to stir the porridge again. “Isn’t it just in your room?”

“No!” The amount of pain in her voice - definitely a side effect of just waking up - showed her age in a way she normally didn’t. “I can’t find it anywhere, Kanan. I think Ezra moved it.”

He shook his head, not doubting it but also unwilling to wake Ezra and Zeb up to find out. He folded his hands over his arms, “You sure he moved it? You haven’t just run out because you keep ‘losing’ paint cans while we’re on missions?”

If looks could kill, Kanan would be thoroughly dead. “I’m pretty sure I would remember if I’d lost it all.”

“I’m not doubting that,” he hummed, smiling at her. “How about breakfast before we start looking?”

Sabine sighed for a moment, but sad down without argument. “Where’s Hera? She might have seen them.”

Kanan shook his head. “She’s busy today.”

It took a moment for Sabine to accept, but eventually, she pulled out her datapad and started to scroll through… whatever. Kanan turned back to the porridge, pulling it from the hob just as the door slid open again.

Hera made a happy noise, wrapping her hands around his waist. “Kanan, I could kiss you.”

He leaned over to oblige, just as Sabine called back, “Please don’t!”

Hera laughed pressing a kiss to one of his shoulders instead. “Thank you, love.”

Kanan just smiled. “I thought I’d give you more time to relax this morning.”

He ladled up two bowls, carrying them to the table. The door slid open again before he reached them, the padding and force signature reading as Zeb. He would serve himself whether Kanan let him or not, so he didn’t bother rushing back.

The Lasat was already holding his own bowl and the plate of fruit when Kanan turned around. “Thought I’d give y’ a hand.”

“Thanks, Zeb. Is Ezra up?” He was already heading to the door, assuming the answer already.

Zeb laughed. “That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”

He could hear Hera and Sabine chipping into the conversation, but quickly shifted himself away. Ezra and Zeb’s room was further down the ship than his and Hera’s, but it wasn’t as if the ship had that much space anyway.

The door was open, propped open by what looked like one of Sabine’s paint crates. Ezra was on the top bunk, doing a rather good impression of a nesting tooka.

“Ezra,” Kanan said carefully, moving to nudge the boy awake. He didn’t have to do much physically, the Force bond between them prickling awake as he sent the feeling of morning towards the bundle of fabric and tuft of hair. “Breakfast’s ready - come on.”

Ezra rolled over to face him. He was still mostly covered, just letting his eyes show above the scrunch of blanket. “Do I have to?”

Kanan nodded. “Yeah, you do.” He reached out to ruffle Ezra’s hair, making him jump upright, still holding the quilt in front of him. “We should ask Sabine to cut your hair today as well - you said it was annoying you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s a bit uncomfortable now.” There was nothing in his tone that explained what he meant, but the feeling of discomfort sparking at the other end of their training bond said enough.

And if more shielding practice was quietly added to Kanan’s list of necessary training, then so be it.

Kanan nodded. “I’ll let you get ready, then.” He reached down to take the crate - small, but strangely heavy - from where it blocked the door. Ezra wouldn’t get up unless he thought he had privacy, which Kanan already knew. “Come and join us soon, alright?”

He spotting the washed out, greying binder in the last second before he left. It meant a quick calculation of the training plan, but he tossed it to the fabric pile that was his padawan. “We have Force training today.”

He stepped out of the door before Ezra could reply, heading back along the corridor. Sabine’s room was locked, so he left the crate outside of her door, hoping beyond hope that Ezra wouldn’t be stupid enough to take it again.

Then, on his way back to the rec, and the food that was waiting for him, he stepped into the room he and Hera shared. As much as he would like to sit and have breakfast while the food was still warm, there were other things he needed to do to finish his plan of making Hera’s morning easier.

He made the bed quickly, just pulling the sheet over so it looked straight, before pulling out her flight suit and folding it onto the bed. Hera rarely wore it on a morning, content with being comfortable rather than trying to look the part, but she always wore it to briefings. On top of that, he placed the datapad she’d been reading from the day before. He took a moment, giving it one last look to make sure everything was there, before heading back on his day.

The kitchen itself was warm and full of laughter, making Kanan feel happiness in his bones.

“Sabine?” She looked up as Kanan spoke. “I’ve put your paints outside of your bedroom door. They were just in the hall.”

It was a blatant lie, and Sabine clocked it immediately, but she didn’t argue. “Thanks, Kanan.”

He smiled, collecting his bowl to sit down and eat. “Hey, since I’ve done you that favour, maybe you can do one for me.” Sabine gave him a hesitant nod, picking at the berries in front of her. “Can you cut Ezra’s hair today?”

Her face brightened. “Oh, yeah, sure. Easy.”

Speaking of the nightmare, the door slid open as Ezra stepped in, mostly dressed but still quite dishevelled. He would never have survived growing up at the Jedi Temple. He didn’t greet them past a half-wave, moving straight to the pan and the leftover porridge.

Hera shot Kanan a look, which made him shrug. If letting him be messy meant Ezra would get out of bed on a morning, he was happy to allow it.

When Ezra finally reached the table, Hera stood up to give him her seat “I should go and get ready for this briefing. Kanan, can I talk to you for a moment?”

It was not what he expected, but it was fine. “Sure,” he said with a smile, taking his bowl with him as he went to follow her. No sense leaving the porridge to get any colder.

Hera led him back to their shared room without any indication of why, just moving her way around their space. She didn’t necessarily look surprised when she saw the clothes ready for her, but her shoulders did melt a little. “You even found my datapad.”

Kanan shrugged. “It wasn’t hard to find. It was on the floor where you left it.”

“Still, Kay, you’re doing so much. You always do so much.”

Kanan stepped forward, pulling her into a hug before she could say anymore. Maybe it was because he needed to hide from the compliments, but he wasn’t comfortable letting Hera talk about him without holding her close.

Sadly, Hera could read him too well. She knew his deflection tactics and wasn’t about to let them stand. “Do you know how wonderful you are, Kanan? You do so much for this ship, for the crew. For our family.”

They only said it in the quiet of their room, when they knew the others couldn’t hear them. The weight of it settled on his shoulders.

“I like looking after you all,” Kanan muttered, pulling her closer so he was speaking directly against the top of her head. It was easier to talk like that. “Not that you need it. I like being, well…”

“Domestic?” Hera laughed, the vibrations making him warm. “I know you do. That doesn’t make it any less good.”

He shook his head. “I just made breakfast.”

“You found what I needed for this meeting, just because you could. You helped Sabine find her paints, without causing a fight. You organised a haircut for Ezra before his dysphoria got too bad, before I’d even realised - don’t argue with me, Kanan Jarrus, that isn’t me being hard on myself. Just me saying how incredible you are..” She shuffled backwards so she could see him, but her hands still rested on his arms. “Face it, love, you’ve done a lot this morning. And all of it is so incredibly helpful, I’m not sure how I’ll ever make it up to you.”

Kanan laughed, shrugging as he pulled her back in to press kisses over her chin and nose, up her cheeks, across her forehead and her lek, skipping the band of her head covering. “Watch the sequel to West of Jeddha with me tonight?”

Hera winced, which was fair. The sequel was awful, but he could make it up to her later.

“Please?”

She huffed as if it was a difficult decision. “Fine! Fine. I’ll do it. But you better find some more meiloorun in the next supply run.”

His laughter dropped, but not completely. “You have yourself a deal, Captain.”

Hera looked rather smug. “Good.”

[akp-1327]

dear diary // chapter three

Hey! Long time, no see! I am so, so, so sorry that this chapter is late. I’ve been having a bit of a busy time recently and haven’t had many opportunities to write/edit like usual. But now I have a looser schedule so updates to the series should go back to normal! 😄 I hope you are all doing okay wherever you are! :)

Find the series masterlist here to catch up on the previous chapter!

Word count: 4.6k

(*) Warnings: mentions of bankruptcy and emotional abuse

All I could see was red. The anger that flowed through my veins was terrifyingly smooth, leaving my entire body shaking. The news that my mom just told me, well, sobbed to me, left me in awe. In terrible, heart-wrenching, shocking...awe.

Sweetie, my mom’s sweet and clear voice bellowed through my memory, I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry, darling.

“Charlotte, you need to calm down. Seriously. I don’t know what’s--” Leila said softly, her hands firm on my shaking shoulders.

At a time like this, I didn’t need her soothing me. I needed her to slap me out of this impending doom that I thought would tear me apart. I needed to get a grip on reality, to comprehend that this entire nightmare was actually happening.

“Leila, do you know what my mom just told me?” I huffed, throwing my phone onto the tidy bed that I had just made. Our first night in New York had started off amazingly, as if it was taken straight out of a movie; we met new and amazing people, found Leila’s wayward bag, explored the dorm building...

Then, when called my mom once we got back to our dorm...everything came crashing down like a colossal, teetering tower of Jenga blocks.

Leila scowled at me then, squeezing my shoulders harder. Her eyes, usually a coffee bean brown, looked inky black when her entire demeanor changed from confused to quite ticked off. I immediately regretted the tone I used, though there was no going back now.

“Does it look like I do? God, you can be so dense sometimes!” Leila stated, glaring right into my eyes with a look that sent a chill down my spine. “Something’s up and you need to tell me immediately.”

