#that test alarm went off but for like??? 1 second then ended i wonder if it'll do it later but that was anticlimatic for me n my friends

[ovinaemir]

that alarm lasted a second,,,,,,,,,,girl

[muschiettistrashmouth]

FIRST KISS - Ray Stantz | Ghostbusters

Warnings: Angst. A little bit at least. But it has a good ending!

Requested? Yes!

Words: 1590

It was a day like any other at Ghostbusters headquarters. Egon and Ray were in the laboratory doing God knows what experiments, Peter was annoying poor Janine with Slimer and you and Winston were in the kitchen.

He would do crossword puzzles while you cooked lunch since that was your cooking day.

“Anything else I can help with?” Your voice made the man raise his head to look at you, smiling very lightly.

“We finished the crossword two minutes ago, y/n.” Zeddemore laughed. Maybe it was pretty obvious that you were a little distracted looking at the lab door every ten seconds.

"Serious? Wow, I didn’t even notice.” The man let out a nasal laugh and got up to get some juice from the fridge.

“Of course you didn’t notice, you’re waiting for Ray to come out of the lab.” Winston commented, laughing when his spoon fell into the sauce you were stirring.

"Damn it." Your face was red and you were trying to think of how to get the spoon out.

Obviously, Ray decided to leave the laboratory at that same moment and enter the kitchen.

“Hey, what are you cooking?” The man asked, he exuded joy. It was adorable.

“She’s cooking a spoon.” Winston laughed in his face, trying to avoid the dish towel that had been thrown at him.

"...What?" One of Ray's eyebrows was raised in confusion.

“The spoon fell into my sauce.” You said softly, barely letting yourself be heard.

“Oh.” Ray finally understood and took a ladle from the drawer, fishing the spoon with it. “Here, y/n/n.”

"Thanks."

When you opened your mouth to continue talking to the man you had a crush on for a while, Janine shouted from downstairs that they had one more job, pressing the alarm button and making the boys run to the fire pipe to get down. You let out a sigh, turning off the heat and closing the pan to finish when they returned.

“No lunch again.” Egon commented from beside him, calmly walking towards the pipe.

“I'm hungry, I wish I had time to eat something.” Your voice came out in a mumble, making the scientist smile, it was no wonder you were such good friends.

"Here." He fished a twinkie out of his pocket and handed it over with a wink. “Don’t tell Ray, I told you they were gone.”

This actually made you laugh before opening the twinkie and taking a big bite, getting the filling all over your mouth. Egon didn't see it because it was going down the pipe and you didn't feel the filling when you finished eating it in two big bites, but Ray noticed it when he saw you reach the first floor. He always noticed, even when you thought he wasn't paying attention to you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

Apparently there were some ghosts causing chaos in a building under renovation, there were at least three.

The owner of the building was already tearing his hair out in worry about what the ghosts had been doing, disturbing people at night, scaring children who wanted to play. One of them even sent a man to the hospital after he fell down the third floor staircase.

“OK, here’s the plan…” Peter began as Winston parked the Ecto-1. “Egon and y/n will go to the third floor. Me, Winston and Ray are going to the seventh, where there is more activity."

"Right." Ray opened the car door, getting out and helping you get out after him."Good luck."

After putting on their backpacks, everyone entered the building, you and Egon went up the stairs to the third floor, the others took the elevator to the seventh.

Egon had the device to test where there was paranormal activity in hand, testing every corner of the corridors. That was when a laugh that sent shivers down their spines was heard.

“Egs?” You swallowed hard. He just nodded, terrified. “Something tells me we’re not alone anymore.”

As if on command, the device in Egon's hands began to flash and beep.

"Careful!" The man pulled you by the arm, taking you out of the line of fire where the ghost threw an armchair, which broke against the wall right where your body would be.

“Damn!” The word slipped from your lips when the second ghost appeared, you picked up the walkie-talkie and called for Ray, explaining the situation while Egon shot at the first ghost.

You threw the trap, opening it and trapping the first ghost with ease. The second one wasn't very happy seeing his friend being arrested and went against you.

"Dammit!" You screamed, being thrown against the wall on the other side, Egon tried to trap the ghot alone, but he couldn't as he was also thrown.

“y/n? Egon?” Ray shouted over the walkie-talkie, hoping nothing had happened to you.

It all happened very quickly, before you knew it, you were rolling down the stairs so violently that everything went dark and you blacked out.

“Ray, you guys better come help.” Egon was slightly hysterical, running downstairs to see if you were okay.

The man knocked on the first door he saw and started shouting for them to call an ambulance, it was an emergency. And that's how the others arrived on the floor you were on.

“y/n!” Ray ran to your body quickly, but before he could move your face, Egon held him tightly.

“You could compromise her physical integrity this way.” Spengler shouted over the smaller men's screams.

“The ambulance is coming!” The person shouted from inside the apartment. “They ordered no one to touch the body until they are here.”

In the meantime of all the confusion, Winston and Peter managed to capture the other two ghosts that were disturbing the place.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

"What time is it?" Peter's voice woke up Ray, who was sleeping sitting next to the hospital bed you were lying in and still out.

“2:45 in the morning.” Janine replied as she looked at the wristwatch she was wearing.

Everyone was scattered around the room, even though the doctors asked them to leave, no one spoke up. Everyone was worried because you hadn't woken up since you passed out.

“Here, Ray.” Egon placed his hand on one of Stantz's shoulders and handed him a cup of hot coffee with the other, making the younger man smile.

"Thanks." He yawned and took a sip of his coffee, burning his tongue. "Damn it."

“Careful, man, we don’t need another one in the hospital.” Peter tried to joke to lift his spirits, which didn't help much.

“Shut up, Pete.” Zeddemore slapped Peter on the head, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, guys, heading out. Only one person in the room at a time.” The head nurse entered the room. When Peter opened his mouth to argue, the woman frowned. “I don't want to know, rules are rules. Choose who stays. The rest is out!”

The Ghostbusters looked at each other and let Ray continue sitting next to you, leaving the room, still taking insults from the angry nurse.

“Sillies.” Ray rolled his eyes, still drinking his coffee, his other hand held your left hand, stroking it with his thumb.

“Ray?” His voice sounded weak, but it was enough for the man to look at you carefully.

“I’m here, y/n/n.”

"Where am I?" You tried to get up, but he got up first and didn't let you move.

“Hospital, you took a pretty bad fall, you know?” He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at you affectionately.

"My body hurts." You commented. “I couldn’t take care of myself, I didn’t deserve to be on the field.”

Your sigh hurt him.

"What? Of course you deserve it! This was an accident. It could have happened to Egon!” Ray replied.

“But it happened to me. He's faster. Maybe I should stay and just make lunch every day.”

“As much as I love it when you cook things that aren't spoons, I think now you have to get better to get back on the field soon. You are one of the best of us.”

For some reason, you smiled small, squeezing his hand weakly.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” The man sighed, stroking his face with one of his hands. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

"What you mean?"

“I thought I could never tell you…” he swallowed. It was now or never. He had even promised God that if you got better he would tell you his feelings.

"Tell what?" His face turned in confusion.

“I think it’s easier to show…” he took a deep breath and brought his face closer to yours, making you try to ignore the pain in your body and close the distance between your mouths.

His kiss was calm, of relief, of love. Ray's right hand cupped your face tenderly as he kissed you.

That was the moment the others decided to sneak into the room again as the nurse had left to sort something out.

"Finally!" Peter raised his arms and was slapped by the other three.

“Shut up, Pete!” You all exclaimed.

“Oh, I can never do anything.” Peter pouted and crossed his arms.

"No. You can't." Janine rolled her eyes and made everyone leave the room. "Sorry dear." She told you before leaving the room.

And that kiss was his best first kiss ever.

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (III)

Summary: You successfully convinced Eliza to stop the wedding. Unfortunately (or is it really), Eliza has come to a solution that she thinks would be best for everybody and it’s happening no matter what. 

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

As if by some miracle, he was still standing—even after you failed to convince Eliza how unnecessary a wedding would be. Now face-to-face with you on the altar, he still couldn’t believe how things turned out. This wasn’t�� supposed to happen in real-life. Things like these were the stuff of movies. Or anime. Or dating sims. 

Ace, Epel, Rook, and Riddle were freed at your request. They, along with Ortho, were now arranging the paralyzed students into chairs, since Eliza refused to let them move for disrespecting the “couple”. When you ran out of excuses, some heavily opposed the impromptu wedding. Idia knew why: he wasn’t the only one in NRC who liked you like that. He’d been aware of some schoolmates’ attempts to romance you for a while now. Really, all you had to do was pick a route. 

How did he know, you might ask? It’s not like he secretly researched and listed down his competition so he could keep an eye on them. 

Alright… maybe he did. Heat crawled up to his neck at the thought of anyone finding out. 

“So… we’re getting married,” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts. You spoke slowly, as if testing the words in your mouth. Like him, you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fake wedding just yet. You fidgeted more than usual—barely looking at his face or talking to him since you joined him at the altar. 

Were you thinking of the same thing? The inevitable kiss after you say your vows?

A weak hum was all he could manage. A smile appeared on your face, showing that you understood. You didn’t tell him to speak up; you never told him to. Somehow, the sight of that smile put him at ease like a recovery potion after a Despair battle ailment. It felt like another day in his room, the two of you hanging out and eating candy. 

“Nice suit, by the way.” 

“Th...anks?” Idia turned his head to the side. If he looked at you any longer, he might combust. Not that he didn’t already. Which was embarrassing btw.

You inched closer, making him gasp and jump back as multiple alarms went off in his head. Really… mind the Personal Space Bubble! Oh wait… that’s right. He’d stopped telling you off for getting too close long ago. 

Your face flashed a look of surprise, which quickly faded into concern as you observed him. When you whispered, your breath grazed his neck and ear. Hopefully his shudder escaped your notice. 

“You okay?” Immediately, you backtrack. “Wait, that was stupid. I know you’re not.”

“So many people watching...” he mumbled. His eyes quickly scanned the hall. “I can’t do this.” And he ended it there. You didn’t need to know how he felt about marrying you.

Again, you understood. Your smile faded and Idia found himself missing it immediately as it went. 

“Sorry, I...” you look down, fiddling with your fingers again. “I really should’ve tried harder to stop this.” 

Idia silently wished for dialogue options, because he didn’t quite know what to say to that. However, it looked like he didn’t need to. You took his hand and squeezed it, a determined fire flickering behind your eyes. 

“This’ll be over soon. Just hold on,” you said, squeezing his hand. “It’s just another quest, player 1.”

At the familiar nickname, he smiled in spite of his thumping heartbeat and everything that had happened. “Let’s do it, player 2.”

“Let us proceed with the ceremony!” Eliza, who had been watching the two of you closely, was eager for the wedding to commence. She clasped her hands in anticipation, looking no different from a normie watching a Rom-com. At her command, the wedding music played again—the same one as before. You gave Idia a look and shrugged. 

“Can’t believe we’re getting married to this music...”

“Sounds like doom, doesn’t it?” 

“Isn’t that what marriage is? Doom?” 

“Haha! E-exactly…” Normally, he would’ve agreed wholeheartedly. This time, he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how you felt marrying him. 

The ghost officiant returned to the makeshift altar (maintaining a good distance from you). Each NRC student who had the misfortune of attempting a proposal sat in a chair, watching the event. You smiled reassuringly, eyes sparkling like embers. 

