#seriously this whole series became a cliche

[myshadesofwrong]

As a historian, who has a literal degree in this (primarily British monarchy with some French so a lot of my examples will come from them), I am begging you if you’re going to be anti-monarchy, at least know the facts so you’re no sprouting the same tired rhetoric over and over.

Or in other words, OP is right (about the fandom and the monarchy)

Rants like the reblog from hotaurea make me so mad because the world and institutions are not black and white. The world, people, and the things we create like institutions have both good and bad and most everybody exists in gray. That’s just a fact.

I agree with the OP. No institution is perfect and evolve. Wilhelm could have been the lynchpin to help his institution evolve. Because, believe it or not, the monarchy does do some good. First, hotaurea is right in a way., Anybody can advocate for issues and charities but the monarchy has something you and I don’t. A platform. Their tags about correctly exposing that particular part as ‘bullshit’ is quite literally wrong. Every royal has a cause. Whatever you think of King Charles of England, he has for years been a champion of the environment, highlighting farmers and natural causes. Do you honestly think that the reporters and press would give a shit if he didn’t show up. Same with Queen Camilla of England. She champions and works quite a lot with domestic abuse charities. Prince William, Princess Catherine, and Prince Harry all constantly give attention to mental health issues. And Prince Harry has his veterans work. Now, we all can go and help each of these very important issues but our impact is going to be nil to theirs. Why? The same reason everyone demands celebrities speak up about issues. Platform. People listen. Now we can have a debate on ‘worthiness’ certainly. That’s a fair debate. But the truth of the matter is as the royal family, they have the reach and the interest from the press to bring more attention to the issue. Please no not negate that impact.

As for the ‘homophobic’ accusation, tell me you’ve never done actual research on the monarchy, any monarchy. I can name FIVE LGBTQIA+ monarchs or members of their family right off the top of my head:

Queen Anne of Great Britain (1700s)

Philippe I, Duke of Orleans, brother of King Louis XIV (a known cross dresser as well, actually openly wore women’s clothing at Versailles)

Edward II of England

Ludwig II of Bavaria

And my personal fav:

James VI of Scotland and I of England.

James is a particular favorite because the man was at least bi-sexual and literally commissioned the fucking King James Bible. You know, the one that all the homophobes use as “proof” of homosexuality being a sin. Pull that out at your next party/family gathering. I love seeing people’s expressions when they learn that.

Anyway, if you think monarchies are homophobic, you have no idea of the history. Y’all, historically, royals are fucking wild. Many straight monarchs actually had lovers both male and female. Some did marry and have children while others never did. But here’s my point, they NEVER hid them. These affairs or favorites were paraded with pride throughout courts. Lovers were given prominent roles in households, on councils, were advisors. It is a very modern assumption or concept really that monarchies must be straight and private. Did some hide them, yes. But go back through history and you’ll find countless stories of favorites being paraded around in from of wives, husbands, and courts. And by repeating that concept, you’re propogating conservative rhetoric is trying to hide LGBTQIA+ history. It’s that simple. And let’s not even talk about sex parties and the actual proclavities of some of these royals. Seriously, look them up. You’ll find out the true meaning of truth is stranger than fiction.

Now we can have debates over finances (reminder royals are not actual leeching off of citizens. They do have their own inheritance wealth, as well as I believe real estate is a big one. Again, the origin of the that is certainly cause for criticism but they’re not getting paid by your taxes) and actual worthiness as hotaurea put it but can we please have a non-extremist discussion on monarchy. It’s not either/or. There are good sides and bad sides to it, even in modern times. Actually, I would say modern monarchies are actually more relevant than their colonizer and blood thirsty ancestors. Modern monarch/royals devote their lives to charities and causes. They have no say in most governments and are definitely not sending troops out to war. But I digress.

Anyway, this is getting too long. I just wanted to point out the flaws in hotaurea’s little rant and add that OP was right. Wille could have been the son of a CEO of a big corporation and the story wouldn’t have changed one bit. It made his decision less impactful because we are never shown the actual struggle Wille could have had. Because you will never convince me, a good PR person would not have seen the potential in Wille after his speech and would not have let him champion a LGBTQIA+ cause. Imagine if Fatima would have been like okay, but Wille chose to go the safe route? That makes Simon’s reaction and his own work more impactful in the series. He even tried to tell Wille but it was WILLE who did not want to listen. In the end, maybe if they had shown the good side of the monarchy, it would have made Wille’s decision even more impactful instead of it looking selfish and impulsive. Or he could have stayed and shown what having a platform for good actually is but OP is right. And believe it or not, there is such a thing as IVF where Wille could have had a biological child. Shocking I know. Or a surrogate. Stop ignoring these possibilities.

Lisa was too stuck on the same rhetoric above instead of creating an institution that would have been nuanced and more realistic instead of a one-dimensional villain twirling their mustache.

Too busy to write a 5k essay it deserves but neither the audience nor Wilhelm saw the actual monarchy as an institution worth fighting for or at least worth considering it.

The monarchy was completely absent from the show. You could replace it with a billion-dollar publicly traded company and it wouldn't change the plot. Concerns about public image? Check. Out of control sense of privilege? Check. Spoiled children of rich parents? Check.

No one from the unrealistically small royal family was given a chance to demonstrate or explore the gravity and the positive influence a thousand-year-old institution can have. Does the queen have causes she particularly cares about? Does she invest her time into fundraising for them? Does she think certain problems are overlooked by the society and does she use her celebrity status to draw attention to them? We have no idea, we only have been shown her caring about the public image of the institution she represents.

Same with Wille: in the show he was never given a chance to explore how his status could be used for good. Were there young people for whom his coming out meant a lot? Definitely, but we never heard about them. Would it be equally important for others if the crown prince started openly talking about his struggles with anxiety? For sure. This list is potentially endless but the creators were never interested in showing anything positive about the monarchy.

[taddymason]

What are your thoughts on each of the Ninja? I'm just curious

Ooooo okokok this is going to be so long, I'm going to explain my first impression of them when I was a child and how it has changed over time.

Cole: I really didn't care much about Cole when I saw the series for the first time, like, as I remember he was my least favorite character on the team and he seemed boring to me. Now? Easily my favorite ninja. It's funny because of the team it's easily the one I identify with the most in terms of personality. I LOVE how most of his arcs have to do with the potential of his elemental powers, probably one of the ninjas who has grown the most in terms of skills over the course of the series. I know I don't talk much about the way they develop him and how much he matures throughout the series, especially how he becomes more and more open with the team, but he is one of my favorite characters.

Zane: I always liked Zane and he always remained my second favorite ninja. One of the parts I like most about his development is how he becomes more confident and sassy, especially in the new seasons. What I do not like is how many other ninjas's jokes about him are limited to "Zane, we need to adjust your honest/sarcasm ciurcuits", etc. It gets pretty tiring and somewhat contradicts the whole point of his character to be reminded that he's a nindroid when the whole point is that he actually sometimes ends up being a lot more human than everyone else but that's it. (ALSO Why did the writers forget that he had a falcon?)

Lloyd: sooo Lloyd is a complicated one because I don't really have strong feelings about his character. I guess one thing that kept me away every time I rewatched the show was thinking that he's like they put every cliche of a protagonist in a blender and most of his arcs feel that "predictable" when you compare him to the others. BUT I like what they are doing with his character on DR and I think it is his best season so far, SO definitely in DR it is more entertaining to see his development and his relationship with the kids.

Kai: Kai is a character that for me... is fine, I don't love him too much like most of the fandom. Again I think that in DR they are doing justice to his character since he feels that in Wildbrainera he was quite forgettable as if the creators didn't know what to do with him (like, I'm not a fan of his arc in S11 because we have definitely seen that lesson a Lot of times). I really love the development of him anyway and his relationship with Nya & Lloyd is one of the best parts of the series.

Nya: I'm going to be honest, I only started to like Nya in S9, before that with the sexist way the writers wrote her in the first seasons when I first saw the series I found her annoying (and S3 and S6 didn't help) . I think her character definitely improved after the Oni trilogy onwards because the creators began to give her REAL CHARACTER FLAWS and take her more seriously because then I started to like her character more.

Jay: soo, when I saw the series for the first time Jay instantly became my favorite ninja. I liked that there was a balance between the sarcastic jokes and the fact that he would then do something surprising like being the first to do spinjitsu, being a genius on roller skates, him shooting in space, etc. It's those moments in which he proved to be the thinker outside the box of the team that were very entertaining along with his humor, his powers, the duality in which he could be a bastard, an idiot and a genius at the same time was what made him that was my favorite on the team

Now, I'm not a fan of Jay when it comes to the new seasons where they basically removed all the traits I'm listing and turned him into a man child who only makes pee jokes. They literally took away EVERYTHING that made him a useful member of the team, he is a completely different character that really the only thing he has is... he is just the "uwu guy on the team". Honestly, it could be a whole essay explaining how I hate Jay from S11 onwards but I'll just leave it at that I hope DR gives him real development (and for a change it doesn't have to do with Nya)

[notnctu]

switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series 

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠  fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au,  ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo​ ; @dearlyminhyung​

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :) 

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you. 

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you. 

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you. 

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together. 

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts. 

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you. 

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone. 

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut. 

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter. 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.” 

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more. 

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal. 

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone. 

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face. 

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car. 

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen. 

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body. 

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire. 

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?” 

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.” 

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.” 

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention. 

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno. 

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat. 

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things. 

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats. 

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink. 

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you. 

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs. 

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel. 

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips. 

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again. 

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship. 

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you. 

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice. 

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper. 

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate. 

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.” 

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle. 

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you. 

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s. 

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you. 

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him. 

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax. 

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.” 

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.” 

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.” 

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed. 

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.” 

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space. 

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid. 

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?” 

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?” 

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves, 

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again. 

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them. 

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.” 

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s. 

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.” 

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being. 

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.” 

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours. 

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his. 

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior. 

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek. 

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed. 

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle. 

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?” 

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.” 

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him. 

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much. 

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that. 

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious. 

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown. 

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response. 

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.” 

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.” 

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it. 

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.” 

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin. 

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.” 

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further. 

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.” 

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving. 

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him. 

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.” 

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. 

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile. 

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party. 

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand. 

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough. 

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.” 

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.” 

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard. 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode. 

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs. 

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect. 

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.” 

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own. 

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer. 

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.” 

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk. 

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car. 

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane. 

[qqueenofhades]

did you watch lucifer season six and what are your thoughts pls and ty

Ahaha. Yes. Yes I did watch it. Then I cried for a literal hour and attempted to compose myself, only to start crying again when I lay down and kept on thinking about it. Then I had more feelings. Then I slept like the dead due to emotional trauma. Then I reblogged gifsets and had More feelings. Then @buffaluff and @flynnanimal watched it and also required emotional support due to drowning in their own tears. So, uh... we're all fine here now. How are you?

My main takeaway from the final season was the sheer amount of love for the characters, story, and fans that you could feel shining through all the episodes, and which made SUCH a refreshing change. I had feelings in my tags the other day about how a show about the devil was constantly goofy, hopeful, loving, and uplifting, rather than all the grimdark nonsense they could have easily done with it. (As I said, just imagine it as written by the GOT idiots?? NO THANK YOU.) The writing really loved everyone and wanted to give them a proper ending and emotional journey, and it wanted to show the fans that they weren't stupid for having invested six seasons of effort and emotion into this, and just... that is so much rarer than it should be? Compare all the movies and TV shows that treat their fans like the enemy, that want to outsmart them at all costs even if it means changing major plot elements, that ferociously guard spoilers and think that "shock value" means good writing, by throwing hackneyed cliche upon cliche and making everything Depressing, and just... Lucifer had its hiccups and slow points and missteps, of course, but I am SO glad they didn't do that. The entire show consisted of Lucifer slowly but steadily progressing toward being a better man, despite mistakes and setbacks and sometimes a little too much will-they-won't-they. (Season 3 was the only one where I got bored and skipped over the filler episodes with Pierce/Lucifer/Chloe in order to get to the end).

That is an essentially simple premise, but they stuck to it, and they didn't try to create more drama by randomly wrecking what they had already established. I wrote a fic all the way back in mid-season 2 (In Nomine Patris) that ended up predicting quite a few of the future characters who had not yet appeared on the show at that time, including Eve, Michael, and Azrael, and several plot points, including the very major one of Lucifer returning to hell for the sake of his daughter with Chloe. And while this might mean that I am just that good at guessing TV shows (I would like to think this....) it also means that the writers set expectations, followed through on those expectations, and didn't suddenly derail everything or turn it totally on its head just for the sake of cheap shocks. As we can all attest, they certainly caused PLENTY of drama, anguish, pain, and suffering, but they did it in a way that remained faithful to the overall premises of the story and the characters, and wanted to see them become the best versions of themselves. I cried my eyes out at the end and then thought, "hey, I might want to watch the whole series again," which, if you ask me, is the mark of doing your job right. There have been so few TV endings recently where I didn't immediately swear off the whole thing or have to pretend that canon didn't exist, so yeah.

As I said, it was just refreshing to watch something that had that essential deep generosity at its core, where the message is that everyone is worthy of love if they make the hard and painful effort to change and become better, and that even if earthly things feel small next to all this messy celestial drama, they still matter, and that you are loved no matter what. I loved that Amenadiel became God and Lucifer returned to hell as a choice in order to help all the trapped souls be able to work through their guilt and go to heaven. There were obviously certain echoes of The Good Place in that ending; I don't know if it was something they had planned all along or if the success of TGP, another series asking deep questions about life, death, morality, and human nature within the framework of a goofy heaven-and-hell sitcom, influenced it, but either way, it worked so well. Even if it tore my heart out and stomped on it on the ground, it was fitting and oh so lovely to see Lucifer, once the most selfish being in the entire universe, following in Linda's footsteps and becoming selflessly dedicated to helping other people. Just. Chef's kiss.

And of course, Deckerstar. The Hades and Persephone vibes were IMMACULATE this season, and while it did take Lucifer and Chloe the best part of four seasons to get together, they never significantly backslid, never had third-party issues or cheap cheating storylines once they were officially a couple, and Tom Ellis and Lauren German REALLY killed it this season in particular. It was never easy for them and sometimes the drama went on a little too long over the course of said six seasons, but the love story was beautiful and incredibly meaningful and always true to the fact that the actors and characters and writers (not to mention the fans) all loved it so much. They were so much the emotional heart of this, and when they went to hell together in episode 6x03 (where they turned into cartoons because wHAT even IS this show), Joe Henderson said in an interview that this was to give the fans a view into Lucifer and Chloe's future (after) lives post-6x10, and to offer them a basis to write fanfiction. I mean... the showrunner saying to the fans "here, we love you, have something to write fic about!" is likewise pretty shockingly rare. It's again an example of how this show always audaciously poked fun at itself, never took itself TOO seriously, and was always welcoming its fans and the people who loved it to do so, rather than making them feel stupid or taking joy in wrecking beloved characters or plots.

Obviously, I loved Rory, the badass lesbian half-angel goth Deckerstar child straight out of My Immortal (seriously, she was SO edgy, it was amazing), because of the fact that Lucifer's entire arc was always about feeling abandoned by his father and that he was going to have to face it for himself. Dorky Devil Dad Lucifer trying his absolute HARDEST to bond with his daughter was simultaneously hilarious, adorable, and heart-wrenching, and yet again, the Growth. We all remember when he could barely tolerate Trixie touching him, and now we're here. Also, any variation whatsoever of "this is just a brief moment of time that we must be apart, love is eternal and stronger than death and we will never really leave each other" as a line is guaranteed to make me bawl my eyes out. So that was fun.

I got a big kick out of Ghost Dan running around and trying to get everyone to see him, and had feelings about seeing him in heaven with Charlotte and his beloved Pudding Pops at the end. I had feelings about how they handled Ella finding out the truth (or rather demanding to know why nobody had told her) and of course, I obviously loved Maze and Eve and their goth/femme wedding and the fact that they got a good three-season romantic arc (indeed, I wanted more of them). My god, Trixie is SO BIG, she used to be a tiny little nugget. I love that Linda was the moral and emotional rock all along, from the first episode to the very last, and that Amenadiel was Deeply Vindicated when Charlie's wings appeared at his first birthday party. I love how Lucifer in s6 is absolute thousands of light years from Lucifer in s1. And as ever, Chloe was Perfect. I am happy that I spent six seasons with these characters and saw them become better, and that I was never made to feel like an idiot for trusting the writers to end everything in a beautiful and emotional way. Because, well. They did. Sure, maybe I could go back and pick at a plotline here or a detail there, but I don't terribly feel the need to do so? It might not have been perfect, but it was perfect, and I am so grateful that it existed.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Six

chapter five - Chapter Six: Ten Minutes - chapter seven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam, Bucky and Zemo investigate around Riga for any sign of the Flag Smashers, Y/n and Bucky spend some unconventional time together.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: spoilers for episode. 4, a little language, flirty Bucky (which is a warning in and of itself, Walker’s an asshole, Y/n is still a badass, sloooow burn, lil’ bit of spice 🔥

A/N: First off, I just want to thank everybody for all the kind messages/asks/comments you've left on this series. I honestly didn’t expect this kind of response when I started writing this and have been blown away with each chapter. Seriously, it means a lot! 🥰 Okay so I’m not gonna lie, this chapter’s a little slower than usual whereas next chapter is going to be...well, if you’re reading this you’ve seen the episode so you obviously know lol. But this chapter sets up some pretty big shit so it’s not useless, enjoy!!

----

I felt like a bit of a romantic cliche as I threw myself facedown on Zemo’s living room couch, hot off the heels of my realization about Bucky. But seeing as we didn’t have any leads and the Super Soldier wasn’t back from his “walk,” I felt I had earned it. “Hey,” I felt the weight of a jacket land on my back, “Whatcha got going on in that head?” I chuckled into the pillow, if Sam could see the thoughts bouncing around my brain, he’d have his wings on in a flash and would be flying around the city hunting Bucky down. Luckily, Bucky wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about. I turned on my side to see him sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, “I don’t think I give you enough credit for what you do.” “What are you talking about?” 

“I knew that avenging wasn’t some cushy day job but,” I swung my legs over the couch and sat up, “I never realized how hard it actually was and this isn’t even one of the harder missions!” Sam smirked and raised his brows, “An army of Super Soldiers isn’t enough for you? You want more?”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m just saying, you’ve faced a whole lot worse. I tangle with a couple bounty hunters and I’m gonna be aching for weeks,” I rose with a groan, eliciting a chuckle out of Sam, “Don’t get me wrong, I like what we’re doing, but I definitely underestimated how challenging it was.” “You’re doing a better job than you think,” Sam said, “I know yesterday was hard on you, but you’re handling all of the really well. I’m proud of you.” I made my way over to him and put an arm around his shoulder, “Still regret bringing me?” “Nah,” he locked an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side, “It’s nice having you here, it’s like having a little piece of home with me.” Since we were in grade school, Sam had been one of the only constants in my life and sitting in the middle of Latvia chasing down Super Soldiers, I had never been more thankful for him. I knew that becoming Captain America was out of the question but if ever there were a Cap that I would follow, it would have been Sam.

The front door and the bathroom door opened at the same time, revealing Bucky back from his walk and Zemo from his shower.

“Well, the Wakandans are here,” Bucky announced as he came to the center of the room, “They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

“Were you followed?” Sam asked, both of us unwrapping our arms from around one another. “No.” “How can you be so sure?” Zemo asked, staring out the stained glass windows.

“Cause I know when I’m being followed,” Bucky replied, coming to stand across from me on the other side of the kitchen island.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo said. 

“Hey, you shut it,” Sam turned his attention to the Baron, “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagal.”

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo replied.

I leaned up against the island and squinted at the man, “There’s nothing to litigate, we all watched you shoot the guy.”

“Sam, Y/n…” We both turned to face Bucky, staring down at his phone intently. “Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”

“What?” I said breathlessly, “Were there any casualties?” 

“Eleven injured, three dead,” Bucky read the article, “They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.”

Zemo walked around the island to grab a pack of cookies, “She’s getting worse. I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?” “She’s just a kid,” Sam said calmly, defending the young girl so many saw as a villain.

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there,” Zemo waved him off, “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron…to the Avengers.” “Hey, those are our friends you’re talking about,” Sam stepped quickly.

“The Avengers, not the Nazis,” Bucky followed up with. 

Sam continued, “So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.”

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals,” Zemo said, “Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her,” the room’s silence became a whole lot heavier, “Or she kills you.” “Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo,” Bucky spoke up, “The serum never corrupted Steve.” “Yeah,” I agreed, peeking over my shoulder at Bucky, “But it didn’t corrupt you either.” Zemo picked up a ring shaped cookie on his finger and pointed to Bucky, “Touché, but there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?” He popped the cookie in his mouth and shrugged, turning away from us to make further use of the kitchen. 

“Well,” Bucky made his way to the living room, “Maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” “And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked, searching through cupboards. 

“Yes,” Bucky answered harshly before sitting himself on the couch, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes.

“From my understanding,” Sam said, “Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So when I was a kid, my TT passed away-“ “Your-“ Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward, “Your TT?” “Yeah, my TT, yeah,” Sam replied plainly. 

“Who is your TT?” Bucky annoyedly and confusedly asked. I chuckled at the exchange from beside Sam, “His aunt. The whole neighborhood had this big ceremony, it lasted like a week.” “Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya,” Sam finished.

“Worth a shot,” Bucky shrugged.

“Your TT would be proud of you,” Zemo said to Sam before tossing him a wrapped candy, “Turkish Delight, irresistible.” ——

We were out the door soon after and heading to Donya’s last known location, a refugee camp in the downtown area.

“Shame what’s become of this place,” Zemo commented when we arrived, “When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” It was hard to picture the beige building ever having been beautiful, the setting was so dismal and grey. It was filled with children and workers, refugees, who all collectively looked worn down. The GRC poster that hung on one of the walls that showed smiling families with their mission statement ‘Reset. Restore. Rebuild.’ was a stark contrast to what those words actually delivered.

“We’ll take a look around upstairs,” Sam said, gesturing to me before turning to Bucky, “See what you can find out and keep an eye on him.” 

I left with Sam, climbing the quiet building’s staircase and wandering down the hall. Sam headed through an open doorway that led to a sewing room. “Hey, kid,” he called to one of them, “Excuse me,” he approached one of the only ones who hadn’t run out of the room at our presence, “You heard of Donya Madani?”

“Um,” the girl said, rising from her seat and making for another room, “No. Sorry, no.”

We stood there dumbstruck in the suddenly empty room, it wasn’t until Sam caught the Flag Smasher’s handprint symbol on a sewing box and pointed it out to me that the locked lips made sense. I took the lead and navigated through the crowded rooms, spotting another young person leaving at the sight of us. “Excuse me, do you know the name Donya Ma-“ The boy shut the door on me before I could finish my sentence, I turned to Sam who was close behind me. “Something’s not right,” I mumbled, walking in step with him further down the hall. We finally stumbled upon what looked like a classroom, one man crouched was next to a desk helping a kid and a table with two others who didn’t bolt at the sight of us. 

“Excuse me,” Sam announced our presence, “Do you know a woman by the name of Donya Madani?”

The teacher stood to his full height, “We’re not refugees, for we have nothing to seek refuge from. We’re internationally- displaced persons, for what it’s worth, and we don’t trust outsiders.”

“No, I understand,” Sam stepped forward, “I’m not from here, but I have a pretty good track record of helping out.” “I know what happens when people say they’re going to help out,” the teacher tiredly stated, “Nothing. The Global Repatriation Council promised to send more teachers, supplies. That was six months ago.” “What’s your name? I can make a call,” Sam offered immediately, ever the helper.

“I know who you are, but I can’t trust you. I’m sorry,” the man dismissed him, grabbing his other two students and ushering them out of the room, “Let’s go.” The silence was sobering for us both, we may not have found anything about Donya but we’d certainly stumbled upon something of importance. And as we left the building with our heads metaphorically hung, I could feel that he was just as impacted as I was by it. “I didn’t realize it was so bleak,” I said as we went down the stairs, “The government’s done a great job of painting a different picture for people like us.” 

“That could be said for a lot of things,” he replied, “But no, I didn’t think it was this bad either.”

We rejoined Bucky who was watching Zemo intently as he sat in front of a grouping of kids, a pile of candy in between them. “This is starting to feel like a dead end,” Sam commented.

“The hell is he doing?” Bucky accompanied.

“And why in Latvia does nobody raise an eyebrow at a stranger offering kids candy?” I observed as Zemo stood, approached the kids once more and came back to us. “Cute kids,” he smiled, leaving the three of us to share an unconvinced look after.

——

We returned to our hideout shortly after, defeated and all too aware of how fast the clock was ticking. 

“Well, I got nothin’,” Bucky said as the three of us made our way to the couch, “No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” “Yeah, it’s because Karli is the one fighting for them,” Sam replied, “And she’s not wrong.” “What do you mean?” Bucky’s tone was low and exhausted, but I could have sworn that his eyes brightened for a millisecond when I plopped down next to him.

Sam sighed, “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom,” he snapped his fingers, “Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doin’ something.” “He’s right,” I chimed in, memories of how the world was for five years flooded my brain, “Things were messy but they were…one. Everybody came together because we needed to, there was less room for segregation or prejudice. When things went back, the government made some really bad decisions. And for those of us who weren’t blipped, it was difficult to watch. I’m not saying that I support the Flag Smashers but I do understand why Karli’s doing what she’s doing.” “You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky’s furrowed brows bounced between Sam and I, “Then she’s no different than him,” he gestured to Zemo who was making tea, “Or anybody else we’ve fought.” “I didn’t say that. She’s different,” I argued, tucking my legs under me and twisting to fully face him, “She's not fighting for word domination or something, she’s fighting for those who’ve lost everything. She’s just...misguided in her approach. ”

Zemo came and set the tray of cups and tea down on the table in front of us, a little too quiet. “That girl,” Bucky addressed him, “What’d she tell you?” The Baron kept up his silence as he thought to himself, eyes flicking between the three of us. “The funeral is this afternoon.” I blinked and awaited the rest of the answer, “That’s all you want to say?” “You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute,” Bucky stated, a bit of amusement in his eyes at the thought of the Wakandan warriors taking him away, “In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” “Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli,” Zemo hummed, “I prefer to keep my leverage.” Exasperatedly, I looked over to Sam who looked just as done with the Sokovian royal as I was. Bucky rose from beside me and circled around to face Zemo, ripping the glass heeled in his hands and launching it at the wall, it shattered upon impact. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, I had to ignore the pit in my stomach that developed anytime Bucky’s voice reached a low decibel.