This wasn’t something that I thought I could even have the guts to say. But, sooner than I though, words started forming on the tip of my tongue at the speed of light; but one stood out in particular, one chilling me to the bone.

“Bankrupt.”

This set her back, making her hands falter a bit on my shoulders.

“What? Charlotte, I need deta--”

“The diner, Leila.”

The words slowly tore my heart into microscopic pieces. Every notable memory I had from my childhood took place at the diner. I could distinctly remember the scent of buttermilk pancake batter being mixed and the sounds of plates being stacked. I could remember the outside, the bright yellow paint standing out against the lifeless gray colors of the neighborhood that it’s surrounded by.

“T-The Golden Griddle?” Leila asked, confusion consuming her features once more. The intense look in her eyes slowly fizzled out and turned into pure fret. As she’d always been, Leila was not well-composed in these types of situations.

“Yes. There’s just too many complications with the building, too many expenses and so little money...” I sighed sadly. Tears welled in my eyes, though I didn’t need to show Leila that. And so, with a deep breath, I sniffled and shook my head to clear the emotions away. “My dad spent what he could to fix the cheaper things like the light fixtures and seats, but then he got carried away with fixing the rest of the bigger issues. It all added up over time, Leila. Now the diner...the diner doesn’t have anything left.”

The diner had so, so many issues for such a long time. The interior, for as long as I could remember, was small. There were only ten tables, half of those being booths that lined the walls, in total. The kitchen was also considerably compact for the amount of business that the diner would face. My parents always wanted to get around to renovate properly, but could never keep up with the overwhelming amounts of money spent on necessities like ingredients, napkins, utensils, advertisements...so DIY projects and repairs it was.

“But your parents still own it, right? They can bounce back?”

My heart yearned to be at home with my family. Why would I leave? God, I really am dense. Forget school, forget dreams. Home is where I should’ve been when that news was unveiled, not thousands of miles away.

“No. I guess the health inspector said that there were so many things with the building that set off a lot of red flags. He condemned it right on the spot.”

Leila’s eyebrow’s furrowed in thought. It was never easy for me to talk about these things - the serious things - with her. Of course, though, she knew almost everything about me; she knew that I was never the “open book” type and would always need a bit of encouragement to work my way up to talking things through. I’d rather sit and wallow in my misery than get help. The whole mindset had definitely not been ideal for anyone, but that was always the least of my worries.

The moment Leila looked back into my eyes was the moment she started to speak, her voice soft like it was before; again, I didn’t need to be sympathized, I needed to be able to see reason. This whole thing caught me completely off-guard.

Leila whispered, shaking her head, “How did this even happen?”

In high school, a very wise teacher of mine once said that there is no such thing as a stupid question, only stupid people who ask questions. However, by the looks of it, this was definitely an exception. Even with her ingenious, Leila had just asked one of the stupidest questions known to man. 

She knew exactly how this happened, and has known for years. The Golden Griddle’s financial instability had never, ever been able to be kept secret in a town such as Ceder Cove, no matter how many times my parents tried.

“Oh, wait. Sorry.” Leila stammered, looking up at the ceiling to collect herself.

“It’s fine. I just can’t fathom what my parents are going through right now. Henry, too.” I sighed, stepping back from Leila and letting my shoulders deflate. I slowly sat on the edge of my bed and crossed my legs, my gaze trained on the aged wood floor. “Even if I should, I’m not calling my mom back with more details tonight. This...this is just too much for me to handle right now.”

Leila was silent and I looked up to see her scrolling through her phone. 

Seriously? I cleared my throat to get her attention...but she didn’t even flinch.

“Leila. Are you even listening to me? Or...are you texting Skye?”

Leila’s eyes immediately averted from her phone to look at me. The smallest hint of a blush crept into her cheeks, though she played it off and rolled her eyes.

“Actually, Erin wants to take us shopping for the party next week when we’re available. Check your phone.” Leila stated, a defensive edge in her tone. I was the one to roll my eyes this time.

Now, let’s get this straight; I am not fond of parties. Leila had dragged me to each homecoming, each winter formal, and the two prom nights that we had. My date to prom both years, a guy named Harold Longhorn (a total snob), would not shut up about politics or the “oh-so-stupid” stock market. I only went with him because he said he’d tutor me for free with my AP Euro and AP Chem homework in collateral. Oh, and did I mention that his dad is a major entrepreneur in the Portland area? Wait, that’s unimportant; just like every single party I’ve ever been to in my life. 

“Do I have to go? I’d rather stay here and reread Pride & Prejudice for the millionth time or something that I actually enjoy. Dancing the night away doesn’t sound as interesting to me as my daily dose of Mr. Darcy.”

Leila scoffed and looked over at me again, her eyebrow quirked in such a way that left me a bit uneasy.

“News flash, Charlotte Parker, but Mr. Darcy is fictitious and will not save you from this.” Leila scolded, though she was playful about it. “I’m not letting you stay here because you’re a college girl now and you need to socialize with people other than me!”

“Ughhhh,” I groaned, laying down onto my bed and turning away from her and burying my face into my pillow that sadly smelt like home, “you sound just like my mom!”

Leila burst out into laughter that sent a faint chill down my spine. Whatever her plans were, she knew I’d loathe them.

“I’m glad.”

*

*

August 10th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Okay. Sorry for the radio silence. Lots has happened over the course of a couple weeks that I need to get off my chest. As Scar would say, be prepared...

First off, NYU is amazing. I’ve already met lots of (!!) people, though 4 have become friends! Two girls, two guys: Skye, Erin, Rory, and Ajay. They’re all really down-to-earth and genuinely cool people that I’m getting along with! 

Rory and Leila are really like two peas in a pod, and so are Skye and Leila. Leila is just a social butterfly, so she honestly gets along with everyone. Erin and Ajay, though, are more mellow and easy-going. Erin is so...laid back? Like she’s the type of person that you could spill your life story to. She’s just so, I don’t know... nonchalant? - definitely in a good way.

However, I feel more drawn to Ajay; we share similar interests and outlooks on life. He even saw my performance at Spotlite! He’s also a student director here at NYU, so if I do somehow wind up in the show, I’d probably work with him. It even helps that he’s kinda cute, but you didn’t hear that from me.

Overall, though, the campus is absolutely stunning and the view from our dorm window takes my breath away each and every morning.

Second, The Golden Griddle is doomed right now due to both bankruptcy and condemnation. My parents are all torn up about it, and to be blatantly honest, so am I. The diner has always been a home away from home, and now that I may have to face losing it forever...

Third, I HATE PARTIES. With a deep, burning passion.

Leila, if you’re reading this, then you can call me George Eacker: piss off because I’m watching this show - also known as Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist - now...well..when you’re at the party! There’s no way in hell that I’m stepping foot into anything resembling a disco or a dance or even, god forbid, a hoedown like that one during our sophomore year. Nope, nope, nope. Over my dead body.

All in all, I’m having a wonderful time settling into my new life in New York. Of course I miss home, but I also feel like it was time for me to spread my wings and learn to fly!

Alright. I gotta run. I’m going shopping. And, yes, it’s regrettably for this pointless party that I’m being forced to go to against my will. 

Talk, er, write soon!

Charlotte :)

*

*

“Ooo, what’re you writing about?” Leila asked, barging back into our slightly messy dorm after finishing with her morning routine. I hastily closed my diary and forced a smile.

“Um, it’s just the address of my uncle’s new house! Mom said to write it down somewhere in case I lost my phone.”

Shoot. Thank God Leila wasn’t really paying much attention to catch how bad of an excuse that was; she just turned her back to me and scavenged through a pile of dirty clothes already heaped in the corner by her closet. It’s been six days since we’ve moved in. I still haven’t really organized nor have I gotten around to calling my parents or Henry with updates about the diner.

“Right, right. He moved a couple days ago. Though, with our plans today, are you ready to go? Erin and Skye are already waiting for us downstairs.” Leila said, grabbing her purse. I gave her a scowl and grabbed my own, sighing as I slung it on my shoulder.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. But I have one quick question,” I said, finally catching her attention, “why are you wearing those?”

My eyes went to the unscuffed black stilettos on her feet; they had to have been at least 5 inches tall. She laughed and instinctively brought one of her ankles up to rub it as if she’d been in pain. The stilettos were paired with a pair of skinny and holey whitewash jeans and a black Shinedown sweatshirt with a crow and a butterfly printed in white; from what I remember, that was one of the band’s songs.

“I’m wearing these to the party so I figured I’d break them in a little first. And I need to find a dress that looks good with them, so why not?”

“Fair warning, you might actually break something else before you walk a block in those death traps.” I teased, making her huff. This was obviously not something she wanted to hear, but let’s remember who was dragging me to this stupid party in the first place. My sarcasm comes with the territory!

“Jesus, you make it sound like I’m breaking a law! They’re just heels!” Leila laughed, shaking her head. Her hair had been in two Dutch braids, making her outfit even more unique. To each their own, I suppose.

“Just heels that might put you on crutches,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I slipped my (comfortable) light pink flip flops on. We headed down to the lobby and quickly spotted Erin, chatting with Rory and Ajay, and Skye standing a little off to the side.

“Ah, there you guys are!” Erin grinned, running over and leading us over to the group.