“We are gathered here today to unite these two lovers in the bonds of matrimony,” the officiant begins. The darkness of the hall gave him quite a sight: the flickering flames of his hair illuminating your face in blue light. Seeing it, when in the safety and darkness of his room, made him feel this warm, fuzzy feeling he thought was reserved for 2D characters. 

“Do you, Idia Shroud, take … as your lawful spouse, to have and to hold from this day forward—for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, keeping yourself solely unto them for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer " I do". 

This’ll never happen in real life. “I do.” I don’t have a chance, do I?

Confessing would only ruin the bond he had with you. If it meant never losing your friendship, then this fake wedding would be enough. 

He looked at you, standing in front of him as you were about to say your own vows and silently implored Mnemosyne to burn this scene into his memory forever. 

“Do you take Idia Shroud as your lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward—for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer "I do."”

It seemed that you were doing the same. Idia faltered under the intensity of your gaze. “I do.”

“I now pronounce you as spouses. You may now kiss!”

Here it comes. CODE RED! CODE RED!

The way Idia’s face burned rivaled that of his hair. He was becoming hyper-aware of the snickers coming from his schoolmates. Seeing you made him worse—the corners of your mouth twitched and your shoulders shook as you fought back a laugh. 

“Hey! We’re about to kiss and you’re laughing?!” he cried, covering his face. “Kill me now.”

Just like that, your quiet and tender moment was gone. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Covering your face like he did, you erupted in giggles. Peeking out from the gaps of his fingers, Idia thought about #3 from the Signs of Attraction list he found on the Internet: 

“Another unconscious sign of attraction is mirroring, or matching another person's movements. When people are interested in one another, researchers have found that they tend to mimic each other's movements and gestures.”

Nah. Can’t be. He would have thought it was cute, if you weren’t laughing at his expense. 

“S-sorry! Your hair’s just—” another round of giggles interrupted you. “...burning really brightly!” 

“I can’t help it, okay?” he said, face red from annoyance and of course, the thought of what you were about to do. “Stop!” 

You tried to stop, but just the sight of his red face and hair sent you into another round of wheezing laughter. So hard you laughed, that an inhuman sound came out of you. Immediately, you stopped and looked at him, eyes wide. 

But it was Idia’s turn to lose it. 

“You… sound like… a Minecube pig!” he said, each word punctuated by uncontrollable peals of laughter. The wedding attendees had no choice but to watch on as you and your groom wheezed at the altar instead of kissing. 

“Baaya, what is wrong with them?” a confused Eliza asks. 

“I do not know, but it is apparent that they were made for each other.”

It wasn’t until the annoyed officiant cleared his throat that you and Idia stopped. You straightened up, wiping tears from your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. It was only then that your expression turned serious, but not without a few traces of your mirth from a few seconds ago. 

“Idia, we don’t have to—I’m really, really sorry about this, okay?” you whisper to him. “I know how much you value your firsts…”

“It’s fi—”

“...not that I’m assuming you haven’t had your first uh, kiss yet but—oh god, I uh… ” 

No dating sim—nothing could have prepared him for this situation. But strangely, laughing his ass off with you gave him a spark of courage that he rarely ever felt. In a moment, he would be kissing you. He hopes that courage lasts. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Idia surprised even himself with how steady his voice sounded.

“Oh…” 

You were still, staring at him open-mouthed for what seemed like a few minutes. He stared back, until you were forced to avert your gaze to the ground. Something told him that he was doing something right. A lone voice from the audience chanting “Kiss!” pulled the two of you back to reality. Someone was making an obnoxious kissing sound. Neither of you dared to look and see who it was. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” the ghosts joined in on the chant. 

Shyly, you lifted your head back up. “O-okay. Here goes nothing!”

He tried recounting how first kisses were described by people on the Internet, from his manga, and the countless dating sims he played. Some said there were fireworks. Some said it felt electric. Some described the feeling as the rest of the world falling away. One swore it made them feel like the ground disappearing beneath their feet and before they knew it, they were floating. 

Should he close his eyes? Which side should he tilt his head? Where does he put his hands? How exactly do you kiss? Questions, panicky thoughts, and movie kissing scenes ran through his head like a computer reading code. When you leaned in, someone pressed ‘mute’ on the sounds in the hall and all that was left was him and you. 

When you held his face in your gloved hands, it was Error 404. He let his eyes flutter closed. When everything went dark, all he felt was the shy, feather-light brush of lips against the corner of his mouth. Not quite on his lips, just dangerously close. 

Purer than a first kiss, but more than just a friendly peck. The students of NRC witnessed Idia’s hair at its most fiery just the same. 

~~

To be continued. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA Characterization hard

Hehe, hope you liked this. Part 4, the finale, coming soon. 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

The Savior Complex [Part 1 of 2] Game On [Chris Redfield x Female Reader]

A/n: shameless smut warning. Part one is an introduction.

The alarm sounds, engulfing the control room in a red hue as the cameras catch an intruder entering the elevator on the top floor. An image appears on the computer screen, and you snort in annoyance.

Redfield. And now of all times.

It’s been five years since you had seen him, two years to be exact, taking into account that you were in Louisiana when he went into the mines to arrest Lucas. You never spoke to him, but you left items – covered in lipstick kiss marks – for him to find.

It's no surprise that he found this place, an abandoned testing facility 95 meters below the North Sea and with a unit as well.

But he caught you at the wrong time. You were just about to leave.

Must he always put his nose in my business?

Chris is an irritant, a pest ruining the hard work you put into setting up negotiations and delivering data or virus samples to buyers across the country. It's an earnest living but pays well. Though not as of late.

And Chris is to blame.

It irritates you. The dealers you work for don't seem to care what Chris does or how close he's come to learning who they are; they don't even care about what will happen to you should he catch you.

He's not one to underestimate. But you have to admit; the chase is worth it.

Perhaps you'd even go so far as to say you have a crush on him. There's a pronounced sexual relationship brewing between you and him. Chris knows it. His eyes linger too long on you, and he doesn't put up much of a fight when he has you. It's like he wants you to choose him over your lifeline.

You wonder if he enjoys the chase just as much as you do. Too bad he has a target on his back; you'd sacrifice it all for him otherwise.

So, once you manage to separate him via a simulated outbreak from the rest of his unit, you trap him in the mountain region and use your key card to take the elevator up to the area floor, waiting in anticipation for him to arrive at the cabin.

When at last he does arrive, cursing under his breath as you wait for him to come further into the cabin, soaking wet from the artificial rain pouring outside, you seize the opportunity to sneak up behind him and point your handgun at his head.

Chris grunts and tenses up.

“Easy big man,” you tease. “Put the shotgun and the sidearm down on the floor; nice and slow for me, and don't give me a reason to put a bullet in your pretty head.”

Chris unholsters his handgun and kneels to do as you order, giving you a good look at his jean-covered ass. Once he leans up, you glide your hand across his chest, pleased with how his wet turtle neck sticks to his thick muscles. You take the combat knife from the sheath on his vest and toss it onto the wooden floor.

Easing around him, you nudge the guns from his reach with your foot, grinning as his curious brown eyes meet yours.

“What are you doing here?”

You laugh. “As if you don't know. Our paths always end up crossing at some point. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen.”

“I missed you in Louisiana,” he mentions. “But I got your gifts; real cute.”

You snort; he knows the color well. “You did me a favor and killed that idiot, Lucas, though I heard he almost killed you. What a shame that would have been.”

“He did enough damage,” Chris states.

You hum and shrug your shoulders. “Who Lucas killed is none of my concern. I collect the data and manage the sales.”

Chris gives you a dirty look. “A lot of innocent men died in those mines. Have you no––“

Anger boils your blood.

“I didn't kill them,” you state.

You weren't responsible for Eveline; those idiots aboard the Annabel couldn't control her. And what Lucas Baker did to his team was not on you.

“It's because of people like you,” Chris denounces. “Innocent people keep dying because you have no humanity. When are you going to stop this?”

How dare he. You shove the gun into his face.

“Shut your fucking mouth. You have no idea the hell I've lived,” you argue.

Chris grabs your gun hand and uses the other to snap your wrist back, forcing the barrel into the air. You grunt in pain as he wrestles the gun from your hand, sending it skidding across the floor. He spins you around and wraps his large arms across your chest, pinning you to him.

“Bastard,” you sneer, realizing that he upset you on purpose.

He knows how you feel about your role, that you hate being a courier for the black-market buyers, but he doesn't know how far you will go to keep this life. He can't change you.

You can't let him; you will go back to being no one.

Hitting him in the head with your elbow as hard as you can, you lock an arm around his neck and the other around his upper limb, taking advantage of his strength to push your body into the fetal position. You kick out your legs using the momentum to send Chris over you as you land on your ass on the floor.

You pick up his knife, crawling onto him as you shove the blade against his neck. The moisture on his skin seeps into your clothing, making you shiver.

“That was a low blow,” you mention.

Chris glares at you. “It's true. You don't care because you don't see the damage you've done. Hundreds of thousands of people have died because of you, and I know you don't want to do this.”

“I have to,” you argue back. “I can't turn around now.”

He grabs your knife-hand. “You still have a chance.”

Tears gather in your eyes.

“You can't save me, hero.”

Chris frowns. “Then I’m sorry for this.”

He brings a hand up to his ear and presses a button on a wireless headset that you must have overlooked earlier, then the door bursts open. Before you can react, a stun grenade hits the floor and goes off with a sudden bang, blinding you.

In those five seconds it takes for your vision to somewhat clear, someone grabs your arms and shoves you onto your stomach, strapping your hands behind your back. You struggle against them, but to no avail.

After images flash before your eyes and something closes around your mouth and nose. A sweet aroma fills consumes you, like the aroma of disinfectants. You hold your breath and kick, but after five minutes, the world around you fades to black.

[systlinsideblog]

PART 1

There have been many Ubaras in the history of Gor. Indeed, even today there are many, who rule this city or that land, sometimes alone and sometimes alongside mates. Our own beloved Ubara of Turia is well known as a fair and just lady, and a great patron of the sciences.

But forever when the words “The Great Ubara” are uttered, there will be no doubt as to who they refer to. She came from nowhere, and in her hands she brought power, and it was that very night that the beginning of the time of the Great Burning of the Whips commenced…

-Sansha, scholar of the Tower of Tyra, history division, 537 AGU (After the Great Ubara.) Excerpt from her work “The Great Ubara; the coming of Systlin, the Warrior, Lady of Swords, Lady of Burning Whips, and the ending of the slave culture of Gor.”

   It hurt, the...whatever it had been. One moment, and she had been preparing herself to ride out to hunt wraithen with her Bloodguard, and then there had been the scent of rising Power, sharp as the air before lightning, and the world had gone dark. 

When her senses returned, she had a splendid monster of a headache, and she could see nothing but tall bronzed grass. Her cheek was pressed against the ground, and every joint hurt. 

She blinked, blearily, and the grass came into slightly sharper focus. She was lying prone in a field, that much was clear. 

Systlin made an effort to push herself upright. Her arms trembled and gave out, and she got a mouthful of dirt and grass for her efforts. 

"Pitting hells." She spat dust and tried again, this time managing to rise to her knees. 

The grass rippled in the breeze, empty and endless. She spat more dirt and wiped her mouth on a sleeve. 

Something was niggling at the back of her mind, sending little alarm bells up. Wrong Wrong Wrong Wrong!!!

"Of bloody course something's wrong." She muttered this to herself. "Bloody fuck am I?"

The grass whispered in the breeze, rippling like a sea. She did not know this plain. 