Sam and I were up and ready to deescalate the situation, him stepping behind Zemo and me placing a hand around Bucky’s metal arm. “Take it easy,” Sam said cautiously, “Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” I turned in towards Bucky, the close proximity allowing me to talk softer. “He’s not worth it,” I muttered, his head moving slightly in my direction as I spoke. 

“Let me make a call,” Sam said, walking off and slapping Bucky on the shoulder as he left.

My loyalty to Bucky prevented me from leaving until I knew he was alright and wouldn’t pummel our only lead to a pulp. As his stare lessened in intensity, so did my grip till my fingers ghosted over his bicep. “You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo awkwardly asked. “No, you go ahead,” Bucky answered with contempt, walking away with me following close by. 

“So what are we supposed to do?” I asked as Bucky and I walked through the luxurious apartment, “Sit on our asses until he decides to give us breadcrumbs of information?”

“He’ll talk, eventually,” Bucky grumbled, “Even if I have to make him.” Why I was finding this side of him attractive, I couldn’t make sense of. Shoving that aside, I took the more practical approach. I gripped his arm to stop him from going further, “He wants to screw with your mind, don’t let him.”

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip and dropped his line of vision to the ground, silently admitting that I was right. There was something so strange about how easy him and I had become around one another so fast. I could level with him now like I’d known him for ages and he’d actually listen to me. The oddest part was that it felt so natural.

“Now,” I dropped my hand from his body and went to place it on my hip, “Sam’s on the- ow!” 

“What? What is it?” Bucky jumped to attention, his metal hand instinctively reaching for my arm.

The pain had stemmed from my abdomen, radiating down to my waist. I pulled up the hem of my shirt and looked down to see an ugly purple bruise on my side. “Shit,” Bucky mumbled, bending down but quickly popping back up with an innocent gaze, “Can I…?” “Yeah,” I quickly replied, watching him crouch down to get a look at the injury, one of his metal fingers running over the colored skin with a featherlight touch. I prayed that he didn’t take notice of how my breath hitched when the cool Vibranium made contact with my body.

“How did you get this?” he asked with a laser-like focus on my stomach. “Must’ve been from yesterday in the shipyard,” I eked out, we were in close enough proximity that he was starting to cloud my head, “One of the bounty hunters had me in a death grip at one point.” 

Bucky shook his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he rose back up. “I’ll be fine, it’s just a bruise,” I said, pulling my shirt back down when a lightbulb suddenly went off in my head, “Although…” “What?” “I think I’ve got an idea on how you can work out your aggression and this,” I pointed to my side, “Can happen less.” I made my way down the hall, trying to find the right door that would lead to the right room. Turning each knob, I finally found a set of french doors that led to a terrace with a view of the beautiful city. Expecting and correctly guessing that Bucky had followed me, I spun around to face him. “Teach me how to fight.” “Are you kidding?” Bucky’s scrunched in disbelief, “No.” “Come on,” I pleaded, “I think we can both agree that I’m lacking in combat skills and if we’re going to end up fighting more Super Soldiers, I need to be more prepared than last time. Plus,” I pointed a finger at him, “You’re pissed and you need to let it out.”

Bucky scoffed, “I’m not going to let it out on you.” Rolling my eyes thoroughly, I created a force field to separate the two of us, “I’m pretty sure I can handle myself. But if you want to let me get my ass kicked, that’s fine…”

I watched as he let out a single chuckle, “You’re really gonna be like that?” “Yes,” I replied, trying to contain my smile, “I’m really gonna be like that.

He took leisurely steps toward me and started to circle me. I turned with him to keep the force field between us, smirks spreading across both our faces. “Alright, fine. As long as you promise not to go full throttle on me,” he gestured to the hands that had blue energy flowing from them.

“Fine,” I thinned my eyes at him, absorbing the force field back into my body, “But you better keep that arm in check.”

We separated from each other and I walked to my corner of the terrace to remove my jacket. When I turned to see Bucky doing the same, my eyes fell to his fit torso that was threateningly to bust the seams of his tight black t-shirt. In the Latvian sun, you could see the outline of each muscle of his chest and each vein that bulged in his arms was highlighted. Since the first time I’d gotten close enough to admire him, I’d had no shame in admitting to myself that Bucky was attractive. Now that I was actually starting to fall for him, there was a nervousness that came with appreciating his roguish good looks. I shook my head and dragged my gaze away from his body, trying to focus on his eyes as we walked towards one another. Not that I was any better off, they were just as enticing as the rest of him was… “Do you know how to punch?” he asked, I held up a fist and he examined it, “Okay, so that’s a no.” He placed his hands on my hips gently as to not disturb my bruise and turned me around, “Bring one of your feet back and out a little,” he instructed, I listened and he took a step back to accommodate me. “Now,” his hands moved to lightly grasp my arms, “Tuck your elbows into your body.” I swallowed hard as I followed his directions, his chest was now almost flush against my back and it was more than distracting. The closer Bucky and I got, the more muddled my thoughts became until he became the only clear one. With him pressed against me, his hands gently holding my arms and his breath fanning my shoulder, it was a miracle I could remember my own name.

“Now squeeze your abs, as long as it doesn’t hurt too much,” he said softly, inching a little closer as if to make sure I could hear him properly. Goosebumps I hoped he didn’t see erupted across my skin, I did as he said and ignored the pain it caused me. Bucky could have given me any instruction and I’d have followed, I was completely under his spell. 

His hands left me and he came around to stand in front of me, “When you swing, you want to move with your whole body. You’re gonna push off with that foot,” he nudged my furthest ankle with his boot, “And turn your hips with it, but don’t over exaggerate or else you’ll lose your momentum. Your hand,” he took my improper fist into his palm and positioned my thumb below my fingers, holding onto it as he looked back up, “Should look like this.” My lips parted as I watched him mold my hand to his liking, my heart rate picking up as our eyes met. Bucky let go and held out his flesh arm to act as my target, smirking once again, “Alright, give it all you’ve got.”

I swung my fist forward and met his hand, only succeeding in making contact and nothing more. For a second I forgot that I was fighting a Super Soldier.

“Good,” he commended me nonetheless, “Again.”

I readjusted my stance and brought my fist forward again, I still couldn’t move him.

“Again.” Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Again.” Smack.

“Again.” With hardly a thought, I focused my energy out of my fist as it collided with Bucky’s palm and sent his arm back in a mist of blue. I pulled my elbows back into my torso, gasping at what I’d done but not entirely unhappy with the results. Bucky looked just as surprised, turning to me with widened eyes and his pouty lips shaped in an ‘o’.

“Did you know you could do that?” he asked.

“I don’t know, the idea just came to me,” I answered, “Can I try that again?” Bucky held out his palm again and I repeated my attack, his arm jolting back upon impact once again. “I think I may have just made this a fair fight,” I said slyly, challenging him with one raised brow.

“I think you’re exaggerating a little,” he shot back, I could see the mischievous gleam in his eye that accompanied his words.

I shrugged innocently, “Guess we won’t know until we test it.” 

Bucky’s wandering tongue darted out to the side of his mouth as he smiled, “I only taught you how to punch, but alright.”

He took a step closer to me, slowly and playfully putting out a hand towards me to act like he was going to attack me. I held my hand up and built a small force field to block him. Going a little faster, he raised his metal hand and I repeated the action of shielding myself. We kept going until him and I were moving across the terrace with me creating force field after force field to block Bucky’s attack. When my back hit the ledge, I shot up into the air and landed a few feet behind him.

“Is that a fair fight?” Bucky asked as he approached me.

“No, it’s not,” I sighed and lowered my head, looking back up with a smile, “It’s actually a little too easy.”

Bucky started throwing punches, me blocking each one with my palm radiating energy to lessen the impact of his hits. I was so focused that I didn’t see him lift his foot until I had landed on my back with a groan after he’d swept my leg. He pinned me, holding my arms above my head and gripping my wrists so I couldn’t attack. I squirmed a little, unable to move underneath his weight that simultaneously crushed me and sent a thrill through me.

“You were saying?” he smirked, our faces only inches apart and his lips just a little too alluring to continue ignoring. This was a different Bucky than I had become used to, he was playful and flirtatious. We were getting down to who he really was when we weren’t dealing with such serious circumstances.

Taking away the temptation to close the distance between our mouths, and eager to point out he’d made a mistake in pinning my wrists, I lifted and aimed my hands at him, firing two blasts at his shoulders. The grip he had on me was lost as his full weight landed on me, I quickly locked my legs around his and used my energy to flip us so Bucky landed on his back with me on top of him. I pinned his hands at his sides, two steady blue streams flowing from my fingers. Bucky tried to wrestle out of my hold to no avail, I took great joy in leaning over him and giving a shit-eating smile.

“You’re right,” I shook my head, “It’s not fair.”

Bucky breathily chuckled and stopped fighting, instead letting himself be defenseless underneath my body. At some point, the laughter and grins faded and the reality that I was straddling Bucky became very real. If I released my hold on his hands, I wondered what he would do. Would he scurry to lift me off of him and leave as quick as he could? Or would he dare to put his hands on my waist like he had in Madripoor, pulling me into him as close as he could? Nervously, I absorbed the energy back into my fingers and freed him, his hands laying limp where they were but his blue eyes held no intention of looking away. We rested there, trying to catch our breath and not daring to make a move that would shift either of our bodies or the moment. “Bucky, Y/n, where you at?” I heard Sam’s voice drift down the hall.

Stolen moments, that was all I could get with Bucky. I had only just discovered how I felt about him, I didn’t know how to handle it but I knew that when I did get time with him, it never lasted long enough. I unhappily levitated off of him and landed on my feet nearby, leaving him without a word to open the door and find Sam.

I looked down the hall and spotted my brother walking down the hall in search of us. “Hey,” I called, he turned around and changed his course, “Any leads?” “Sharon’s got access to a satellite, she’s gonna keep an eye on the camp,” he said, “And Zemo agreed to take us out to meet someone who’s got information on the funeral. Where’s Buc-“

Bucky appeared at that moment, his jacket back on and covering his build while carrying mine in his hand. He handed it to me, his eyes darting up to meet mine with some sort of meaning in them, “Did he say where he’s taking us?” “No,” Sam answered, “But at least he’s talking.” 

The three of us headed down the hall and out to the living room where Zemo was waiting on us like a parent waiting on their children to get ready to leave. We left and entered the city once again, me trying to keep a little distance between Bucky since my cheeks were still burning. The memory of how he’d felt under me was still all too real and I needed to have a clear head for what was about to go down.

We hadn’t been walking for more than ten minutes when an unfortunately familiar voice sounded off in our vicinity. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” “Ah, how’d you find us now?” Bucky called across the street, John Walker and Lemar Hoskins hurrying down a set of steps toward us. “Come on, you really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar replied.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” Walker seethed, “You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” I over animatedly shrugged my shoulders and looked between Sam and Bucky, “You told us to stay out of your way so that’s what we did. Can’t have it both ways, Walker.”

“And he broke himself out technically,” Bucky answered Walker’s original question.

“Oh,” Walker was practically spitting with rage, “This better be an unbelievable explana-“ 

“Hey,” Sam stepped in and placed a hand on his chest, “Take it easy before it gets weird.” Walker promptly stepped back and took a breath.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo offered, stepping to the side along with Bucky and ready to continue on our path, before being stopped by Walker.

“Well, where?” “All we know is, it’s a memorial,” Sam answered, “So we’re gonna intercept her there.”

Zemo gently moved Walker’s hand off of him, and led the way, Bucky, Lemar and I following. “That means civilians,” Lemar said, “High risk of casualties.” “We won’t let that happen,” I replied, “And if they’re fellow funeral goers, neither will Karli.” 

“All right,” Walker said, joining us along with Sam, “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.”

“No, I wanna talk to her alone,” Sam protested. As much as I wanted to stop my brother in the street and question the validity of his sanity, we were a united front against Walker and I couldn’t drop it. I’d wait for my turn to voice my concern.

“I’m not losing her again,” Walker pushed back. “Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable,” Sam argued, “If there was ever a time to reason with her, it’s now.” “What?” No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on,” Walker jogged to get ahead of us, his sidekick following suit, “Stop, okay? I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.” “Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you,” Lemar may have had a problem with the plan, just like Walker, but he came at it from a different angle. That I could give him credit for.

“And if I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die,” Sam countered confidently. “You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker addressed Bucky, “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse,” Bucky replied, “And he’s not my partner.”

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam stated, stepping around us to stand in front of Walker, “This is my wheelhouse.” “Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea,” Walker shot back. “Wait, John,” Lemar stopped him from going any further, “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.”

We stood, anticipating whether or not we’d have to fight harder or if Walker would agree to let Sam handle the situation his way. He scoffed and shifted his weight between feet before turning to Zemo, “We’ll deal with you later.” “I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion,” Zemo replied and gestured down the path, “My associate is just up ahead.”

We looked ahead to see the same little girl the Baron had been offering candy to earlier in the day. I fell in step alongside Sam and lowered my voice, “Are you sure about this?” 

“Did you act like you agreed with me just to piss of Walker?” he asked, equally quiet.

“…Maybe…” 

He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and we bumped fists, “Trust me, this is our best option.” 

The five of us watched Zemo approach the child, handing her something and guiding us to follow where she was leading. She took us to an older factory, bringing us in through the back door of the boiler room. “Karli’s in there,” Zemo said.

Sam broke from our group and headed for the doorway while Walker slammed Zemo up against a furnace. “Hey,” he called to Sam, “You got ten minutes,” he handcuffed Zemo, “Then we’re doing things my way.”

With Sam gone and me not there to protect him in case things took a turn, there wasn’t anything to do but wait. Walker paced, Lemar stood and Bucky stared. I was leaned up against the brick wall that held Zemo, trying not to think of all the ways the plan could go wrong. Karli was young, quick to help but also quick to fight and the sight of Sam may be enough to trigger her into attacking before listening. But Sam wasn’t usually someone to get cocky about something he knew he couldn’t handle and I trusted his judgement. I just wish that I was trusting it in a less dangerous situation. 

“Y/l/n.” I turned to Zemo, “Huh?” “In Madripoor, you said your last name was Y/n Y/l/n,” he continued in a hushed tone so nobody else would hear.

“So? What’s so interesting about my name?”

Zemo paused like he had just come to some conclusion I wasn’t going to be made privy to. “It simply sounds familiar.”

“What does that me-“ “Hey!” Walker exclaimed, staring me and the Baron down, “What’re you two talking about?” Zemo turned away from me like we’d never been speaking, the confusing conversation dissolving in the already tense air. “Nothing,” I lied, pushing off the brick wall and brushing past Walker, “That concerns you at least.”

I landed at Bucky’s side, he nodded his head towards Zemo and looked back to me. “What was that about?” “I’m not sure,” I answered, there was something unsettling about how Zemo’s gaze rested on me, “But I don’t think it was nothing.” We waited in another thirty seconds of silence before an antsy Walker spoke up again, “No, no, no, no, no, this is a bad idea.” “It hasn’t been ten minutes John,” Bucky said, “Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that,” Walker looked over his shoulder at us angrily, “Don’t patronize me.”

“Then don’t start whining because you’re getting fidgety,” I replied, annoyed with his lack of patience, “Sam knows what he’s doing and if you let him do it, this could all go a lot smoother than Munich.” 

He walked away, staring at the wall in deep thought before coming towards us. “I’m goin’ in,” he stated, punctuating his words with a punch to the shield. 

Bucky stepped forward to block his path, I quickly stuck a hand in between their two bodies and created a force field to further state our point. My apprehension about leaving Sam to handle himself had lessened when he’d assured me he had it under control but I wasn’t sure if there was anything that would get Walker to back off. 

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it?” Walker grumbled, staring Bucky down, “All that serum runnin’ through your veins. And you,” he skimmed his hand over the unpierceable shield I’d made, “With that X gene of yours. Your brother,” he pointed at Bucky, “And your partner need backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” The images that Sharon had planted in my head were filled in by Walker, it suddenly became all too easy to picture Sam’s lifeless body on the ground. Just like the one I’d left in the ship yard. No, Walker was not in my head, I wouldn’t allow it. The man who had threatened me with the accords, who waved the name of Captain America around like a free ticket to do whatever he wanted. He could manipulate whoever he wanted, except for me. “You’re not getting past us, Walker,” I firmly stated, bringing his widened eyes to me, “Sam’s got this.” There weren’t many people that stood up to Captain America without a second thought, and the irritated expression on his face reflected that. “So that’s how it’s going now? You’re giving the orders?” “If it means giving Sam a better chance of ending this, then yes,” I countered, digging my heels further into the ground.

He looked me over, debating his options, “Fine.” After observing him for a few cautious seconds, I dropped the force field and stepped to the side of Bucky. No sooner than when my hand fell to my side did Walker shove past Bucky and storm up the stairs, the two of us quickly rushing to draw him back. “Walker!” Bucky shouted.

I aimed my hands out to pull him back in, the blue energy barely leaving my fingertips when Lemar came up behind me and pulled my hands down to my sides. I tried to wrestle out of his grip but he didn’t let me go until Walker had safely gotten up the stairs to a point where I couldn’t see him. “Are you serious?!” I cried as Lemar shot ahead of me up the stairs leaving me to follow pathetically. “Captain’s orders,” he replied over his shoulder as we hurried to catch up to the heated, impatient joke of a Captain. 

“Karli Morganthau, you’re under arrest,” I heard Walker announce, spotting Bucky taking the stairs two at a time behind him.

As I entered the room, my hopeless eyes met Sam’s surprised set. Karli was just as shocked, the redhead asking Sam if it had been the plan all along to bring us in. Lemar pushed in front of me and Bucky, acting as a barrier to prevent us from interfering any more than we had. Bucky attempted to shove his arm away just as Karli landed a punch to the shield, sending Walker and Sam flying back into a table. I used my energy to shove Lemar back, freeing Bucky and I to jump into the fight. Bucky bolted after Karli who was making a run for it while I helped Sam to his feet. “We said ten minutes!” Sam exclaimed, glaring at Walker’s retreating form. 

“I tried,” I said as we made for another staircase to try and catch Karli on the other side of the building. We went through a series of various halls, there was no way to make heads or tails of which way was right. Sam tugged me and led me up another set of stairs with no luck in finding her. “Shit,” I mumbled. On the opposite side of the landing was Bucky, looking just as confused as us. “I lost her,” he said defeatedly. “This place is a maze,” Sam panted.

I took a look at our surroundings, spotting a window and quickly forming an idea. “She could be out of the building by now. Bucky,” I ran to the nearest window, “Help me out.”

Catching on quick, he raised his metal arm and landed a whopping punch, shattering the glass and leaving a gaping hole. I took a few steps back and took a running start, ignoring the sounds of Sam’s protests and diving out the window. I threw my hands out to my sides and expelled energy, ceasing my fall and allowing me to shoot up higher in the air. I landed on the building’s roof, taking a look at the city below me and trying to spot Karli’s mop of red hair. I stayed atop the ledge searching until I heard gunshots from inside the building, dropping and flying back in through the broken window immediately. My blood ran cold with fear, Sam and Bucky weren’t where I had left them. I rushed down the closest hall, hearing a commotion from a room somewhere in the building and praying desperately that they weren’t in the middle of it. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been so relieved to see the two of them as when I’d spotted them after turning a corner. Upon hearing my boots slapping against the ground, Bucky and Sam turned, both their faces showcasing the same relief. “Thank God,” Sam breathed, waiting for me to catch up with them before tearing off again.

We ran through the building until we found the one hall we hadn’t been down yet, we entered to find quite the scene. Walker was standing over an unconscious Zemo, vials of the super serum smashed on the floor and no sign of Karli.

“What did we miss?” Sam asked, still a little breathless from our chase.

I wasn’t a naturally angry person, but the irateness I felt with John Walker was enough to make my face warm with rage. He had proved that arrogance and impatience were his main modes of operation. He had no problem giving the orders but following someone else’s lead was nearly unbearable for him. His eagerness to jump headfirst into battle may have served him well in aspects of his career, but in this case it had ruined everything.

“You said ten minutes,” I gritted out, staring down Walker from our position on the stairs. His eyes didn’t carry an ounce of remorse for what he had done. Without another word, I turned on my heels and stormed out of the room without waiting for Sam and Bucky. We’d come so far only to lose to a completely preventable situation. I’d never worked with Steve professionally, but I knew that he would have never have sabotaged a mission because of his ego. Just one more reason why John Walker could never truly be Captain America.

----

A/N: I find myself having to reel myself in when writing Walker or else I’ll let my hatred of him show through a little too much lol. Let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged :)

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebo​ @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @i-know-i-can​ @x-judyjude-x​ @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla​ @buckverse​

[theduosetter]

── 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠 ──

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x f!reader

Summary: Two strangers laid their eyes upon one another and were captivated at first sight. All they were itching to know was their name yet who knew they were closer to each other than they realized.

Warning(s): cursing, fluff, adorable all around!!

A|N: I hope you enjoy this mini series! Any heart or reblog would be appreciated thank you! Feedback too :D

Links: m.list | writing commissions ✏️ || tip the writer ✍️ ||

Part: 3

"Hurry up, Y/n!" Hinata yelled as he grew impatient.

"I'm coming, Shoyo! You're literally outside of my door." you hung up and grabbed your bag along with your phone.

Opening your bedroom door you saw your best friend standing there tapping his foot. "Was it really necesarry for you to call me when you were already here?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed "I don't want you changing plans last minute."

"I'm not going to bail on you guys." you chuckled "Relax, we are going to hangout together today."

"Alright. Come on we still need to get to the gym to warm up." he grabbed your hand and ran downstairs.

"Shoyo!" you exclaimed "Where's Tobio anyway?"

When you got to the bottom of the stairs you saw the black haired friend sitting down at the kitchen table. A sigh escaped your lips knowing he wouldn't pass up the chance of some milk with your mom's pastries. "I can't quite say that I'm surprised."

"Do you wnt...s-sum?" he muffled as he chewed down on the bread making his cheeks chubbier.

"I'll be fine." you answered unlike the orange hair who stuffed a plastic bag filled with pastries while your mom laughed.

"Why don't I just give you guys some extra ones?" your mom said as she filled another bag with individual wrapped bakery goods.

"We'd appreciate it!" the duo spoke.

"We gotta go or else you'll be late for the game!" you exclaimed pulling each one away from the counter covered in sweets.

"Let me get one more!" Hinata whined, "One more-"

"You'll both end up getting stomach aches if you don't stop!" you retorted.

What seemed like eternity you managed to get them out the door despite the begs. "Please make sure to come back soon boys!" your mom said.

"We'll be back Mrs. (last name)! Thank you for the sweets!" they both yelled in unison.

"I will see you before closing, mom." you kissed her cheek and grabbed the four bentos. "Thank you for the food!"

"Be careful okay?" she waved goodbye at you then chuckled to herself, "I'm glad my baby has her friends."

"Seriously you guys barely have enough time to get to the gym!" you yelled out as you three ran towards the school's grounds. "I told you we had to go!"

"Yeah but your mom's bread was so good!" Hinata jumped "It tasted like a fluffy cloud Y/n!"

"She definitely needs to bring her food to the next school's festival." Kageyama added "Imagine how much attention your mom's bakery would get."

You bit your lip "You're not wrong about that..."

Hinata looked at his watch, his eyes widened. "We only have 15 minutes to practice before the other school get's here Kageyama!"

"You idiot! I told you we had to go!" he moved closer to kick his butt but Hinata managed to dodge his hit.

"Oh shut up! You were stuffying your face too!"

"Why am I friends with these two again?" you muttered.

"Come on pick up the pace y/n!" Hinata and Kageyama grabbed your hands and ran faster than your legs could move.

"G-guys!" you exclaimed "I-I'll end up falling─ slow down!" they were too focused on getting to practice than hear about your objections "If I break a bone I'm telling my mom to ban you from the shop!"

After a five minute run that was supposed to be ten, you finally arrived. Your legs felt like jelly and your sweater was long gone as your body was too sweaty. 'This was worse than a summer day...' you thought, 'I showered and got dressed so nicely only for it to be ruined by those two. Ugh they owe me big time.'

You slowly treaded towards the stairs of the gym, their teammates were too busy preparing to notice you. A sigh escaped your lips upon feeling the cool air coming from the a/c. "This... this is nice." you mumbled. "It feels like a cold freezer..."

"Um... hi." a voice spoke coming from behind you.

"You two are so banned..." you muttered under your breath. Slowly you turned around to come face with two guys. 'They must be their teammates.'

"Are you going to keep blocking the door or can we get through?" the tall guy with the glasses spoke.

"Tsuki." the shorter one mumbled.

"Well?" he stared you down, "We don't have all day."

'He must be the guy that Shoyo and Tobio went up against.' you thought.

"R-right... but you don't have to be so rude you know." you answered.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes walking passed you meanwhile his friend gave you an apologetic smile. "He's usually not mean." he chuckled slightly "Do you need help with something?"

"No... I came to see some friends. But they left me out on the front steps to get ready for your match today."

"Wait... are you really their friend?" he asked.

"If you're talking about the tall one and the ginger then yes." you chuckled, "They said it was fine for me to come today."