“I thought this was a girl trip?” I asked, playfully eyeing the guys. Ajay gave a tight-lipped smile and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, it is. We were just heading out to find Rory another outfit that he apparently needs because his six other ones aren’t enough.” Ajay explained, making direct eye contact with me. I could see the different blends of brown tinges in his eyes - the light from both the windows and the bulbs above hitting just the right angles - shimmer behind his glasses. I also noticed that he was wearing a simple green t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts with black Nike’s. 

Wait, what?

“I may have a slight obsession with shopping,” Rory said sheepishly, slowly creeping away from the group, “but I also need something fresh. I can’t be seen in the same maroon shirt that I wore to--”

Ajay’s groan interrupted him but he followed in Rory’s footsteps with a small shrug. “We’ll be going now. Have fun.”

I immediately felt myself missing his eyes. The brown sparkles that caught my own. Was it so wrong to find his eyes...gorgeous? Didn’t think so.

As they waved goodbye, Leila migrated from my side to Skye’s. The redhead looked particularly sad today, but let out the slightest trace of a smile when Leila started talking to her.

“So, where’re we going to go first, o’ wise Erin?” I asked, turning to her. She looked a bit lost in thought, a bit dazed when our eyes met, but I could tell she regained herself before she answered.

“Well, I thought we’d take a trip to The Shops today,” Erin said smugly, her hand resting on her hip, “we can take an Uber in case we want to make other stops along the way!”

Skye visibly revolted at the thought, her arms tightening around her chest and her glower intensifying. The way her blue eyes darkened was just a bit unsettling, too.

“Okay. Sounds good...” I sighed, gripping my leather purse strap a bit tighter.

“Sure,” Skye groaned, “good. Great. Grand. Just how I wanted to spend my day.”

*

*

The nearby mall, The Shops, had a wide array of stores that we buzzed in and out of, Erin and Leila eagerly leading the way.

“You know,” I said, looking over at Skye, “I really don’t understand why we need new clothes for this party.”

Skye shrugged. “Me neither. I never really had to get new clothes for the banquets that I went to as a kid with my parents.” 

I instantly noticed that her hands were in tight fists at her sides.

“What do your parents do?” I asked, trying to keep her talking. I really wanted to get to know her better; she was still such a mystery and I was destined to change that.

Though, the bitter grimace she gave at the question was all the hint that I needed to know that I’d said something wrong, maybe even crossed a line.

“They do nothing but make a lot of money and prioritize themselves over anything else, even their own kids.”

Oh, wow. I blinked rapidly, willing my brain to say, something, anything, to break the agonizing silence building between us.

“Oh. I’m sorry I brought it up.” I stammered, though she shook her head.

“It’s okay. It’s just...not something I really like to talk about.” Skye sighed, almost ruefully. Despite my pending curiosity, I left the topic be.

“What’re you here in New York to do, Skye?” I asked instead, hoping to lighten her spirits a little. When she looked back over at me, she gave me a neutral expression.

“Graphics,” Skye stated, her tone firm and assured, “I want to be a graphics designer.”

“That’s really interesting. Have you designed anything yourself?”

Sadly, before I could hear her answer, Erin and Leila gasped in unison and pointed to a store. A quick glance at the shop name was enough to make me roll my eyes.

“Windsor! Yes!” Leila squealed, bolting into the store without a second thought. Erin rushed after her, gesturing for Skye and I to follow.

Several racks of dresses filled the store and even lined the walls, some popping with bright color and some glittering with infinite sparkle. I watched Leila pluck several dresses off their racks and fold them over her arm, shaking my head.

“Wow, look at this abomination.” Skye murmured, plucking a dress made of plastic (well, not literally, but basically) off the rack. It was a flamingo pink and looked like something a Barbie doll would wear. A laugh escaped her as she sifted through and pulled out the other options, the colors ranging from a vibrant cobalt to a neon yellow.

“I’ve always wanted to be Barbie disguised as a highlighter! Skye, how’d you know?” I giggled, taking a resembling green one off the same rack. My poor eyes ached at the sight of all the vivid colors.

“Pure intuition, obviously.” Skye responded, putting the dresses back on the rack. “Jeez, I could never wear any of these.”

I could agree; I would never be able to pull any of these off. Also, it didn’t help that they were so effervescent and looked severely uncomfortable. (I mean, how do you even move in that kind of material?)

“Me neither,” I said wistfully, plucking another dress off a nearby rack. It was a black sweetheart-necklined dress that cut off at (what I’d say) the knee. It had some lace detailing on the straps and a few sparkles scattered across both the bodice and the skirt. It wasn’t over-the-top, nor was it boring...

I held it up to Skye, making her jump back a little with surprise. I giggled and closed an eye, coming to a conclusion about how this dress would look incredible on her.

“Whoa, what’re--” Skye asked, her eyes widening. I smiled warmly and laid it over her arm.

“I think this is a good option for you, and I’m guessing your a 4?” I smirked, watching her gape in both confusion and amusement.

“How’d you...know?”

“Pure intuition, obviously.” I playfully mocked, making her crack a tiny smile. As we continued throughout the store, we came across a few more ridiculously bright options, thankfully not made out of a faux plastic. 

About five minutes into our little exploration, I spotted a dress; it was a silvery mauve skater dress with a flowing skirt and spaghetti straps. By some sort of force, it spoke to me.

“That’s pretty,” Skye said, nodding in approval as I held it up, “ it definitely speaks ‘girl who can read minds’ to me.”

Oh jeez, she’s cool. She’s really cool.

“Perfect, it’s just what I’m looking for, then,” I joked, folding the dress over my arm and walking further into the store. Erin and Leila, practically having the time of their lives, had their arms brimming with dresses that ranged from super glittery to extremely bright. I could swear I could see a familiar highlighter yellow in Leila’s stack, but that could just be my mind playing tricks on me.

Speaking of Leila, I stifled a giggle as I watched her wobble around in her stilettos, grimacing whenever she walked too fast. Not to say I told you so, Leila, I thought, but...I told you so.

“Ladies!” Erin squealed, pointing back to the dressing room area with her free hand. “Let’s go try these on!”

*

*

“How about this masterpiece?” Leila giggled, sauntering out of the dressing room. Erin burst into laughter, Skye rolled her eyes, and I, well...

“Oh my God, Leila...” I playfully gagged, covering my eyes. Turns out that she really did pick out a highlighter dress to try on. After a few laughs, she turned around and changed into a royal blue dress with a deep V neckline. It was sparkly, sassy, and overall...very Leila.

*

*

“Wow, you look great, Skye!” I cheered, giving her two thumbs-up as she examined herself in the mirror. The dress was a perfect fit and she seemed to be comfortable in it. Her hands idly fiddled with the skirt, experimentally flicking it back and forth in thought.

“It seriously looks amazing on you!” Erin smiled, nodding with approval. Skye gave me a small, appreciative smile in the mirror.

I took a quick glance over at Leila and was met with her wide eyes and deep red cheeks.

*

*

“Charlotte, phew, you look hot!” Leila whistled, gesturing for me to spin around. I didn’t really gush over the “dream dress” as much as I had hoped. In fact, the more I looked at it, the more I disliked it.

“Maybe we can find a different color?” I said, looking back at Erin’s face; she definitely did not like it. She shot up out of her chair and came back a moment later with a similar option. It was the same style of dress but in a jade green shade instead. It was also not as shimmery, but more dull and had ruffles on the neckline.

I ducked back into the dressing room and quickly changed. With just a glance at myself now, I knew I found the one. I stepped back out and saw everyone’s face light up.

“Yup,” Erin said smugly as she crossed her legs, “that’s the one.”

*

*

Erin walked out in a tight-fitting midi white dress that popped against her flawless chocolate brown skin. It had a plunging V-neck and a small slit on the left side that climbed all the way up toward the middle of her thigh. Needless to say...she was killing it.

“Now I just need some hoops...” Erin mumbled as she examined herself. Leila looked over at me and just gaped.

“Stunning!” I said, and Erin gave me a warm and self-satisfied smile.

*

*

Finally, we were heading home in an Uber. But because of how long the shopping took, we decided to stop and get some ice cream from a local parlor; all after persuading the driver to wait for us with a hefty tip.

Erin munched on a mixture of raspberry and vanilla, Leila got creamsicle all over her face, Skye picked at her brownie swirl, and I delightfully ate two scoops of cake batter.

“So. Are you two excited about going to this party now?” Erin asked, eyeing Skye and I. At the same time, we both shook our heads.

“New dress, same feelings.” Skye sighed, looking down into her dish. I nodded in agreement only to hear a dramatic sigh from Leila.

“You two will have fun. We’ll find fun things for you guys!” Leila grinned, glancing at Erin. The two shared a look that, like all the times before, sent a chill down my spine.

“You guys can’t make us have fun.” Skye said, figuring her face was serious; but I looked over to see a teasing smirk on her face.

“Well, we can sure as hell try! Besides, what do you guys have against parties?” Erin said, her tone a bit more tame then it was before. My eyes averted from theirs, and without looking, I could tell Skye was doing the same.

Awkward silence wracked the table for what seemed like hours before Skye spoke up.

“You can thank my parents for being the pessimistic and narcissistic assholes that they are. My distaste originates from them.” Skye said, her teasing tone completely replaced with a hiss. She spoke in a mumbled tone, as if she wished she didn’t want to speak.