She had walked and ridden through every land in the North, had ridden the southern deserts, had walked the walled gardens of Myr. 

She did not know this plain. 

Her hands dropped to her belt on instinct. The hilts of Ice and her dagger were comfortingly solid. 

Something's wrong something's wrong. 

She got to her feet. The motion was easier than it should have been. She paused, and bounced on her toes a few times, testing. 

Systlin Stellas had spent the majority of her life training her body into a supremely tempered tool. She knew herself well. And she knew, immediately, that her weight was wrong. Wherever she was, the pull of gravity was less than what she had been accustomed to for the last fifty years. 

"Pitting hells."

On the horizon, dust clouds were rising. She shaded her eyes to see, and could pick out dark moving figures, coming her way.

If Systlin had been in any doubt as to the wrongness of this place, the riders approaching her removed it. The riders were men, that was clear enough. But the creatures they were riding, while they resembled horses, very much were not. 

If horses had paws and claws like great cats, eyes set forward in their head, and fangs like a wolf, then perhaps they would look like the creatures the men were riding. 

I am going to flay whoever did this to me alive. 

She held her ground as the riders approached. Their beasts had caught her scent; that was clear enough. 

Perhaps fifteen feet from her, the men pulled their beasts up. They began to circle her, curious. Systlin tracked them, listening to the pad of those great paws in the grass. 

Finally one of the men spoke, and Systlin blinked. Because the words he was saying...the words themselves meant nothing. Systlin had been well educated as a child; she spoke eastern and western Northron fluently, and even the dialect from the Skyfire Reaches. She spoke Rabi almost as well, the less formal clan dialect as well as the formal, stuffy Myran form. (Sura claimed she still had a Northron accent, even after all these years, but also claimed to be fond of the 'exotic' way it made her sound. Systlin, therefore, had never tried too hard to lose it.)

She spoke Siulekean passably well. All in all, Systlin could make herself understood no matter where on Ellinon she found herself. 

And yet, these words were strange. And still, though they meant nothing to her ears, she felt a flicker of Power, and in the back of her mind she heard the words in her own native Northron. 

"Wench!" The taller of the two men, riding a mount of a handsome bay, was looking her up and down in a way that raised her hackles. "Look here! A wench who thinks herself of warrior caste!"

They both laughed. 

"I don't think it." Thirty years on the throne and fifty of dealing with the curse of her Power had given Systlin self control of tempered steel. She kept her voice mild. "I know it." 

She spoke the words in Northron. But the same little tingle of Power rose, and she saw the faces of the men register surprise. She grinned then, showing her teeth. 

"I want," she said, with all the command that an upbringing as a Crown Princess, commanding men and women in war, and thirty years on the throne had given her. "To see a witch." 

They looked at her for a heartbeat, and then as one both men threw their heads back and laughed as if what she had just said was the most wonderful joke. 

"A wench commands!" The man on the gray cackled. "You'll hold your tongue, wench, when spoken to. You are our prize, now." He grinned at her, leering. 

"No." Systlin said, voice level. "I will not, and am not. And if you call me 'wench' again, I will cut your tongue out of your head and make you wear it as a necklace." 

More laughter. "She's fire! I may keep her, Sathak, and break her to my collar. She looks strong; she could do much work in my wagon."

Steel whispered against wood and leather. Systlin shifted into a stance as easily as she breathed, sword and dagger drawn. 

"Wench!" The rider on the gray again. "Put those down; they are men's things. You are our captive now, and you will submit or die."

Systlin didn't move. But she grinned, showing her teeth again. 

They circled, closer and closer. Systlin waited. 

The hindquarters of the gray bunched. By the time it had sprung, Systlin was moving. 

They were nearly as fast as wraithen. Nearly, but not quite; the spring was much the same as the kind a wraithen would use to ambush prey. Systlin dropped low, and Ice swept up. The resistance of flesh, and then she was rolling back to her feet in a low crouch as the horse-creature went down in a screaming pile, its back legs tangling in its own spilled guts. 

A roar of rage from the second man, even as the one on the dying gray screamed in pain as his beast landed on his legs. The second rider roared in rage again, and his arm drew back and snapped forward. 

Systlin didn't bother to avoid the lance; it struck her in the shoulder, smarting slightly; it would probably bruise, but she didn't care. It glanced off of the wraithen scale armor hidden beneath her leather jerkin, and spun to the ground. 

"I told you." Systlin hissed this through her teeth. 

The man drew out a bola, and began to twirl it. Systlin narrowed her eyes, and despite her lingering headache reached inward. 

A flicker of blue, and the leather of the bola burst into flame. The rider screamed again, but it was too late; fed by Systlin's will, the flames spread from the weapon to his clothing even as the bola crumbled to ash. In but a moment, he was a pillar of flame, screaming piteously as flesh melted and hair burned, until at last rider and beast alike were engulfed. 

It did not take long for the witch-fire to eat flesh and bone to ash. Systlin banished the flames then. 

Her head throbbed. She should not have called on her Power so much so quickly, but she'd been angry. 

There was still moaning coming from under the downed, slain beast. She made her way over. 

The rider of the gray's legs were trapped. He was struggling desperately and fruitlessly to free himself, and when he saw her coming he spat a long string of vicious curses at her. 

Systlin ignored these as she stood over him and cleaned the blood from Ice. Sheathed it. She did not sheathe her dagger. 

"SLEEN! Whore! Witch! Misbegotten sleen spawn!"

"I am one of those." Systlin agreed. She crouched over him, near his head. "And I made a promise to you." She raised her knife, and smiled. "You should not have called me 'wench."

 Systlin had, rather than string the man's tongue on a thong, simply set it on his chest. He would likely bleed out or suffocate on his own blood; she didn't really care. 

She cleaned her dagger on the flank of the dead beast as he moaned and gurgled, trying to breathe through the blood in his mouth. 

She squinted, looking at the distant horizon in the direction the riders had come from. 

There was a cloud of dust there, some miles away. She had seen such clouds before, during her time with Sura's riders; it was the sort of dust cloud that came from many animals moving together. 

She began to walk towards the dust. 

It was a long walk. But then, Systlin ran ten miles every morning before she ate breakfast; she was well used to long marches. The lesser effort required to walk in this lower gravity meant that six miles felt like far less. 

She wished, all the same, that she had Siatch with her. A proper horse, not those fanged monsters. 

At last, on the horizon she saw the slow shifting of a great heard of creatures; as she drew closer she could make out what appeared to be wagons. 

Riders on those strange horse-things were circling back and forth and milling around. Some appeared to be playing. Her sharp ears caught the distant sound of laughter. 

As she drew nearer, several of the riders apparently spotted her; the peeled off from the camp and headed towards her at speed. Systlin kept walking, doing a mental count. 

Ten thousand. Perhaps more. She squinted at the wagons, spreading across the plains as far as she could see. 

She kept walking, unhurried, unworried, even as the riders closed. Ice and her dagger were a comforting weight on her belt. 

She smiled to herself suddenly, remembering Sura's consternation when she'd announced her intention to go to the Iron Mountain and the sabbashin. 

"It is suicide!" Sura had said, fearful. "No one comes back from there, beloved, with their mind their own. The Master of Knives takes them, and makes them his creatures, body and soul. I could not bear that for you." 

"Sura." She had smoothed Sura's hair. "You forget what I am." 

Breaker. 

She'd brought down the Iron Mountain. She'd Broken the walls of Myr. She had the power, she knew, to level this whole bloody camp if she so chose. She could feel it curling in her blood, cold and eager, a promise of sheer glorious ecstatic destruction. 

She kept walking, even as the riders on those strange beasts closed on her, lances ready. 

 Kamchak and I were conversing over a midday meal of bosk liver and cheese when the furor at the edge of the camp began. The girl Elizabeth, sulking in the corner of the wagon, looked up at once. There was the sound of a kaiila screaming in pain, voices shouting, and there! The ring of steel.

Kamchak and I were on our feet and running in but a moment, but I was puzzled; the Tuchuks were unruly, it was true, and small skirmishes often broke out, but these were usually settled in ritual combat fought on foot, not with kaiila. This left a raid, and who would ever be foolish enough to raid the main tribe of the Tuchuks? Such was certain death.

Yet, even as we ran along with many other men, there was another pained scream from an injured kaiila, and a cry of pain from a man. The smell of charred flesh drifted on the air, and a plume of smoke. There was a great confusion of shouting, and I could not make out any single voice in the furor.

We came around the corner of a wagon. Now I could see down the wide grassy lane that ran down the middle of the camp, to the source of all the furor. I expected to see a war band, or even a whole attacking tribe.

I did not expect what I did see, which was a woman.

She was standing over the corpses of three kaiila and at the least count seven riders. She held a sword in her right hand, and a long dagger in her left. Her legs were spread, planted into a fighting man's stance. I noted that she stood with excellent balance. 

Her hair was dark, and her eyes quite blue. The hair was pulled back into a plait down her back, and the eyes were cold. There was a fey light in them, and I noticed to my great unease that the corpses of two of the slain riders at her feet were gently smoking. 

She was splashed and spattered with blood, and did not seem to notice this or care. 

She wore a leather tunic, and trousers of wool. Her boots were leather, and fit close to the calves; I noted, that the shape of calf and thigh was sturdy, muscular. Her forearms were lean, wiry, corded with more muscle than I had before seen on a woman. 

The slaves and Tuchuk riders and dour Tuchuk women were silent. To my abject shock, though the Tuchuk warriors greatly outnumbered her and stood with weapons drawn, they were hanging back. 

As I looked past her, I saw at least three more dead kaiila and more corpses of warriors further from camp. 

The woman spoke. In the oddest way, though the sounds she made were gibberish to my ears, understanding came nonetheless. 

"I said." Her voice was cold, and commanding. "That I want to speak to someone of power. And for the fifth time, I am no captive, or slave, and the first hand to get near my ass is forfeit." She jerked her chin at the corpses near her feet, as if to emphasize her point. "And if you keep insisting on doing things the hard way, I will be quite happy to kill every bloody man in this bloody shithole and burn this camp down around your ears, I swear on  the Lady's name. I have had a very bad day, and it would honestly be a pleasure. But if you can help me to get home, we'll forget this whole unpleasant day ever happened."

It occurred to me that she was attractive, if far too muscular for Gorean tastes. 

"Who is this wench!" Cried Kamchak, "Who thinks herself a warrior?"

The blue eyes of the woman darted to him, cold and furious. She should have, were she sane, been terrified at the looming mass of Tuchuk warriors, fierce and scarred, that were gathering before her. Each was gripping his lance, but the caution of their brothers had spread and they hung back to a man and looked to Kamchak.

She did not look frightened. She looked angry, but the anger was wrong. I am used to the anger of women; it burns hot and passionate and rules them. This look, though, was one of cold and measured anger, restrained and absolute.

"The last man to call me that," her voice was low, and despite her sex the hairs on my neck and arms stood up in warning, "Drowned in his own blood after I tore his tongue out. What is wrong with you people?"

"Kamchak," said another of the Tuchuks nearby, his voice low in warning. "She is but a woman, but she has killed fifteen of our warriors, and thirteen trained kaiila. She is a sorceress." He pointed to the smoking corpses of riders. "She can summon fire from air, and fights like nothing I have seen. We should fetch Kutaituchik." 

Kamchak looked back up at the woman, eyes narrow. She met his gaze, fearless, chin up and eyes narrow. 

"What are you called, sorceress?" Kamchak asked. 

"Systlin Stellas." Her voice was still cold. 