"Don't take this the wrong way but..." he scratched his cheek looking away from you, "I'm surprised they have a friend that's a girl, given the way that they are."

"No worries. I understand what you mean especially since we met in very different times." You two walked inside "I'm still surprised they are friends."

"Y/n!" looking to the left you saw Yachi jogging over to you. "Oh hey, Tadashi!"

"I should go warm up, it was nice meeting you!"

"You too Tadashi!"

She then spoke again, "What happened to you? Did you run all the way here?"

"Hinata and Kageyama were too busy stuffing their faces with my mom's pastries. By the time they actually listened to me it was too late and we had to run all the way here." you whined "Now I'm all covered in sweat and I feel disgusting."

"I told them not to get distracted." she sighed "Do you want to freshen up? I have an extra shirt in the club room."

"Really? Id really appreciate that."

"Come on we still have a few minutes before the whole team gets here."

Your feet were too tired to walk yet somehow you managed to go upstairs to the room. "I swear one day those two will be the death of me." you complained.

"Can you blame them? Your mom's sweets are too good." Yachi chuckled.

Shaking your head you went inside and washed your face along with your arms and back. "How are the two doing with their quick attack by the way?" you asked.

"They're getting there, although they still want to make sure it comes out perfect. Coach Ukai said they need to upgrade it or else it won't be enough to get past the blocker's hands."

You nodded, "There's no doubt in my mind they will make it work. From the videos you've sent me those two can work a miracle even if they end up fighting... their goals are the same."

"Oh right I was going to ask you..." Yachi continued "... how did it go with your guy by the way? Did he end up messaging you?"

Biting your lip, you put on the white clean shirt. "He did, he was so nervous and sweet. I apologized to him about what my mom did yet he said he didn't mind because he was nervous about talking to me." you giggled.

"Wait so your mom really did give him your phone number?!"

"She did! I wasn't expecting her to go that far." you answered "But it is kinda embarrasing how she had to do it for me though..."

"Nonesense!" she exclaimed "You just needed that little push well you both did. I'm sure he knows that especially since he took the time to message you."

It was difficult to hide the smile that kept creeping up on your face. "As cliche as it sounds... it really feels like a movie Yachi."

"You're barely at the talking stage but what if he asks you out on a date then to become something more. Are you ready to go that far?"

Closing the locker you turned to face her, "Not going to lie with everything that has happened... I feel scared to say yes. After what happened I never really thought someone would take an interest in me and that I'd feel the same way."

Yachi placed her hand on your shoulder, "It's been at least 4 four years I think it is time to enjoy a new adventure in your life. You may never know what might happen."

"Yeah, I know."

There was a knock on the door, "Hey! Yachi are you almost ready? Kiyoko said she needs your help setting up."

"Yeah! We'll be right there Sugawara!" she yelled back.

"Who's Sugawara?" you asked.

"Come on let's go meet the rest of the team that way it'll be easier." she chuckled taking your hand and walking back to the gym.

There were sudden butterflies in your stomach, although you knew your friends were part of the team, you couldn't but wonder if it was okay for you to come. All you wanted was to make a good impression for the team that gave your friends the opportunity to play.

As soon as she opened the door everyone turned their heads to look at you. Two memebers then ran over to you both making you jump back.

"A new girl!" they yelled in unison.

"She's so cute!" the shorter one exclaimed.

"You didn't tell us you had such a pretty friend Yachi!" the taller one added.

Yachi became flustered, "Ah! T-this is m-my friend! She came to w-watch the game today. Y/n this is Tanaka and Nishinoya."

Feeling embarrassed you gave them a nod, "It's nice to meet you guys."

"She's so adorable!" Tanaka exclaimed "I hope we get to see you around here more often."

"Oh... um sure, if you guys don't mind." you said.

"Where have you been all my life?!" Nishinoya's eyes widened not being able to handle how cute you looked.

"Oh Y/n!" Hinata then jogged over to you guys "Can you help us toss some balls?"

"Yeah let's go-" you went to follow Hinata only to be taken away in the opposite direction.

"You need to meet the whole team." Nishinoya held your hand dragging you over to what seemed to be the third years along with other members.

"Guys! This is Yachi's friend, Y/n! Y/n, this is Suga or Sugawara for short, Asahi, Tsukishima, Tadashi, and Ennoshita!"

You tried to hide your nervousness, "Hello! It's nice to meet you guys, thank you for letting my friends play."

Tsukishima stared at you with an uninterested look, while Tadashi smiled softly.

"How did you manage for Hinata and Kageyama to get along? They were at each other's throats." Sugawara chuckled.

"Well... let's just say it's still hasn't changed much." you rubbed the back of your head. "But we make it work."

"Are you also a first year?" Ennoshita asked.

"Mhm I had to change school's during the second semester." you answered. "Karasuno is my second school."

"Well welcome to the team, I apologize in advance if things get out of control." Sugawara said "They're usually..." he tried to put into words but you understood.

"No worries if I can handle those two I'm sure it won't bother me." you chuckled. "Is this the whole team?"

"We're only missing our captain." Asahi answered, "Where is he anyways?"

Tskushima shrugged "He said something about needing to find his knee pads."

"Anyway we should go get ready before the school shows up. Let's start to warm up." Sugawara said and everyone went off to do their own things. "If you want you can sit down besides Coach Ukai and Mr. Takeda."

"Oh okay." you then looked around "Do you need help with anything?"

"I think we should be good, can you help with picking up the volleyballs and putting them in that basket when the other team gets here?"

"Sure." you were about to grab the cart when you heard the door open again.

"Oh! Daichi come over here!" he yelled.

Your feet froze, the numbness you felt earlier in your legs returned. 'Please... don't be who I think it is...' you thought lowering your head, 'Oh my god what if he gets dissappointed?'

You tried to subtly fix your hair and tuck in the club room shirt. Sugawara noticed, "Are you okay─"

"What is it Suga?" Daichi asked as he walked over to where you both were.

"This is the friend that they were talking about, this is Y/n." he said smiling softly at you. "Daichi?"

You slowly lifted your head to come face to face with those loving brown eyes. Daichi was in the same state as you, shocked yet happy to finally see you.

"Are you alright?" Sugawara asked looking at him.

"Y-yeah..." he chuckled awkwardly "It should have been obvious right?"

Your face was hot, "Y-yeah, I shouldn't have been so dumb."

"You two know each other-"

"This is y/n... the one I've been telling you about." Daichi said.

"Oh...." Suga mumbled "So you're the one he can't stop rambling about." a smirked then formed on his lips.

You blushed, "W-what, really?"

"Suga!" Daichi exclaimed.

"I can't believe after all this time you two would end up meeting each other at school." he said.

"Yeah..." you chuckled lightly "I knew you played a sport but never thought you were my friend's captain."

"I didn't know if it sounded cool─" he admitted.

"Are you kidding?!" you exclaimed "It's amazing! Volleyball isn't an easy sport. The amount of people that depend on you to lead them, yet you still have their backs and know what to say" you smiled looking up at him. "It's admirable really."

Daichi rubbed the back of his head, shyly smiling "Thank you I try my best to keep them under control... but sometimes they don't bother to listen."

"I know how that feels."

Sugawara stood quiet watching you two converse as if you were the only ones. He wanted to say something to get Daichi all flustered but didn't have the heart to do so. 'I am sooo going to have fun with this.' he thought.

[blackknightgargiemoviephile]

How To Train Your Dragon Saga

In the beginning, I was never really interested in watching the movie and never even bothered to watch the trailer, since we thought it was one of those cliche failure movies (and Dreamworks hasn't really had a very good track record of good animated movies at the time), but after being bombarded with tons of Toothcup fanfics and fanarts and after very high recommendations by my friend Jello13 from dA, I finally got down to watching the movie. Boy, was I glad I took my friend's recommendation to watch this movie, and the subsequent sequels after that, because after 3, 4 friggin' times, I still fucking LOVE this movie!!!

Here's my findings of the saga:

Apparently this movie was based on a children's novel written by Cressida Cowell which focuses on the 2nd book in a 10-volume book franchise. There are certain deviations between the real Hiccup and Toothless and the storyline as a whole, but after reading the summary of the original story, I think I like the movie version better. In fact even the writer said so in her blog that she likes the deviation as the movie captured the core essence of her story and it was amazing to see her story to be interpreted this way.

The storyline and the pacing is very good, and the sarcastic humour and slight optimism of Hiccup despite people thinking he's anything BUT a Viking is very intriguing. I love his catchphrases like "I'm way too muscular for their tastes. They wouldn't know what to do with all...this" and "Thank you for summing that up" and his famous line "You just gestured to ALL of me!" is just some of the LOL-worthy lines the talented Jay Baruchel who voices Hiccup does.

I was totally shocked to find out that Gerard Butler plays the role of Stoick, Hiccup's old man! I have never expect him, who is known for his brawniness and action-packed persona, made famous in the movie 300, would actually play a voice-over for a cartoon character. After finding out, spotting his voice and hearing the familiarity was much, much easier.

And of course, the creme de la creme of the entire movie: TOOTHLESS!! He is just so, so, so, soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo uber cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute~~~~!!!!! When I read about him in fanfics and caught glimpses of him through fanarts, I was thinking, "Hey, this dragon is quite cute." Now amplify that feeling by a gajillion times more. That's how I feel about Toothless. He started off a little vicious with his snake-like slit for eyes, trying to act strong and tough like the dragon he was, but the moment he let his guard down a little, he got these pair of big doe eyes that is just so MOE and SQUEE-worthy. And of course I finally learn how he got his namesake: with retractable teeth that he can materialize at will

My most favourite scene of the entire movie would be this scene where Toothless finally was at peace with Hiccup and allowed him to touch him. The way Toothless tried to copy his drawing, and then growled whenever Hiccup stepped on his drawing, then Hiccup moved to avoid the lines in tune with the music until finally they were so close they were allowed to touch was just so AWW-worthy. And the music score was perfect too, especially the title of that score: Forbidden Friendship. Isn't that just sweet?

The part where Hiccup and Toothless slowly develop that bond while trying to get Toothless back on his flight feet again was also very interesting as they slowly worked together and forget each other's differences to reach a common goal, while at the same time trying to learn about each other, and Hiccup using that knowledge to good use (the eel and the scratching of the neck part was really epic), making him the life of the team, much to his crush, Astrid's chagrin.

I also love the part where Hiccup tries to convince everyone during the final exam of killing a dragon that dragons are not what they think they are, and tried to pacify the Monstrous Nightmare only to be interrupted by Stoick and having Toothless coming to the rescue (damsel in distress much, Hiccup? XD) and revealed their relationship. It felt really sad and my heart just broke when Hiccup shouted Toothless for him not to kill Stoick and Toothless looked at him with his doe eyes, then Hiccup tries in vain to stop everyone from hurting Toothless, and that argument which led to his disowning, and earning back his role as a son by proving his worth and Toothless' reputation, though a cost of his leg. I was wondering where would be the scene where he looses his leg, since I read that he had a prosthetic in fanfics, but turns out it happened in the near end of the movie, and literally mirrored Toothless' missing left tail fin.

Ending is a bit cliche where he gets the girl, he is lauded as a war hero and gained the respect of everyone including his father, the dragons made peace with humans and all that, but still it was a very heartwarming cliche scene. One that leaves a smile on your face and a sigh of contentment in your heart.

Speaking of Astrid, not really sure it's because of that yaoi in me, but I never really saw Astrid as a suitable pairing for Hiccup. I know, I'm not usually one for bestiality, but seriously, can't you just FEEL the love between Hiccup and Toothless to the point where you can consider them as lovers? Toothcup (Toothless/Hiccup) pairings are in the rage right now since the movie has been uber popularize, and you cannot deny that sort of relationship exist, right?

This one, personally I feel, is almost as par as the first one. Not better, not worse, but more or less par. Hiccup and Astrid are still together, but the Toothcup shipper in me just don't feel like they match somehow. Moreso, suddenly out of the blue, Snotlout and Fishlegs were heads over heels with Ruffnut, which I ABSOLUTELY have NO CHEMISTRY feel whatsoever! Even after I've watched their TV series that led to the second movie, I STILL don't get the vibe or the chemistry between those three people. It's like "Wait, what?" moment.

Although that moment when Ruffnut was just totally thirsty for Eret was absolutely hilarious though. I couldn't help laughing and cringing at the same time.

When the moment Hiccup's mom Valka showed up, I was not expecting her to be so... skinny. Stoick said that he made helmets out of Hiccup's mom's breast plate, and it seemed pretty big, but looking at her, she didn't look like someone who was close to being a big bosom woman, but what is continuity anyways? LOL Though Hiccup definitely has inherited her knack for dragons. Guess it's in the blood after all.

I teared up a little when Stoick died, and I felt so bad that their bromance was threatened by this, but thankfully Hiccup still loves Toothless and is willing to forgive him and try to bring him back to his side. Goes to show how deep their bond is, and Toothless ended up becoming the Alpha Dragon was one of the most epic moments in the whole movie.

It also kinda interesting that Hiccup has somehow became pretty hot in this movie. Was pretty surprised at how he transformed from the awkward tiny little runt of a boy to a strapping man LOL

Plot feels similar to the 2nd one, but the ending was so so SO bittersweet. A fitting ending, but sweet yet painful for me to watch.

My heart broke at the scene wen Hiccup was complaining about Toothless being in love n said "Am I not enough?" and I was like internally screaming "YES! U ARE ENOUGH!! U TWO ARE ENOUGH!! FUCK THAT LIGHT FURY!!"

Throughout the courtship scene btwn Toothless and the Light Fury i was like internally screaming "NO, SHE'S A TRAP! SHE'S A FUCKING TRAP! HICCUP, WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS?! I'M NOT HAPPY WITH THIS! I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!"

I cried like a fucking baby, especially at the end of the movie. It was like I knew it was happening, that they were gonna break up, but I was in denial, then when Toothless hugged Hiccup goodbye, I lost it, waterworks all over. In fact, waterworks all the way to the end at their final reunion ugly-cried like a fucking baby.

It did ended perfectly; perfectly bittersweet and perfectly heartbreaking and I was like "This is it. It's official. It's over. My Toothcup ship has fucking sank!!"

Fuck you, DreamWorks, you have killed my bromance!! Gahh!! I hate and love this movie at the same time!

Overall rating:

HTTYD: 9/10

HTTYD2: 7.5/10

HTTYD: 9/10

[garrothromeave]

the hell is mystreet season 6??

(warning, long post ahead)

ok so before i start this

1) ive never posted shiiiit on tumblr before so watch me suffer, im just here to talk about stuff that my friends who dont know anything about aphmau have to listen to me rant about for hours on end

2) i havent seen mystreet in like years (except season 3, i watch that frequently since im laurance and shadow knight deprived) so please bear with me because i might be completely wrong on this lol. it’s just like, pointing out things i remember

3) im sure someones already talked about this but who cares

4) im gonna do this stupid thing where i just explain myself a bit at first, if you dont want to read that just skip to the part where you see “the actual thingy:” in bold and italics 

5) mild disclaimer; i am completely aware that jessica is not a professional writer. i know that she did her best to appeal to her fans, and honestly, respect for that. while this post will come off as aggressive and probably look like hate, that’s not my intention in the slightest. it’s just... intense criticism. im sure y’all probably already know that, but yeah, just stating that anyways. i do believe that jess is doing her best, and in no way do i want to dismiss any hard work she’s done. that being said; prepare for a very strongly opinionated post.

haha watch there be 10000+ typos in this making me look like a complete dumbass

ok here we go 

one of the main reasons i stopped watching aphmau back in 2017 was the mess that was season 4. like, in the first few episodes of the emerald secret, i thought “woah!! this is kinda cool, im a sucker for mystery!” because of course i was, it was something new and something exciting. the only problem i had with it at the time was kim, but that’s just because i always found her annoying and out of place. i just didn’t understand why garroth dragged her along and honestly i still don’t to this day BUT, moving on.

anyways, as the season progressed, 13 year old me was of course just “:0!!” the entire time--that is, up until the reveal of the main villain. i remember watching the episode, seeing the reveal of ein, and then stopping. like, just for a quick break, but i was still just overwhelmingly disappointed. like, and this was the time when pdh was airing and ein just got made alpha (i think?) and i had really really liked eins character in pdh. either way, that really sucked and actually opened my eyes to a lot of things.

one of the main things bein’ the fact that this was supposed to be a slice of life kinda series that decided to take a turn to a more edgy kinda approach. which, i guess i regularly wouldnt mind? but seeing as mcd was kinda bein neglected at the time it just didnt sit right with me. BUT WHATEVER, point is i stopped watching mystreet all together at the end of season 4.

like, a whole year later my brother tells me that shit’s getting intense in season 5 + 6 of mystreet, and my brilliant self decided to give it a shot--but i refused to watch all of season 5, so i only stepped in when ein made an appearance. so whenever that was, that’s where i picked up because i didnt care enough to see 

and y’know--i honestly didn’t hate it at first. in fact, i found it oddly cool. it wasn’t enough to get me into aphmau again, but it was enough to where i was intrigued. i dont know why, but i never watched the finale, so i didnt see the ending until just a few weeks ago--but back then, i thought it was neat. looking back on it however... im just so confused. 

side note: only got back into aphmau this time around because of mcd. mainly because like, i adore the first season and the first half of the second season. and being nearly 18 now, im a lot more appreciative of plot and well-written characters n junk. 

the actual thingy:

ok back on track. imma stop spilling out my story of how i got back into aphmau, and lets just skip to what rewatching mcd made me realize of season 6′s plot and shit:

-emmalyn. how the fuck does ghost even remotely exist? if she’s emmalyn as claimed, then why have we already seen emmalyn in the mystreet universe alive? look i get that creators can do whatever they want with their stories but at the same time please provide some sort of explanation good god. and maybe they did and i just havent seen it, so if there is one--let me know. but until that day imma just sit here confused as fuck

-ok so imma just be real, the whole ‘ultima’ thing is just... not great. in my opinion, anyways. like... i saw someone mention this in another post, but if this ultima stuff was like, a really big deal, why isnt it mentioned in mcd? though i suppose since its a curse of sorts, it could be later on past the time period in which mcd takes place--but even then, how did it manage to make its way into aaron’s family bloodline? 

-WHY IS EVERYONE AT STARLIGHT ITS JUST SO CONVINIENT like what happened to this place being the most expensive shit on the planet or whatever, and how the gang happens to run into like, the werewolf trio and blaze and kai and guy and nate all of these people like god damn life doesnt WORK LIKE THAT 

-im sorry but turning people into relics? thats... thats the best you could come up with? plus, like, how does that even work? in mcd it’s established that relics are separate entitles that choose their wielder, based on a ‘personal’ connection (being a descendent of a previous wielder) or if they’re a good match personality and (i think?) moral wise. so the whole turning-people-into-relics doesnt make much sense to be honest. 

-irene really over here using her god powers to only keep her friends alive like god damn not a great god if you ask me 

-can i talk about how incredibly predictable aphmaus death was? like i just kinda sat there waiting for it to happen and when it did i literally went “haha! wonder when she’ll be revived” because god forbid we actually kill off characters 

-when aphmau + demon warlock fought in the irene dimension there was no passage of time whatsoever in the real world whiiiiiiiiich really bothers me because they fought in there for at least a few minutes

-speaking of aphmau and the demon warlocks fight does it bother anyone else that it had to be aaron who took over the fight?? like we get it hes the big protector blah blah blah but god damn it wouldve been cooler if aphmau had fought this battle as her. aaron fighting this battle was so underwhelming

-...love. like, thats the only thing thats needed to break out of a forever potion? love? LIKE YEAH, GOOD GUYS GOTTA WIN SOMEHOW, but its just so cliche and overdoneeee

-oh yeah and also when travis went bonkers and became the demon warlock or whatever, why’d he only take over katelyn and garroth?? like, zane had been influenced by the potions in the past as well? DONT GET ME WRONG--i do love some good brother edge, but uh, the demon warlock was just bein kinda a dumbass by not possessing zane too just sayin’

-can aaron please go to fucking jail for mass murder now like holy shit, he just got sent home on a fuckin boat. also why did blaze forgive him for killing him thats not even remotely realistic. then again, nothing in mystreet has ever been realistic when it comes to characters and motives and personalities, (cough katelyn being actually abusive and travis being an actual pervert) but yknow whatever

-katelyn and kawaii chan literally added nothing to the plot whatsoever. like lets be real, katelyn lost her personality the moment season 5 started and kawaii chan just kinda sits there :I

-ok im sorry this was bound to come up but cmon guys imagine laurances potential if he was in season 6 like god damn this is beyond maddening. AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A REALLY REALLY COOL PARRALLEL?? IF IT WAS LAURANCE WHO SNAPPED GARROTH OUT OF HIS MIND CONTROL THING, because it would mimic laurance’s speech to get garroth to snap out of his rage in season 1, episode 100 of minecraft diaries. like how fuckin rad would that have been? missed opportunity 

-also?? why does kim/ghost know magicks?? like, if i remember correctly, emmalyn is a scholar--not someone who knew magicks. i mean, i guess research? study?? but its been established that knowing how magicks works =/= being able to use magicks. i dunno, just doesnt seem right i guess. maybe its explained, i wouldnt know (yes i know that makes me look like a dick leave me alone)

-melissa should have stayed dead. LIKE, NO, ITS NOT AS SIMPLE AS “haha it takes more than a few bullets to kill me”??? look ive got nothing wrong with melissa (cough lie cough) but yknow it would have just been cool a character... stay dead? for once? its just too fuckin cliche that shes alive god damn

-can i also just say the only good thing that came out of season 6 was travis’ dads sacrifice like damn that made me actually sad

-howww was lucinda turned into a relic. or yknow, anyone else? like im sure they explain it better in the actual show i just dont remember, but its just that easy? turning anyone into a relic? granted, a normal person wouldnt be able to produce a good relic, but idk man. IM JUST SAYING; that the only really powerful relics that aphmau should have been able to wield is the one that aaron + zane produced because shad relic and esmund relic moment. lucinda isnt even like, connected to a divine warrior. ALSO, another point, if its seriously that powerful of a relic getting one from just a magic user like lucinda, why go through the trouble? i mean i guess ofc youd want the “all powerful” one that the ultima produces but i mean damn whats the point

-ok this is just going to bother me but in one of the episodes (i think might have been in season 5 actually) where that like, guardian dude was chasing aphmau and zane and at one point they split up and the dude just chuckles at zane diverting paths and goes under his breath “youre not the important one here”, suggesting that aphmau somehow is? first of all, id argue that any ro’meave is significantly more important than aphmau was, especially not knowing much about her other than that shes with aaron. i might be missing some bits an pieces, but if i was that dude id forget about aphmau and go after zane 

-killing off derek for shock factor sucked, and i know the moment was supposed to be really sad because like “oh :( aarons dad is sacrificing himself for his son” but lets be real dereks still was a shitty father and i dont think his reasons for doing what he did was very good at all

-less about plot or more like: why the absolute fuck did the gang bring kim along instead of, oh i dont know, a life-long friend? like, laurance or dante maybe?? im sure its explained, i never saw aphmaus year or most of season 5, but god DAMN id hate to be apart of this friend group AND GOD LIKE, imagine reconnecting with an old friend who ends up getting closer to your best friends and taking priority in their lives over you (cough laurance) like god damn lol

-im just going to preface this one with: i dont remember everything that’s happened, so if im wrong i apologize in advance--but (you actually can correct me if im wrong and please do) didnt like, irene reincarnate her friends in order to give them better lives? I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS TRUE, ITS JUST WHAT I REMEMBER--however, if im correct, then:

a. why the hell would she bring back someone like zane, or gene, or ivy, etc.

b. why the hell do they all have the same exact names? first and last? again, im aware that the whole mystreet+mcd tie wasn’t originally supposed to be there, but i dont think that means such a coincidence can be excused? its just a bit much if you ask me.

c. why the hell is the fact that (as much as i literally hate this) aaron is a decedent of shad being ignored? like, you’d think that something like this would be something thats actually important, or something the demon warlock couldve taken advantage of. or are we completely erasing every other connections to divine warriors besides aphmau + irene? because even if irene did reincarnate them or do whatever it is she did, does she even have the power to sever the connections between them and their ancestors? my guess is, no.

d. speaking of irene why on earth was aphmau able to talk to/see irene, they’re literally the same person are they not? did she like, fuckin reincarnate herself without actually doing it?? BUT--i will give it to them, the demon warlock did refer to aphmau as something along the lines of being “one of the 3 parts of her broken soul” or something like that. however, my point still remains. also what are the other two did i miss that or is it never explained

now; if irene in fact did not ‘reincarnate’ her friends then please ignore that little bit right there :)

but yes, those are a few of the problems i have with season 6 off the top of my head. i would go into like, season 4 and 5 more as well, but i honestly didnt feel like it. at some point i might go into other things, like how important laurance could have been to the plot of these later seasons, or HELL, even dante. i might also go into what could have made season 4, 5, and 6 actually good--maybe... a rewrite? perhaps? but im getting too far ahead of myself, so i just leave you with this for now.

and i know that as soon as i post this 15 more things are just going to pop into my head BUT im going to try and not edit this post because why stress myself with that even more

anyways thank you for coming to my tedtalk 

[sierraraeck]

Daylight

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After a long time without answers and your relationship ending on rocky terms, you run into Spencer and can finally put things to rest. Part one.

The prompt from @veraiconcos Fic Writer Challenge was “If I asked you to stay, would you?” This is bolded within the fic.

Category: Angst. Just pure angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This was initially a songfic and now it’s not, however it was still inspired by the song “Daylight” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

Internal dialogue

Flashback

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

In one word, complicated.

Yes, that was a cliche and overused, but there was really no better way to describe your relationship with Spencer. Unless of course people preferred terms like arduous, intricate, convoluted, twisted, entangled, or your personal favorite, fucked up. Although, that might be a little harsh. Kind of. It was complicated.