“I’ve just never been really...happy with the ones I’ve gone to in the past.” I added awkwardly. I thought about the one good party I went to...and of course it had to be from the diner. Emotions bubbled in my throat and were about to escape before Leila (thankfully) interjected with a disapproving groan.

Then, right after, all three of us got looks of unbridled hope and amusement from Erin.

“That’s going to change because, dearest freshmen, you’ve never experienced a party quite like a college party.”

And it can stay that way, I thought.

*

*

The rest of the ice cream was eaten alongside lighter conversation, and then, FINALLY, we were back in the dorms.

The afternoon flew as I decided to buckle down and unpack the remainder of my things. Leila went to hang out with Erin and Skye (without heels, if you were wondering) as I slaved away at stacking my t-shirts in my closet, that is until I got a knock at my door.

As soon as I opened it, I saw a familiar pair of gorgeous eyes lock onto mine.

“Hi, I know this is kinda weird,” Ajay said casually, “ but I have a question for you.”

I leaned against the door, praying I didn’t look like an uncoordinated mess. “It’s not weird at all, actually. Shoot.”

God, his eyes are just breathtaking in any and every way. Was it weird to be obsessing over an acquaintance’s eyes like this? Yes, I thought, yes it was.

“Well, since we really don’t want to go to the party, I was hoping we could try to get something out of it?”

What does he mean? If we didn’t want to go, what good would we be able to get out of it?

I tipped my head a bit to the side in curiosity and felt some of my blonde hair come loose from its bun.

“Let me escort you. To the party.”

Wait, was that an actual thing? An escort to a college party? No way. It sounded so childlike, almost like something an elementary kid would say.

“Hang on. Do you mean, like, as a date?” I asked, my tone packing more intensity than I had hoped. His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“No, no. I just want to get to know you better. I thought that this would be a better option than hunting you down in a huge mass of drunk people and ending up not being able to find you.” Ajay explained, a light smile tugging at his lips. “So...?”

Maybe spending the night with someone with the same ideals as me would make the night less dreadful, perhaps even fun. I barely gave the idea a thought before words left my mouth. 

“Sure, Ajay, I’ll be your escort.”

[lattaeyongs-main]

Always Running

Summary: You made him forget about the spider seal etched on his chest. In which he feels like he has normal friends, a normal family, and a normal life, but his spider mask starts to fall.

Pairing: Mark x reader

Genre: fluff+ angst, spiderman au, high school au

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, dangerous situations

a/n: inspired by the spiderman movies (obviously). requested a while ago, but I finally got to it! Let me know what you thought in the comments in the notes or in an ask!

-

Mark Lee liked a lot of things about you, he realized while he sat in your shared science class this morning. He liked the way your notes were clean and organized with different colors decorating the page compared to the monochromatic mess that were his own. He liked the way your voice that was clean and melodic at debate competitions before it would be his turn to argue. And he liked how you had a silent beauty to you that could make the heavens above jealous. Maybe it could be because of your window seat in the rising morning light that made you look ethereal.  

You and Mark attended a well off high school with the children of doctors and lawyers who expected only the best. That didn’t mean that these children didn’t live and experience like other high schoolers, often times amplifying it with their privilege. But everyone were still cookie-cutter students when they entered the school’s campus. The area seemed well off and average from the outside, but that didn’t mean that crime didn’t exist. Evil and bad were everywhere, Mark learned. And he had the chance to help people who needed it.

Today, it was one of those mornings where the teacher wasn’t in the room before the first bell rang. He noticed how everyone else in the class chattered with friends or quickly tried to complete last night’s assignment. You still weren’t in the room yet, and Mark could feel his eyes wandering to your spot near the window.

“Are you even listening to me?” Donghyuck exclaimed. He was seated in front of Mark, tapping on the desk expectantly.

“It’s the same stuff. Just break up with Sooyoung already.” Mark could feel his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“I’ll do that once you ask out Y/N. It’s starting to get creepy how much you stare at her. And even when I was in debate club-”

“Okay I get it. I’m just analyzing the situation before I do any of that.”

Donghyuck let out a faint “hmph” before saying, “Y/N, six’ clock,”

Mark moved his head ever so slightly when he saw you with your cup of coffee, your backpack strapped across your shoulder while you made your way to your desk. You took a quick sip before placing your backpack in the space next to you and collecting your books.

“Now’s your chance. Sooyoung told me that Yeri is sick, so she’s probably not going to talk to anyone this morning.”

Mark sighed. He was going to have to do it sometime to avoid Donghyuck and Renjun’s constant teasing. He finally took a deep breath and pushed back his chair.

“Remember, It can’t be that bad if Y/N is the way you describe.” Mark squinted at him disdainfully before Donghyuck said again, “You’ll thank me later.”

You were reviewing your notes while sipping on your coffee when Mark slid in the seat next to you. You looked up, noticing Mark’s nervousness.

“I just wanted to say,” Mark stopped mid-sentence and you nodded for him to continue.

“that I thought your notes were really nice and that you’re really pretty.” Mark took a deep breath.

“Aww, that’s really nice of you. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten complements like those-” You stopped when you heard you phone ring. Once you saw the caller ID, you said, “I really have to take this.” Your bag and books were still in your spot when you left the classroom, phone pressed against your ear.

Mark went back to his seat behind Donghyuck, and he said, “I’m guessing that it didn’t go that well.”

“It wasn’t a yes or a no. I didn’t have the chance to ask her before her phone rang.” Mark still felt his heart sink for some reason.

“That’s still better than being rejected.” Donghyuck shrugged his shoulders. It didn’t help.

A few days later while Mark was at his locker, you approached him on the other side of the hall, your coffee almost finished. He saw you in the corner of his eye but went back to packing his books in his bag in an attempt at nonchalance.

“I felt a little bad after I blew you off like that last week, and you're really nice in debate club. It was my boss by the way.” Mark nodded, feeling slight relief while his cheeks slightly reddened. “So I was wondering if you wanted to study together.” You were straight to the point.

Mark spluttered a little bit before saying, “Sure, of course. Where do you want to meet?”

“How about the library after school? Today’s Monday. We can start on Thursday.”

“Sounds good to me,” he responded quickly, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders.

“Good. You better not flake on me like you do with the debate team.” You say in joking humor Mark only nervously laughed. “I’ll see you around then.” Mark waved at you, a large grin forming on his face.

-

Mark could feel his arms and legs ache when he climbed into the window of his bedroom. His vision still felt spotty even after it had been twenty minutes since the robbers threw a homemade bomb at him. He luckily escaped, only leaving with a few scratches and bruises that he could hide easily. It was around ten at night while he waited for the police to come by and put them in jail, and now he jogged home, his spider suit packed tightly in his backpack. The jog wasn't long, so he didn't need to board a bus to get back home before his aunt got suspicious. The TV was silent, so that meant that his aunt was probably asleep. He tiptoed, remembering the creaky wood near the left corner of his bedroom. He took off his mask and took a deep breath- it could get stuffy in there at times. He jumped when he heard something fall, the creaky wooden floor amplifying his anxiety. From the shadows, Donghyuck picked it up and put it back on the nightstand,

“Donghyuck, what are you doing here?” Donghyuck’s mouth was wide open.

“You’re-you’re Spiderman?” Mark was silent while Donghyuck still pointed. It was a few minutes before anyone said anything. “Oh my God, that’s so cool! What does this do?” he moved to press a button on Mark’s wrist. Mark moved away, crossing his arms delicately.

“Don’t touch anything! But what are you doing here?” Mark felt himself whisper yell.

“We were supposed to hang out. Your aunt said that you were staying after school and were coming in a little bit.” Mark put a hand to his temple. He completely forgot.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I know. I’ve read enough comic books to know what happens.”

“This is serious. You can’t blab it out like you did-”

“That was seventh grade! We’re almost done with high school, and you’re still holding that over my head-”

“Alright, alright. Just please don’t tell anyone.” Mark’s eyes were pleading.

“Fine,” Donghyuck said while he took a deep breath. “But you have to show me your cool stuff later.”

-

"Okay, what do the buttons on your boots do? And how do you channel the shooting power of your suit? And-and-"

"Okay, Donghyuck, that's enough. It’s only been two days. We're in school. We can talk about this later."

"Come on! I’m just so excited, that’s all. You have to spill the beans!" Donghyuck whined. They were making their way to the lunch line, grabbing a tray while the lunch ladies handed them food.

When they finally left and moved to their spot, Mark reiterated, "I'll tell you later. We're in school. Someone could hear us."

"Whatever. You’re going to crack sometime," Donghyuck said, taking a large bite into his sandwich. Mark picked at his food. He sat with Renjun and Jeno, some of his other members of the debate club. After Donghyuck quit near the middle of sophomore year, he befriended them, Renjun being new and Jeno being as sociable as he was, now being very close friends with them. He almost felt a pang in his stomach because close friends were supposed to tell each other everything. That’s what Jeno told him one night at the end of sophomore year right after he built his suit.  

"Earth to Mark!" Donghyuck waved his hand in front of him, and he looked up. "Are you thinking about Y/N again?"

"No." His voice was confident when he started the first syllable, but he later trailed off when all three boys gave him the same look.

"You have to stop being so obvious with her, it's getting kind of disgusting," Renjun said, scrunching his nose while shoving some food into his mouth.