"Very well. We will take her to Kutaituchik. Sheathe your weapons, woman, and follow me." 

She eyed the gathered warriors, and then spun her sword. It was a neat little motion, well practiced. I knew it; I used a similar motion to flick blood from the blade of my sword before I sheathed it. This was, indeed, precisely what she now did, but the speed of it was startling.

The long knife and sword slid away into sheaths of rich leather of impeccable quality. The fittings of each were gold. I saw more than a few Tuchuk warriors eyeing them greedily, and thought that the warrior who claimed them would strut them about for a very long time.

“What I said holds.” She said, coolly. “Any hand laid on me, I take off at the wrist.”

Kamchak laughed. “You’ve fire, woman, I’ll grant you. Almost enough to make me think it would be worth the effort of collaring you.”

“If you’re so keen to die,” She said, her voice colder still. “Go on and try.”

He laughed again, but his eyes were narrow. “Fifteen warriors?” He asked.

Systlin raised her eyebrows.

“Hadrak says that you killed fifteen warriors of the Tuchuk.”

“He’s mistaken.” Systlin’s voice was still level.

“Ah!” A look of victory in Kamchak’s eyes.

“I killed seventeen.” A slight pause. “I am assuming those outriders on the bay and the gray were of your tribe?”

Hadrak hissed in fury. “Oman and Hadar!”

“Yes, I thought so.”

“Oman was my brother! Kamchak…”

“I said we would take her to Kutaituchik.” Kamchak said. “And that is what we will do. No doubt Kutaituhcik will see your case, but she may be given to the brothers or kinsman of any of the others she has slain to be punished as well.”

“Will I?” Systlin sounded almost amused, and I realized that she was of course quite mad.

“Of course you will. This way.”

“Yes.” Her voice dripped scorn. “Of course I will.” But she followed, and around her closed the ranks of the Tuchuk warriors at her back. She was now quite trapped; even the greatest of warriors could not hope to fight free of the main camp of the Tuchuks; they boasted three thousand warriors of great strength and skill.

I wondered if she would be collared, or simply killed. She was attractive, if too strongly built, but a master could monitor activity and diet to remedy such things. She was, no doubt, fiery and strong-willed, but such women, it is said, make the greatest and most passionate slaves once broken.

Ah, well. The only way to find out was to follow, and so I did.

[mel-the-fangirl]

Toss A Coin to Your Witcher (Part Three)

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 4,365

(Part 1, Part 2)

Happy Holidays, Cavillry! I really truly hope that you all had some socially distanced fun! Here’s a little gift from me to everyone. I really hope everyone enjoys this last part to this miniseries as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Warning: I have never written anything even remotely close to smut and this story gets a teeny bit smutty so please be gentle with me.

Please like and reblog or leave some replies if you liked it!

Taglist: @novareign1, @libbymouse, @calwitch, @soldade, @happiness-in-the-dark, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @wolvesandhoundshowltogether, @zealoushoundrancheclipse, @seanh-boredom, @speakerforthedead0, @rn7rocks, @writingforhenry, @weallhaveadestiny, @suueeeeeee

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“Because. We kissed."

Kissed.

Did you hear him right? Did he just say you kissed? You two kissed? And you didn't remember? 

Just the thought of it made you dissolve into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

A valiant effort on his part, truly. He really looked frustrated and confused that you didn't remember. What a brilliant actor.

"Phew!" you brushed the tears from the sides of your eyes and rubbed your nose with the back of your hand

"Right! As if I would ever forget kissing someone like you.” you gestured to him from head to toe, “Specimen.”

“Alright,” he crossed his muscular arms against his equally muscular chest, “I am one hundred and ten percent sure it was you and I’m not about to let you change my mind, madame.”

The challenge was clear in his voice and honestly? It was really hot, his whole stern and smug vibe actually made you forget that you were trying to defend your honour. 

How could he just look like that? All tall and handsome and muscular? It threw you off your game. He looked like he was God's favourite. 

"Aren’t we going to dinner?" you asked, now openly staring at his eyes

"Oh, god. Of course, you must be starving. I apologise." he dropped his proud stance and immediately grabbed your coat from the rack

Henry graciously helped you put it on, his arms lingered around you just a tad bit longer than needed but it was all very good.

Something must have caught his eye as he stepped away from you. He gave you a small smile and made a move to lean in. 

Oh, was this happening now?

Okay, sure. What the hell right? Since he claims to have already kissed you before maybe he needed to be reminded. 

You could do that. You knew how to kiss, you’ve kissed people before.

As he leaned in, the smell of his cologne invaded your senses. It was musky but also floral. Combined with his naturally clean, fresh scent, you could just picture yourself on a leisurely stroll with him in a field somewhere, the pristine air carrying the scent of earthy wood and spring flowers all around you. Henry would be gazing at you adoringly and he’d be in a soaked white shirt even though it was a sunny day.

Armed with that picture in your mind, nothing could go wrong. You were definitely feeling it.

You tilted your chin upwards, leaning in to meet him halfway, more than ready to feel those luscious lips on yours. You shut your eyes, just to make it more romantic.

His arms wrapped around you and you went in for the kill.

That’s when the worst possible thing happened. Well, perhaps not the worst thing but this was pretty fucking close.

Instead of the soft lips you were expecting, your lips met the soft material of his sweater.

Yes, that’s right. His sweater.

You, Y/N Y/LN, had just planted a big ol’ smooch on Henry Cavill’s sweater.

Your eyes snapped open and you wondered what you did so wrong in your past life to deserve this. How could you have misjudged the situation so wrongly?

The second Henry felt the tiny amount of pressure on his shoulder, he knew he fucked up. He had no idea why he didn’t just tell you that the collar of your coat was sticking up, why did he feel the need to straighten it himself? Now, what was he going to do? He didn’t want to embarrass you.

But, it was a little too late for that now, wasn’t it?

You both stepped away at the same time, seeming to look at anything else in the room but each other. It was nice of him to also feel embarrassed on your behalf but, you felt like everyone the world over was cringing out of their skin from secondhand embarrassment.

“So, dinner?” Henry offered you his strong arm, grinning at you like nothing happened

Was it possible for him to be even more perfect? As you looped your arm through his, you found out that it was.

---------------------------

The expansive cityscape was laid out before you from the secluded trellis covered terrace of the restaurant he chose. The view was beautiful, the lights of the city sprinkled across buildings, homes, and streets, the inky black and blue sky stretching far beyond.

Gazing out at it should have made you feel calm, at peace. But you were a bundle of nerves. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that you’d be on a date with Henry Cavill and you wouldn’t have imagined that he would be accusing you of forgetting that you shared a kiss.

“Look,” you rested your arms on the table, looking at him as seriously as you could without getting lost in his eyes, “I swear, if we really did kiss, I would remember.”

Henry studied you quietly amidst the hustle and bustle of the restaurant beyond the French doors. It was endearing to him, how quickly you would sometimes switch from confident assertiveness to awkward fumbling.

For you, it was a test of endurance to look past the god-given good looks and focus on trying to anticipate what his next move was.

Turns out, it was one in your favour.

“You know what? I think you’re right.”

You almost did a spit take with your wine. Thank God you weren’t wearing anything white.

Okay, act cool. That should be easy, right? You were an actor after all. Just be cool. Relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw, stop sweating.

"I must've been mistaken. I truly apologise." 

He looked so sheepish, you actually reached over to put your hand on his. You tilted your head and gave him an understanding smile. A wave of relief washed over your body and to Henry, it showed. Your rigid posture finally loosened and you even managed to lace your fingers through his.

"I totally get it. I mean, with our jobs? We meet dozens of people everyday, it's not hard to be confused."

His heart leapt into his throat at the contact, it felt like his entire arm was covered in live wires but he would endure it just to savour your hand in his.

"Let's focus on our date, yeah?" 

"Yes, absolutely," you nodded enthusiastically, "Please. Tell me all about you."

"Oh, but I'd rather hear about you."

You were flattered, really. But just in case this was never going to happen again, you needed to get him talking and sponge up as much information as you could.

"And you will, but let’s hear about you first.”

He wanted to argue but you were already looking at him expectantly and despite your short time together, he was already struggling to say no to you.

So, he talked, and talked, and talked, much more than he’s ever dared to talk in his whole life. And you listened, absolutely captivated by his eloquence, his intelligence, his passion, and his wit. Not to mention his voice, deep and silky and hypnotising. Why people thought he lacked personality was a mystery to you.

“I do love theatre,” he explained with a mouthful pasta. It was adorable, no questions asked. “I wish I had that courage and longevity to just deliver every single night for months on end.”

“I actually started out in theatre.” you nodded your head as he widened his eyes at you questioningly. “Yup. I did a decent run of The Tempest at the Yard a year back.”

That’s when the ball dropped. Time seemed to stop for Henry, his drink hovered in the air just as he was about to raise it to his lips. It had finally made itself known, his smoking gun. He faltered only for a second before masking his triumphant smirk with his wine glass.

One harmless little question out of his mouth had you turning as red as the cherry tomatoes artfully scattered in the salad that was set before you.

“Ah, yes. Didn’t you play Miranda?”

You stopped stirring your iced tea and furrowed a brow at him.

“Yes. Yes, I was. Did you catch a show?”

“I did. I was at the opening night after party as well.” he enunciated this part slowly and clearly, hoping that your eyes would spark with recognition

But they didn’t.

“Isn’t that a shame. We could have done this earlier if we crossed paths that night.”

Henry pursed his lips and nodded, mildly disheartened but nonetheless, he pressed on.

“I do recall meeting you though.”

This again? 

You huffed and set your utensils on your plate. You laced your fingers together and looked him in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes.

“Okay. If that is the night in question then I will admit that I… may have kissed someone but it wasn’t you.” 

“Well, well, well…” he raised an eyebrow at you and you instantly coloured

It wasn’t one of your finest moments and you figured you would never have to dig that memory out of the vault but here it was.

“I know how this sounds,” you shook your head disapprovingly at him, “But it’s not. Okay. On God, it wasn’t you.”

Henry nodded yet again, narrowing his eyes at you. The silent treatment and judgy look he had on forced you to keep talking, which probably wasn’t the best idea.

“It wasn’t you, Henry. Okay? It was just some random dude in a nice sweater and a signet ring or something.”

Alarm bells started clanging in your head as your eyes swept over your dinner date. Nice sweater, check. A signet ring resting on his pinky, check.

“It wasn’t you.” you repeated in more of a whisper, more to convince yourself than anything else

Throughout your debate, bits and pieces of that night started to come back to you. The most embarrassing part came to mind first, it would probably be your saving grace but, did you really want to tell Henry Cavill what you thought you did?

“Am I really that bad a kisser? That you felt the need to completely erase it from your memory?”

His tone was joking but you could see in his eyes that he was a little bit hurt. It was going to be a cold day in hell if you were going to be the person to make Henry Cavill doubt his skills in the kissing area.

“I kissed a male prostitute that night, okay!” you yelled out in exasperation

Thank God your table was situated on the terrace or else a restaurant full of people would have been in on your little secret. As your voice echoed off the walls, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. How much embarrassment were you going to endure?

“A male prostitute?” Henry repeated slowly, clearly having a difficult time processing this new information

“Yes.” you groaned, leaning back in your seat and covering your face with your hands

---One year before---

The curtains closed to thunderous applause, whistles and standing ovations. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.

Did that really just happen?

You looked around at your castmates and wrangled them into a group hug.