And things continued on that path when you waltzed into the San Jose precinct, ready to defend your client against none other than the BAU.

Despite being 28, you were already one of the most successful defense attorneys in the state, and had already had a couple run-ins with the FBI. Luckily, none of those had been against the ‘all-powerful’ behavioral analysis unit, and you were able to wrangle out some wins, or at least, the best you could have hoped for given the circumstances. This time, a man, Brayden Lee, had been arrested as a suspect for a series of strangulations, all of the victims tall, blonde, college athletes. Looking over his case and the amount of evidence against him, you felt sure that you could manage a favorable deal.

But now, your strides faltered as you saw the team of profilers standing around in a circle, speaking in hushed voices, immediately turning around to watch you in. Well, it wasn’t necessarily them that teetered your confidence, it was more like him. And that damn hair.

You were at your older brother’s graduation. A small, skinny kid with moppy brown curls walked across the stage, the gown he was wearing clearly three sizes too big for him. He looked really young, about your age, which immediately interested you.

“Spencer Reid,” the announcer called. He accepted his diploma, moved his tassel from one side to the other, and plopped right back down in his seat.

You just stared at him from your place high up in the bleachers, almost missing your brother as he walked across the stage. You clapped and cheered, but you still couldn’t tear your eyes from the strange kid who’d walked across moments before him. When the ceremony was over, you asked your brother who he was, and all he gave you was a shrug and an arched eyebrow. That was not exactly the answer you were looking for. So you took it upon yourself, being the awkwardly brave kid you were at 12, to find him and learn more. You ended up taking him home after the ceremony, and that was that. You still remember the dopey smile he gave you as he hopped out of the backseat, a smile that you would miss for three more years.

You tried to compose yourself as you avoided eye contact with any of them, marching toward the interrogation room to have some time alone with your client. But it had never been this hard to concentrate before.

Snap out of it. It’s been four fucking years, six if you really think about it, so you need to get it together. This man, the one right in front of your face, needs your help.

So you did just that. As a lawyer, you had to have intense focus, so you made yourself hone in on that skill. The two older men of the team came in to have quite the nice chat with you and your client, but it ended fairly close to how you predicted. He would be let off, for now, but you would have to stay on call in case they found more evidence of your client’s guilt. You ushered Brayden out of the station and into a cab, telling him that you’d be in touch if anything else came up and to keep a low profile.

You were ready to be done, but had to make sure there weren’t any other loopholes or things they weren’t telling you before you could leave. You trudged back into the precinct, expecting to talk to the two men you saw earlier, but found that once-nerdy boy you used to know waiting for you. Not to say he wasn’t still nerdy, you were sure he was, but he’d definitely changed since the last time you saw him.

You tried to act as professional as possible, “Is there anything else that I need to know about this case and your evidence against my client?” Honestly, you were shocked at how calm your voice sounded.

“As long as you’ve heard about his recent purchases and easy access to the material used to strangle these women, no,” he responded, just as casually.

“Okay great, and nothing else in the profile I should be aware of?”

“Nope.”

“Alright then,” you said, turning on your heels to walk out.

“That’s it?” Spencer’s tone suddenly sounded confused, even accusatory, which was such a stark contrast to the smoothe, gentle voice you remembered.

You were at the local library studying for your midterms before the holiday break. No one really went there anymore, and there were a ton of good research tools available, so it was the perfect quiet study spot. Well, mostly quiet, that was, until the ever-so-irritating ping of books being checked out was going off non-stop. You’d had enough, so you shot over your shoulder, “Jesus, how many books do you need?”

The pinging immediately stopped, and you heard a small, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

It wasn’t a lot, but something about that voice seemed familiar. You turned fully around to see those piercing gold eyes staring at you, and you recognized those curls.

“No way. You’re the kid who graduated high school at age twelve! I remember you,” you blurted before really thinking.

“Yeah. Hey (y/n),” he said.

“I’m so sorry I snapped at you like that…”

“Spencer,” he filled in, after hearing you hiss like a snake, trying to jog your memory of his name.

“Spencer! Sorry about that, I’m just kinda stressed about my exams,” you explained.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Spencer replied, gesturing to his ever-growing pile of books.

You inquired about how things were going for him, and he told you all about how his first year and a half in college had been, already obtaining his bachelor’s in mathematics.

“That’s so impressive. Think you could help me?” you said in a somewhat mocking tone.

Of course, he took you seriously, not picking up on the half-joke. “Sure.”

Although, you were thrilled he offered, and the two of you spent the next couple of hours talking about high school and college classes, your seemingly easy math compared to his, and him helping you with any other subject you needed help with, like AP biology and psychology. At the end of the night, you gave him your phone number, trying to cover up your little crush with a joke about needing his help as you rushed out into the freezing night air.

He never used it.

“Yeah. That’s it,” you shot over your shoulder.

“(y/n), hold on, I-” he started.

“Doctor Reid, they need you in the conference room,” some lady said. Now that caught your attention. You spun back around to look at him with raised eyebrows. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes flitted between you and the lady who told him he was needed.

“What are you waiting for, Doctor,” you sneered. He let out a sigh, giving you one last pointed look before turning away. You didn’t even know people called him ‘doctor’ now.

You returned home, hoping that the case would get cleared up easily, that they’d find a different culprit and you wouldn’t have to risk that floodgate of emotions bursting open. No such luck. They found Brayden at the scene of the crime, literally in the middle of digging up an old victim to do god knows what with, and took him back into custody. When you got back to the precinct, you told your client not to say a word, and asked what the charges were and if he was going to be transferred in the meantime. The answers to your questions were not in your favor, and you had one of the worst client-lawyer conversations you'd ever experienced. The man wouldn’t tell you a damn thing, and if he didn’t tell you anything, then you couldn’t help him. Of course, it was your job to try and help him as best as you could, but you whole-heartedly believed he was guilty too, which didn’t help you keep the right mindset. Plus, your heart was pounding into your ears for more reasons than being across the table from a serial killer.

Focus, please, you begged yourself. And you did, for a while, but it became a futile effort. At one point you just wanted to say ‘fuck this shit, lock him up’ and leave, you were that desperate.

When it was all over and the station was getting everything together in order to transfer him to a holding facility, you tried to slip out the doors and wait outside. Only moments after, though, you heard the door squeak back open.

“(y/n),” Spencer started.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly interjected. You had been contemplating for the last day or so if you needed to apologize, and just figured you would, if not for your sake, for your clients’. I mean, they would probably end up testifying at some point, not like that was the main thought going through your mind, but you convinced yourself it was. “I shouldn’t have conducted myself like that earlier. It was unprofessional and you were just trying to talk to me.”

“It’s fine. I probably deserved it,” he acknowledged.

“Probably, but that’s all in the past and I should have left it there,” you concluded. You both stood in absolute silence until it became too much to bear. You decided you’d at least try to act natural, “So how have things been since the last time I saw you?”

Spencer looked at you with surprised eyes, but answered with, “They’ve been interesting. There always seems to be a new case. How about you?”

“Same. Just one after the other, but it’s nice knowing I’m helping people,” you added.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Come on, what else can you throw out there? “Uh, so, they call you ‘doctor’ now?”

He offered a small laugh. “Yeah, they do. When I started, you know, I was much younger than anyone else in the bureau-”

“Still are,” you interjected.

He continued, “-true, but one of my mentors, who’s gone now, told people to call me that and I guess it just stuck.”

“Well, it sounds nice.”

“Thanks. I hear you are doing pretty well yourself, getting national mentions and such,” he stated.

You raised your eyebrows, “You heard about that?” A year or so back you got recognized as the top rising talent in your field of work, but you didn’t think that news would make it to the other coast. Unless he was specifically looking for that information…

“Yeah, I did. The FBI likes to keep tabs on people that might cause them the most trouble in a case, you being one of them.”

“Seriously?” You were astonished. The FBI was keeping tabs on you? “Why?”

“Just in case they get tired of opposing you and would rather work with you,” he shrugged, “But you seem to be having fun opposing right now.”

You let a smile reach the surface at that. “That obvious, huh?”

“I’m a profiler. Plus, you’ve always had a thing for opposing the ‘overbearing’ power and sticking up for the little guy.”

That was a little too close to home. You knew he meant that in more ways than one, and you couldn’t help but think about that god-awful night when you were just two kids trying to take a walk in the moonlight. The night that solidified your friendship.

It happened so fast. All you did was walk away for a second to throw your trash away, but that was all it took for the boys to pounce. Spencer had been attending CalTech for three years, and you were there to pop into the chemistry class, which you conveniently had with Spencer. Those other 20 year olds hated you and Spencer for the sole reason that you were two nerdy 17 year olds that were making them look bad. They’d already gotten in a few good punches before you returned, but when you did, you were livid. They were holding Spencer up while taking turns at him. You worked quickly, setting your phone to record before stepping in between one of the boys and Spencer. You hadn’t intended on getting caught in the crossfire, but you did, landing yourself a pretty bruise on your cheek for the next two weeks. You yelled at them about how they were assaulting a minor and how you now had all of their faces on tape, along with some other legal shit. One of them smashed your phone and went for another punch, but you kicked him in the throat before he could get to you, putting him flat on his ass. He tapped out, and you later found out he’d gotten whiplash from how he landed on the ground. They ran off, and when you turned around, Spencer collapsed in your arms. He was littered with cuts, blood, and already developing bruises. You took him back to his dorm and cleaned him up, spending the night before figuring out how to recover the footage. Once you did, you showed it to the board members, effectively expelling the boys and bringing them up on charges for assault. They got convicted, and no one screwed with either of you again. That was the moment you really decided to become a lawyer.

“Yeah, I guess I have,” you murmured. Brayden was brought out in cuffs and shoved into the back of a squad car, which was your cue to get moving. You had a full case on your hands.

You turned to leave, but as you did, Spencer stopped you. “Hey, would you maybe want to catch up later?”

You didn’t remember him ever being so bold before, and were caught off guard by the question. You stumbled out, “Uh, what did you have in mind?”

“Just … coffee, maybe?”

“Sure,” you said, and immediately saw Spencer’s shoulders relax. “Do you still remember where Arnette’s is?”

“Of course,” he responded. That used to be your favorite go-to spot.

“Alright then. I should be done with this at around eight,” you said, hopping into your car before he could respond. The officer with Brayden had already sped away, and you needed to stay close behind.

The whole drive you kicked yourself for saying yes. You were getting over him. You had gotten over him. And you loved Jordan and couldn’t help feeling like this was somehow betraying him. Plus, why should you be meeting him to catch up? He hadn’t been interested in that for five years! I mean, you put everything into making your relationship work. Sure, you were realistic that it wouldn’t last, but he could have at least tried.

You had it planned out. You would keep in touch until you could go out and visit him during the summer for Fourth of July during your sophomore year of college. The next year, he’d visit you, and the one after that, you’d visit him and so on. But that was the problem. There was no ‘so on.’ You visited him for the second time and that was it. And pretty soon, you could barely get him to pick up the damn phone. The last thing you heard from him was that he was pretty busy starting out with the BAU, along with an unanswered text wondering how his first case went.

But, you already agreed, so you might as well just see what happens.

You threw on some nice, non-work clothes and drove to the little shop on the corner. God you felt like a teenager.

It was just before eight and Spencer was already there waiting for you. Of course he was.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this was supposed to be two people who used to care about each other, and honestly still do, just catching up. Simply talking. About the present, no need to worry about the past.

“Hey, (y/n).” You always liked the way he said your name with welcoming confidence.

“Hey,” you replied. He opened the door for you and you shuffled in. With no surprise, you were the only two in there, and he went ahead and ordered for both of you, remembering what you wanted with ease. You gave him a bit of a confused look as you waited for your drinks.

“What?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable by your staring.

“Nothing, it’s just that you remember my order, that’s all.”

“I do have a really good memory,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but you also told me once that that only went for visuals, and your eidetic memory didn’t really work on audio,” you quipped.

“That’s true. I guess some things just stick. Plus, it’s not like you made it hard on me. You always ordered the same thing.”

You laughed a little, “I guess that’s true.”

You grabbed your drinks and left the hole-in-the-wall, autopilot kicking in, taking you both along the path that went around the park. Spencer sighed.

“Hm?” you questioned.

“Just, you know, thinking,” he said, brows furrowed.

“About what?”

“How we used to do this all the time. You’d finish your high school classes, drive over to CalTech for chemistry, and then afterward we’d stop by for coffee and a walk,” his voice sounded like he was in a dream, and he looked into the night air as if there was some answer or memory floating around out there. You guessed there was a memory floating around out here.

“Yeah those were crazy years,” you recalled. “I felt like I was constantly on the move and everything was happening all at once and I had all of this stuff I needed to get done. But this was always a nice place where I could clear my head and forget all of that.” That feeling was starting to return as you kept walking, the sticky air of California clinging to your skin.

“It was nice. I miss those days sometimes,” he said.

What is he getting at? “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You walked in silence for a while, but you could see Spencer’s posture tense up more with each step. There was something on his mind and he wasn’t telling you.

“What is it?”

“What is what?” he acted bewildered.

“What’s on your mind?” He tried to shrug it off and deny it, but you knew him better than that. It might have been a while, but some things, like he said, just stick. And the way his body acted when he was thinking was one of them. “Don’t even try that. I know when there is something bothering you, now out with it.”

“Who is it?” That was all he offered and it was your turn to be confused.

“Huh?”

“Who has the other one?” he said, voice a bit harsher than before, motioning to the gold ring around your finger.

“His name is Jordan.”

“Jordan, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What does he do?” Spencer inquired.

“He’s also a lawyer. We actually met in law school,” you answered somewhat hesitant. You still didn’t know what he was getting at, if anything.

“Oh. Nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your attitude starting to flare up.

“Absolutely nothing. Just not what I thought,” he stated with a bit of an edge to his voice.

“What did you think?” You were trying not to get offended by whatever he was implying, but you couldn’t help it. He asks me to catch up just to make passive aggressive criticisms?

“I don’t know. Not that, I guess.”

At this point, you wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “Well, you know, you could have changed that,” you replied in the same passive aggressive manner.

“What would you have wanted me to do?” his voice was raising, obviously picking up on what you were putting down.

“Uh, I don’t know, how about respond to one goddamned text?”

“I tried.”

“Not really. And then you just went dark,” you spat.

“You seemed to be fine with that. You moved on pretty quickly,” he hissed, not even bothering to look at you.

“Why do you think that is, genius? I visited you, and then you stopped answering my calls. You stopped responding to my texts. I basically never heard from you again, and then the next thing I know, your showing up on my fucking tv, in California for a case, and you don’t even reach out. You didn’t even ask to meet up anywhere, not even stop by to say hey. Nothing. You did nothing once your job swallowed you up whole. I know what that’s like and it’s hard, believe me, I’m a lawyer for Chrissake, but I found the time. Plus, for all I knew, you had already found someone else, so I wasn’t going to wait around for the guy who seemed to love me much less than I loved him.” By the end, you were yelling, and thanking the stars above you that no one was around to hear it.

“You’re right,” he whispered after a while.

You were stunned, and could only manage a small, “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated. “I should have put in more effort. I don’t know, (y/n), I wish I had a better answer for you but I don’t. I was young, and stupid, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I let my insecurities get in the way of us, and I will never be able to forgive myself for that.”

“What?” It was seriously the only thing going through your mind, however, you were able to force out, “Insecurities?”

“Yeah. I was worried that because I was away, you were going to tire of me, that you weren’t going to want to stay in a relationship. I thought that maybe, by being ‘tied’ to me, so to speak, that I was holding you back, which we promised each other we would never do. We said that we would never get in the way of the other’s dream, and I wondered if maybe I was going to do that to you. I just … I had all of these doubts, so I panicked. I stopped responding. And I was so wrong to do that.”

Now that he’d said them, they sounded like some of the same doubts he expressed to you the night before he left.

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven, which means I have to be there by six, which means I have to be leaving here by four-thirty at the latest,” he recited. He had all of his stuff piled by the door, which was hardly anything at all. You were in his hotel room because his house was soon to be taken over by a young couple, since he’d be living in Massachusetts, and his mother was in a mental facility. You’d just come back from visiting her, which left Spencer in tears.

You ate dinner while playing chess, which he effectively beat you at. You were actually pretty good at it, but no match for his math-based brain. You snuggled into bed next to him, willing yourself to keep it together because the last thing you wanted to do was spend your last night with him an emotional wreck. He queued up a movie, but neither of you paid any attention to it. His arm was draped around your shoulders and yours were clasped around his waist.

Spencer’s hand lazily circled your back until it moved with purpose down to your thigh. He continued his lazy patterns when you looked up at him, a question in your eyes.

You’d been with Spencer for over a year, and recalled your first time. You were ready before he was, which came as no surprise, but that didn’t stop the nerves from racing through your head. But if you thought you were nervous, you had no idea what was going through Spencer’s head. He later told you that he was absolutely terrified because he didn’t want to do something wrong, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to think less of him because of his body style, and a million other things that he was scared about. That’s how you accidentally said the ‘L’ word. “Spencer Reid, I would never judge you and you could never scare me away. I love you and your body and your brain, and you are not going to do something wrong, not like I’d know because we are both new to this and are doing it together. Understand?”

He gave you a shy smile. “I do.”

Now though, it was very different. Comfortable, confident, safe.

“Can I have you?” he asked, “All of you, one last time?”

You leaned up to kiss him, and he sighed when you pulled away. You looked him straight in the eyes, “I’m all yours.”

And you were. You felt like you always had been and probably always would be, and could only hope that he felt a fraction of the same. Your bodies pushed and pulled in perfect unison, fitting together as if you were two pieces of a puzzle, specifically crafted for the other.

You returned to your curled up position beside him, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears silently flowed out of your eyes, but you couldn’t make yourself peel your arms away from him long enough to wipe them away. You attempted to sob without making a sound, knowing that if Spencer saw you crying, it would make him cry, and he couldn’t cry because it would make you cry more, splitting you right in half. It didn’t matter how quiet you were being about it, because when you looked up at Spencer, you saw the same silent tears glistening on his cheeks. It was only then that you pulled your hands from around him and brushed away his tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” you apologized. “This is supposed to be exciting. You’re going to the best school in the country to get your PhD.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, moving his hands up and down your arms, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m making the right decision.”

This took you by surprise. He’d always seemed confident about this, passionate about furthering his education. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to complicate things for anyone. For my mother. For you.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” You knew it was unfair, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The only thing you wanted to say. You needed him, and it was sickening wondering if soon, he might not need you. He stared at you dumbfoundedly, so you quickly covered it up with, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. You are about to start a whole new part of your life, and you should go, pursue your dreams with the best education this country can offer. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

You repositioned yourself back on his chest, and started to drift off to sleep when you felt him sigh. You lazily peered up at him, meeting his restless eyes. “Spence, you need to sleep.”

“I can sleep on the plane. I need this more,” he said, smiling at you. You tried to stay awake like you knew Spencer would, but to no avail. You did, however, wake up to him getting ready to leave. He kissed you goodbye, and you held yourself together until he’d walked out, the door shutting with a definite ‘click.’

All the air had been stripped from your lungs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you’d never again without him by your side. You cried yourself back to sleep, willing this all to be one giant nightmare, but when you woke, he was gone. And you felt completely numb. So while you may have been two pieces of a puzzle, aiming to create the same beautiful picture, you no longer fit together.

You felt yourself starting to get flushed from constantly going in and out of anger then feeling bad and forgiving. It was exhausting, and probably part of the reason things didn’t work out between the two of you. That didn’t mean you loved him any less, though. He was, in fact, your first love, and you guess people were right about that stuff being more powerful and affecting you longer. Hell, you walked into the precinct for a total of three seconds before he was affecting you all over again!

You took a deep breath in before saying, “I guess we both made mistakes and wished we would have handled things differently.”

“What would you have handled differently?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“When I saw that you were in California for a case, instead of … doing what I did, I should have been the one who reached out. I could have just asked you then what was going through your mind and what was going on between us. Who knows how that might have changed things? But, I was petty,” you gave a cold laugh, “I guess I still am sometimes, huh?”

You had definitely been acting that way lately. You felt guilty and ashamed about it, but in that moment of anger four years ago, knowing that Spencer was out there ignoring you, you sent him a hurtful message and then blocked his number. Only a week or so prior, you’d met Jordan who was clearly hitting on you, and you were so firm about moving on that you asked him out. He eagerly agreed, and the rest was history. Or, at least, you thought was history.

Spencer shrugged and dodged the somewhat rhetorical question. “We can’t really dwell on that now.”

You knew he didn’t really mean that, considering he was the type of person who dwelled, but he was right. You were engaged to a great guy and soon to be married. This, Spencer, was something you were just going to have to come to terms with, something you realized you hadn’t come to terms with yet.

You’d been walking so absentmindedly next to him that you hardly noticed you were outside of a hotel. He stopped just outside the lobby entrance and turned to face you.

“Walk you to your room?” you offered. What the fuck did you just say? Why did you say that? You can’t say things like that. Stop it.

Spencer gave you that small, closed lip smile of his which immediately ended your inner scolding, and nodded, holding the door open for you. You walked up the stairs together in silence. When you reached his door, instead of getting out his card, he leaned his back up against the heavy wood.

“Alright, well, it was nice catching up, and I wish you safe travels in the morning,” you said, turning to leave. He quickly reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks, and you spun around to face him.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” Those words pierced through your ears, ringing all too familiar from when it was you who said them.

“Spence-” you started. And then his lips were on yours. Those sweet, soft lips. It had always been so natural between the two of you, and you felt his tongue bypass yours as you pushed further into the kiss. Then you remembered where, and when, you were, no longer that hopelessly devoted kid but an adult with a wonderful man waiting for you when you got home. You pulled away. “Spence-”

“I would have said yes, you know,” he confessed. The question must have been etched on your face, because he continued, “When you asked me that night, given the chance, I would have said yes.”

His words stung, and your whole body ached from rehashing old feelings, to igniting new ones, to the guilt of what just happened weighing on you so heavily you might just crumble beneath it. You murmured out, “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought you were right. I thought I was doing the right thing. Out of all the mistakes I’ve made, all the regrets I have, you, (y/n) (y/l/n), are my biggest one.” His honey brown eyes peered right into yours, like he was looking at something far greater than just your eyes, and repeated, “So right now, if I asked you to stay with me, would you?”

It was too much to handle. After all the time you’d spent wishing he was still yours, he finally could be, but you could no longer be his. Tears were streaming down your face as they once did, the first time you lost him, and you choked out, “I can’t.”

One More Night

Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

@kris-stuff

@wooya1224

[mydearesthrry]

places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre. 

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation. 

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right? 

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought. 

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open. 

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way. 

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers. 

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you. 

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion. 

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them. 

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj. 

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless. 

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle. 

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit. 

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.” 

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart. 

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.” 

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his  pockets. 

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the April 2021 Edition

I did not read Romeo and Juliet this month. I read a bunch of other books. Like, a bunch. More than one series. Because Big Bang burnout is real and grown adults missing their deadlines is a real good way to stress me out. So, I read a bunch. Good books, very bad books, books that caused limbs to flail. For positive and not-so-positive reasons. Naturally, all those reasons must be shared. Under the cut with occasionally long and rant-prone reviews, as well as spoilers. Beware of spoilers under the cut. Please keep telling me what to read, internet. My library wish list is almost comically long now.

GIVE ME ALL THE WORLD BUILDING AND SNARK AND FIGHTING! WITH MAGIC! AND SWORDS! IT’S MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!

Shades of Magic Series by V.E. Schwab

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black. After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive.

— Picture it, approximately twelve forty-seven am. My husband is asleep. I am reading. The second book in this series ends. And I say, right out loud, at what might now be twelve forty-eight am, HOLY SHIT IT JUST ENDED. Justin thought we were under attack. No man has ever snapped awake quicker. He was not pleased. At least not in the same way that I was about these books. Which I goddamn LOVED. Loved. The world building. The magic. The banter. Rhy and Kell’s relationship. Once more. RHY AND KELL’S RELATIONSHIP. Which I might have cared about more than the romance??? Maybe??? I cannot get over how good this world building was. I know people have quips with it, and that’s fair. I saw the “twist” coming in the first book, and I think trying to preserve that left some plot holes that are understandably frustrating. Because Lilah definitely needed depth perception to fight as well as she did. Also did Schwab really refer to her as a cross dresser in her author’s note? Yikes. She wore a dude’s jacket, like—c’mon V.E. Other than that though. I loved it. Also shout out to @peglegsjones for suggesting this one in my 2020 post and call out to me for taking so long to read it.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can't pull it off alone. . . . A convict with a thirst for revenge. A sharpshooter who can't walk away from a wager. A runaway with a privileged past. A spy known as the Wraith. A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums.  A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes.   Six dangerous outcasts. One impossible heist. Kaz's crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don't kill each other first.

— I’ve talked about how little I cared about anything that happened in Shadow and Bone before, but I kept seeing gifs of the Crows in the Netflix show and my brain was like: huh, I could like them. So, after some help from the very helpful internet, I’m happy to report I do in fact like them. At one point, I slunk into the couch. Like that’s how overcome with emotion I was. Kaz ripped a dude’s eye out! For Inej! Matthias loved Nina’s laugh! I would like to hug Jesper. Seriously, this hit all my high points and world building and banter and I lol’ed at “scheming face.” I would like my hold to come through faster on the sequel.

THEY DID NOT CALL INTERMISSION HALFTIME AND MY COLLEGE EXPERIENCE WAS WAY DIFFERENT THAN THESE KIDS

The Off Campus Series by Elle Kennedy

Hannah Wells has finally found someone who turns her on. But while she might be confident in every other area of her life, she’s carting around a full set of baggage when it comes to sex and seduction. If she wants to get her crush’s attention, she’ll have to step out of her comfort zone and make him take notice…even if it means tutoring the annoying, childish, cocky captain of the hockey team in exchange for a pretend date. All Garrett Graham has ever wanted is to play professional hockey after graduation, but his plummeting GPA is threatening everything he’s worked so hard for. If helping a sarcastic brunette make another guy jealous will help him secure his position on the team, he’s all for it. But when one unexpected kiss leads to the wildest sex of both their lives, it doesn’t take long for Garrett to realize that pretend isn’t going to cut it. Now he just has to convince Hannah that the man she wants looks a lot like him.