"You're being overdramatic, Renjun," Jeno said. "I think it's kind of cute. Look, Y/N’s with her friends,” His gaze pointed to three tables away where you sat with Yeri, the president of the debate team. You conversed with her, and from the look of it, you were enjoying the conversation, your eyes turning into an adorable squint when another girl and boy joined you, their names having left Mark’s memory. 

Renjun munched on potato chips before wiping his hands on his pants. “By the way Mark, where were you yesterday? We practiced against the college team and Yukhei looked pretty upset that we were missing a person.”

"Speak of the devil,” Donghyuck muttered. Yukhei, eleven o'clock."

Before he could think of that dreaded name, he heard his voice first.

"Another family affair, right?" Wong Yukhei said. His backpack was slung across his shoulder while he sauntered towards Mark's table. He gulped. Yukhei had been tormenting him since the beginning of time- or just when he moved in with his aunt years past. He always found a way to torment him, and it didn't help that he was promoted to vice president last year. His shirt was crisp while his slacks were neatly pressed. As the vice president of the debate club, he always needed to look his best and keep everyone in line. Unfortunately, he did the second part too well.

"Sorry. I promise that I'll be there next Tuesday." This line was rehearsed, something that took him ages to say without cowering under Yukhei's tall frame.

"I would boot you out of the debate club if I could, but it seems like you're in cahoots with Yeri. And we had a competition-”

“Practice.” Renjun interrupted. He went back to eating food when Yukhei gave him a look.

“You weren't there. You have to remember that this is a commitment, right? Or are you too busy ogling Y/N?” Yukhei’s voice was menacing, and he gulped. Mark felt his cheeks flush.

“You never know what he could be doing,” Donghyuck butted. Mark shook his head. When Donghyuck intervened, things didn’t go well.

“Oh, really like what?” His shadow encompassed him. 

“You know, a lot of clubs have their meets on Tuesday like lacrosse or astronomy or swimming-”

“That would have been a good excuse if the swimming season didn’t end two months ago.” He scoffed. He came closer and closer until Donghyuck blurted.

"Mark knows spiderman!" Mark turned over and stepped on his toe. He let out a yelp before Yukhei smirked.

"Dude, what's the matter with you!" Again with the whisper yelling. Donghyuck raised his shoulders.

"Really, Mark knows spiderman?” His eyebrows were quirked, as if feeding off of the victory that he said it loud enough for you to hear. A few others tuned in, staring at Mark.

“Really Mark, you know spiderman?” Your voice was in awe while your friends whispered among each other.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Mark stumbled.

“If Mark knows spiderman, then why doesn't he come to my winter party." Yukhei's smirk could be the equivalent of the grinch.

“I mean, that party is a month from now-”

“Is that a problem, Mark?” Yukhei’s arms were crossed over his chest, his foot tapping impatiently.

“No, no, it isn’t.”

“Good. Cause I thought that spiderman would be a busy guy with a schedule, so I wanted to make sure that he could come.”

"Oh, he'll be there." Donghyuck said.

"I can’t believe I said that! I could kill you right now!" Mark said when he and Donghyuck were at his house after school.

"It just- it kind of slipped out, I’m so sorry Mark." Donghyuck’s head hung low.

"I can't follow through with this. I'll just not show up and deal with him when I have to go to school the following Monday."

“No, you can’t do that!  You’re going to forfeit your reputation!”

“I’m going to be found out-”

“Well, you’re going to have to change your mind.” 

-

Thursday came, and Mark practically counted the minutes until school let out before he rushed into the school library. He double and triple checked that he had everything he needed to study, zipping and unzipping his backpack in the quietness of the library, earning dirty looks from the librarians.

You came in five minutes later throwing an empty can of club soda before seating yourself at the same table as Mark. He sheepishly greeted you, and you smiled. He didn't remember if he ever told you that he liked your smile.

"Okay before we start studying, we should do some practice problems from the previous chapter," you say, opening the textbook. Mark did the same, and the room was coated in silence except for the rustle of notes and pages from other students sitting at tables and computers working on assignments.

In the background, Mark heard the small portable TV that the librarian had.

"Two nights ago, spiderman came in and saved the day once again! Today, we’re sharing the report again, showing never before seen footage of spiderman up close, caught by the Lemon Bakery in their security cameras at around nine. He caught the criminals in the middle of their act and miraculously survived a small bomb that they set out for him. Luckily, they are in prison awaiting their hearing and sentence. Here we show you the footage that was caught."

“I still can’t believe that you know spiderman. And he’s going to come right?” You set your pencil down, taking a sip from a water bottle while you looked at him curiously.

“I don’t know. I didn’t get to ask him yet since this is a month in advance.”

"I understand. He must be busy, fighting crime. You know,” you say, your eyes glowing. “Spiderman is really brave.”  

"He really is." Mark felt the butterflies in his stomach rise at the indirect comment.

"I kinda start to wonder what really keeps him going. This is dangerous business, and he’s always putting himself in danger for everyone else."

"It could be the people that surround him that he wants to protect." You looked at him, your eyebrows quirked. "I mean, that's probably just an assumption," Mark said quickly.

"If that's the reason, then it's noble one, and I can’t wait to see him. Unless my boss makes me work overtime." You slightly chuckled, flashing Mark a small smile that made the butterflies in his stomach rustle uncontrollably the same way you rustled through the pages in your textbook. "So do you want to go over those practice questions?"

"Sure." Mark looked down at his paper and opened to the same page as you, a small smile forming on his face. His mind was running in circles for a full minute before you continued studying.

“I knew you were going to change your mind,” Donghyuck says at the local burger place at the mall. It was near the clothing store where you worked, Mark learning that after he waited for your ride to show up when you finished studying together. You said that you liked his company and that you should do this more often, making Wednesday and Thursday after school at the library one of the most appealing time of the week. And he hated it when his watch beeped at the end of your second time studying together, and he had to run off, saying that he was going to the bathroom. The words were on his mouth “You know just some crime fighting”, but he never said it out loud. For once he felt normal- you made him feel normal, like a high school student with normal friends, normal family, and a normal life.

“Don’t swim in your victory too much.”

-

“I can’t believe that I’m actually doing this.” Mark said, moving his hand away from the wheel and to his temple. “It’s a bad idea. Do you really think that Yukhei is that dumb?”

“I mean-”

“Okay don’t answer that one. But do you think this plan is actually going to work?”

“It’s simple. Just show up, change into your spidersuit, say hi, Yukhei will be shocked and stop bugging you, and boom,” Donghuck said, “You got Yukhei off your back for the rest of high school. Not to mention Y/N-”

“Is she even going to believe that?”

“I had another plan-”

“Donghyuck, I already told you,” Mark said, exasperation in his voice. “You can’t dress up as me.”

“Why not?” He whined. “You promised to show me your cool stuff.” The car was silent until Mark made it to a red light.

“The suit rejects anyone that isn’t me. If you wore it, it would make an even bigger scene, and Yukhei will be on me for the rest of my life. Not that this alternative plan will get him off of me either.” Mark slowly turned his head to Donghyuck, his eyes angrily squinting. He heard his phone ding in the cup holder and reached out to grab it.  

“Hey!” Donghyuck snapped his fingers. “Eyes on the road. I don’t look like I want to die tonight.”

“At least read it out to me.”

“It’s from Y/N. When did you get her number-”

“Not important. Now what does it say?”

“On my way. On the elevator.”

“So she’s coming.” Mark felt a fresh pang on anxiety grip his stomach.

“It’s not like we can turn back. We’re already here.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Yukhei’s house was actually very nice with towering ceilings and a pool house in the back, closed off for the winter season. Yukhei was known to throw loud parties that seemed like they were asking for visits from the cops when his parents weren’t home, a contrast to his vice president image. Mark wished for a long time that he would get caught in his act for once, but never would he have thought that he would find himself in the line of cars that decorated his driveway.

Donghyuck hopped out of the car and said, “You have the suit, right?”

Mark opened the trunk to reveal his backpack. “But I didn’t bring my crime watch.”

“Relax, it’s one night, nothing is going to happen.” Donghyuck put his hand on Mark’s shoulder and shook him slightly. He strapped his bag on his back and took a deep breath while making his way to the front door. It slightly creaked when he pushed it open, and Mark found himself get hit by the bass the minute he stepped in. Mark was lead by Donghyuck to a table littered by red cups, his head scanning the room for you. It reeked strongly of alcohol, and Mark jumped when he felt his foot squelched against the soaked carpet.

“Donghyuck?” Mark felt Donghyuck brush against him.

“Jaemin! What are you doing here? I thought you were at a taekwondo competition or something? Jaemin was one of Donghyuck’s friends that he knew in passing, having quit debate team before Donghyuck really introduced them. 

“It got cancelled.” Mark could barely hear his voice over the throbbing noise. “I heard about the spiderman thing. Do you really know spiderman?” Jaemin asked, taking a gulp from his cup.

“How do you-” Mark didn’t finish his sentence. It wasn’t supposed to be this big.

“Yukhei posted it on his social media. But really, spiderman?” Jaemin’s eyes were round with awe.

“Yeah, I do.” The words felt odd on Mark’s tongue.

“My younger brother is a huge fan, so I would hate it if he was disappointed. Hey, Jisung!” Jaemin yelled through the music. A taller boy with chestnut hair and a childish face came through the crowd, leaving behind another boy he was talking to.