“Did I really just do that?” you asked Marge upon meeting her backstage

“Yes, you did! Now go on and get changed. It’s after party time.”

With that, she sent you off with a smack on your ass.

You’d only known Marge for a few months since you arrived in London but you liked her already. It’s not like you had a choice though, really, she was the only one you knew.

“How about that one, that one over there?” Marge slurred, shoulders knocking into yours, less than discreetly pointing out some guy in the crowd of party goers

“Shh! Marge!” you giggled, more than a little tipsy yourself

Opening night was a smashing success, it was your first ever gig anywhere, really. You were so nervous the entire time, you thought you were doomed to fuck up and forget your lines or something but that moment never came.

“HEY! REVIEWS ARE OUT!” someone yelled in the crowd

“Here we go.” you murmured, knocking back your drink and tugging Marge along

The huge crowd gathered around your director, who was standing on a stool. It was a tight squeeze since a good chunk of the people who came were already hammered. Someone from behind shoved you forward and you rather inelegantly fell into the arms of the man next to you.

“Whoa there.” you could just make out the deep velvety voice above the murmurings of the crowd

“Oh, God, I am so sorry, I-” you trailed off when you finally laid eyes on your rescuer

Oh, wow.

You couldn’t decide which feature to focus on first. The captivating eyes that were a shade of blue that your alcohol-soaked brain couldn’t even comprehend, the strong chiseled jawline you needed a protractor to measure, or the perfect stray curls that fell onto his forehead?

Decisions, decisions.

“Are you alright? You almost fell.”

Goosebumps broke out on your arms as he helped you stand upright.

God, he was handsome, an observation you thought you had kept to yourself.

The tall man chuckled, still holding on to your forearms, “Thanks very much. I’m He-”

“And Y/N, my incomparable Miranda!” a booming voice interrupted him from the front of the room

“Fuck, that’s me.”

You broke from his grasp and fought your way through the crowds, leaving your hero looking out after you.

“Newcomer Y/N Y/L/N’s performance as Miranda is the glittering centrepiece to this refreshing, masterful take on an enduring classic,” the director read aloud, allowing the crowd to raise their glasses to you

You smiled at everyone, inadvertently meeting the eye of your tall handsome man.

When the crowd dispersed, you and Marge found yourselves back at the open bar, eyeing up every guy that passed by.

“Y/N, you’re on the fast track now. You killed tonight, now it’s time to pick your prize! How about that one? In the corner? Looks tall, shaggy hair…”

“Marge, that’s a ficus.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that other ficus has been looking over since we set up camp here.” 

You followed the tilt of her head to the same guy from earlier, the achingly handsome one. He raised his glass to you and you waved sloppily back. It was the alcohol, okay? Open bar, what were you gonna do?

Marge whistled low, sizing him up from head to toe, “Y/N, that’s a male prostitute if I’ve ever seen one and I have seen a lot of ones.”

The fry you had chomped down barely made it halfway down your throat before coming back up again, “What? No! Marge, he’s not.”

“But he is. Y/N, that man is tall, hung, and handsome. There is no man that tall, hung, and handsome that isn’t either an actor or a male prostitute.”

“Tall, hung, and handsome.” you mumbled, raking your eyes over him as discreetly as you could

In your inebriated state, you completely forgot to ask Marge why he couldn’t have been an actor. Why did her mind immediately head for the strip club? And why did yours follow suit?

“Imma go and bag myself a stripper, Marge. Okay?”

“Yes! Use protection!”

Before strutting off or more like stumbling off, you downed some more booze which probably was not as good of an idea than you thought. Not even halfway to him, you decided that you were teetering in your heels a little bit too much, so you took them off.

“Oh. Hey there.” the same silky smooth voice from earlier greeted you

“Ah, fuck. You’re tall.”

Looking up at him made you dizzy, like standing at the top of a giant skyscraper and looking down at the very edge.

He chuckled and you watched entranced as his face just lit up like Christmas. You decided then and there that you would like to kiss the Christmas, very much so indeed.

The liquid courage in you was really doing its job. You took his hand and dragged him away from the party. This was fine, wasn’t it? It’s not like he was complaining, he looked rather amused actually. Things like this probably happen to him a lot in his line of work.

“Well, now you have me, what are you going to do with me?” he asked teasingly once you two were tucked away in a dark corner

The combined effects of the excessive alcohol, the high of your first successful job, and the way this sinfully handsome man was looking at you made your next move the easiest thing in the world.

You balled the front of his sweater in your fist and tugged him down towards you. He was too tall.

Who on earth was this ballsy, clumsy, beautiful, talented stranger?

Henry didn’t get the chance to ask before his lips came crashing down and immediately, wildfire. 

A shockwave of frenzy ran through his body, he needed to feel you. He was all hands and lips and ragged breaths. His lips traveled down the smooth path of your throat, nipping and sucking as he went. You were putty in his hands.

“Jump.” he growled

You did as he asked and he latched his hands underneath your thighs and planted you against the wall. His lower half pressed into yours and you knew that Marge was right. Your hands raked through his hair and you reveled in the feel of him, strong, confident, in charge. His large hands made their way to your bottom and he squeezed gently.

A breathy moan escaped your lips and you knew you needed to have more of this man. Your fumbling hands made their way to his belt buckle but he set you down on your feet and held you steady.

“What..?” you whispered, suddenly disoriented

“I really should take you on a date first.” he panted

Sober, you definitely would have taken him up on his offer, male prostitute or not, but you were far from it and your head was still spinning so you thought you’d shut your eyes for a while and have him catch your unconscious form.

With you over his shoulder and your shoes in one hand, Henry made his way to his car and drove you safely home, relying on the satnav and your slurred directions.

He laid you gently in bed, brushing the hair away from your face. You snored in your drunken sleep and Henry smiled at the sound.

This was an encounter he was sure he would remember for a long time.

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“Well, that was me,” Henry nodded his head with his bottom lip jutted out. “Exactly as you remembered it.”

Tall, hung, and handsome, huh? That wasn’t anything new to him. He’s been described using far more… graphic detail, if his time searching his name on Tumblr was anything to go by. But hearing it come from your mouth turned him several shades of red.

You, on the other hand, had no words. Again. But you figured that it was all Marge’s fault.

“So, I suppose I was right?” he confirmed, unable to contain the self-satisfied smirk on his face

“Uh, yeah,” you sighed, absolutely exhausted from your little trip down memory lane. “Yeah, I guess you were right.”

Slowly, you met each other’s eyes. A moment passed before you both dissolved into fits of laughter.

“Do I look like a male prostitute? Did I exude that kind of energy at the time?” Henry guffawed, shoulders shaking

“God, I don’t even know how I thought that! I was super drunk, okay?” you covered your face with your hands, mortified and extremely amused at yourself

The laughter died down and you were left gazing at each other fondly. Dessert had long since been over and the night went on, the candlelights on your table and scattered around the quiet terrace intensified the feeling that was passing between you.

“Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and settled on your lips. Unlike all the other times today, you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t feel like you were about to make a fool of yourself, you felt completely calm.

“Would it be alright with you if we picked up where we left off that night?”

Ever the gentleman. You smiled and made your way over to him.

“Hi.” you made yourself comfortable on his lap and you laced your arms around his neck

“Hello, there.” he whispered against your lips

It was probably not the best place to do this, in a restaurant where upwards of twenty people were just beyond the terrace doors but you were in your own little world.

You were endlessly thankful that you were sober for this, you would never forgive yourself otherwise.

When his lips finally met yours, you wondered how on earth you ever forgot such a feeling. It was gentle and soft, as most of these things start, his thumbs caressed that apple of your cheeks then he laid a chaste kiss on each.

You breathed long and hard as his hands splayed on your back, pushing you closer to him. His warm tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip before exploring your mouth, the taste of you mixed with the subtle taste of wine was exquisite and he wanted more. He drank you in, holding you flush against him.

“Wait.” you took his hand and led him to the far side of the terrace to an alcove enveloped in a curtain of lush vines

“When did you spot this?” Henry asked, breathless as you sat him down and straddled him once again

“On the way in.” you had the audacity to blush

“You had plans for me already?”

“A girl always comes prepared.”

Nothing would ever prepare you for the sight of his full length, once his trousers were lowered, it was over for you. Henry took control by shoving your underwear to the side and impaling you onto him. You inhaled sharply, screwing your eyes tightly shut.

“Are you okay?” he struggled to control himself, having you quivering on top of him was severely testing his restraint

“Yes. Please. Move.” all you could manage were monosyllabic answers

And move he did. It should be illegal to be this good.

The night air was cool but you were both slick with sweat, you two had lost your tops a while ago and Henry’s tongue swept across the valley of your breasts and marked his territory everywhere he could. His thrusts were enough to bruise you but you never wanted anything more than to feel him.

“Henry,” you gasped out as he continued to hit that spot that made you see stars

He could sense that you were close, you were tightening around him and gripping him like a vise. 

“Let go, lovely.” he whispered in your ear, committing the way your face twisted into a mask of pleasure and desperation to memory

You rode him furiously, the sound of your flesh colliding over and over again mingled with your hoarse moans, you were certain that someone would hear you but at that moment all you cared about was reaching your peak and with Henry Cavill at the helm?

His large hand clamped around your mouth as you came, you writhed and arched your body uncontrollably as his thrusts became more erratic. He pulled out of you and began to finish himself off, he did not expect for your hand to join his and he did not expect to come so quickly once it did.

“Jesus.” he panted, reaching over to smooth your hair out of your face

You shivered, suddenly very aware that you weren't wearing anything at all. Henry helped you dress quickly and wrapped his own coat around you, rubbing some heat into your arms.

When you refused to look him in the eye the entire ride back to your flat, that’s when Henry started getting nervous.

It’s not like he could ask you if you enjoyed it? I mean, he could but that would make him look like an amateur and he would really like to think that he was no amateur in that area. So instead, he took your hand as you stood in front of your door. 

“Y/N, I would love to do this again. The date, not the sex- I mean, I would like to have sex with you again but that's not what I'm after-Holy shit."

Oh, how the tables have turned. 

Henry rubbed at his face with a hand and sighed, "Do you think you'd like to see me again?" 

"Do you think you'd like to stay the night?" 

Both of you asked your questions at the same time and you both looked taken aback at them.

"What makes you think I don't want to see you again?" you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him

"You were silent the whole car ride?"

He looked so unsure and a little afraid that you couldn't help but squeeze him. How could someone be both heartbreakingly handsome and adorable all at the same time? 

"I was just summoning up the courage to ask you to stay the night!"

"Oh thank God."

He swept you off your feet and threw your door open but, you didn’t end up in bed (you’d get there later), you ended up in the same place you started, on the couch, with him spectating and occasionally helping out as you played Witcher 3.

The next morning, you woke up to a text message and a forwarded article from Marge,

“HOW BEING A STAN GOT Y/N Y/L/N HER MAN”

YOU TWO ARE EVERYWHERE. CHECK IT OUT!  I TAKE CASH, CHEQUES, AND LAVISH GIFTS. YOU’RE WELCOME.

A muscular arm gently wrapped around your bare waist and a tender kiss was pressed onto your shoulder. You looked back at your handsome bedfellow and smiled.

You’d take a look at it later. Right now, you had better things to do.

[ktheist]

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. 

synopsis. 

sit still, look pretty. 

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

x

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

x

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?” 

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-” 

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

x

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

x

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

x

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins. 

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man  back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

[bullyhunter--69]

"She's so sweet, really."