— The first book in this series was free on Amazon. So, I read it. And really liked it??? It was so chock full of cliches and badly written tropes and Garrett probably should have accepted that Hannah didn’t want to go out at the start, but like—he was cute? And as we all know I am TRASH™ for stories set in the same verse, so, like, I just kept reading these trashy college hockey books. Trashy is a compliment here. God, these kids had so much sex. So much. An incredible amount, really. I once had a guy tell me he was physically attracted to me, but not emotionally attracted to me in college. Like, that was my college experience. The first and second books were the best, I think. I didn’t really like Dean that much.

MAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE HE WAS A RABBI???

The Intimacy Experiement by Rosie Danan

Naomi Grant has built her life around going against the grain. After the sex-positive start-up she cofounded becomes an international sensation, she wants to extend her educational platform to live lecturing. Unfortunately, despite her long list of qualifications, higher ed won't hire her. Ethan Cohen has recently received two honors: LA Mag nominated him as one of the city's hottest bachelors and he became rabbi of his own synagogue. Low on both funds and congregants, the executive board of Ethan's new shul hired him with the hopes that his nontraditional background will attract more millennials to the faith. They've given him three months to turn things around or else they'll close the doors of his synagogue for good. Naomi and Ethan join forces to host a buzzy seminar series on Modern Intimacy, the perfect solution to their problems--until they discover a new one--their growing attraction to each other. They've built the syllabus for love's latest experiment, but neither of them expected they'd be the ones putting it to the test.

— Ok, I know that sounds bad. Again, I’m a creature of predictable habit and this was the sequel to The Roommate, which I absolutely LOVED last year. But where as the relationship in that one was kind of swoony, this one was...I don’t know, really. Everyone was a well-rounded character and the plot was good, but there was this semi-invisible something that made it difficult for me to get fully on board with the whole story. Honestly, it might be because he was a religious figure?? Also, they got together real quick. Like zero to sixty in twenty-six seconds flat.

I KNOW IT’S BAD, IT WAS BAD AND YET—I CANNOT STOP READING IT???

Too Wild to Tame by Tessa Bailey

Sometimes you just can't resist playing with fire . . . By day, Aaron Clarkson suits up, shakes hands, and acts the perfect gentleman. But at night, behind bedroom doors, the tie comes off and the real Aaron comes out to play. Mixing business with pleasure got him fired, so Aaron knows that if he wants to work for the country's most powerful senator, he'll have to keep his eye on the prize. That's easier said than done when he meets the senator's daughter, who's wild, gorgeous, and 100 percent trouble. Grace Pendleton is the black sheep of her conservative family. Yet while Aaron's presence reminds her of a past she'd rather forget, something in his eyes keeps drawing her in. Maybe it's the way his voice turns her molten. Or maybe it's because deep down inside, the ultra-smooth, polished Aaron Clarkson might be more than even Grace can handle . . .

— Last month I read the first book in this series and it was absolutely ridiculous. This one even more so. The Clarksons are still on the road trip (sans one sibling because she fell in love in a week in the first book) and Aaron was, like, not a root’able character? Very Edward Cullen I’M A BAD GUY, BELLA vibes and his relationship with Grace was so strange. Super rushed again, obvs. Meeting in the woods is weird enough. Professing love forty-eight hours later is decidedly unbelievable. Also there was a kidnapping involved? I totally put a hold on the next book in the series.

COME UP WITH DIFFERENT TRAUMA, I DARE YOU! OR NO TRAUMA. WHAT A CONCEPT!!

The Trouble With Hating You by Sajni Patel

Liya Thakkar is a successful biochemical engineer, takeout enthusiast, and happily single woman. The moment she realizes her parents' latest dinner party is a setup with the man they want her to marry, she's out the back door in a flash. Imagine her surprise when the same guy shows up at her office a week later -- the new lawyer hired to save her struggling company. What's not surprising: he's not too thrilled to see her either after that humiliating fiasco.

Jay Shah looks good on paper...and off. Especially if you like that whole gorgeous, charming lawyer-in-a-good-suit thing. He's also infuriating. As their witty office banter turns into late-night chats, Liya starts to think he might be the one man who truly accepts her. But falling for each other means exposing their painful pasts. Will Liya keep running, or will she finally give love a real chance?

— I had such high hopes for this one. Which is on me, I guess. Because I didn’t hate this one, but it was...not great. Maybe I’m just getting old and crotchety but I am BEGGING romance writers to come up with different trauma for their female protagonists. Not every woman has to have been assaulted to rationalize their current personality. Doesn’t have to happen. Like, ok, yes it does happen. Far more than it should. But that’s an entirely different story, and I am so tired of female characters getting absolutely destroyed by their past only to have that be their defining characteristic for so much of the book. Until a nice man they were initially mean to shows up and he’s UNDERSTANDING and he CARES and it’s just, bleh. It’s bleh. Tired and predictable and I’m over it.

IN WHICH I SHOULD HAVE LOOKED AT THE COVER

Much Ado About You by Samantha Young

At thirty-three-years old Evangeline Starling’s life in Chicago is missing that special something. And when she’s passed over for promotion at work, Evie realizes she needs to make a change. Some time away to regain perspective might be just the thing. In a burst of impulsivity, she plans a holiday in a quaint English village. The holiday package comes with a temporary position at Much Ado About Books, the bookstore located beneath her rental apartment. There’s no better dream vacation for the bookish Evie, a life-long Shakespeare lover. Not only is Evie swept up in running the delightful store as soon as she arrives, she’s drawn into the lives, loves and drama of the friendly villagers. Including Roane Robson, the charismatic and sexy farmer who tempts Evie every day with his friendly flirtations. Evie is determined to keep him at bay because a holiday romance can only end in heartbreak, right? But Evie can’t deny their connection and longs to trust in her handsome farmer that their whirlwind romance could turn in to the forever kind of love.

— Ok, so I had had this book on hold for so long that I genuinely forgot about it and forgot who it was written by. Samantha Young wrote that one book that I called the worst book I had ever read. Only I did not realize that when I started reading this one. So, you see how this sets us up for disaster. Because this book was a disaster. Everyone was goddamn annoying. And whiny. Shit, everyone whined. About everything. Also, the actual writing was atrocious. I am not usually one to be like “men can’t write,” but at one point I told both @shireness-says and @optomisticgirl that this book must have been secretly written by a man because no woman writing it would be so obsessed with pointing out where her cellulite was. Like, what??? Also the first sex scene? Oh my God, I laughed. Guffawed. The so-called love interest literally asked: “Are we going to have sex now?” And then they just did. It was so bad. Also there was a dog? Who went everywhere with the so-called love interest. And they just never explained that? I thought it was going to be part of some crushing and depressing backstory. Nah, he was just there.

HOLY SHIT THIS WAS SO DUMB I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS WAS A BOOK! A BOOK MEANT FOR YOUNG ADULTS! WHAT IS YOUNG ADULT???

The Queen’s Secret by Melissa de la Cruz

Lilac's birthright makes her the Queen of Renovia, and a forced marriage made her the Queen of Montrice. But being a ruler does not mean making the rules. For Lilac, taking the throne means giving up the opportunity to be with love of her life, the kingdom's assassin, Caledon Holt. Worse, Cale is forced to leave the castle when a horrific set of magical attacks threatens Lilac's sovereignty. Now Cal eand Lilac will have to battle dark forces separately, even though being together is the only thing that's ever saved them.

— Remember last month when I was like: can’t wait for my hold to come through on this sequel so I know what happens? What an idiot. THIS BOOK WAS SO DUMB I CANNOT BELIEVE IT WAS A BOOK. As always in my rage-induced rants, no apologies for spoilers because seriously do NOT read this, but Lilac (legit, that was her name) married some other dude but just kept fucking Cale??? Like she had a secret door? So he could come in and they could fuck?? I just—oh my God. So, all these things kept happening. Magic and bad stuff and horses were killed. Lilac’s mother was the absolute WORST. Honestly the most worthless character who at one point was like “well, my story is over, guess it’s time to leave,” and then just left?? Forced Lilac into a marriage of alliance and no love and then everything evil was defeated in point two four seconds. It happened so fast I wasn’t even sure it happened. So, then I’m like, ok, how are Lilac and Cale going to end up together? Because this is YA and that’s how it’s supposed to work. Only her being married and that marriage requiring an heir is something of a rather large hurdle. Don’t worry! Remember when Lilac and Cale were fucking? Everyone totally knew. Including the king Lilac is married to. Who is somehow like...ok with this? And tells Cale that Lilac is pregnant. ISN’T THAT WONDERFUL! Sure, because now they can lie and claim its the king’s heir. ONLY IT’S CALE’S KID! AND CALE IS COOL WITH THIS! His entire internal monologue during this is about how he realizes he might not ever be able to tell his kid he’s their father, but he’ll be around and that’s good. Wait, what??? But there’s more! Not only is Lilac having Cale’s kid, but the king she’s married to is in love with one of Cale’s spy associates. So the king and the spy are going to go hang out (and presumably have their own kids) at one castle and Lilac and Cale are going to go to another. Lilac and the king never get divorced or annulled or whatever. Everyone stays as is and married as is and—they all live happily ever after? This was presented as a good ending, I swear. What the shit, guys, seriously.

[narhinafan]

Debunking Haters Arguments

NaruHina only happend and Hinata made the heroine was cause she was popular.

This is actually wrong there are a total of 7 character polls and extra 1 in the third databook.

Now if you look at the results of the polls Hinata while she stays one of the more popular characters, actually loses out to Sakura in popularity more times then not. 

However her popularity has always increased after she is put in the spotlight you would expect for a heroine to have.  This means that Hinata didn’t become the heroine cause she was popular, but that she became popular cause she was put in the role of the heroine. 

Character Poll 1 Chapter 60

1st poll Sakura is ranked 5th while Hinata 10th now this is to be expected as Hinata along with the rest of the Konoha 12 weren’t introduced till chapter 39 only 20 or so chapters till the 1st character poll voting period ended. 

However however you can tell Hinata is one of the more popular characters and the reason for this is clearly cause Hinata introduction puts her in the role of the heroine, she likes Naruto the protagonist, wants to help him pass the test even though she could get in trouble while showing she cares about him. We also got her Dojutsu the Byakugan introduced.  

Character Poll 2 Chapter 107 

In the 2nd poll Hinata ranks 6 while Sakura 14th.

Now this poll’s voting period is during the preliminaries and Chunin exams where Hinata is further put into the role that you would expect a heroine to have.

First you have her cheering for Naruto during the Kiba fight where it reveals she has been watching and admiring Naruto for a long time. She understands him better then the other characters knowing how he was treated and that he was alone. Then when the fight is over she gives Naruto some ointment.

Now you have the Neji and Hinata fight where she is getting attacked emotionally by her evil cousin who is using her trauma against. We find out she was emotionally abused by her family and having gone through similar circumstances as Naruto being hated for treated as a failure for somthing that wasn’t her fault. 

Then Naruto cheers her on inspiring her. Hinata stood up with the same determination and guts Naruto has always shown and even sharing his nindo. She fights till she starts coughing up blood and even almost dies not giving up till the end just like our boy Naruto.

She loses and the hero is one of the first to rush to her side and is shown to care about her quite a bit. Not willing to let Neji insult her efforts Naruto swears a blood oath to beat him for Hinata.

Next we have the proud failure speech, this is the first time Naruto has shown us his weak side and it is not to his team or Iruka, but Hinata who he opened up to. He opens up to her in a way he has never done before and she shows just how much she understands him and restores his confidence just like how watching Naruto always did for her Hinata returns the favour. 

Feeling touched Naruto leaves saying he likes girls like her and goes on to beat Neji fulfilling his promise reforming Neji and the rest of Hinata’s family in process and wonders if Hinata was watching.

Now thinking about we have her cheering him on and understanding him better then anyone else, her getting cheered on and inspired by him, him swearing to avenge her, she restores his lost confidence and then goes on to keep his oath and beat the bad guy reforming him.

No matter how you look at it the whole the whole interaction between Naruto and Hinata during this voting period screams she is the heroine. It is no wonder she ranked so high when she is basically Naruto’s motivation to beat his current rival/ antagonist during these arcs and perfectly fills the role of a heroine. 

Character Poll 3 Chapter 151 

3rd poll Hinata keeps her position at 6th place and Sakura goes to 9th place. Neither of which really show up in much during this voting period. 

Character Poll 4 Chapter 199 

4th poll Hinata’s drops to 12 place while Sakura moves up to 10th, with Sakura taking back the lead. Though this is to be expected as Hinata shows up like once during this voting period and doesn’t do much. As where Sakura is looking after Sasuke, crying for him not to leave and makes Naruto promise to bring him back.  

Character Poll 5 Chapter 245 

5th poll voting period ends at the start of part 2. Hinata is in 9th place while Sakura 8th both of them not having any real scenes or doing anything besides Sakura asking Tsunade to teach her and Hinata seeing Naruto off.

Character Poll 6 Chapter 292 

6th poll Sakura and Hinata are still close to each other 12th and 13th place. During this voting period Sakura gets many more moments along with some new competition as new characters are introduced.  

Databook 3 Character Poll  chapters 245 to 402

The databook poll Sakura is 6th, while Hinata is maintain 11th this isn’t much surprise as for the last few voting periods Hinata hasn’t had many scenes or did much while Sakura has.

Character Poll 7 Chapter chapter 531 

Now for the last and 7th poll Hinata once again surpasses Sakura taking 10th place while Sakura is in 12th place. 

Now as you can see this voting period includes the Pain invasion arc where Hinata is once more thrust into the role of heroine where she tries to save Naruto who is about to be captured and facing certain doom as well as confesses to him.

This leads to Naruto breaking the nine tails seal, but despite him going berserk Hinata who was at ground zero is perfectly fine as Naruto avoids her and even has a moment where he looks at her in his enraged state before going to fight Pain. Once he comes to his senses he also cries tears and clutches  his heart when he finds out Hinata is alright. 

This is once more classic heroine moments, the hero is in danger, said heroine goes to save him, confesses to him gets hurt resulting in the hero powering up while losing his reasoning. Despite that the heroine is completely unharmed by the hero. Like seriously we have common cliches that are used for heroines here so it is no wonder Hinata’s popularity raises when she is put into the the role of the heroine.

Conclusion 

Hinata didn’t become the heroine nor ended up with Naruto cause she was popular, but that she became popular cause she was put into the heroine role.

Out of the 8 polls we had during the series Sakura beats Hinata 5 times, while Hinata only beats Sakura 3 times. Now when you look at what happens and what arcs are in the voting period you can clearly see that Hinata’s popularity raises during these polls cause she is fulfilling the heroine roll in them. 

Sakura ranks higher then Hinata in most of the polls so it makes no sense to say that NaruHina only happend cause Hinata was popular when the reason she became popular was cause she was given the heroine spotlight. This means popularity didn’t affect Kishimoto putting Hinata in the heroine role or getting her with Naruto otherwise by popularity Sakura should have gotten with Naruto.

[arcadianmoonshadowjedi]

Cass Season 3 Analysis (And Criticism)

I’ve previously done an analysis post on what I thought about Cass’s S1 arc and ideally would’ve done a season 2 analysis post (my personal favorite Cass arc in the whole show) but since my thoughts on S3 are on my mind atm, thought I’d dump them here.

Note: If you would prefer not to see any criticism on season’s 3′s writing, I’d suggest you don’t further read.

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a hate post as Cass is one of my favorite characters (Discussion is welcome but would really appreciate that my criticism isn’t used as a fuel for hatred against the character). Thanks!

I’ll start with the Gothel reveal. Personally my feelings towards it initially were very mixed, perhaps because I was never to interested in it when it was still a theory and thought it was a coincidence that Cass physically resembled Gothel. A part of me felt that the Gothel twist was too cliche, generic and it failed to wow me. I was basically like “Oh! So... this is the direction they’re going with? Ok... lemme see where this is going...” Then another part of me was like Cass dealt with a lot of issues of feeling like she’s not good enough, not taken seriously, or that she was outshined by Rapunzel since S1, so maybe the Gothel reveal was just the last straw that pushed her into villainy but not necessarily her primary motive (Or at least I wanted to believe that).

Basically we didn’t see too much of Cass in the first half of S3 aka the fillers, except her being pushed more and more into villainy by Zhan Tiri in the last few minutes of the episodes. I personally thought that the manipulative aspect was really cool! (Reminded me a lot of Anakin and Palpatine vibes from Star Wars, which is also a franchise I dearly love).

Then of course we approach the Cassandra’s Revenge, also my personal favorite episode of the season, where now Cass is full-on villain, no question, no doubts. Honestly Eden nailed the VA and Cass was totally owning and rocking her villainy! I loved that continued to rock her villainy into Race to the Spire too!

And now the negativity starts. A Tale of Two Sisters.... In all honesty I was enjoying the episode until I got to the ending, and then I finished off the episode feeling so disgusted. I personally wasn’t fond of the whole Gothel loving Cass or not “mystery” because the answer was pretty obvious. It just felt so weird that Cass knew of Gothel’s abuse towards her and Rapunzel and saw with her own eyes that Gothel deliberately abandoned her as a child, but was still convinced that Gothel “loved” her, like seriously?! And I’m not even gonna go into how much I hated the ending because it’s way too obvious.

Once A Handmaiden, very unfortunately, is my very least episode of the season. Like it had some good moments in it but all in all I hate so many aspects of it. First we start with Cass walking out and smiling and then she finds the missing mirror shard. Mystery solved. Cass now realizes Gothel never loved her and then finds out that her “friend” is Zhan Tiri and she runs off. Now she’s good and needs to “make amends” Rapunzel. My biggest problem with this episode treated the problem as if Cass and Raps got into a small fight and need to make up. But this is waaaaay bigger than that. Cassandra had done awful things including murder attempts, kidnapping, and threatening war against Corona. She needed to do more than seek Rapunzel’s forgiveness, she needed to clean up the mess she’s made, especially ZT getting released and all. She needed to accept accountability for her actions, regardless of what the consequences were. She gets incased in the amber, boom! Now she’s full on villain again because she’s angry about a weapon made for self-defense purposes that she had led to. Of course the number one scene I hated in this episode was the Gothel quote (my least favorite movie reference of all time and my least favorite Cass scene in the entire series). She destroys all of Corona and forces everyone to flee.

Last but not least, her “redemption” in Plus Est En Vous. As someone who completely adores Cass, I wanted to see her being given the best possible redemption that she deserved to have written for her. But unfortunately, in this episode, we see her being full villain and was gladly stripping Rapunzel of the sundrop only for Zhan Tiri to overpower her. As @zhantiri mentioned (And completely read my mind lol), she didn’t redeem herself because she saw the wrong in her actions, but rather because she was overpowered by a bigger villain. Questions I’ve always had since the finale were “What if she got the power of the sundrop too and survived? Would she have been redeemable then? What would she have done with that power?” See the problem is that to me, her redemption didn’t feel sincere or as impactful as it should have been. Like sure I cried when she cried but primarily because Eden nailed the VA, but idk.

So my here are my overall criticisms of her villainy:

1) A lot of things in her villain arc felt so OOC, like the fact that she instantly trusted a random ghost child she met in the House of Yesterday’s and follows her around for months not questioning who she is, even after the midseason when she was in her corporeal form. Like since when was Cass so quick to trust anyone? In the past 2 seasons, we all saw how Cass took time to trust Eugene, Lance, and Adira, and how she was so skeptical of new places. I will just never understand how she instantly trusted a ghost child over her closest friends whom she’s known for about 2 years...

2) Building off of her being OOC, I absolutely despised how she was being turned into Gothel 2.0 rather than being her own character! She was so well set up the last two seasons and now is being forcefully turned into Gothel, because ya know “Like mother like daughter right”? My biggest problem with this is that Cass in the past 2 seasons is hardly anything like Gothel in character. Like sure she does have flaws and certain toxic traits, but she was way too hotheaded and insecure compared to Gothel. And the cloak in To2S, sure it looked cool but was so stupid and unnecessary. And I’m not gonna go into the other details to avoid being further infuriated. I know there’s controversies over the movie reference in Plus Est En Vous but here are my honest thoughts. The problem with Cass’s death scene was not only do we have absolutely no idea why she died but it was for the sake of tossing in a movie reference. It basically took Eugene’s iconic sacrifice scene from the movie and handed it to Cass, which I felt was incredibly unfair to both characters. It was Eugene’s special scene which should’ve been his and his alone. Cass deserved to be given her own special scenes instead of being given Gothel and Eugene’s scenes. I personally felt that she was being robbed and it was as if she couldn’t be great as her own character and needs to be handed other characters’ special scene in order to be so.

3) The motive, regardless of whether the Gothel twist was used or not, there needed to be strong and clear motive as to why she would make the complete change to villainy. And getting revenge against Rapunzel because she victim-blamed her for being left by Gothel is not a motive! There were several other aspects of her character that could’ve been focused on that would’ve worked waaay better and could’ve been more been more legitimate reasons for her to become a villain, otherwise it was just entirely forced.

4) Last but not least... the lack of consistency with her villain arc in the last few episodes was so irritating to watch! I personally think she needed a proper redemption arc during the last few episodes were she was seeing the wrong in her actions and worked to correct her mess rather than waffling back and forth between redemption and villainy only to become more evil than before! Her villain arc became waaaay too sloppy and it overstayed it welcome till the finale to the point where it was no longer enjoyable to watch.

All in all, Cass’s villain arc is not my only problem with season 3 nor is it my biggest one. But still, I really wanted to like it. Sure there were some great aspects about it but unfortunately it was mostly badly written and sloppily handled, showing that there was no solid or proper planning for it. As for the Gothel twist, my feelings about it became more negative because of how it was handled and I really wished they could’ve come up with something else to push her into villainy. For me, this was actually quite painful and sad because Cass grew to be my favorite series exclusive character and my favorite along with Rapunzel and Eugene because I loved how she was written in the first two seasons, but I feel like season 3 did her pretty dirty.

Update!: I added the link to my Cass S1 analysis at the top but didnt't know why it's not showing so Imma attach it here!

[simple-heroics]

Snowy Nights in Tokyo

Part 1 of the “Let Me Take Care of You” mini-series Fuyumi Todoroki X fem!Reader (alternating between she/her and they/them pronouns) Word count: 11,919 someone stop me

Not to get too gay on main but @floof-reppu​ opened my eyes with their Fuyumi fic. Which inspired some assertive!Fuyumi. Everyone say thank you to her for helping me the NSFW scene. It’s my first one and tbh I still have a lot to learn in writing smut but here it is.

Me being me, I’ve also gone overboard and now have to make a mini-series for Fuyumi. I don’t even care that I won’t get a lot of notes for this. It just...feels like I need to write it, you know?

Anyway, this is dedicated to all the eldest daughters in the world who have had to take care of everybody but themselves. 

Content warning: Hyper vigilance, alcohol, references to drunk adults, references to high stress work environments, mild Quirk play (not previously negotiated), brief orgasm denial, possible naked book clubs, and VERY consensual sex between two sober adults. Emotional, intense topics brought up before, during, and after sex. It gets heavy, y’all. And a little awkward because surprise, surprise. Sex with a virtual stranger isn’t always all that sexy.

“To y/l/n - for kicking ass and finally taking a night off!” Your friend toasts you. Similar cheers echo her as shot glasses clink together.

Rolling your eyes, you throw your head back and take your shot. You are well-acquainted with burns but the shochu is an unfamiliar one in the back of your throat, making you cough. Your old schoolmates laugh, jokingly asking you when you last actually drank. A second later, you remember to laugh with them. The sound scratches itself out of your throat, hoarse from the recent burn of liquor. 

It feels...off.

Even if you weren’t on shift, even if you were having fun with friends and tossing back a couple of well-deserved drinks, you couldn’t help being hyper aware of everyone in the room: The group of salary men, somber when they first arrived, now laughing hysterically. Some girls’ night out, tipsy women giggling over cocktails. Random tourists in the back going nuts over sake bombs. You watch it all on the mirrored wall behind your friends. 

Eventually, your eyes wander to your unsmiling reflection next to your friends and realize… You look older than them. Your friends glow with this vibrancy, this carelessness, that made them feel younger to you. You listen to them talk - about classes, about apartment hunting in Tokyo and midnight convenience store runs, about dating. A whole different life than the one you live now. You’re the same age as them, have known some since high school, but you somehow feel ten years older. A part of you always feared your friend group growing apart as you all got older. But you never expected you would be the one to age so quickly ahead of them. There is too much weighing on your mind, too much you’d seen. 

You close your eyes and the images are vivid on the back of your eyelids. The memories sweep over you, drowning out the surrounding laughter and clinking drinks. Phantosmia clogs your senses like smoke. The taste of ash soots the back of your tongue.

“Seriously, though. It’s been forever!” one of them exclaims.

You jerk back to the present, blinking. 

“Does your new boss own you or something?”

You stiffen.

Another friend nudges her, shooting her a reproachful look. 

“I actually don’t see him that often,” you say, tone sharp. You don’t want to kill the mood, not when it’s been so long since you’d seen any of them, so you try to lighten it. “He’s busier than I am.”

There are few people you respect as much as your boss. It’s a privilege to work under someone with so much experience and skill. You worked your ass off for years before you became qualified to even apply, and that was only the beginning. If you couldn’t keep up with the team, you weren’t needed. Too many lives at stake. The only person held to higher standards were the ones your boss set for himself.

“Right, right,” says the friend who made the sarcastic joke. “And we’re grateful to him, really. But...”