“You must be Mark. I wanted to say that I love spiderman and all the good he does for this city. So I just had to tell Chenle. You don’t think he would mind if we could get a picture with him, right?”

“No, no,” Mark said, his voice surprisingly high-pitched. “I don’t think that he would mind it at all.” Mark turned his head to Donghyuck, but he only held a thumbs up.

“Good, I brought my good camera with me. See you guys later!” Jaemin stayed, taking another sip from his cup before squeezing Jisung’s cheek affectionately. The younger boy groaned while Jaemin chuckled, waving him and his friend Chenle off. Jaemin chatted with them for a while, taking sips from his seemingly endless beer cup while he listened. It took only fifteen minutes for his words to mesh together incoherently. 

“I’m going to deal with him. I forgot that he drinks like a fish at these things.” Donghyuck put one of Jaemin’s arms around his shoulders and hoisted him to a standing height, earning a groan from him.

“So you’re really just going to leave me alone at this thing? I can’t do this by myself!”

“Well, I just thought that you would want to get changed or see if Y/N is here while I take care of him. I mean, Jaemin is a good friend, but once he has a couple of drinks in him, there’s really no going back.” Mark surveyed the room, looking for a path to a less busy area. “Well, I guess that it’s my time to go. Wish me luck,” Donghyuck took a large swig of some champagne in his red cup before making his way around the house- more specifically to a bathroom. Mark waved at him before making his way around people ambling in the house.

He felt an arm lean on his shoulder.

“So, where’s spiderman?” Yukhei’s breath reeked of alcohol. Mark tried his best for his voice to not sound shaky.

“Oh, he might be a little late. He might be here right now though. I’ll check.” Mark scurried away from Yukhei, finding doors and opening them one by one. Once he found an empty room, he locked the door and changed. Behind him, the TV lulled in the background, playing the news channel.

“Well, breaking news. It seems like the elevator on the ninth floor of the fifth avenue mall connecting Quick burgers and The Clothing Hut has been stuck for what has been thirty-five minutes according to the fifth avenue mall engineering team. According to bystanders there is a teenager working at The Clothing Hut that is in there and the state police have been working to get her out. Closer inspection found that the railings aren’t strong enough to support the elevator for much longer, and this mall will be closed for more inspection afterwards-”

His heart dropped. Not you, please not you, he begged. But it was the only thing that made sense.  

-

His car would take too long and so would a bus since they would go through regular traffic rules. But the only way he could get to the other side of the city to fifth avenue on time was to use his webs. He swung from house after house, building after building until he found himself in the inner city. He dashed through the sidewalks and roads, earning looks and pictures from the civilians walking at around ten thirty at night. It was like whenever he blinked, he could see you biting your nails- a nervous tick he noticed while you studied together-while waiting hopelessly in the elevator, and that alone was the thing that pushed Mark to run faster, swing higher, and jump longer.

The fifth avenue mall had many floors, and the parking lot was filled with firefighters and police officers trying to push away the crowd while others secured the perimeter with security tape. People were being led by other officials out of the building while others yelled “Quarantine!” He only managed to stare for a minute because of the newswoman’s words. Not much longer. He flung his arm to attach the web on the side of the building when he heard someone with a megaphone.

“Spiderman, we assure you that we have the situation under control. It is too dangerous for the inexperienced to work on the elevator, and we already have trained professionals working on getting the teenager-” Mark didn’t listen. Whatever words that he heard were tuned out of his brain. He felt his foot falter and gasped, only to make the mistake of looking down while putting his foot back into a brick crevice. He gulped.

“We need backup. Send the swat team after the teenager and get the rest of the civilians out of the second through eighth stories. Top to bottom.” Mark looked over his shoulder to see firefighters lead people from different stories through working elevators and to the front entrance. 

Mark saw the iconic sign of The Clothing Hut at the ninth floor. He pushed himself through a window to notice that the floor was empty. He ran towards the elevator doors and shoved his fingers into the gap between the doors. He didn’t realize he was bleeding until a few stray drops of blood fell on the floor, and he held his hand, pacing near the elevator. He heard a helicopter behind him, and in a dazed panic, ripped a tile off the floor. He pushed it between the doors and it opened, banging against the sides. Mark couldn’t help but feel his heart beat in his head when he looked at the black abyss below. His feet wanted him to turn back, but his mind still kept him on the edge. He was lost in his own thoughts until he heard metal groan against metal. Your scream only sent needles in his heart.

Mark looked below to see the ceiling of the elevator torn off to reveal your face, pale as a sheet while you tried to take deep breaths. Mark cleared his throat, deepening his voice.

“Hold still. Don’t make any big move-” The rails groaned again. Your muscles were tense. 

He moved downward, wrapping his spider webs around the elevator door while his other hand shot around the elevator box. He tightened the ends together and tried to move up. His squeezed his eyes shut while he moved upward, but another creak resulted. Mark was dragged down another five feet when you gasped. He felt his breath leave his throat. He tried again, but it was too heavy for him. He instead found his back skidding against the vertical hallway, foot by foot. His blood ran cold when he heard a snap.

“No!” He bellowed while you screamed. He shot his spiderwebs, and you caught it, the elevator making a loud bang when it hit the floor. Your mouth was agape. Mark descended once again each step making him more nervous while your body shook like a leaf. Mark took shallow breaths, each breath signalling him to extend his web and move another foot downward. Breathe, extend, move. A pattern. He was knocked out of his pattern when his web caught something. 

“Spiderman! Look out!” He heard a pop from his other hand, falling. Mark could feel his ears bleed at the way the elevator door rubbed against the door frame. Mark felt his arm thud on the floor, while your hands covered your face.

He was alive. You were alive.

“His spider webs broke the fall, and Spiderman was able to save the day once again!” A reporter said while other people were swarming him outside. He answered a few questions, and law enforcement eventually made people leave in order to quarantine the place.

You approached him from behind, your hand playing with the rings on your other fingers.

“I just wanted to say thank you for saving me. I remember this one thing my friend said that you do this for the people around you. That’s really noble.”

“Thank you,” Mark didn’t say anything else. He didn’t know what to say. So in any spiderman fashion, he did what he always did after a job was done. 

He ran.

But he didn’t notice you follow him.

[manikas-whims]

Messing with Her

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki X Momo Yaoyorozu

Words: 1711

Rating: T

Read on: AO3 | FFnet

One. They are supposed to share just one lesson with the students of class B every week and yet somehow it has become the least bearable thing for Shouto. Although he isn’t much of an extrovert, he can bear with a few new faces but this doesn’t mean he’s ready to share seats with said new faces. And as if this isn’t enough, fate decides to play a dirty trick on him by giving him the worst possible seatmate for this particular class— Neito Monoma.

Not only does the blond hold some kind of personal grudge against class A but he is also nearly deranged. His obsession with annoying people is seriously worrisome. Negativity is known to eat away one’s inner conscience, deprive the person of liveliness and joy yet this boy thrives in chaos. Disaster fuels him like no drug can ever. And Shouto is extremely disgruntled to have to share a seat with him for a whole year.

He doesn’t pay heed to the crazy boy’s taunts and focuses on Sir Cementos, who is explaining something about strategizing which they’ll have to apply later on in test missions. His eyes glance ahead, stopping upon the back of a girl with silky, black locks next to an orange haired girl from class B. He sighs. It was his lovely, dark haired, seatmate herself who had suggested this new seat arrangement by drawing lots so as to help the two sections become more accustomed to one another and to make some new friends. Well he certainly does not need new friends. He is content with having her, Midoriya and Iida.

“Ohh so Mr. Cool Guy here is now ignoring me.” Monoma speaks, feigning a hurt expression.

Shouto finds the nickname funny, considering how hot-headed he gets when having to deal with idiots like these. But just like the rest of his classmates, he’s promised his class representatives that he’ll try to learn from this experience, not pick fights. And so, he tries to concentrate on what is being taught right in front of him.

“Is it your class rep, you’re thinking about?” Monoma says, his eyes now fixated on Yaoyorozu.

“Oh I know..” Monoma clicks his fingers, as if he’s discovered Shouto’s deepest, darkest secrets. “You’re thinking you’d rather sit with her than having to face a genius like me.”

Shouto huffs, cracking his neck to diffuse the annoyance building up within him. He has to! He promised Iida and Yaoyorozu.

“You think she’s better than me?” Monoma asks haughtily. This guy doesn’t know when to give up, does he?

Shouto ignores him.

“She is intelligent, I’ll give her that. But isn’t her kindness off-putting? I dunno, she almost seems too good to be true. Hey! Maybe she’s faking being nice to-”

“Fuck Off” The words escape Shouto’s lips before his rational mind can stop him.

It is only when the whole class turns towards him, some gasping in shock whilst several others hooting in approval of the possible incoming argument that he realizes he’s said the curse words loud enough for everyone to hear. He looks away, unfazed by everyone’s undivided attention on him. He only swears if it is to humiliate his bastard of a father. But people like Monoma press the right buttons, pushing him to lose his composure. It would’ve been fine if the arrogant boy had kept his snarky comments limited to him but he tried to insult Yaoyorozu, someone whom Shouto holds very important in his life, just like his other friends. He assures himself with that thought but wonders if he’d actually reacted the same way had it been Midoriya or Iida. Anyways, he couldn’t have just sat there and let the guy say whatever.