Pairing: Izuku x fem!reader

Summary: When you and Izuku started dating, you were as happy as could be. He was beyond sweet and caring, and helped you forget about the bad in your life. But after he introduces you to his mother, Inko, and you start to be a more frequent visitor at the Midoriya household, you realize it's starting to take a bigger affect on you than you thought it would. Why can't your mother be like that?

Tw: mentions of family issues/absent family/family death, bottling up emotions and eventually breaking, a stressed Izuku, ends with soft fluff

A/N: This turned out so much longer and more angsty than planned but I'm really proud of it, tell me what you guys think! 🖤 (This is also my first ever angst written so--)

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Today was a beautiful fall day. Colorful leaves fell around you, the sky was tinged with a deep orange, and the soft grass beneath you made your time all the more comfy. You were snuggled next to Izuku beneath a huge tree on campus, who was currently going on and on about his latest quirk findings. The goal you guys originally had set was to review for the upcoming test, but the topic quickly shifted to Izukus day once your fingers intertwined with his and you inquired about it.

"-and so then once I asked Mr. Aizawa about it I found that- Hey.. are you okay (Y/N)?" You really were listening, but had found that you zoned out. Izukus concerned, soft voice brought you back to reality, and a small smile crawled it's way onto your features. "Yeah 'zuku, I'm all good.. I just was thinking about some stuff and was focusing on your voice. It always helps." You ended your reply with a squeeze of his hand, which all together resulted in his face blooming into a shade of deep red.

"Well, uh.. T-thank you, I'm happy to help!" He stuttered out as he felt butterflies all throughout his body. "Oh, also!" Izuku started, turning his body to face you more, holding your hands in his lap with a nervous look in his eyes. "(Y/N), I was wondering.. we've been together for a bit now and I.. I want my mom to meet you."

As soon as the word 'mom' reached your ears, you tensed up. It was always a sensitive topic, even if it wasn't your parental relationships in question. You knew Izuku had noticed, as the hold on your hands got tighter. "I understand if you're scared or nervous but I know She's gonna love you! She already says you're really pretty and smart just basing off what I've shown her.. she really is looking forward to it, and we don't have to stay long if you don't want to." The gentle rub of his thumb on the back of your hand and the puppy dog eyes was enough to soothe your nerves. If Izuku talked so highly of you to her, and if she was anything like him at all, you figured it wouldn't be that bad to meet her. She would be your mother-in-law someday, so you might as well get it out of the way now and not later.

When the day finally came, you were beyond nervous. The thought of meeting Izuku's mother and her not liking you made a wave of sickness and dread fill every inch of your body. Whether it was a friend, or a boyfriend, meeting mothers always gave you a bad taste in your mouth. It brought back all the feelings that you tried desperately to hide away and fight daily.

See, you were almost fully open with Izuku, but there was one thing he didn't know. Your family, to put it bluntly, was shit. Your mother always belittled you for every single little action you ever made and everything about you. Nothing was ever good enough. As a small child, it was always under-the-table, backhanded compliments with passive aggressive undertones, but after the passing of your father, it turned into raw, brutal words. She was never proud, and never actually loved you, she just used your desire to be a good daughter against you. It was cold, hard, manipulative behavior which resulted in you finally refusing to talk to her after you got accepted into U.A. The mental gymnastics you had to go through to hide all of this, especially from Izuku, was taking a toll on you. You never talked of family and never left the dorms, and had an.. unusual amount of luggage stored away in your room. It seemed like you packed your entire life up in a suitcase and ran.

Which is essentially what you did.

As bad as it sounds, you never planned on telling your love any of this. You just needed to forget all of the childhood trauma you were put through and focus on showing your mother she was wrong. Everything she said about your quirk being useless, to you being intolerable and a bad daughter, would be proved wrong. But, the biggest thing you planned to show her? Is that your father would be proud. She always used him against you, and you'd be damned if you wouldn't prove that point the most ridiculous of them all.

A soft knocking on your dorm brought you out of your deep thoughts, and your gaze slid to the door. Your hands shot to your face and you quickly dried your tears. "O-one second, I'm still changing!" You knew in the pit of your gut that it was Izuku coming to pick you up, and your thoughts were confirmed when you heard him on the other side of your locked door. "Alrighty baby, take your time!" God, he sounded so sweet.. this was hell keeping from him, but it kept him from worrying.

The night went on so much better than expected, and it genuinely surprised you. You had never met a woman as sweet as Inko was. She cooked your favorite food and had your favorite drinks, and even baked you your favorite dessert. She asked about how you were doing in school and once the topic of your quirk was brought up, she was beyond ecstatic to hear you talk about it. She even added on how she felt it would be useful in battle. The night was amazing. Nothing felt real, it all was like the fantasies you made up while lying in bed at 4am sobbing, so sleep deprived you almost can't move to get ready for your class that starts in just a few hours. It's what you've always wanted in a mom-- a beautiful, sweet woman who cares.

Why can't your mother be like that?

As the weeks went on and Izuku kept inviting you over for weekly dinner and game nights with him and Inko, you found it harder and harder to conceal exactly how much your mental health was struggling. Yes, you absolutely adored both your loving boyfriend and his equally loving mother, but it was just so fucking.. hard. Every smile she gave you, the loving, motherly twinkle in her eyes when she talked to Izuku, the amazing dinners, the endless support for both of you, the pictures she insisted on taking of you and Izuku-- it was all too much. You started to dwell on this every single night, and resent yourself for how much anger and jealousy you felt. This wasn't right, but you couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault that your mother hated you for every fiber of your being and Izuku had the best mother imaginable. He was your boyfriend, you should be happy.. right?

You didn't realize how hard you had been sobbing until there was a hushed yet firm knock on your dorm door. The tears that blurred your vision made it even harder to read the clock on your nightstand through the pitch black room you sat in, huddle up in a pile of blankets, All Might plushies and Izuku's hoodies.

9:54 p.m.

The pain that was radiating through your torso from the wreck you had become from however long you had actually been crying was torture. It felt like needles were being shoved into your lungs and your heart was being squeezed in a vice grip. Breathing felt impossible. Your throat was raw. But the thing that hurt the absolute worst, out of everything?

"(Y/N)? Baby, please let me in.." Little Izuku's voice sounded like the biggest bomb going off, the jiggle of your door knob making emergency alarms go off in your head. There wasn't any possible way to get out of this, and this might just be your biggest fear. Facing those soft emerald eyes and that sweet smile that has been open and honest with you over the entirety of your entire relationship, and even before. Telling the love of your life all the trauma you've endured, and then willingly decided to hide from him. No.. it's the disappointment that you're positive will shine through his features that's truly your biggest fear.

You don't know how long he had been listening, but one second was more than enough for you to know Izuku wasn't going to leave. He loved you endlessly and never left without making sure you had a smile on your face. So, with limbs that felt like cement, eyes that felt as if you were crying spikes, and an aching heart, you got up and made your way to unlock the door. It took a minute-- your hold on the cold knob firm and extremely hesitant.

3... 2.. 1.

Finally, Izuku had enough room to gently push your door open, and his breath was taken away when he saw you as the golden light from the dormitory hallway illuminated your entirely wrecked appearance.

Bloodshot eyes, make up filled tears streaming down both checks, snot dripping down to you mouth. The cuffs of his hoodie that covered your shaking body were soaked in black, wet mascara. Your hair was messy and tangled. You were.. broken.

After taking in every little detail of your appearance, a struggled gasp last your body when his arms were suddenly around you. The touch of his warmth around you was electrifying, and instantly brought you to your knees. As Izuku shut and locked the door behind him, still holding you in his strong arms, he sighed softly. "What's wrong?"

These are some of the only words that you really didn't want to come out of his mouth. They stung and tore through your heart like the sharpest of blades. They made you regret not opening up sooner, his tone overflowing with worry, fear, and dread. You knew not to make eye contact, but you couldn't even if you wanted to. Once those words entered your ears, soft and delicate as if you would shatter into a million pieces if he spoke too hard, another strangled sob was unleashed out of what felt to be your core.

"S-she's just so sweet.." Your voice, although strained and crackling, came out with an emotion Izuku had never heard from you before. A mixture of jealousy, rage, disappointment, and disgust is all he could pick out, but it sounded like something was hidden beneath it all. Something that you didn't know how to express, so emotions just came seeping out of you in the easiest way.

Picking you up was an easy task, as your body had long ago given up the fight to stay standing. The sweet boy made his way to your bed and sat with you cradled to his chest, your nose tucking away in the crook of his neck instantly to breath in his scent. It calmed you-- he calmed you, but you couldn't help but to shamefully pull your head away and look across the room.

"(Y/N), you have to tell me more. Who is 'she'? I want to help you.." His voice still held a delicate tone, his fingers combing through your hair with one hand and the other still holding you tightly. After what seemed like forever of Izuku just holding you and letting you cry every single ounce of emotion you held in your body out, your sobs slowly came to a stop and you took a soft, shaking sigh.

It was time to come clean.

"'Z-zuku, I'm sorry.." You started, slowly and steadily while trying to steady your breath further. The gentle back rubs from his warm hands helped sooth you, and gave you the strength to continue.

"I haven't been exactly.. truthful with you." As you took a second to find your words and sniffle, you could sense Izuku tilt his head to the side curiously. "You always ask if I'm okay-- if I'm happy-- and I always say that I am. I love you so incredibly much and you do make me feel happy and safe and welcomed and-" Your ramble was cut off with a kiss to your temple, which was a silent signal of Izukus trust and time.

"Because of how incredibly happy you make me, I dont want you thinking that this is your fault at all. Its mine.. I shut you out and bottled myself up when I should have just told you in the first place. I just.. don't know how to say it other than to say it outright."

Your shakey tone made Izukus heart race even more. He was staying calm and supportive on the outside but on the inside, he was a wreck. He was currently going over every single one of his actions, words, and notes that made what you and him were-- absolutely scraping the bottom of the barrel for anything and everything he could have done wrong. That stuff, though, was shoved deep so he could help you, because that was what was important right now.

"I don't.. Izuku, I love you and I love your mother so incredibly much. I feel at home with you guys but it's just so hard. Seeing how sweet and caring she is, how She's invested in both of our lives, how she.. s-she said she loved me.." You body was quickly starting to shake again, so Izuku pulled you in closer. "Why can't my mother be like that?"

There it was. It finally clicked in Izuku's mind. Everytime you avoided the topic of family, how you never had pictures with them, how you never had a place to go to during break, how every day after spending time with him and Inko you seemed drained the next morning as if you had stayed up all night.. it clicked as to what might be wrong, and his suspicions were confirmed when you continued.

"M-my mother hates me and she has my entire life. I have never received an ounce of love or respect from that filthy woman and it's always on my mind. Her degradation and her mocking laugh and her hideous presence. She used my dead fucking dad against me to make me feel like I'd never make it in this world and I just-- I-I want to escape the horrible memories but I can't. I just want a mother like yours.. it's what I've always wanted and I don't understand why I had to be the one stuck with a dead dad and a mockery of a mother. Seeing how absolutely amazing your mom is fills me with love and happiness and a sense of home I've never gotten before but at the end of the day, it just reminds me of how shitty my life was up until I got to U.A. I don't have a mom. I don't have a home. And its not fair that I'm upset over the fact that you having those things happens to remind me of that. I'm sorry."

Izuku was speechless. His comforting ministrations had stopped and he just looked at you. Even with the pitch black void that was your room, his emerald eyes shined bright.. and brimmed with tears.