“But we really do miss seeing you, y/l/n,” another chimes in, sincere. 

Your best friend intervenes. “Besides, he’s not all bad if he let you and that cute coworker of yours off for the night. Speaking of…”

Knowing what they’re getting at, you check your phone. “She says she got caught up in...something.”

“Really? Even the salary men over there are taking a break.”

Your table looks over to see the middle-aged men, completely sloshed, start their own improv karaoke. Your friends immediately crack up and imitate the off-key singing.

While you laugh with them, a part of you itches. You think of your coworker and the ongoing case.  It feels strange, almost wrong, to be joking with your old schoolmates and making fun of drunk salary men while they were risking their lives.

Maybe you are becoming something of a workaholic, you privately admit. But it’s good work, important work. You help so many people everyday. You love your job. 

But what’s the point of if you don’t have someone of your own to protect? a voice whispers, the same quiet voice that speaks up when you leave the bunks for your own lonely apartment. 

Now’s a good time for another drink.

Ignoring the teasing requests for another round from your friends (“C’mon, y/n, we know you’re getting paid more~!”), you slide through the small crowds until you find an open space at the bar. The bartender’s swamped with orders piling in from a sprawl of college boys. Some sports team, you think as you subconsciously size them up, too rowdy to be an academic club. Harmless but stupid.

Still, you watch them from the corner of your eye. 

“Could I get the matcha highball, please?” 

Her voice should have been too soft to hear in the loud bar but somehow it rings out clear as a bell. Everything slows down. Your eyes widen, snapping to look at her.

At about average height, she stands out among the bar patrons in her modest white blazer and high-waisted jeans. Her soft-looking hair is white like the snow outside, vermillion streaks ribboned throughout the light strands. She shifts from foot to foot, full hips swaying with the motion.

You stare.

“Oops~”

You snatch the college boy’s wrist before he could “spill” his drink after he purposely bumbled over. The boy (really, he could only be a year or two younger than you) jolts, gawking at you.

With a stony expression, you look him dead in the eye. “Careful.”

“Oh!” The woman startles at the sudden commotion. She turns and you still.

Her face is cuter than you’d imagined it: a pert nose, soft jawline, and pretty pink lips that look like they’re made for things like smiling and laughter and other nice, soft things. Large, bright eyes like a winter sky framed by glossy eyelashes blink at you behind glasses. 

The entire world around you just...freezes. The only conscious thought you can think is her, her, her, her. The inner mantra matches the tempo of your heartbeat.

“Uuh...hey?” the college boy speaks up. You realize that you haven’t let go of his wrist - oblivious to his attempts at pulling away from her vice grip. And that you’ve forgotten to breathe.

Feeling your face turn warmer than usual, you swiftly look away from her. It’s pure autopilot that allows you to say, “Be a little more careful. We don’t want any ‘accidents’.”

Driving your point home, you squeeze just a little - a silent show of your strength - before abruptly letting go. He stumbles back slightly, nearly bumping into another person, and stutters, “Y-yeah, whatever. Sorry.” 

Partially to avoid contact with pretty turquoise eyes and also to drive the intimidation home, you stare after him stoically until he disappears. 

“Thank you.” 

You take an extra second to breathe, willing the concerning heat in your face - and the rest of your body - to lower before you face her. 

Then she smiles at you.

The heat returns tenfold. Damn.

Light-headed, you quickly realize she isn’t merely cute. This stranger was so stunning that she knocked the air out of your lungs with just a look.

“No problem,” you croak.

The bartender saves your life. “Matcha highball!” 

You have exactly 5 seconds to breathe and get your shit together while she gets her drink. You flounder for something, anything, to say. You could bench press the bar counter itself but you can’t talk to a random (beautiful, alluring, breath-taking) woman at said bar counter. But would that be weird? Would that make you no better than the creep deliberately spilling drinks on people? 

Drink in hand, she turns back around and smiles again. It’s just as debilitating the second time around. Your knees weaken. “Thanks again.”

“You come here often?” you blurt out. And promptly wanted to blast yourself. 

You expect her to lift a dainty eyebrow and walk away, pretending your existence never happened, but instead she honestly answers your terrible cliche. “No, not really. I’m...usually at home around this time. But some work friends told me I couldn’t skip out on happy hour again.” 

Given her the simple sincerity of her answer and the way she completely missed the near “spill”, you deduce that she doesn’t come to bars often or at least doesn’t have much experience with the nightlife. You almost want to ask what a (beautiful, damn near ethereal) girl like her is doing in a place like this but thankfully quash the impulse.

“Me, too,” you say quickly, straight-faced. “Except they’re not so much work friends. More like actual friends. Not that friends from work can’t be actual friends but they’re my friends outside of work. Except I haven’t seen them in a while. Because I work. A lot. Not that I’m a workaholic or anything. It’s just an intense job. But I’m not intense. Well, kinda. Some people say I can be. Only because it’s important - the job, not me. Um. Not in like a self-deprecating way but like in a self-important way - which I’m not. Or I try not to be. I just care about people which is kinda a requirement for my job. Mostly. Or at least it should be. Some people, you know? And I’ll just stop talking now.”

It’s a wonder steam doesn’t hiss out of your ears with how hot your still stoic face is. You almost wish a villain would tear through the bar and knock you against the wall right. Now. Damn it, y/n.

Yet miracle of miracles, her polite smile slowly widens into an amused one - and one of those genuinely nice ones, without so much as a trace of mockery. “It’s like that with my job, too.”

How is she still here after that? And was she really...making conversation? 

You swallow and try not to seem overeager when you ask, “What do you do?”

Her face lights up. “I’m a teacher.” 

You can’t help the rare, almost timid smile that wobbles onto your lips. A teacher. Of course the angelic-looking woman is also a sweetheart with a sweet job. God, that sounds so precious. “Yeah? What grade?”

“Third.” Thinking about her class, her smile broadens. Your first impression was dead on: her face was made for smiles. 

“Third grade…” you repeat. Not just a teacher, an elementary school teacher. No wonder she seems so - wholesome? Patient? Kind? You damn near melt at the mental image of her working with little kids. 

She tilts her head, bangs moving with the cute motion. You try not to get distracted. “What about you?”

“I - “ You hesitate. It always feels weird when you tell people your vocation, almost like you were bragging. Besides that, another part of you - the increasingly paranoid, always on guard part - is cautious.  “I’m a civil servant. Public safety.”

She makes a small noise of interest. “That does sound intense.”

“It has its days. But your job is probably a lot harder.”

Something in her eyes flashes. “You think so?”

“Mm.” You nod. “Teachers have to take on a lot, right? You’re not just teaching kids - as if that’s not a big enough responsibility, teaching the next generation. You’re also their counselors, social workers, referees, lawyers, motivational coaches. Sometimes even surrogate parents.” 

Her expression softens into something more thoughtful. “Yeah… Yeah, sometimes.”

Whereas before you were hyper aware of everything, now your entire attention is narrowed in on her. It’s the first time in a long time you weren’t subconsciously counting every head in the room or checking for emergency exits. And she’s quiet, considering you. The two of you spend an unusually long time analyzing each other.

She licks her lips. You try to keep eye contact but can’t help yourself, gaze flickering at the deft movement.

“My name’s Todoroki. Todoroki Fuyumi.” 

You briefly linger on her familiar but common family name before zeroing in on her given name, Fuyumi. Fuyumi. As in winter beauty. You inwardly applaud whoever chose her name; they had the right idea.

You bow politely. “Nice to meet you, Todoroki-sensei.” 

She laughs a little, cheeks flushing pretty and pink. Her returning bow is shorter, a little awkward with a drink in her hand. “Please, you don’t have to call me sensei. I’m off the clock.”

“What should I call you then?”

“How about…” She seems to internally debate this. “Fuyumi? We’re about the same age and besides, hardly anybody calls me Todoroki outside of work.”

“Fuyumi-san…” Your lips naturally curl upward while saying her name.

Her eyes flicker away and back, catching your own. “And yours…?”

“Y/l/n y/n. But y/n is fine,” you say, an almost lie. No one but your closest and dearest call you by your given name. But you can make an exception for this stranger at the bar, for Fuyumi. A small, greedy part of you simply wants to hear your given name in her voice, see how those pretty lips move around it. And besides...

Something tells you it won’t be long before you can count her in the small, tight-knit circle anyway.

“Nice to meet you as well. Please take care of me.”

“Of course.” You pause, realizing what you just said. “Uh…

Her rosy cheeks brighten but she’s still smiling, still looking at you with those bright eyes. “Can I get you a drink, y/n-san?”

Yeah, your name definitely sounds good - really good - coming from her. Almost as good as her own name feels on your tongue.

“I’d love that, Fuyumi-san.”

Another kneecap-shattering smile is sent your way.

Cool it down, y/n. Cool it. Down. You tug on your collar to alleviate the growing heat under it.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

Despite their earlier hassling over you not spending enough with them, your friends are more than okay with you (temporarily, you insisted, lying to them and yourself) ditching them to talk to someone new. They seem almost more excited than you are -- “almost” being the operative word. You feel like you’d been hit by someone’s electric Quirk, and the feeling persists the longer you talk to Fuyumi.

You find a little two-seat table near one of the windows of the bar. It offers you both an open view of Tokyo, bright and alive in the dark winter night, where flurries of snow roll through the neon-lit streets. A nice sight, you’re sure, but you’re all but ignorant to it in front of Fuyumi who sits across from you. White blazer draped over the back of her chair, she wears a form-fitting black turtleneck. A simple gold band glints on her wrist as she fiddles with her glass, tracing the rim with an elegant finger. You notice that despite having gotten her drink sooner, the ice cubes remain perfectly intact while your own drink is now a watered down version of your original order.

Not that either of you are really drinking, consumed in conversation - in learning each other. 

You learn that Fuyumi is 22 years old. Less than a year ago, she completed her bachelor’s in elementary education at Showa Women’s University. This is her first year teaching, and she loves it. She adores her class. You listen attentively as she talks with her hands and a brilliant smile, describing one shy student’s increasing confidence and another’s improved reading score. You learn that your earlier deduction was correct: she isn’t much of a nightlife person, preferring smaller get-togethers and home-cooked meals. You learn that she loves the weather outside, attention sometimes drifting to the falling snow outside. You learn that she loves to read but is weak to the same soap operas you are. You learn that she’s kind and smart and passionate.

And that if you look directly at her for too long, you forget how to breathe. 

Your conversation delves deeper. You both talk about your work, how a passion for helping people brought you to your chosen professions and how it's that very passion that sustains you through the hard parts. You talk about the constant paperwork, tracking every incident and expense and flickering concern, in order to protect the people you look after and yourselves. Fuyumi quietly expresses her frustrations with the Ministry of Education, the intense focus on academics and Quirk development, and how she can already see the pressure on her young (too young) students. Expression grave, you tell her about the moral concerns in your job, how people - people who have it hard, people who are just having a bad day - are practically dehumanized for their mistakes and how your colleagues treat even milder, non-violent cases like they’re scum of the earth. 

You and Fuyumi both lament over the bureaucracies that get in the way of actually doing your jobs. You talk about what it’s like to be in that weird “in-between” age, feeling too old around people your own age who don’t have the responsibilities which your jobs demand yet so young - naive - next to most of your colleagues. Compassion fatigue is common in both your fields, you find. It’s just as fulfilling as it is utterly exhausting, taking care of people. You talk about how tiring it is to work for the public, how underappreciated you sometimes feel, how helpless some cases are. 

“And then after all that, coming home at the end of the day can just be so…” Fuyumi cuts herself off, covering her mouth.

“Draining,” you finish, solemn.

She slowly lowers her hand, turquoise eyes wide and serious behind her glasses. “...yeah.”

You tap the edge of your cocktail glass, contemplative. You hesitate before saying, “Sometimes it’s hard seeing people I really care about…after taking care of people all day. I know my loved ones need me, too, and I want to be there for them. But sometimes it’s too much on top of everything else. Somedays...I feel too tired to care and caring’s the whole reason I even got into this job.”

You didn’t realize how true this was until you said it. It’s an ugly truth, hideous as it lingers in the air, but the truth nonetheless. You wonder if this is the real reason you don’t go out with your friends anymore, why you rarely saw your family as of late. 

You also wonder about the intent look Fuyumi wore. Intelligent blue eyes meet yours behind rectangular frames and you can’t bring yourself to look away. You don’t know how long you two stared at each other, only that you’d stopped breathing entirely.

Pop!

“Aaaayyy!” 

You shoot up and whip around, physically blocking Fuyumi - an automatic shield. Your hand goes to your waist and of course - of course you aren’t wearing your tactical belt. You’re off duty.

You start to activate your Quirk, let it hum unseen but ready under your hot skin. Off duty but still - .

But still, it was just the crazy salary men anyway. All drunk off their asses. One of them bought champagne, hence the pop. The man must be in his forties yet there he is, drinking straight from the bottle. The college athletes nearby start to chant and soon the rest of the bar is joining in. Somewhere, you hear your friends (the hooligans) cheering among them.

A gentle hand touches your arm, cool fingertips pressing against your wrist. Her touch sends off an immediate spark at first contact.

Electric Quirk?

Turning around, Fuyumi’s face is gentle but her eyes burn with an unexplained fervency. It kindles something in your stomach, makes you swallow. 

“Let’s go outside for a bit. Get you some fresh air.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

With the din of the bar behind you, you exhale and watch your breath condensate in the cold night air. It’s quieter here. Only a few other bar patrons mill about, one smoking several feet away and others waiting for a rideshare. The warmth from nearly activating your Quirk slowly seeps out enough to bring you back to a safer, more civilian-appropriate temperature but it’s still enough to keep you warm in your simple leather jacket.

You glance at Fuyumi. The falling snowflakes surround her like a vision, bright against the dark of turtleneck but blending in with her hair. “Aren’t you cold?”

She smiles, pushing her glasses up. “I’m fine.”

“Quirk thing?” you guess wryly, curious but also avoiding directly asking about her Quirk. It’s fine as a kid but as people get older, outright asking people about their Quirks is something of a social taboo. It would be more polite to ask what her bank statement said.

“Something like that. What about you? Are you cold or is it a ‘Quirk thing’?” When she speaks, you notice that her breath doesn’t come out in a misty cloud. Trained to automatically identify hints of what a person’s Quirk could be, you pick this out. Ice Quirk then, maybe snow? It suits the winter beauty.

The corner of your mouth twitches. You tuck your hands in your jacket pockets and lean against the building behind you.  “Something like that.”

You both stand in companionable silence. It’s easier to breathe outside with the city lights to distract you, though you sneak occasional glances at the way the blue and red neon lights reflect off Fuyumi’s snowy hair. The red streaks glow burgundy under the lighting.

“About what you said earlier…”

You say nothing now, simply pressing your lips together and staring obstinately at a distant flashing billboard: First a soda commercial, then some car insurance ad. You glance away when you see an ad for Burning Coffee and the familiar face with it.

“I get it.”

Schooling your expression into a neutral one, you look at her from the corner of your eyes. 

Fuyumi tucks a stark white strand behind her ear. You try not to get distracted by the way she bites her lip. “Even before I started this job, I…I have two younger brothers. I love them a lot but it's - I…. I’ve had to take care of them for a long time now.”

You mull over this for a moment. “Because someone had to, huh?”

“Someone has to.”

You nod slowly. “Caring for other people is why humans are here but it’s hard. There are limits.”

“Yeah, there are...” That intense light in her eyes appears again. “But someone has to care, even when it’s hard. Someone has to bring people together.”

What about your parents? You want to ask, want to know who left her alone with such a heavy responsibility when she was so young. Something dark simmers in your stomach at the thought of a small Fuyumi burdened with the care of two little brothers while a child herself. But you bite your tongue. 

Instead: “Who takes care of you?”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Who takes care of Todoroki Fuyumi?” 

“Who… I - “ Her face is pink from the cold, you vaguely notice. Which is odd, if your hunch about her Quirk is right. “I... My brother does. The older one, Natsuo. He…” 

You realize too late that you’re raising your eyebrows, high and skeptical in your otherwise neutral countenance. 

“People care,” she finishes lamely. At your unimpressed stare, she turns her head away. The gesture is as bashful as it is stubborn.

“...there’s a difference between caring for someone and taking care of them,” you say softly.

Lifting her face, Fuyumi meets your gaze. You step closer without breaking eye contact. Her lips part, and you’re undeniably staring now - more than staring. You’re leaning closer, into her space, and she tilts her head back.

“Te ni shitai hikari ga aru kiiiimiii wa ima yorube mo naku hitori de kiro niiii tatsu~”

You both jerk away.

“Sorry,” Fuyumi mutters, covering her mouth. You catch a pink flush before she turns her head away. 

Clearing your throat, you fumble for your cell. “No, my bad. Uuuh, hold on. Lemme just turn it off.”

Even saying that, you habitually check the caller ID and immediately turn serious. You look at her apologetically. “It’s work.”

Still pink-faced and cute, Fuyumi waves a hand. “It’s fine!”

“One sec…” Praying it’s not an emergency but prepared nonetheless, you answer brusquely, “Talk to me.”

“Woah, there, y/l/n. No need to sound so serious. You’re off the clock, remember?”

“Are you?” you retort.

“Yeah, just got off and on my way. Your friends still there or you guys get bored waiting for me? ‘Cause I also know this one place in Shinjuku with some cute girls who maaay bat for our team if yanno what I - “

You nearly choke on your own spit. “Uuh, no. No, that’s not necessary.”

“Y/l/n, you need to get laid. Like, I’m pretty sure boss man gets more than you and - “

“Hey!” You cover the receiver, as though fearful Fuyumi would hear about your sad (lack of a) sex life. Also you never want to hear anyone talk about your boss like that. It’s worse than if someone were to bring up your father in that way. You shudder at the thought. “I do not want to think about that. Do not put those images in my head!”

Your coworker cackles. “Then get out and get some! Pretty sure with the overtime you pull, you got some cobwebs down there.”

“I will report you to HR,” you warn, too low for Fuyumi to hear.

“See? This is why he hired you. He needed a bigger wet blanket than him in the office to make him look chill in comparison.”

Ha. Your boss. Chill. Even you can privately admit that’s a good one.

“Then he owes me a raise,” you grumble. After some thought, you also add, “...besides, Shinjuku isn’t necessary.”

“Wait. You met somebody?!”

Hyper aware of a pair of pretty blues on you, you choose your words carefully. “We just received word from Team Lambda that things were...unexpectedly successful.”

“SHIT IS SHE WITH YOU NOW! Why are you still talking to me?!”

“Do you still require back up at the agreed location?”

“Pffft. Y/l/n, you dork. Nah, I’m good. I’ll swing by for a drink and say hi to your cute friend but you do who you gotta do.”

You clear your throat. “I’ll do my best.”

“Damn right you will. With how diligent you are, you’re bound to be a good lay.”

“I do have HR’s number saved on my phone,” you deadpan.

“Of course you do, you stick-in-the-mud. Now get off the phone and talk to your girl!”

Even when she abruptly hangs up on you, you can’t help the sudden grin while you silence your cell. Your girl.

That has a nice ring to it.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself.

“Is everything okay?” Fuyumi asks, tipping her head. She looks at you with such concern your heart flutters. “You sounded real serious.”

Your voice comes out half-strangled and high-pitched. “Fine. Ahem. Everything’s fine. My coworker was just checking in. We were supposed to meet up and, uh…”

“Oh.”  Fuyumi lowers her eyes. She adjusts her purse over a dainty shoulder. “My coworkers are probably waiting for me, too. We should…”

No!

“Something came up,” you say quickly.

She pauses mid-step.

“Do you want another drink?”

 “I think I’ve had enough to drink,” she admits.

 “Oh…” You visibly deflate despite your attempts at keeping up a nonchalant demeanor. “I...I understand.”

 “...didn’t you come here with your friends?”

 “I met someone,” you say bluntly. You pin her with a look, one that sears through Fuyumi and says ‘you’. “They’ll understand.”

 That pretty blush returns tenfold, rising in her cheeks and spreading all the way down her neck. You want nothing more than to discover where else it goes. “Oh.”

 You tuck your hands in your pocket to hide how they shake, try to relax your body but even you can feel the intensity in your own gaze. “And your coworkers?”

 “They’ll understand, too…” She fiddles with her purse’s strap, shifts her weight from foot to foot. Again, her hips sway with the motion and you start to wonder if there’s anything Fuyumi could do that wouldn’t attract you. “But I still think I’m ready to leave this bar.”

 “Just this bar?” You peer at her from under your eyelashes.

 If just looking at her wrecks your breathing, the way she bites her bottom lip will be your absolute end. “Just this bar,” she confirms quietly. 

 “Hm.” You step forward, edging closer but just shy of her personal space - maintaining a respectful distance but near enough to feel the energy passing between you two, the intense and immediate chemistry. It’s strange and unfamiliar and gravitational. 

 Fuyumi stands completely still but she’s tighter, tenser, with a white-knuckled grip on her bag and fair skin brightening to new shades of red. There’s a light in her eyes that keeps drawing you in, like a moth to a blue flame. They dart heatedly between your own darkening gaze and your mouth.

 “Do you have plans for the rest of your night, Fuyumi-san?” Maybe at least a dinner, you hope, somewhere warm and cozy and private. Something you think she would like.

 She shakes her head, blushing yet unhesitant. 

 You swear you can feel your own heartbeat in your throat. “Any younger brothers to take care of tonight?”

 After some deliberation, she says, “They’re 19 and 15. I think they’ll survive one night without me.”

 “Yeah?” you ask breathlessly.

 “Yeah,” she says, just as quiet, and she just...looks at you. Really looks at you.

 Then she steps closer and suddenly she’s right in front of you. A cloud of vanilla-and-jasmine fragrance surrounds you. You do nothing, say nothing, simply let her come to you. You watch her with a deliberately calm mien. Fuyumi lifts up a delicate hand and brushes through your hair. A whirl of snowflakes scatters around you.

She sees you shiver and whispers, “You’re going to catch a cold out here.”

Her hand lingers in your hair. The touch is light but it’s like being connected to a live wire. A second more passes. Then her hand flutters back to her side. 

“Then I guess we should find some place warmer.” 

“Y/n-san…” 

“Let me…” Let me call you a rideshare. Let me walk you home. Let me take you home. Please. Just let me stay with you a little longer. You swallow all those other words, better words, and come out with, “Let me take care of you.”

Those impossible blue eyes widen. “What?”

Face much warmer than you’re used to off-duty and braver in ways you’ve never had to be before, you ask her softly, near pleading, “Can I take care of you tonight, Fuyumi-san?”

Fuyumi’s lips part. Then slowly, shyly, they curl into that heartbreakingly beautiful smile. “Okay.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

You nearly trip over a chair on your way over to your friends’ table. 

“Aaww, did you strike out?” your best friend teases you.

You let out a shaky laugh, pushing your hair back. “Actually, I came to say bye real quick.”

This earns you a chorus of jeers and whistles around the table. 

“That’s my teammate!” a familiar voice crows behind you. You catch tendrils of green flames from the corner of your eye before you see her.

“Kamiji!” 

Kamiji moves easily between the tables, as graceful as a cat and grinning like one, too. “What are you still doing here?” she teases while pulling you into a side hug. “Didn’t I tell you to clean out some cobwebs?”

You add a little heat to your embrace - enough that would have made anyone else flinch away but with Kamiji, with anyone in the Flaming Sidekicks, it’s more like a playful punch. “I’m calling HR on Monday.”

“They’ll be the only ones you’ll be calling if you don’t catch up with your girl,” Kamiji retorts, nudging you away with a discreet flicker of flame at the tip of her finger.

Your girl.

“Look at that grin! Just an hour ago, she was moping over her shots,” a friend teases.

“I can count all the times she’s smiled at work on one hand and still have fingers left over,” Kamiji says, joining the min roast session. Her eyes gleam. “Introduce me to her later, yeah?”

“We’ll see,” you say non-committedly.

“Pfff - get outta here. Some people need a drink.”

“I gotcha,” your best friend volunteers. You notice them already making eyes at Kamiji and silently congratulate yourself on introducing them.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you say with a quick wave.

“How much later?” a friend snarks.

“Have fun!” another offers, waggling their eyebrows.

“Be safe,” one teases, a joke coming from a civilian.

“For real,” Kamiji adds. From her, regardless of her playful demeanor, it’s definitely not a joke. “Call me tomorrow morning. Or afternoon. Whenever you wake up.” 

“Sure.” 

It’s a good night, you think as you wander back to the entrance to meet Fuyumi. You have a feeling it’s about to get better.

So caught up in her, you miss your best friend and Kamiji lingering on their way to the bar. Both are curious to see who could possibly catch their overly serious workaholic of a friend’s attention. They exchange sneaky grins, instant co-conspirators, as they shadow you.

“Y/l/n’s usually the first to pick up when we’re being watched on stakeouts,” Kamiji confides in your friend. “Either she’s had too much to drink or this girl is something.”

They snort. “A couple of us literally walked by their table five times and she didn’t so much as glance our way. You literally came by the one time this entire evening where she’s taken her eyes off her.”

Kamiji’s sharp canines glint in her grin. “Oh, really~?”

She peers over at the door to take a look at your mystery girl and...stops. Her grin drops like a stone.

“Oh, shit.”

Your friend quirks a brow. “What?”

“Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit,” Kamii mutters. “Y/L/N! HEY, Y/L/N!” 

The bar’s noise drowns her out.

“Fuck.” Kamiji whips out her cell and dials your number. When she goes straight to voicemail, she tries again. And again. She sends you a barrage of texts.

“What’s wrong?” your friend asks. “Do you know her?”

There’s no humor in Kamiji’s caustic laugh. “Pretty much everybody at the agency knows her - except our newbie apparently.”

“At the agency? Is she a villain?”