Sir Cementos puts down the chalk in his hand and opens his mouth to berate him for his language but Yaoyorozu beats their teacher to it.

“Todoroki-san! How could you?” she stands up, disappointment clear in her voice.

How could he? Normally, he would’ve simply told her that this stuck-up class B student just badmouthed her. But with an audience around, he can’t. He just knows that’ll hurt Yaoyorozu more than Monoma’s false remarks. So instead of stating the truth, he decides to lie. “Because he deserves.”

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Iida itching to chide him but is stopped by Midoriya.

“Swearing is wrong!” Yaoyorozu emphasizes, her hands resting on her hips. “Whether or not a person deserves it, is not as important as you spoiling your tongue by using such foul words.”

Here it is, her ‘good girl’ speech. Although she’s right, she can’t force everyone to stop swearing. And he’s already not the most ideal boy in his class. He is kind of a brooding, no-nonsense, cool sort of guy but that doesn’t mean he’s not bad. It may not be apparent but he’s just as handful as any other teenager. He doesn’t answer much to his sister and he treats his father like trash (which the man actually is). Oh! And not long ago, before the sports festival, he used to be pretty rude and uncaring about others. Its surprising that she and the rest of his classmates collectively decided to forget all of it as soon as he started opening up. So yeah, he doesn’t really care if swearing is wrong.

“It’s my tongue I’m spoiling, so you don’t need to worry.” He says with a shrug, earning some collective ‘oohs’ from the other students.

Her expression darkens at the nonchalance in his words. “I’m not worried. I just want you to apologize.”

Shouto’s eyes widen for the fraction of a second before returning to his stoic demeanor. Apologize? Him? To this jerk? And that too for cursing at Monoma because the blond was mocking her kind character? Not in a million years. If asked, he can share his soba with her but he will definitely not ask for this obnoxious boy’s forgiveness. He cocks his head to the side as he responds, “Or what?”

His words ensue a set of gasps, hoots and snickers. Even Bakugou quirks a brow in amusement. The sassy intonation in his words, makes Shouto question himself too. Crude words are one thing. But where is this coming from? He doesn’t remember ever speaking like this to anyone. Especially, since he had only meant to decline her request. Somehow he ended up saying these..challenging words!? He’s not in the position to challenge her for correcting him. So then, how did he let such words slip out of his mouth? Must be due to his time spent in the company of Bakugou and others at the provisional training.

Or is it because he enjoys messing with her? He knows she’s genuinely too sweet to scream at him for his words. Plus, he has noticed her always blushing cutely when he says something unpredictable. He isn’t sure why she reacts the way she does towards some of his actions but he likes it. He likes getting under her skin. He wants to witness how much she can take until she finally snaps back at him and takes action.

“Or..” she begins through gritted teeth, “I’ll never talk to you.”

His brows furrow immediately. The last time she stopped speaking to him was a disaster. Yes, he had talked it out with her. But he doesn’t have the energy to repeat that because he knows most of class A will be eavesdropping on them like the other time. He balls his palms into fists, the temperature rising on his left side whilst decreasing equally at his right. This isn’t fair. He didn’t expect her to be this strict on him. He isn’t saying that he’s special but she always does make him feel so. Wishing him good luck during tests, lending him spare stationary material by actually using her quirk to create it for him, offering him her expensive variety of tea and so much more. It’s just that her little gestures make him feel warm and happy..make him feel special and loved.. So now that she’s the one reprimanding him, it’s disheartening. Still, he cannot apologize to Monoma. He just can’t.

“It’s okay, Yaoyorozu-san.” Fortunately, the orange haired girl from class B intervenes. Kendo right? She’s the one who keeps her classmates in line. “I know Monoma is a bit provoking in nature.” She says sheepishly. “So there’s no need to say sorry to him. I think a written apology to your homeroom teacher will be better.” She suggests, looking awkwardly between Todoroki and Yaoyorozu.

Yaoyorozu bites her lip as if contemplating if she should agree or not but then relaxes visibly. “Fine then. Todoroki-san, please write an apology to Aizawa sensei.” With that said, she turns around, a frown still etched on her face to express her disappointment in him.

He watches the others turn back to Cementos, assuming the matter is over. But not for him. For some inexplicable reason, Shouto can’t get enough of this. He knows this isn’t a competition and that she wasn’t serious when she said what she did. He knows. Yet..

“Or what?”

“Or..I’ll never talk to you.”

The statement echoes in his head. He can’t believe that she shot back to his pugnacious words.

Shouto knows that it’s unnecessary and he’s being childish. But he can’t help himself from wanting to have the last word in this silly, one-sided argument with her. Maybe it’s his adolescent hormones kicking in but he wants to spite her, test her some more..

“Well then you better keep an eye on me or I won’t be writing that apology letter.” He drawls out but he doesn’t get to wait long. He sees Yaoyorozu instantly push her chair back with a noisy screech. In a few quick steps, she stomps towards him, glaring Monoma to get her message across. The blond boy immediately vacates the chair for her and she sits down next to Shouto, passing him a fiercer glare. He smirks, relishing in the hooting that follows anew as a result of his playful words.

Seriously, if all it takes is a few swear words and silly comebacks to make her sit by his side, then he’ll gladly do it all over again.

A/N: Amongst class A students, i think Shouto is the most badly behaved one. He's rude to people he doesn't like or doesn't respect, regardless of their age. There's so much I've noticed about him that I feel like he is the Bad Boy type right next to Bakugou 🤭

Well, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing..

OH, I'M OPEN FOR REQUESTS NOW

If you have a scenario, AU or just sn idea about todomomo and you want me to write it, please comment about it here ☺

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Baby You Were My Picket Fence [Chapter 3: Light My Fire]

You are a first grade teacher in sunny Los Angeles, California. Ben Hardy is the father of your most challenging student. Things quickly get complicated in this unconventional love story.  

Song inspiration: Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @blushingwueen @queen-turtle-boiii @everybodyplaythegame @onceuponadetectivedemigod @luvborhap @sincereleygmg @stormtrprinstilettos @loveandbeloved29 @ohtheseboysilove @jennyggggrrr @vanitysfairr @bramblesforbreakfast @radiob-l-a-hblah @xox-talia-xox @killer-queen-xo 

You open the front door and there he is: black button-up shirt, navy jeans, chic but not overdressed. His hair is neatly gelled back from his forehead. In his arms are a lug wrench, a car jack, and a brand new tire wrapped in an oversized, floppy red bow like a Christmas present.

“I think normal guys bring flowers,” you comment.

“I figured...since you’re automotively illiterate and all...you probably hadn’t gotten around to replacing the spare yet.” He shoots a glance at your Elantra, then announces victoriously: “I was right!”

“Mr. Hardy...Ben...I really can’t allow you to perform any more free labor.”

“Five minutes,” he calls over his shoulder as he trots to your car. He has trouble with one of the lug nuts, so it takes him six and a half.

“You can come inside,” you tell him once he’s finished. “I won’t be long, I just have to water my plants.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. It’s dark and rather undomesticated, yet endearing. “I feel like there must be better stalling tactics than that. If you’ve got cold feet, I can handle rejection.” But what he can’t do is disguise the way his shoulders slump, the way he bites the corner of his lower lip apprehensively.

“No, really, it’s totally stupid, but I’m really trying not to kill this batch and if I don’t water them now I’m going to be stressing about it until I get home, and I don’t want to be thinking about houseplants all night, I want to be thinking about...” You wave your hand towards Ben inarticulately. “You know. You.”

He smiles, showing his teeth, his eyes lit up like embers, flickering and radiant and warm. “Take your time, Martha Stewart.” 

“My parents give me so much hell for this,” you call back to him as you flutter around the living room, standing on your tiptoes and reaching around furniture to water your peace lilies and spider plants and devil’s ivy and one wilting ponytail palm. “They’re farmers. They’re professional life-givers. I’m lucky if I can keep the cactuses alive.”

You hear Ben rambling around the kitchen. “I hope your nurturing skills are at least marginally better with first graders.”

You laugh, nodding even though he can’t see you. “I’m alright with those. I’m just more of a rock person than a plant person. Gems and minerals and volcanic glass...fossils and bones and teeth...that’s where the magic is for me.”

“I can see that. Dinosaurs are well-represented in your extensive fridge magnet collection.” There are clicks and scrapes as he rearranges them: prehistoric animals and tiny planets, peace signs and alphabet letters and cross-sections of agate. “These are so cool!” he exclaims.  

You bustle back into the kitchen, place your watering can in the sink, and wipe your hands with a dishtowel patterned with cartoon brontosauruses. “Ready?” Your eyes flick to the refrigerator. He’s organized your magnets into a giant smiley face. It’s ridiculous, it’s juvenile; but you feel this liberatingly simple joy flooding through you like early autumn air. And the way Ben’s grinning at you—a little mischievous, a little proud—reminds you so much of Eli that your breath catches in your throat. You have no idea who Eli’s mother was, but her genetics were omnipotent; it’s almost impossible to find any of Ben in him at all. But every once in a while there’s an unconscious gesture, an off-kilter smile, and suddenly you can see the common threads that wove them into being like spiders’ webs.

“Ready,” Ben agrees.