"I.. I had no idea, baby, I'm so sorry.." Izuku was choosing his words incredibly carefully. He held nothing against you, nor was he upset or disappointed at you. He was a person that could put himself in someone else's shoes very easily and see through their eyes, and your emotional monologue was enough to paint your story for him. He just wanted to comfort you and show you everything was okay.

"I don't want you to be sorry, there isn't any need for you to be. You can't help what your mother put you through, and how horribly unfair to you that it was. Nobody can control how others actions affect them-- it's just how humans are.." Strong arms turned your body to face him, your limbs wrapped around his torso and your cheeks gently held in his hands. As tears streamed down his cheeks, he stared deep into your eyes. "You're so strong and beautiful, and I understand as much as I can. I love you so much.. Baby, to hell with her. I know it's hard, but she doesn't have to mean anything to you anymore. Me and you, and mom, can be our own family. We're your home now.."

A sob managed to choke it's way out of your throat, but this one was different. Your head fell into Izukus neck and you held him as tight as you possibly could, soaking his chest with more snot and tears. His arms held you back just as tightly as he peppered soft butterfly kisses along your hairline. This is how you stayed for the rest of the night until you calmed down and passed out on his firm build. Laying back softly, Izuku tucked you both in and kept his tight hold on you.

"Goodnight, love.. You're home."

[h2bakugou]

Hey, I saw requests were open and got realll excited I wondering if you could do a little angsty/fluffy scenario for Bakugou where it's his s/o's birthday and him and the class starts ignoring her but their actually trying to surprise her?

a/n: hiya!! awe this is super cute and soft, and i think it’s time to break out soft bakugou again, skfjdskf thank you for the request hun!!

summary: with your birthday coming up, you half expected bakugou to at least send you a text but when it seems like the entire class is constantly avoiding you, you can’t help but feel a little bummed out, that is until...

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

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Waking up the day before your birthday was always a little nerve-wracking. You were a little anxious to see if anyone would notice. It wasn’t like you expected a big grand celebration, but you’d been stressing, even a little upset since you asked Bakugou if he would be free the day of, to which he declined.

You were almost certain he knew of your birthday, you know you've at least mentioned it a few times to him, and his mom, who has stated multiple times that she wants to have you over for cake or whatever you’d prefer the weekend of your birthday.

You were about ready to just go celebrate with Bakugou’s parents since they seemed to be the only ones who remembered, the text that had come through earlier in the morning furthering your proof of Mitsuki’s knowledge on your date of birth.

What stung a little more than the fact that Bakugou hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that your birthday was tomorrow, was the way he didn’t even think it was within the week, or even the month.

You wouldn’t have been nearly as upset if maybe he’d guessed the date wrong, but now things were just starting to make you feel upset.

It didn’t feel like something you should be so upset over. You felt a little selfish, wondering why something so small, such as acknowledgment of your birthday from your boyfriend, was bothering you so much.

Deep down, however, you were excited. For your birthday. And the warm feeling of birthday wishes, from anyone, especially your significant other, always felt ten times warm and fuzzier inside.

But you trudged on, went to class, and tried your best to keep a smile on your face. Even during lunch, Kaminari, who seemed to do nothing but run his mouth, was quiet.

Everyone was. It felt, strange.

And now, you were wondering if maybe it was something deeper. Had something changed during the week? Were you not caught up? Why did it feel like everyone at your lunch table despised you, Bakugou leading the group as he barely even looked at you when he was sitting right beside you.

But when the day was over, you didn’t even bother sitting in the commons until most everyone went to bed. You finished your homework early and sat in your dorm, trying to cheer yourself up. 

And as the clock passed midnight, you wished yourself a lousy happy birthday before tucking yourself into bed.

Nothing prepared you for what was to come when you woke up.

The ear-deafening alarm on your phone woke you up to nothing. A blank screen. One single notification about a software update on your phone. You hadn’t expected your parents to text you this early, they were probably still in bed.

Their messages came in around the time classes started.

But getting dressed and meeting up with Bakugou, you tried your best to hold your head up high.

“Hey ‘Suki.” You smiled, standing beside him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave the dorms to head to school.

“Hey.” Was all he said. You nodded and sighed, staring at the ground.

“Today’s gonna be a fun day, don’t ‘cha think?” You tried to hint at the topic but nothing seemed to give.

“What, you think tests in algebra are fun?” It was like a slash to your heart.

“No, it’s my birthday.” You whispered, gathering your things and walking away, walking straight out the door to the school.

Bakugou’s heart stung. In truth, he’d arranged a whole party for you. Everyone was kind of shocked to hear the words ‘I need your help’ come from his tight lips.

He was flustered and trying not to kill Kaminari who was already making fun of him. But he’d arranged the whole thing, planning it out down to a t.

He’d asked for everyone, especially Kaminari not to say anything about it, and he didn’t think much of it. But now his heart hurt, watching you fight back tears as you felt like he’d forgotten, as if everyone had forgotten.

Bakugou wanted to chase you down, pull you into a kiss, and wish you happy birthday, but he didn’t. The surprise would be coming up soon enough.

Sato presented the cake he’d made the night before and everyone was shocked to see how beautiful it looked.

“Oh, she’s gonna love it!” Mina cheered, helping the class pull out some of the decorations.

They’d be tasked with putting up decorations during lunch and after classes let out when Bakugou would keep you in the library for at least another hour.

Bakugou would make it up to you in the end if you still felt upset. But he was counting on this being the best damn birthday surprise, especially since he thought of it.

You were the first one to class. Slumped in your seat, you noticed Present Mic walk in.

“Happy birthday! Would you like a super awesome birthday track played on my show tonight?” Mic was genuinely surprised to see you break down crying after saying something so happy.

“You’re the first person to tell me happy birthday today.” You wiped your eyes, embarrassed to be sappy in front of your teacher.

“Oh, well then an extra special happy birthday! If you’ve got a song you’d like to play, just stop on by the studio!” Mic smile before exiting. You couldn’t think of a song you’d want to broadcast to the entire school on Mic’s radio show but if something came to mind you might just have to stop by, he seemed like he could be pretty fun to party with, if maybe he weren’t your teacher.

The thought of spending your birthday moping alone with one of your teachers didn’t sound at all like the dream you’d had about today. 

No, you wanted to be hand-in-hand with your boyfriend talking a walk through a pretty park, or stargazing under the night sky, or spending time at some sort of amusement center with your class, having fun.

But as students piled into the classroom, not a single happy birthday left any of them.

Not even Bakugou who now knew.

Getting through class was about as fun as watching paint dry. But when it was done, everyone rushed out, leaving you confused.

“Where is everyone going?” You asked, stopped by Bakugou who’s hand landed over yours on the top of your desk.

“Hell if I know.” He stared down at you, books in hand.

“You don’t wanna go with them?” You looked away, pulling your hand out from under his.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot.” You mumbled. Bakugou tugged you along to the library, silent the entire way.

Sitting across from him, you didn’t even have a clue as to why you were here, but not even thirty minutes later you were being tugged right back to the dorms.

“What’s your problem?” You stop, about three minutes away from the dorm.

“Huh? The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Bakugou stopped, his hands slung in his pants pockets.

“It’s my birthday Katsuki. And I told you that earlier, and you couldn’t even remember for a couple of hours? Am I that forgettable to you?” You sniffled, staring at him as your eyes began to sting with tears.

“I was busy. Had to focus for all that work.”

“And you still avoid saying it! I just, I just wanted to hear it from you. Is it so selfish of me that I just want to hear my boyfriend tell me happy birthday?” You felt like digging a hole and crawling into it. 

With shut eyes, squeezed so tight so you couldn’t see anything, you felt a hand land in yours, fingers intertwining with yours.

A finger under your chin lifted your head up, tear-stained cheeks and all, and a warm pair of cinnamon-tasting lips landed on yours.

“I never forgot, dumbass. I just wanted today to be special.” Bakugou whispered against your lips. Suddenly his free hand landed over your eyes as he tugged you along, your hands now gripping at his arm.

“Hey! Wait, what’s going on?!” You shrieked, confused as you moved unconsciously.

“Just hush for five seconds.” Bakugou sighed, pulling you up to the dorms, shoving you inside.

Removing his hand, Bakugou landed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes opened.

Your once rapidly spinning world was now standing still.

“Happy birthday!!” Your peers cheered. Familiar faces of your classmates, friends from Class 1-B, the Big Three, Eri, even Mr. Aizawa, and All Might were standing there in cheesy party hats.

“Wait...” You sniffled harder, tears now pouring from your eyes.

"Ah, don’t cry, idiot!” Bakugou shook your shoulders from behind you.

“I thought you all forgot! How could I not cry?!” You wiped your eyes with both of your hands, trying not to laugh at yourself.

“You can thank your boyfriend for the party! We were all gonna get you gifts but Bakugou suggested a party!” Kaminari finally blurts out.

“You were all so quiet, because of this party? And it was all your idea?” You turned to Bakugou. He sighed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

You gave him a big hug and pressed a cute kiss to his cheek, earning a few ‘awes’ from some of your peers.

“Thank you. Thank you all.” You tried to stop crying, but it felt impossible. Bakugou just nodded, ushering you to go and give some people hugs.

The festivities lasted pretty much all evening, from opening gifts to eating the delicious cake Sato baked for you.

You had a fun time with everyone, and after thanking everyone for the time, you sought after Bakugou on your way back to your dorm with all of your things.

“I’m sorry. For earlier.” You apologized, feeling a bit embarrassed for seemingly going off on him.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for acting like a dick. I just wanted to surprise you with the best fuckin’ party.” Bakugou’s intentions weren’t vile, and you couldn’t be mad at him. You shook your head and pulled him into your dorm as you set your things down.

“Can we watch a movie together, and cuddle? I think I could take that as an apology.” You smirk.

“I know you’re not mad. But if that’s what you want.” Bakugou gets into his usual position, under your covers, waiting for you to join him. You stood speechless.

“Wh- I went off on you! Of course I was mad- But- I-” You huff and crawl into your bed beside him.

“You’re not still upset is what I’m trying to say, dumbass. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” Bakugou kissed the top of your head. You snuggled into his side and smiled.

“You really planned that whole party just for me?” You looked up at him as he selected a movie to watch.

“I wouldn’t be the best fucking boyfriend if I didn’t.” He said smugly.

“All for you. And I would do it again.” Bakugou glanced down at you.

“Because you deserve it. I love you.” Bakugou mumbled his ‘I love you’ a little softer, but you heard.

“I love you too.” You lean over and peck his lips, smiling as you snuggle into him, ready to unwind after having so much fun.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[tsukishumai]

pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader

tags: fluff, strangers to lovers

word count: 2.2k

Summary: You think of all the different versions you get of Atsumu throughout the day

Nights with Atsumu were unpredictable. Your heart always skipped a beat whenever you received one of his “are you free tonight?” texts, excitement never failing to course through your veins.

Miya Atsumu was an adventure.

He had been that way from the very first night you met him, crashing into him at a music festival your friends had dragged you to.

You had been lost for the past hour - separated from your group when you had mistakenly taken the wrong turn while trying to look for the restrooms. You’ve tried calling them time and time again, but the sheer amount of people at the event must have been doing something to the phone lines. None of your calls or texts were going through.

You mumbled a hurried apology, and you could practically feel the way he raked his gaze over your appearance. Though, there was nothing presentable about your current state; your hair (previously curled and styled carefully) was pulled up into a messy bun, dirt from the festival grounds stained your shoes and pants, and the expression on your face was nothing short of stressed.