“Worse.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

On the way to your apartment, you check and double check if this is what Fuyumi wants. She laughs a little as she reassures you. You insist that she texts someone, anyone, and give her your address ahead of time. You even ask her to sing the English alphabet backwards to make sure it’s not alcohol’s decision rather than her own certain and sober one. Between your protectiveness against...well, in this case, yourself and her laughter, you two trade giddy glances and secret smiles throughout the entire drive. 

You’ve never seen anyone who looks so...pretty in the city lights. You’d long lost any awe over Tokyo’s shining lights but find yourself gaining a new appreciation for them. They look good on her, reflecting off her hair and fair skin and glasses. It’s like Fuyumi is made of light and glass and something so bright that comes from within you can’t even fully fathom it.

And holy hell, she agreed to come to your apartment. Is this actually happening?

Your fingers tap a nervous rhythm in the middle seat. Suddenly, a cold hand slips over them - halting them. You jump, glancing over. She smiles and squeezes your hand, reassuring you even with that blush and her own fidgeting. 

You’re the one who's supposed to be taken care of right now, you think.

But now you’re so focused on leveling your breathing you can’t risk looking at her. You do, however, lace your fingers through hers. 

And it just fits. 

When you arrive at your place and slide out of the car, you’re the one to reattach your hands while you jostle for key with your other hand. You’re suddenly entirely too grateful to have a first floor apartment.

Reality socks you in the stomach when you’re inside. With Fuyumi. 

It’s strange...seeing her in your apartment. You can’t remember the last time you had anyone else in your home, hardly in it yourself between patrols and paperwork and stakeouts. But having Fuyumi here? With you? Barely visible in the dim light of your entryway, hair bright like a halo and face barely visible?

It’s like a dream.

But it’s not. Your heart wouldn’t be hammering like this if this were a dream. 

Fuyumi still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything, the situation seems to dawn on her, too, going by how she clutches it. You both stand together in the dimly lit genkan, quiet, a little awkward. But the small space between you is purely electric.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Fuyumi admits quietly.

“Me, neither…”

“Work?” she guesses.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “You?”

“School. Then work.”

You force a smile through your nerves. “And taking care of other people?”

Her words are hushed. “Yeah… That, too.”

“Guess we both missed out on the crazy party phase other people our age got,” you say dryly.

That earns you a soft laugh. “I guess so. Never looked all that great anyway.”

You snort. “Yeah, I’m not too upset that I missed out on all my friends’ college hangovers. But when was the last time you got to just...let go? Not care what anyone thinks or says?” 

You yourself could at least count some fond high school memories.

Fuyumi, however… 

She says nothing, bangs covering her eyes. 

Tonight, you decide. Tonight is her night. 

And suddenly, something clicks into place. You’re not nervous anymore.

“In that case...” Hands still connected, you step out of the genkan. “I think it’s about time someone took care of you.”

Her eyebrows furrow in concern. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But… Aren’t you tired from caring so much?”

I don’t think I could ever get tired of caring for you.

Gently, you bring your intertwined hands to your mouth and smooth light, unhurried kisses over her fingers. Your lips trail along her knuckles until they press against her wrist and linger there over her pulse. You look at her through hooded eyes. Her breath catches. 

Then you drop your hands.

“Trust me,” you say, your voice low in your own ears. “This is as much for me as it is for you. But only if you want it.”

There’s an unspoken question there.

Fuyumi meets your gaze directly, heat rising in her eyes, almost like blue fire in how they scorch you with a single look. You start to rethink your original guess about her Quirk.

“I want it.” 

You. I want you.

Sucking in a long, slow breath, you smile at her. “...then come get it, Fuyumi-san.” 

She stumbles forward, as though in a trance. Shaky hands land on your strong shoulders, seeking stability, and she steps into you. Your chests brush against each other, and you’re submerged in her creamy vanilla and jasmine perfume. That gravitational pull tugs at you but you stop yourself just shy of her lips.

Hers. This is her night, her decision.

Her cool breath fans across your lips. Starlit eyes peer into your darkening ones.

You wait.

“May I?” The words vibrate against your mouth. 

Your heart melts.

“Of course.”

Fuyumi closes that last centimeter of distance and presses her trembling lip to yours. She tilts her head, mindful of her glasses. The kiss is slow and careful, closed mouth, testing the boundaries. Even with your verbal consent, it asks, Is this okay? You follow her lead, tenderly coaxing her lips along your own. Warm and welcoming and reassuring her yes, yes, yes. This is okay. This is perfectly okay. 

I want you, too. 

Her hands tighten on your shoulders. Yours slide into her feather-soft hair. You tug out the ponytail holder and delve your fingers in the tresses. You pull away, separating you with a soft pop, and watch the silky strands float to her shoulders.

Breathing hard, Fuyumi is still clutching your shoulders. Her face is flushed, roses blooming in her cheeks, and her pupils are blown wide. 

“Whoever named you had the right idea,” you mutter, completely dazed.

You don’t get a chance to recover.

Fuyumi surges forward, grabbing your face, and pulls you to her. You slant your head just in time to meet her kiss, eyes fluttering shut. Her lips are soft, soft yet pleasantly chilled. And they move fervently along yours. Currents spark from her to you, tingling down your spine and electrifying your senses. You meet her passion with your own, shaky and reverent hands moving up to grip her blazer. 

Without breaking the kiss, she steps out of the genkan and strides forward - backing you into your own apartment. Her hands slide from your cheeks and into your hair, tugging. You gasp, startled, and Fuyumi’s tongue is like ice in the warm cavern in your mouth. You groan. She uses her grip on your hair to angle you just so, completely taking over the kiss, and you let her. You want her to.

You move your hands up her back, into her hair - earning you another tug in reprimand - and down again until they find her full hips. You squeeze, enjoying the plush give under your fingers. Fuyumi hums, low and appreciative. You smooth your hands over her curves, slipping your thumbs under the shirt and rubbing circles against her hip bones. 

Fuyumi breaks the kiss just long enough to slide off her blazer, lets it fall to the floor with a muffled foomp and your leather jacket joins it soon after. Then she’s on you again, looping her arms around your shoulders. Pressing close, closer, her full breasts soft against yours. Her lofty exhale condensates in your warm apartment, chilling your lips. Your eyes flutter.

Gripping her hips, you kiss her - kiss her like you wanted to from the moment she first smiled at you. You kiss her like you want to consume her. And Fuyumi meets you, passion for passion, ice for fire. 

You slide your hands further up her turtleneck and skim along cool, soft skin with heated palms. Fuyumi arches, making soft appreciative noises that falter into disappointment when you remove your hands. Next you wind your arms around to fully embrace her, crushing her to you. Fuyumi moans. 

You pull back enough to land several pecks on her smiling lips, making her giggle, and then shower the rest of her face in kisses. Your eager mouth finds her swan-like neck and becomes more sensual, mouthing along the arch. Kissing and sucking and just breathing her in. Fuyumi leans her head back to accept your affections in full.  

“You’re so warm,” she sighs happily. 

Your brain dies and comes back to life. And then you promptly realize the full implication of her words.

Panting, you pull away. You’re still foggy and lost  and looking at Fuyumi, Fuyumi with that glazed over expression and slightly parted lips, certainly does help. But you have to check yourself - make sure you’re still in control.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Just wanted to look at you,” you say. Not a complete, as your gaze sears up and down her body.

“Don’t just look then.” Fuyumi tugs you forward by your shirt. You lean back at the last moment and grin at the frustrated sound she makes in the back of her throat.

“Y/n-san…” 

You kiss her, a quick peck, and dart away before she has the chance to deepen it.

Her nose scrunches up. You kiss that, too. She chases after your lips but you dodge, her lips landing on your cheek instead. You snicker.

“Y/n-san.” There’s a warning in her tone. The sternness in it, the sudden assertiveness, makes you light-headed and eager to obey.

Damn. You make a mental note to explore this later.

“Just wanted to be extra sure this is what you want,” you say breathlessly.

“I told you that I wa - “

You catch her open mouth in yours, kissing her longer, deeper. Your lips smolder against hers. Her responding hum shoots straight to your core. 

When you go to move away again, Fuyumi snares your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls you back in. A hand on your waist slips under your shirt, teasing the skin it finds there. She palms the small of your back. Pushes you closer. You squirm at the unexpected cold, inadvertently pushing yourself closer. She uses this to pull you into her, hands skating up your ribs, palms freezing, touch burning. The air grows hot and humid, a perfect clash between your Quirks, and you’re shivering from something far beyond temperature, beyond arousal. 

“Oh, god…” you eke out as she sucks on the corner of your jaw. You’re too far gone to process it, lost in a strange space between too much and not enough.

It’s only Fuyumi’s mercy that allows you to catch your breath. She pulls back, leaving our lips kiss-swollen and red and panting. You gawk at her.

Her demure smile isn’t kind; it’s the calm before a storm. “Where’s the bedroom?”

A small, pitiful sound - a whimper - escapes you.

This woman is going to be the death of you.

Wordlessly, you grip her thick thighs and lift her up enough to wrap her legs around your waist. Fuyumi yelps. She winds her arms around your shoulders, beaming down at you. You grin up at her adoringly, even when she laughs at you when you bump into your own furniture in your own damn apartment.

“I can’t remember the last time anyone’s carried me,” she says.

Nudging your door open with your foot, you hum thoughtfully. “I can’t remember the last time I had a pretty girl in my arms.”

Fuyumi hides her burning face in your neck. “...you, too.”

“Mm?” 

“You’re pretty, too,” she murmurs, burrowing in your shoulder. She nestles into you endearingly. “Prettier.”

You press a kiss to the side of her head, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her conditioner. You whisper, “Don’t get in a fight over who’s prettier with me, Fuyumi-san. You’d lose.”

Then you promptly drop her on your bed.

Yelping, Fuyumi bounces on the mattress. She’s still smiling and giggling even when she tries to glare at you. “No, I wouldn’t,” she protests.

Amused, you place one knee on the bed. “Yes. You would.”

“No. I wouldn’t. Have you seen yourself?”

“Occasionally,” you drawl, raising your other knee to fully kneel in front of Fuyumi. 

“But you’re so fit and strong and - “ She bites her lip again, face tinted pink. “You’re gorgeous.”

You take your sweet, sweet time looking Fuyumi up and down. Body half sprawled across your bed, her beautiful hair fans out like a halo. The hem of her shirt is partially pushed up, revealing her pale stomach where a diamond navel piercing gleam and the full flare of her waist.

“I don’t compare,” you say simply, bending down to crawl over to her.

Fuyumi rises up on your elbows to meet you halfway. You straddle her hips, having to stretch out your thighs to fully seat yourself over them. Damn. They’re so solid and soft underneath you. You never want to sit anywhere else again.

Fuyumi’s breath hitches, staring up at you as though entranced. Her hands slip over your thighs. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

“I think you,” you carefully slide off her frames, removing the one thing between you and the intensity of her gaze, “need new glasses, Fuyumi-san.”

You fold up her glasses and lean over to put them safely on your side table. The movement moves your hips, unintentionally grinding. The small friction makes you release a stuttery breath.

Hearing it, her own breathing starts to get heavier. Fuyumi tightens her grip on your thighs and pushes back. You groan, long and low in your throat. You start a slow rocking motion, core grinding down. Fuyumi’s hips meet you movement for movement. Her hooded gaze flares.

You place your hands on top of hers, looking down at her with half-lidded eyes. Taking all of her in hungrily. “Fuyumi-san, when you say you haven’t done this before…”

“I mean going home with someone I just met,” she murmurs, caught in the rocking motion. “This isn’t - it won’t be my first time.”

Her earlier ferocity - and the current undulations of her hips under yours - suggested as much, but it’s always good to check. 

You brush your fingers over her slim wrists and up her arms and down again. Feather light. Your touch ghosts over her exposed stomach and then up her lower ribs, pressing fully against her velvet skin. 

Fuyumi arches her back, eyelashes fluttering. Her lips quiver. 

She’s already starting to sweat, slick under your palms. You slide your hands back down and curve over her waist, kneading the bit of fat there. Her fair skin pinkens where you touch her. A small, desperate sound escapes her. 

“God, I love the sound of your voice,” you rasp, grinding harder. “From the moment I first I heard it.”

She laughs a little. “I’m surprised you even heard it. The bar was so loud.”

Rather than respond, you scoot down her thighs in order to bend down and nip a hipbone.

“Y/n-san.”

You groan at the sound of your name before trailing your lips from one hip to the other, your tongue briefly circling around her piercing. Throughout your loving ministrations, you push your hands further up her shirt to her heavy breasts and squeeze softly. Fuyumi arches her back, crying out. 

Eventually, you push her turtleneck up. Fuyumi sits up and you help pull it over her head. Your mouth dries.

Her beautiful hair is a beautiful mess, red tangled in white. Darkened blue eyes stare at you hazily. You finally learn that her flush extends from her round cheeks to her sternum, rosey and warm in the ivory of her skin. Her simple black bra barely restrains her heaving breasts. She’s all curves and supple skin and vanilla-and-jasmine perfume and - 

“How did I get so lucky as to bring you home with me tonight?”

In answer, Fuyumi kisses you. Her insistent lips move from your needy mouth to your neck. You gasp when she finds the sensitive place behind your ear. Her chilled breath makes you tremble. 

“How did I get so lucky as to end up in your bed?” she croons. Then she sucks your earlobe into her frigid mouth.

“Ah!”

She wrangles your shirt off and sends her mouth down the valley of your breasts. You wrap your legs around her waist, squeezing her between your thighs and pressing her into your aching core. Your head lolls, hair falling back. Your breathing is heavy under her. Her fingers tangle with the back of your bra and unclip it with ease. 

Peppering your shoulders with chilled kisses as she slides the straps over them, Fuyumi tosses your bra over the side of the bed and pulls back to admire. You shiver at the dark, glassy look in her eyes. And then put up absolutely no resistance when she pushes you down on the bed.

Freezing hands caress your breasts, making you hiss and raise your back, as they come in contact with your sultry body.

“Sorry,” Fuyumi says, not sounding the least bit put out. “Quirk thing.”

Your chest heaves. “S’fine. Do whatever. Just - just keep touching me.”

Her eyelids lowered, and that demure smile returns. “That’s not a very polite way to ask for what you want, y/n-san.”

You’re not a proud person, and you know what you want. “Please, Fuyumi-san, please keep touching me - aah!”

Fuyumi leans down to circle a nipple with her ice-like tongue, sucking it in with a lewd suctiony sound. Glacial fingers pinch the other. Her other hand trails down, breezing across your ribs, until they find the hem of your pants and toying with the zipper. You pant, grasping at her shoulders for purchase. Forgoing the zipper entirely, Fuyumi cups you through your jeans - fingers rubbing tantalizing circles against your heat. 

“Fuyumi-san!” you whine.

“Such pretty noises…” Fuyumi murmurs against your breast. “And you looked so stoic and serious at the bar. But look at you.”

Fuyumi grinds the heel of her hand into you. You squirm helplessly underneath her wintery body. It feels so good but so intense. You wonder if you’d somehow managed to lure a yuki-onna to your bed.

“You just fall apart at the simplest of touches.” She bends her head over your other breast, biting down gently. She continues to palm at your throbbing core.

You buck your hips, desperate for more friction. “Please…”

Then, in retribution for your earlier teasing, she removes her hand out from between your trembling thighs. You whine. Making direct eye contact with you, Fuyumi pulls back with your nipple still pinched between her teeth. Only after you let loose a satisfactory whimper does she release it. Your other nipple, however, she continues to roll leisurely between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Apologies. You seemed to like how assertive I was earlier. Was I mistaken?”

You don’t deny it. Instead, you say weakly, “Didn’t expect this from an elementary school teacher.”

Smiling amusedly, Fuyumi nuzzles into your too-warm cheek. “I can’t be nice, patient sensei all the time.”

“So you like to get back some control in the bedroom,” you say dryly.

Fuyumi’s answer is scraping her teeth down your throat and sucking a mark into your collarbone. Cold hands seize your breasts, squeezing. A knee slips between your thighs to push against you. You cry out.

“Based on that lovely reponse…” Fuyumi croons, running her hands up and down your sides, “and your clear deflection from my original statement, you like to let go of control in the bedroom. It’s a release.”

Somewhere in the haze of your lust, you catch on. You raise an eyebrow.

She sighs. “Let me guess: high stakes civil service job, demanding work environment, lots of pressure, extremely stressful. You have to be in complete control at all times on the job, always alert, and need your phone on even after hours just in case.”

“...maybe.” She has a scarily clear cut understanding of your “civil service job”, even without the full details such as what exactly it is. 

She smiles understandingly, though there’s a strange twist to it. “I noticed how..alert you were at the bar. Even though you came with friends. You really don’t let yourself relax, do you?”

You turn your head, averting your eyes. 

Gentle fingers pinch your chin and bring them back to meet Fuyumi’s compassionate gaze. “It’s okay, y/n-san,” she soothes. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place - “

“No, you’re right,” you cut her off, voice hoarse. “I - it’s just I… I love my job.”

“I know,” she murmurs, caressing the side of your face. 

Your draw in a breath. “I’m lucky to have it. Especially being a woman. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a little kid. And it - I get to help so many people. Every day. I feel like I make a real difference, you know? But it’s not easy.”

Fuyumi strokes your hair. “When was the last time you took some time off?”

You scoff, covering your eyes with a forearm. “I just transferred to a new agency a little while ago. I still have a lot to prove.”

This makes Fuyumi frown. “They chose to hire you. You shouldn’t have to prove anything!”

“Fuyumi-san,” you drawl, “you’re taking care of other people again. Didn’t I say it's your turn to be taken care of tonight?”

“Is you taking care of me just ‘helping people’ like you do everyday?” she asks.

“No. Is you asking about my work life and the personal toll it has just another way of asserting control?” you deadpan.

Fuyumi sputters, turning red. “N-no! And how’s wanting to help others ‘control’?”

“‘Help is the sunny side of control,’” you quote, bone dry.

Semi-amused, you watch realization dawn across Fuyumi’s face. “That’s - I never thought about it that way. That’s...quite insightful. Did you come up with that? Or is that from somewhere?”

“Anne Lammottt,” you say dryly. “She wrote this sorta half self-help, half memoir on hope and how to find it when things are at their bleakest. My therapist recommended it. I’ll lend you my copy.”

The bed creaks as Fuyumi sits up, straddling you. Poker faced, you make a herculean effort to keep your gaze directly on her face rather than stray to...well, the gorgeous half-naked body on top of you.

“You have a therapist?”

“High stakes job with heaps of pressure and stress, remember?” you quip. “It would be irresponsible of me not to take care of my mental health. Like skipping a dental cleaning or a vaccination.”

“Yeah…” Again, Fuyumi has that intent, searching look in her eyes. The same one she gave you after admitting how tired you were, how draining caring can be. Without her glasses, it’s only about 100 times more intense. 

And there you are, titties out, laid out like a spread eagle underneath Fuyumi like you’re her personal throne. Not a bad position to be in, of course, but a little odd when her face looks like she’s trying to solve the world’s hardest math problem and not contorted in the throes of passion as gifted by yours truly. You wait it out, though. It seems important.

It’s a nice view anyway.

Finally: “You’re really something, y/l/n y/n.”

You smile up at her lazily. “Thanks. You’re something special yourself, Todoroki Fuyumi.”

Fuyumi smiles down at you like a real life Madonna icon. You’re suddenly reminded of your recently developed Fuyumi-related asthma. And how her luscious thighs are actually a little warm after hugging your body for so long.

You drum your fingers against them, enjoying the feel even through her jeans. “Hey, Fuyumi-san?”

“Mm?”

“How did we go from the hottest foreplay of my life to talking about our mutual tendencies for compulsive caretaking?”

Fuyumi slaps her hands over her reddening cheeks and groans. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, y/n-san!”

“It’s cool,” you say, nonchalant. “We can do a naked book club instead, if you like. Anything you wanna recommend?”

“No! No naked book club - well, maybe later. Wait!” She drags her hands down her face and half-heartedly glowers down at you. Somehow, that stern look makes you throb. “You’re making fun of me.”

“A little,” you admit. You stroke her thighs soothingly. “But I’m also a little serious. If you’d rather do something else, that’s okay. I think I have some puzzles somewhere.“

Snorting, Fuyumi shakes her head. “I want to keep going. I do, I really do. But if I made it too weird or - “

“Great. I want to, too,” you state bluntly. 

“I didn’t make it weird?”

“Sex is weird sometimes. Besides….” You look up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, feeling your desire thrum back to life at her bold reassertion. Your voice turns smokey when you speak next. “I want to make you feel good, Fuyumi-san.”

Fuyumi shudders above you. 

Gripping her thighs, you slowly sit up to avoid jostling her from your lap. Warm hands smooth up her thighs, following the curves of her wide hips and her waistline. Fuyumi shivers when you linger on the sides of her plump breasts. You trace her bra’s outer edges up to the elastic straps and unhurriedly lower the right one. You press a kiss to her bared shoulder, as soft as the newly fallen snow outside.

“I want to make you really, really good.”

You feel how the exhale shudders out of her. “Y/n-san…”

“Will you let me? Will you let me make you feel good, Fuyumi-san?”

She laughs softly, hugging your shoulders. “How do you do that? “

“Do what?” you mumble, sucking at a beauty mark you find.

“Just - mmph, right there - just turn the situation around? It was so a-aah! Awkward and now it’s like this again.” 

You laugh huskily. “A little trick I learned on the job.”

“Seducing people?”

“Are you seduced?” you purr.

“Y-yes. But seriously...” 

“Let’s just say... I learned how to assess a situation and Turn. It. Around. In my favor.” You kiss up her neck with each word, breathing in deeply.

She gently scratches down your back, soft lines that make you shudder. “Mm, you’re a good civil servant.” 

This draws a smirk from you. “Thanks. Now...back to my question.”

“Mm?” Fuyumi’s eyes flutter.

You whisper hotly against her ear, “Will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes, please.”

Grinning, you kiss her ear and set to work.

You unsnap her bra clasp, sliding the silky undergarment off and lazily letting it fall from your hand. Her supple breasts fall free with gentle bounce. Hand on her shoulder, you lightly push her onto her back and Fuyumi goes down willingly. Lips parted, you stare down at her darkly. 

Expression hazy, she smiles up at you. “Please take care of me.”

“I’ll try my best,” you promise, voice low and gravelly.

You cup her breasts, relishing the soft weight of them in your hands, and rub slow circles over them. Then you bend down to tongue a slow circle around a dusky nipple before sucking it into your eager mouth. Fuyumi sighs, cupping the back of your neck. You hum, then go to turn your attention to the next. Gently heating your lips, you press gossamer-like kisses all over her flushed chest. From there, you kiss down her sternum and down her chest.

“Y/n-san,” she calls softly as you leave marks along her stomach.

You sink blunt teeth into he left hip and she gasps. Trembling underneath you, Fuyumi grips your hair and moans.

You slip a finger under her jeans, looking to her with lifted eyebrows. At her nod, you unbutton her jeans and - in return for her icy teasing - unzip the fly with your teeth. She gasps. You tug at the loosened denim, to which she lifts her hips, and you slide down her jeans past her hips where you kiss and suck and nip. Then you pull the jeans down her thighs. You swallow at the sight of her pink panties, pupils dilating at the dark stain over her folds.

Still, you take your time - gently pulling her jeans off one creamy leg at a time. You kiss every inch of new skin revealed, reveling in Fuyumi’s increasingly shallow breathing. You watch her chest rise and fall, breasts heaving. 

She’s easily the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

Not looking away once, you toss the jeans to some far corner and settle between her thighs. You’re not even aware of where you are, so consumed with the sight and smell of her. 

“Y-y/n-san,” she calls.

“Shh, darling,” you murmur, landing a kiss on the inside of her knee. You trace your lips down the soft skin of her inner thigh. “I know, I know.”

“Hurry.”

“Almost there. I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise.”

She moans, the precious noise pitching louder when you press your lips to the sweet wetness pooled between her thighs. You flick the full length of your tongue over her. Delicate fingers grip the back of your head, cold and insistent, and you groan. The vibrations send her hips rolling and you follow along with the motions, licking and sucking through her underwear, breathing through your nose, tenderly thumbing circles into her hip bones. Despite the delicious press of her clenching thighs against your ears, you hear her call your name - broken between a plea and a command. And you obey.

Without wasting another moment, you pull away and hook your fingers under the hem of her panties. You slide the garment down her hips, groan at the pearly strands of her essence clinging to her puffy inner lips, and pull it down her lush thighs. 

Impatient, Fuyumi sits up enough to shove her panties the rest of the way off. Then her hand returns to the back of your head which she immediately guides to her cunt. You grasp her thighs, spreading them open for better access. You latch onto her hot bundle of nerves and suck into your mouth. Encouraged by her cries, you lave your tongue between her folds while your thumb continues toying with her clit. 

Nails scrape against your scalp, sending shocks of pained pleasure through you and inciting another moan. You bury your tongue inside her, reveling in the full taste of her. A mewl rewards your efforts. Chin shiny with her juices, you pull back only to return to her clit. You press a kiss there, two, three, before sucking it back into your hot mouth. Your fingers slide inside her; velvety walls clench around them, pulsing rhythmically as you slide in and out. 

Lashes fluttering, you lift your gaze to meet Fuyumi’s piercing blue eyes - bright and demanding above the flush of her cheeks and her neck and her heaving chest. Her grip tightens in your hair. You close eyes, blissed out, and delve your tongue deeper inside her until your nose is pressed against her clit. You delight in the wet friction. 

Her legs tremble, one hooked over your shoulder. Her cries rise - higher, higher, pitching into the dark ceiling. The sweetest of noises. You whimper when her thighs clench around you, following the undulations of her hips. Your own squirm against the sheets, arousal pooling in your underwear, as you listen. You feel it before she cries out: hands grasping, thighs shaking, labia twitching, her inner walls clenching around you. 

Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. All because of you.

Fuyumi calls your names.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes -

Cold. 