You smooth your dress as you slip into the passenger’s seat of his Lexus, placing your purse between your feet, checking your hair and makeup in the sun visor mirror. Ben glances over at you as he shifts the car into reverse and roars out of your driveway. Your hands aren’t shaking, your heartbeat is hushed, there’s no hot rushing blood in your cheeks or ears; this shocks you. It’s eerie how inexplicably at ease you are.

“Find something good,” he says, pointing to the radio.

You seize the dial. “Uh oh. My first test?”

He smiles, his eyes on the road now. “Choose something lame and I abandon you at the nearest sketchy-looking gas station.”

You flip through stations until you find Somebody To Love. “I work hard, every day of my life, I work ‘til I ache in my bones...” “Okay, how I’d do?”

Ben steals a suspicious peek over at you. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What?” you ask, bewildered. “No, why?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind. You definitely pass. You’re a Queen person?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely, I adore Queen. Most classic rock, actually.”

“So have you, uh...” He touches his chin thoughtfully, what you’re quickly realizing is a little nervous tic. It’s cute as hell. Goddammit, daddy demon, stop being so fucking perfect. “Did you ever see Bohemian Rhapsody?” But something gives you the impression he already knows you haven’t.

“Not yet,” you confess.

“Not interested?”

“It’s not that, I just...” You hesitate, trying to put it into words. “I know it did well and all. But I guess I’m skeptical of anyone trying to play Freddie Mercury. He was a legend, he was one of a kind. So are the rest of them. Those are massive shoes to fill. It seems like setting the actors up to pale in comparison.”

“I’ve heard it was pretty good,” Ben presses, almost teases.

“Yeah, maybe...”

“And Rami won the Oscar. So his portrayal must have been satisfactory.”

“Okay, oh my god, I’ll see it, are you happy now? Were you on the marketing team or what?”

You’re only half-serious, but Ben chuckles evasively. “So you like old rocks and old music,” he pivots. “But not old not-boyfriends. Except Jeff Goldblum.”

“This is news to me. I sincerely thought you were sixty.”

He laughs, a full gutsy laugh this time, a laugh that says he’s caught-off guard and thrilled about it. “That’s okay. I’m into old stuff too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Old music, classic rock, just like you. But old books too.”

“Gatsby?”

His eyebrows leap up; you’re watching his face as streetlamps illuminate the car in reiterating flashes like a spinning pulsar. God, he’s beautiful. “How’d you guess that?”

“Eli’s middle name is Fitzgerald. That’s not a common one.”

“Ah,” Ben says, and his full lips turn up at the edges into a smile, proudly, fondly.

“I really like it.” That’s the truth; Eli’s a handful and that’s a titanic understatement—though he has been better the last few days, the only blip on the upward trend being his attempt to convince Brayden to eat a live cricket by paying him in Oreos—but his name is classic and elegant and a few literary references here and there never hurt anyone.

“Yeah, that was me,” Ben reveals. “His mother insisted on choosing his first name, I think she heard Eli somewhere and just liked the sound of it. But she let me pick the middle name. And The Great Gatsby was always my favorite book...and The Beautiful and the Damned, and This Side of Paradise?! Freaking incredible. In my humble opinion F. Scott Fitzgerald is a certifiable genius. So...Eli Fitzgerald.” There’s a color in his voice you can’t quite read: the golden yellow of reminiscence, the murky blue of loss, the grey nothingness of depression, the bloody maroon of deep pain or resentment. Who was she, Ben? How did she hurt you? And could I ever fill those hollow places you’re carrying around like pocket change?

He asks how Eli is doing in class, and you tell him; you ask about his favorite classic rock bands, and he answers: Boston and AC/DC and The Stones and Queen. His Lexus cruises by your go-to dinner spots—the affordable chains like Noodles and Co. and Panera and Chipotle—then past the mid-level raw vegan and farm-to-table joints, and finally into the neighborhood reserved for fine dining establishments with three-figure price tags and reservations booked up months in advance.

“Uh...” you begin. “I don’t think we’re going to get a spot at a place down here.”

“Think again.” He parallel parks with absurd ease in front of an Italian-Japanese fusion restaurant called Nejire. There’s a line of people in suits and evening gowns waiting at the door. You feel like a minnow in a shark tank.

“Ben...”

He comes around to your side of the car, opens the door, and holds out his hand. “You trust me?”

Do I? You take his hand in yours like a life raft. “Don’t let me down, Mr. Hardy.”

Unpredictably, fantastically, he brings your knuckles to his lips. “You got it.”

He spirits you inside, past the line of waiting customers, past the hostess and waitresses; they glimpse up and nod at Ben as he draws you through the main dining room and back to a VIP table in a dimly-lit, quiet corner of the restaurant. Oh, you realize with awe and trepidation. He’s an important guy.

You take your seat and open a menu as waitresses array full glasses of water and wine across the table. There’s nothing under fifty dollars. You flip to the salad page, searching desperately.

“What are you doing?” Ben asks gently.

“Um, nothing, just browsing...”

“You’re not paying for any of this,” he says point-blankly.  

“That’s not very feminist of you,” you quip, but on the inside you’re sinking. This is too much, this is way too much. I can’t let him do this for me.

“I’ll explain later. Trust me, we’re good. Order something expensive or I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m a teacher, Ben. My idea of luxury is Olive Garden.”

He grins at you boldly, almost roguishly. “Oh we are going to have so much fun together, Miss Y/L/N.”

Orders are placed, wine is sipped, appetizers are ferried to the table. As you nibble on ahi tuna tartare and caprese sushi, you find yourself lost in how Ben motions wildly with his hands as he tells stories, how his large emerald-or-jade-or-malachite eyes gleam when he’s animated, how his voice is so rich and deep and yet mild, how it suddenly feels like you’ve known him your entire life. Oh no. Oh no, I like this guy a LOT.

Ben abruptly stops eating and cracks his knuckles. “So there’s something I need to tell you. Since we’re...” Air quotes. “Not dating.”

Oh fuck. He’s married or something. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“It’s about my job.”

Whew. “Ah yes, your elusive profession. You can tell me the truth if you’re a dogwalker or a circus clown or something. It’s always nice to out-earn someone. Actually, dogwalkers in L.A. probably make more than me...”

“I’m an actor.”

“Oh,” you reply cautiously. “Like, for tv shows or independent films?”

“No,” he says, amused. “For major films.”

I knew he was too fucking gorgeous to be a normal person. What am I doing here? “Like what?”

“Well, recently, Bohemian Rhapsody.”

You choke on the white wine you’re drinking and cough and gasp into your cloth napkin.

“You okay?” Ben asks. “Don’t die. You can’t die yet. You haven’t tried their tempura crème brûlée.”

“You...” You cough once more. “You were in the movie that made $900 million dollars...?”

He grins toothily. “So you were keeping up with it!”

“It was hard to miss that tidbit. It was all over the news. BoRhap won the Golden Globe.” Your head is spinning. “You’re an actor,” you repeat.

“I played Roger Taylor.” The brilliant, obscenely good-looking drummer, the man who wrote Radio Ga Ga and These Are The Days Of Our Lives and A Kind Of Magic.

“Oh my god, Ben!”

“I mean, I’ve been in other things too—”

“Ben!”

“Look, relax, we’re cool. I’m not telling you this to freak you out, I’m just explaining that you don’t have to worry about dropping a few hundred bucks at dinner. You have a right to know who I am if we’re going to be...involved. And there’s something else.” He wrings his hands. “I have to be...discrete about my personal life. Try to stay under the radar.” But now that effortless comfort is strained somehow, weighted, ominous; Ben averts his eyes. There’s a presence in the room like a storm cloud, trapped pulsing lightening igniting the opacity from within.

“Sure,” you say, thinking that a life in the spotlight can’t always be easy. “Lowkey. I got it.”

“Awesome.” He’s relieved.

“I have to keep it on the down-low too. I’m a pretty important person myself. A bunch of six-year-olds would lose their minds if they knew about my extracurricular activities. They would color such scandalous pictures in art class. Premarital dinner dates, maybe even handholding. Yikes.”

That makes Ben chuckle; the shadow is nearly lifted. “Keep drinking, Miss Y/L/N. I’m loving this.”

And it should feel weird or frightening or wrong that he’s using the word love this soon, this casually; but it doesn’t at all. It feels anything but wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet are on your kitchen floor, your palms empty. Ben’s fidgeting around, his hands in and out of his jean pockets; it seems like he’s trying to say goodbye, but maybe he’s not.

“So...” he ventures.

You wonder if he’ll touch you, if he’ll kiss you. You try to catch his eyes, but they’re everywhere except meeting yours. “Hold that thought.”

You dash down the hall to your bathroom to smooth your hair, touch up your makeup, swish some Listerine. On the way back to the kitchen, you stop in the living room to check on your plants. If it’s possible, they look a little perkier than they did when you left a few hours ago. You run your fingertips over the broad leaves of your peace lilies, smiling faintly to yourself. “Maybe we’re going to make it after all,” you whisper.

You hear the distinct clicking sound of iPhone texting. “Oh shit,” Ben mutters from the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I gotta go, Y/N, okay? I gotta run. But I’ll call you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, just a sec...” But by the time you rush into the kitchen to say goodbye, Ben is gone, the screen door swinging forlornly. Puzzled, you lock the door behind him as headlights flare to life in the driveway and swiftly retreat into the night. Then you turn around.

Your fridge magnets are rearranged again, this time in the shape of a heart.