Cold, cold, cold.

Under Fuyumi’s hands, ice coats your shoulders and spreads down your back. Your hair is stiff and frozen. Where her juices coated your lips and chin, now frozen. Even the tip of your nose has frost.

You blink.

Fuyumi gapes at you, horrified. 

“You know...when the weather forecast said snowy night in Tokyo, this isn’t what I expected.”

“I am SO sorry!”

You burst out laughing.

She hides her bright red face in her hands. “I’m sorry, y/n-san! Do you have a hair dryer? Let me -- “

“Nah, I’m okay. See?” You channel your Quirk, focusing on the warmth always present in the center of your chest, and let the heat spread throughout the rest of your body. Steam rises from your skin as the frost melts, not leaving so much as a droplet of moisture behind. 

Hands lowered, Fuyumi’s jaw drops. “You...you have a fire Quirk.”

“Opposites really do attract, huh?” Eyes crinkling, you laugh. 

It’s the only sound in the bedroom. 

“...Fuyumi-san?”

Speechless, Fuyumi stares at you with wide, wide eyes. The climax-induced flush is gone, bleached from her skin. She covers her mouth with a shaky hand.

You immediately recognize that expression. It’s the look a civilian had before they were saved, before help arrived. Fear. Seeing it on her face makes your stomach turn. It reminds you of the time you rescued a child from a burning building after a villain set off an electrical fire - the initial relief on the boy’s face evolving into sheer panic when you activated your own flames to fight the villain off before back-up came. You’d hated yourself for reigniting that fear so soon after the initial trauma.

And now? You’re bewildered and cautious. 

“Hey...you alright there?”

“I - yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Fuyumi swiftly looks away, shrinking in on herself. She brings her arms up to her bare chest. 

Resisting the urge to frown, you put up an air of calm. You wordlessly lift a sheet and - avoiding sudden movements - wrap it around her shoulders.

She blinks at you.

“A lot of people have had bad experiences with fire,” you say, non-judgemental. You smile softly. “I get it. It can be pretty scary sometimes. But I can guarantee you that I have better control over my Quirk than most people. Haven’t had an accident since I was 10.”

“I’m not - that’s not it, y/n-san.” Even saying that, Fuyumi pulled the sheet tighter around herself.

You lifted and lowered your shoulders in a languid shrug. “It doesn’t matter what it was or wasn’t. And you don’t have to explain it to me, either.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “Y/n-san - “ 

“Fuyumi-san,” you say, hushed. “It’s okay.”

You won't lie to yourself, though: It hurts. But you recognize a trigger when you see one. If years of general wariness of your flames didn’t teach you that, your training certainly did.

It’s that same training that allows you to smile at her reassuringly. “Hey… Look.” 

You hold your hand out, palm side up. Watching her face carefully, searching for even the slightest flinch, you focus the heat under your skin to converge at the center of your palm: A spark, then a shimmer, and a small flame comes to life. No bigger than a birthday candle, it casts a soft light across your face. 

Fuyumi’s eyes flicker between your tender expression and the tiny fire. Your own gaze doesn’t waver from her face, even as you slowly twist your hand and will the flame to move sluggishly along your palm, your wrist, over your knuckles, and between your fingers. Fuyumi watches all the while. 

You urge the flare to your to the very tip of your index finger and hold it up to your mouth. You purse your lips, not unlike a kiss, and extinguish it with a small puff. You wink at her. “See? Perfect control.”

While she is still hunched under the sheet, it at least earns you a small, wobbly smile. 

You hold out your hand, again palm side up. She immediately looks at it, clearly expecting another flame. The corner of your mouth twitches and you wiggle your fingers a little. 

It’s a relief when she accepts the silent offer, placing her small hand in yours. Your fingers wrap around hers. Tenderly, carefully, you brush your over her knuckles. Like you’re holding something infinitely precious.

“I was a pretty stupid kid, you know. You would’ve hated having me in your classroom,” you say suddenly, still fixated on your joined hands.

Fuyumi looks almost offended. “No, I wouldn’t!”

It makes you grin a little. “You’re right. You’re an amazing teacher - one of those saintly ones with tons of patience for even the brattiest of kids. I can tell. But trust me, even little me would have given you a run for your money. I was pretty full of myself, just because of an accident of being born with some flashy Quirk. Always showing off and playing around with it.”

At this, your smile fades into a grim line. “But you know what they say about playing with fire. ‘Cept I can’t burn but others sure can. I learned that the hard way...at someone else’s expense.”

“...the accident when you were 10,” Fuyumi recalls, voice faint.

“It was someone I really care about,” you say. Your mouth twists into a self-contemptuous sneer as you shake your head. “I knew how to start fires but hadn’t yet learned how to put them out. So much for the little show off.”

Suddenly, her hand squeezes yours. You blink.

“You were only a child, y/n-san,” she whispers. Her eyebrows scrunch together and without her glasses, there’s nothing between you and those fierce eyes. “It was an accident.”

“Doesn’t matter. Someone else paid for it,” you say, uncompromising. She opens her mouth to protest. You raise her hand to kiss her knuckles which immediately snaps her mouth close. “And I’ve been a whole lot more careful since then. I promised myself that I would use my Quirk to protect people, not hurt them. Especially not someone I care about.”

At that, you press your lips to her slim wrist. You gently suck at the blue-ish veins beneath delicate skin, kissing the heel of her hand and then her own palm and finally the tips of fingers. You look up to see Fuyumi’s cherry red face.

“Are you hungry?”

“W-what?” She sounds half as breathless as you felt most of the evening. Payback, sweetheart.

“I promised to take care of you tonight, remember? So. Are you hungry?”

Fuyumi stares at you, taking in your still half-dressed state and kiss-bruised lips. “What about you? I didn’t...you know.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. Lemme get you a glass of water at least.”

After her near panic attack and the sudden turn in conversation, you figure she might not be in the best headspace to...reciprocate. Besides, nothing dashes the libido quite like your partner almost freaking out at your Quirk.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stretch your arms out, oblivious to Fuyumi’s sharpened stare where your back muscles ripple with the movement. You push your hair back, lightly scratching your head as you lazily search the floor for your shirt. 

“Wanna watch a movie or something? I think I have some popcorn. We could - “

Cool hands smooth over your waist, meeting in the middle of your stomach. You feel the swell of her breasts against your too-warm back, tight nipples on your shoulder blades. Chilled lips brush the junction of your neck and shoulder, following the curve of your neck. She catches your earlobe between her teeth and tugs. 

Your breath hitches. 

Her hands trail up your abdomen, leaving shivers in their wake, before cupping your breasts. You arch your back, consequently pushing yourself further into her. Her thumbs smooth twin circles around your nipples, her natural chill sensitizing them. 

“Fuyumi….” Her name is a weak moan from your mouth.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” comes her wintry whisper. “Let me return the favor, okay?”

“A-are you sure? A-ah! Fuyumi!”

“I told you, y/n, I want it. And I’ll take it if I have to.”

There is a higher power and apparently, that higher power fucking loves you.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

It’s habit that wakes you up in the early morning. Drowsily, you blink up at your ceiling and then turn your head on your pillow to find Fuyumi’s face inches from yours. Her cheek is squished against a pillow, snowy strands caught in her mouth. 

You stare at her in silent awe. 

Eventually, your stomach reminds you of your basic needs and by extension Fuyumi’s eventual needs as well. Breakfast then. You sit up slowly, taking care not to wake her. You swing your legs over the bed and pad your way around fallen clothes. You pick them up, sorting out which were whose. Your cell drops out of your pants.

You remember your promise to Kamiji. Turning on your cell, you grimace at the low power and then pause at the many...many messages on it.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: RED ALERT RED ALERT

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: YO Y/N PICK UP

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: As GREAT as a time you’re having right now...pick up.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Yl//n.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Y/l/n. 

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Y/l/n y/n.

Frowning, you press “call” on her contact. A few rings carry on, setting your nerves at ease. You know that if it really was an emergency, she would be awake and pick up immediately.

A groggy voice answers. “Must’ve been a fun night.”

“Kamiji, what’s up?” you murmur.

“Did you take that girl home with you?”

“Uuh…” You glance at Fuyumi’s curled up form. The sheets drape over the curve of her hips and tangle between her legs, leaving her mostly bare. Her arms stretch out above her head, feathery hair a tangled mess, carmine streaks vibrant in the sunrise. A few of your marks stand out, red and violet, on the fair skin of her waist and chest. Perfect matches to the ones all over your chest.

You don’t realize you’re smiling like an idiot until you hear your name repeated, louder and louder. “Y/l/n… Y/L/N! HEY!”

You scowl, soundlessly slipping out of bed and snatching a robe on the way out. You muffle your phone against your collarbone until you’re safely in the kitchen where Kamiji’s yelling won’t wake Fuyumi up.

“Yes, Kamiji, I took her home with me and now I’m going to make her breakfast. There a problem?” 

Coffee. You need coffee. 

“Well, at least you’re treating her right. Hopefully that’ll work in your favor.”

“What are you talking about?” you grouse, getting your coffee maker ready. You mentally go over what you have in the fridge. Do you have enough to make something? Or should you run to the cafe to grab something? Would you get back before Fuyumi wakes up? Maybe you should wait and see if she’d want to go with you...

A dark laugh from the receiver. “You really have no idea who she is, do you?”

You freeze. Tightening your grip on the phone, you glance warily at your closed bedroom door. “...why, is she a villain?”

“You wish.”

Your brow furrows. “What?”

“You’re completely fireproof, right?” 

“Yes,” you say, frowning. “It’s pretty much why Endeavor hired me.”

Kamiji makes a small, aggravated noise. “He hired for more than that, y/l/n. But we’ll get into that later - before our boss gives a whole new meaning to firing you.”

“Fire me? For what?”

“What’s his name, y/l/n? His actual name?”

You really do not like where this conversation was going. “Todoroki Enji?”

“And who did you take home with you last night?”

“...that’s not funny, Kamiji.”

“I’m not joking.”

“It’s a common last name,” you protest, “and they look absolutely nothing alike - “

Except.

Except for the red in her hair. 

And the color of her eyes, the curve of her nose, the angle of her eyebrows...

The same family name.

Her reaction to your fire Quirk.

You even met at a bar close to the Endeavor Hero Agency.

“No.”

“Yeeeaaah. You slept with the #2 hero’s only daughter.”

For the first time since you were 10, you lose control of your Quirk - setting your favorite robe aflame.

“SHIT!”

Kamiji’s laughter is barely heard over the smoke alarm. Burnt cotton fills the kitchen air and you tear off the robe to throw it in the sink, immediately turning on the faucet. And then there you are, wearing nothing but a few love bites, as you fight with the smoke alarm to shut it up. 

Having taken the batteries out, you snatch up the phone and hiss, “I slept with our boss’s daughter? Our boss boss? Endeavor?”

“You work for my father?” 

You swear you feel the blood draining from your face. Slowly, mechanically, you turn around. She stands just outside your room, a vision in white sheets. The girl you met last night, the girl you’re pretty sure you fell a little in love with at first sight. The one you took home with you.

Todoroki Fuyumi.

Endeavor’s only daughter.

The higher power fucking hates you.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

Note: When Fuyumi says “Please take care of me” during introductions with reader, it’s actually an English translation of “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu” which is more of a concept than a direct translation. Cool explanation here for my fellow language nerds.

[probably-not-star-lord]

More Than a Mission: Part 1 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

A/N: I’m so excited about this series!! Prepare yourself for so much fluff and unexpected smut. Also, I really got super in-depth about the mission for this fic without knowing if any of it sounds even remotely professional. I apologize if it makes zero sense lmao.

Request: Hello, it’s me Stark again😅 I was wondering if you could do an Imagine with Steve Rogers and it’s fluff with the cliche prompt of you both have to share a bed together on a mission cause Tony “accidentally” ordered the “wrong” room for you guys on the trip everyone was going on 💛

Request: Can you write a fanfic about Steve Rogers x reader because I need it, fluff, smut and whatever you want! xx

Summary: Being an Avenger means following through with a mission no matter what the circumstances are. In this case, thanks to Tony Stark, the most ridiculous circumstance of this mission is pretending to be in love with the one and only Captain America. However, is being in love with Steve really just pretend?

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of drinking

-

Steve Rogers is intoxicating.

Ever since the day you became an Avenger you’ve been addicted to him. You drink in every sip of his kindly attractiveness and his Captain America physique. His muscles nearly rip his shirts to shreds, his piercing blue eyes can make you shudder, and his perfect smile lights up every single room he enters. He’s an adonis. Then, of course, he has this gentlemanly charm that illuminates off of him whenever he speaks and you can never take in enough of his words. A simple interaction will lead to the man living in your thoughts and dreams for hours on end. You push your desires down, so far down that you force yourself to view Steve as nothing more than a colleague, a co-worker, your boss. Yet, no matter how hard you try, he continues to stay on your mind. He’s intruding like that.

However, your relationship with Steve has always been serious, professional. There are rare occasions where the two of you train together, sparring aggressively until he inevitably wins. He pins you down on the mat at the conclusion of each session, staring into your eyes with a dominant gaze and beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. On the unlikely chance that you conquer the Captain during training, you’re the one pinning him to the floor. Your thighs straddle his large frame as you breathe heavily, letting yourself exhale as you accept your victory. Steve’s clear satisfaction with your win causes him to form this sweet smirk of his that makes your head dizzy. It makes working out impossible. This means you often spar with Natasha, who basically taught you everything you know anyway. She is the only person you’ve spoken to about your secret fascination with Steve, so she allows the intrusion of you begging her to spar when Captain America is filling up the gym with his utter perfection.

You try so hard to repress whatever feelings you have for Steve. When he gives orders during missions you almost always do as you’re told, attempting a thought that is anything other than Captain America in his suit commanding you in the bedroom as well as on the battlefield. If you decide to ignore his orders, the two of you will have it out with each other. Steve always remains calm with his words but can lose his temper and raise his tone of force from simply authoritative to echoing with frustration. You never fail to snap back at him, your feelings subsiding and your stubbornness taking control. There is pointing and groaning and getting into each other’s faces with a distinct tension that Natasha likes to label as sexual. You would prefer not to think of it as such.

Steve is your boss, after all, and outside of the sparring or the fighting he is nothing but sweet in a very professional manner. There has never been a hint of romance as far as you can tell, but there tends to be a sort of nervousness that finds Steve when the two of you are together. It boosts your confidence. He greets you every morning in the kitchen of Avenger’s Tower as the two of you drink coffee and eat breakfast with casual small talk. At all of Tony’s parties Steve will compliment you and offer you a drink, spending the night engaging in conversation that could only ever be between two colleagues. It’s always been that way, no matter how badly your heart wants more. 

The conference room feels stuffy as your thoughts consume you. It remains a struggle to remove Steve from your brain as he currently sits beside you, arms crossed and eyebrows creased as he listens to Tony. Your dear friend speaks to all of the Avengers in the room about an upcoming mission as you clearly focus elsewhere. Yet, a compelling task with the mention of you and the man in your fantasies quickly draws your attention.

“We have to do what?”

You and Steve speak at the same time, staring dumbfounded at Tony. The idea is crass and in all honesty, it makes you uncomfortable. These concepts are reserved for your daydreams, not a very real mission.

“Come on,” Tony retorts. “All I’m asking is that the two of you pretend to be a couple. Dance. Flirt a little bit. Maybe even hold hands. It’s not that complicated.”

Steve exhales loudly and turns to you. “Y/N, are you comfortable with this?”

“I am if you are, Captain,” you respond, casually shrugging with the effort to emit no sense of shock. Steve looks to the floor and chuckles nervously. Clearly, calling Steve by his authoritative name does things to him. Things that shouldn’t be mentioned in the workplace.

“Well, then, it’s settled.” Tony claps his hands together and makes his way over to the front of the board room, furthering the meeting. “Capsicle will finally thaw out of the ice and learn how to flirt with a girl. Maybe, if we’re lucky, he’ll do more than just flirt with Y/N.”

“Tony,” Steve addresses him in his Captain America voice, a stern look on his face as his hands form fists on top of the conference table. “That isn’t exactly appropriate.”

“Who said it had to be?”

Steve furrows his eyebrows at Tony, knuckles turning white from how hard he is clenching his fists. But, his face is a deep shade of crimson and the whole room can see it. As Tony takes a step back in defense, rolling his eyes and continuing with the plan, you smile to yourself in hopes to relieve Steve’s obvious tension. He laughs quietly, calming his own nerves. It catches your attention and the two of you make eye contact, only for a mere second. The awkwardness of the entire situation forces the both of you to look away.

The meeting with everyone lasts for several hours as Tony explains the threat of the mission. This time, he has all of your attention. There is a group trying to infiltrate large, Manhattan corporations through the computer systems, attempting to steal billions of dollars and any information that could be valuable to shut those businesses down. The leader, Henry Red, used to work for Tony. He was fired for leaking crucial documents. It wasn’t discovered until later that it was on purpose. Red has always had the same plan. He wants to take down Tony and any corporations similar to Stark Industries just so his own business can thrive. Obviously, this includes Stark Industries and quite possibly SHIELD or Avengers Assemble.

Red could have easily been taken down by Tony, Bruce, and maybe even SHIELD agents who are simply just good with technology. But, he isn’t working alone. Tony goes on to disclose to everyone during the meeting that Red is much more powerful than he had previously believed. He has several police officers, detectives, and even agents within Avengers Tower all working for him. These are all people being paid off to remain loyal to him, being very discreet about their private affairs. This means you can’t trust anyone but the people confined within the conference room at this exact moment. Tony warns that his threat is not only public exposure and robbery, but Henry Red is a man who is also willing to kill, as he has done numerous times in the past. Luckily, going undercover, none of you will let that happen.

“So, where are we going, Tony? His evil lair?”

He points at you. “Now is not the time for sarcasm.”

“That’s interesting coming from you,” you acknowledge, earning a laugh from the room. “But, seriously, where the hell are we going?”

“I’m sending Romanaff, Wilson, and Barnes along with you and Cap to an event being thrown by Red himself. It won’t be as extravagant as the parties I throw, of course, but it will be busy, fancy, and crowded. You’ll be overseas and Red has never been up close and personal with any of you, so I’m hoping you’ll be unrecognizable. I want to make it believable that all of you are on Red’s side, not trying to take him down. I’ll also make sure your clothing is taken care of so you can dress up and fit in with the environment.”

“Does that mean I get to wear an expensive dress and high heels?” Tony nods at your question. Your mind fills with images of you dressed up in an elegant gown and heels standing beside Steve in an expensive suit, posing to be his lover. “Will you be paying for all of this?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Who else would be paying for it?”

“When’s this event taking place?” Nat chimes in.

Tony reviews some notes that lay on the conference table. “It looks like Red is throwing the shindig on Saturday night. However, I’m sending all of you ASAP. That way you can get some rest, settle in, and hopefully survey the area.”

“One more question,” you assert. “Will there be booze at this party?”

“Of course,” he responds. “I encourage you and Steve to drink socially, in order to appear like you belong and not draw any attention. But no getting drunk, I need you to be on high alert. I’m looking at you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You brush him off. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her,” Steve assures, sending you a warm smile that makes your heart melt. Of course the golden boy himself makes a gesture of protection. You’re no damsel in distress, even Steve knows that, but having an attractive super soldier by your side can’t be all that bad.

Tony continues devising the plan. He goes on to tell you that Henry Red is currently based in Germany. He likes to hide out, get away from New York. This way he is unsuspected when his goons commit mass murders, killing those who are a threat to his heist. Wherever Henry Red is located, that’s where you and most of the team are being sent. Natasha is the lookout, lurking in places within the event to keep a close eye on any possible threats. Tony debated calling Hawkeye to help Natasha and keep her in check, but he chose to let Clint stay home with his family. Thor would be useful in this situation in case things get out of hand, but he’s currently off world. Bucky and Sam are going to watch the action of the party, posing as bodyguards and checking who goes in and who goes out. This is to keep track of those who are working for Red. Every person under his radar will be sure to make an appearance at this event. No one wants to be around when the hacking and the destroying of the companies is set to take place. That is why Tony decides Bruce and himself will keep a hold on Avengers Tower, locking in the computer system while monitoring the technology of other businesses. But, it all starts at the source. That’s where you and Steve come in.

Tony informs the two of you that you will be the only Avengers not in constant communication with the rest. It is dire for the others to always be reporting updates back to Tony and Bruce, surveying the scene and giving a run down to make sure no one is leaving the event and interrupting the process of protecting the computer system and technology. When Tony and Bruce complete the necessary arrangements to preserve the information at SHIELD, Avengers Assemble, and Stark Industries, they will have to let everyone else know right away. That’s when the cover will be blown so Nat, Bucky, and Sam can take down anyone suspected to be working with Red. Tony says that if you and Steve are always talking into the comms, suspicion will arise and the entire operation could be blown. The goal is to make sure Red is in your sight at all times, and if possible, you have to distract him from checking up on his plan. That should give Tony and Bruce enough time to protect the other systems while also hacking into his. After that is complete, you’ll have to take Red down and turn him over to the custody of the other agents that Tony will send to the event later on.

“We get in. We get Red. We get out,” Steve announces. “Got it.”

Tony sighs. “You are only allowed to get Red and get out of there on my signal. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Cap and I can handle it,” you inform him, putting him at ease.

“Make sure you’re always watching him,” Tony says seriously. Then a sly grin forms on his lips. “But have a little fun, too. Act like a real couple. Red and everyone else at the party needs to buy it.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a hard act to sell,” Sam blurts, his eyes focusing between you and Steve.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you question.

“Nothing.” Sam winks at Steve then nudges Bucky. He chuckles. Steve isn’t amused and neither are you.

“I agree,” Tony admits, ignoring your and Steve’s reactions. “But just in case the two of you pussy out of this, I need your word that you can really sell it. We can’t have all hell break loose just because the old man doesn’t know how to act around Y/N.”

“We’ll do our best, Tony,” Steve affirms, entirely dodging Tony’s insult.

You place a hand delicately on Steve’s arm, feeling him tense up a little under your kind touch. “Please, we’ve totally got this. Right, Captain?”

“Right.”

Part Two: Here

A/N: It’s been so long since I wrote this original fic that I rewrote it with some minor changes. The premise and plot is remaining the same so if you originally read this fic when I first wrote it ages ago and are wondering why I posted a new one, please stick around because I am continuing it after I update the old chapters. I kept the tag lists the same but let me know if you’d like me to update anything with the tags! I hope you all enjoy!

permanent tag list: @lolabean1998 @thisismysecrethappyplace @crazystarlady @gloomybisexualemo @yougottalovefandoms  @emilymarie0422​

series tag list: @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​ @buginkt​ @innerthingstudentblr​ @a-study-in-letters​ @noisyinfluencerstrawberry​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @rhiannon-the-troublemaker​

[nuteeya]

There were definitely plot holes, cliches and predictable scenes in Crash Landing on You. You cant run away from those things, But what stood out and covered it all was the chemistry and emotions that was brought to good use. Especially when we have leads that are Hyun Bin and Son Yejin. The man of tears (as I’d like to call cause he always gets hurt in his dramas/movies) and the Queen of Melodrama. You're just bound to get sucked in by their emotions and get hurt. WHICH they did. They played with our emotions so well that you can’t even reject the feelings. You laugh and squeal over their cute scenes. Pouty Hyun Bin will always be my favourite. Cried, bawled and have your hearts broken at their sad scenes. Like it or not, you WILL feel them. They’re just so impressively good at it, and with the bonus of their amazing chemistry, you just feel it on a whole other level.  Also, Not forgetting the supporting cast. Can I just say that it's been awhile since I felt SUCH CHEMISTRY from the WHOLE TEAM. Very rarely that I like the entire cast. Everybody aced their role. They all brought their character to life.

Firstly, Junghyuk and Seo Jihye were amazing 2nd leads. You dislike them at first but gradually, you just cant help but love them. And in-between, you lowkey switch between the two feelings cause of how their characters act and that’s just amazing. The character development they each brought to each other is *chef kiss*. Gosh I’m bad with words but they seriously pulled off their role. Next is our beloved duckling squad (Yes, including Manbok). LOVED THEM TO PIECES. You just cant hate them. They’re such squad goals. Of course, in each squad, there’s gonna be the quiet aka Gwangbeom (played by Lee Shinyoung), the friendly aka Kim Joomuk (played by Yoo Subin), the baby aka Geum Eundong (played by Tang Junsang), the funny aka Pyo Chisoo (played by Yang Kyungwon) and cutely awkward aka Jeong Manbok (played by Kim Youngmin) they’re such typical squad characters but I don’t know why, they just stand out to me. I feel like they literally just ate their roles and became it. Their dynamics? Off the roof. Their chemistry with one another is one thing but their chemistry with Seri and Ri Jeonghyeok is another. I seriously have no idea how to describe it but you just FEEL it. You just feel the love they have for each other😭

Thirdly, the ahjummas. Omg the ahjummas. The women power they exude is so strong. I LOVE IT. Love the neighbourhood loving vibe even though they lowkey hated each other at first lol. Legit love all of their character development.  Now villains, Cho Ceolgang aka Oh Manseok. This man. Ugh he did so well as the freaking villain. Oh! Can’t forget about Seri’s brother, Sehyeong aka Park Hyungsoo and his wife (played by Yoon Jimin). They all deserves a medal cause they definitely brought out their characters. The number of times I wanted them dead FAST every time they appear on screen isnt healthy. Glad, they all got what they deserved lol But seriously, applause to the actors, playing villains aint as easy as you think. Overall, it had been a painful but enjoyable ride. I’m sad to say goodbye as it’s not easy to come across a drama that’ll make you invest emotionally but that’s how it is. I cant wait to see more of the actors’ projects, be it main or supporting roles. Hopefully Hyun Bin and Yejin can act in another project again cause The Negotiation and CLOY aint enough owo. 

To Crash Landing On You,