“You lost, hun?” He had asked. While you would usually cringe at the pet name coming from a strangers mouth, the slight drawl of his accent made it sound sweet, and you couldn’t help but nod.

“It’s my first time coming to this festival - I have no idea where anything is.”

He nodded in understanding. “It can get pretty confusing if ya don’t know what you’re looking for,” he sighed out, reaching a hand out for you to take, “Come on, I’ll help you find em.”

Even then, having known the man for merely two minutes, you were never hesitant in taking his hand.

He quickly told his own group of the current situation, setting up a meet up spot for the end of the night in case Atsumu wasn’t able to find his way back to them in time.

(That was smart. You guys should have done that.)

You wondered why the blonde boy bothered to take the time out of his night to help you. Hadn’t he spent his own money to be here with his friends?

When you had asked him this question, he simply shrugged. “It wouldn’t be right of me to leave a beautiful girl all alone and lost in this huge festival now, would it?”

You didn’t find your friends for the rest of the night. You had instead spent it with Atsumu, jumping from stage to stage, claiming “maybe we’ll find them there?” but really, his favorite artist was up and he didn’t really want to miss it.

It shocked you how natural it felt to be with him; easy conversation flowed naturally, and the initial mission of his company was quickly forgotten, replaced instead with the dizzying thrill of his fingers wrapped around your wrist to make sure he didn’t lose you in the crowd.

“This is my favorite band,” he yelled into your ear, twirling you in circles as you danced along to the beat pummeling out of the speakers.

“I can see why!” You smiled at him, and the freedom you were feeling in that moment, dancing with a stranger that was quickly becoming a friend, was a better high than any drug.

Atsumu couldn’t dance at all - this was something you had pointed out during the second set you had watched together - but there was something in the way he just stuck his tongue out at you and continued to flail his limbs in some semblance of a rhythm with such confidence that you couldn’t help but find charming.

“Y/N!”

The frantic crying of your name made you whip your head around, and you see your best friend running over to you.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You let your best friend scold you for going missing for four hours, pushing down the feeling of embarrassment as Atsumu snickered at you.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” you said, turning to him one last time before finally joining your original pack.

“Anytime,” he smiled, then pulled his phone out of his pocket before handing it to you, “Mind returning the favor some day?”

The grin on your face was brighter than any of the lights surrounding the stage, quickly entering your number and saving it.

It wasn’t even two days after the festival before you received your first invitation out from Atsumu.

There were nights when he took you out to his favorite bar on a Thursday night because shots were 2-for-1 on Thursdays. The two of you would always run into more than one for Atsumu’s friends, and you were more than happy to allow them to indulge you in one or two embarrassing stories of Atsumu. The smile on your face grew wider each time his blush would deepen, and you didn’t know you could find him more endearing than you already do.

There were nights when he would whisk you away to a secret spot in a part of the city you had never been to. “It’s a little bit of a hike,” he’d warn you. You’d have half a mind to reprimand him for letting you wear your new shoes knowing the path would be dirty, but you were shut up by the views. Atsumu came prepared with a blanket to lay down on, taking out snacks and drinks from the backpack he was carrying. Your heart clenched at his thoughtfulness, laying down to stare at the stars peppering the sky. “The moon looks really full,” you said. “Yeah, just like my heart is for you,” he cooed. You would share a laugh, shoving him slightly, but hoping with everything that he meant it.

There were nights when he would take you to visit his brother’s onigiri shop. He would always take you either at closing time or after, ensuring that the three of you had the place to yourself. You could feel this to be some sort of test - test of what, you weren’t sure but you knew you wanted to pass it. Osamu would bring out off the menu flavors, using the two of you as his test subjects. You and Atsumu would exaggerate your judgements, commenting as if you were judges on Top Chef. “The consistency of the rice provided a good mouth feel,” you commented, rubbing a hand on your chin. “The flavors meld together perfectly, creating a refined taste suitable for any palate,” Atsumu replies, and the two of you would burst out laughing, Osamu rolling his eyes and asking you to be serious.

It was after one of those nights, belly and heart full from the nonstop eating and laughing. Atsumu walked you all the way up to your door, saying it’s much too late for you to be on your own. With your key in the door, you turned to say your good bye, only to be met by the softness of atsumu’s lips.

Nights were when Miya Atsumu let you into his world.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Afternoons were rarely spent with Atsumu.

You would think that sharing an apartment with the blonde setter would afford you more quality time, but he mostly spent his afternoons chasing his dreams.

You’ll never forget the afternoon the two of you had found out he had made onto his first pro-volleyball team; he was officially an MSBY Jackal. Happy tears were shed, on your part, but more so on his. Excitement stamped all over his face as he claimed he still had so much work to do.

You never held it against him when he came home late at night, the only interaction you’d have would be the kiss he placed on your forehead before climbing into his side of the bed. You didn’t mind that even though you were now living together, this was the most time you two would spend apart. It wasn’t like you were just waiting around; you had a job you loved and were dedicated to.

He never let you missed him too much, though.

“Are we almost there?” Atsumu gasped out, and you just threw your head back and laughed.

“What’s wrong? I thought volleyball players were supposed to have monstrous thighs or whatever?”

Atsumu grumbled. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t exhausting to scale a damn mountain!”

“Always so dramatic,” you mused, skipping ahead of him on the trail. Atsumu had a rare day off from practice, and insisted on doing whatever you wanted for the day. He was hoping you were going to say ‘let’s cuddle and stay in!’ Or ‘I want to go to that cafe I saw on Insta!’

But no, you went with “I want to go on a hike!”

It was his own fault, really. Ever since he would take you to look at the stars, you made it your mission to find all the little gems in your city.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna faint,” Atsumu placed the back of his hand on his forehead, “Please tell me we’re almost to the top!”

You grabbed his hand, pulling him up the last few steps of the trail.

“Ta da,” you sang out, out stretching your arms to present the view from the top.

Atsumu took on a deep breath and looked at the view. From the top of the trail, all that surrounded the two of you was the color green. Green leaves from towering trees that covered the face of the mountains that surrounded you. Green shrubs that littered around the forest floor, creating a lush carpet of foliage that stretched as far as you could see. In the space between the mountain ranges, Atsumu could see a hint of the ocean that lies beyond, and he could almost taste the salty air that always made his hair wavy.

The beauty of the earth surrounded him, reminding him of life flourishing all around, and all he could really look at was you.

The color of your eyes that sparkled like uncut gems when caught by the golden rays of the sun that was now nearing its highest peak in the sky could rival the most vibrant green nature could produce. The smile on your face was more blinding than the summer sun. All he could see was the beauty of the love that he knows only you could give him.

Afternoons were rarely spent with Atsumu, but he’s thankful for every chance he gets to be part of your world.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Mornings with Miya Atsumu were lazy, and intimate.

The habit of early mornings were hard to break, and regardless of whether you set an alarm or not, the both of you would stir awake at the crack of dawn.

You could feel Atsumu’s heated breath on the back of your neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Good morning,” he would mumble, voice still thick with last nights sleep, dripping into your ears like fresh honey.

“Good morning,” you would reply back, turning around to bury your face into his chest. You loved the way he would always pull you closer, as if there was no wya you could be close enough, trying to fuse you into his own body. You don’t care that you can’t really breathe in this position - there was no where else you would rather be.

Though you were willing to stay that way forever, it was only a matter of time before life interrupts peace and demands to be lived. After a few more soft kisses placed on any bare skin lips could get too, maybe a few fingers brushing through your rats nest of a hair, Atsumu always was the first get up out of bed. You’d try to beg him for a few more minutes, but he’d make you laugh and say “I’d love to doll, but my bladders bout to burst all over our sheets,” and you can’t do anything but laugh and let him go.

Atsumu always showered first since his days started earlier, and you would make your way downstairs to make coffee for the both of you. You usually drank it black, but you made Atsumu’s with a little extra cream. He never asks you to, but you always packed him a lunch and snacks to take to practice, leaving little notes with words of affirmation to get him through the day. The look of pure admiration and love you get when you simply hand him a lunch box, thermos, a peck on the lips, and a prayer for safety; you think this must be true happiness.

You walk back up to the bathroom to start your morning routine, and feel warmth spread all over when you see that he’s set up your toothbrush on the sink with a glob of toothpaste on top and a little cup of mouthwash prepared and ready for you to use.

You loved Miya Atsumu at all hours of the day, but mornings just might be your favorite.

In the morning, Miya Atsumu was just for you.

[jtsfavslut]

Falling [G.D]

Description: Just when Y/N thought she was over Grayson, he pops back into her life, making her wonder if you could fall for the same person twice. Inspired by ‘Falling’ - Harry Styles. 

Warnings: None, Just sad stuff lmao!!!

Word Count: 4K+

Also a special thanks to cole [ @blazedgraysons​] for keeping up with my annoying ass questions while I wrote this, and for helping me and giving me advice I love you <333

   Her small feet carried her body down the familiar street, cars zooming past her as her body softly bumped into the others around her. The loud sounds from the environment being blocked away by the soft, yet loud music that was coming out of an old pair of Airpods she had gotten for Christmas back in High School.

This was Y/N's daily routine. Get up early in the morning, do her business in the bathroom, get dressed, and walk over to her favorite cafe. The Beachwood cafe had become Y/N's second home ever since she moved to L.A, spending most of her time there, before and after class.

A smile lit up her face as the familiar blue door came into her view, a content sigh falling past her lips as she got closer to the door.

The strong smell of coffee hit her nostrils as she walked inside, music being paused as she walked fully inside, giving her attention to the cashier that greeted her every morning, "Hi Y/N, your stuff is on your table," she smiled up at Y/N before pointing towards her usual table.

It was the one by the window in the corner of the shop, the bright yellow and blue floor illuminated her small journey to the table, where her coffee and breakfast sandwich happily waited for her to approach. She sat down, hand reaching into her Yellow Kanken backpack, another Christmas gift from high school that she dearly took care of, she pulled out a brown journal and a pen.

A journal filled with memories and random thoughts that popped in her head. Y/N thought writing things down was good for the mind and body. She believed that writing things down would help you keep your thoughts safely, and lock memories into place without overworking your mind. A pen that has been through many journeys on the same yet different page.

All pages were the same until the pen went over it, recording things until the end of time. They were all the same until she wrote down her thoughts for the day.

Her small hand gripped onto the pen as she wrote down her thoughts from the previous night, coffee cup in the other hand as she slowly sipped the liquid.

Last night I thought of him again, just until I drifted off. I don't know why. It hasn't happened in months. Nothing bad, just a memoir of all of our memories together. Like the time we broke into the school's pool one night. Where he pushed me in with all my clothes on, then he jumped in and we made out by the stairs. Funny how we never got caught since cameras were around us. Or when we had our senior trips to the mountains in Colorado, and how he kept sneaking into the girls' room just to be with me. We were lucky we didn't get caught again. I tried to not keep thinking about him. I know it's time to finally drop it and move on, but how? How do I erase all those memories from my brain? How am I supposed to just drop it and move along? Just how? I don't need or want to know why just how.

She softly slammed the notebook closed, right before she could feel a slight burning in her eyes and a rock starting to form in her throat. The subject of her and a past lover that she was still holding onto, still being a deep wound to her.

She thought about and remembered Grayson every day. After all, he was her everything during her entire High School life, and he still was…...sort of.  Grayson and Y/N started dating in the 9th grade, right about in the middle of the year. He asked her out behind the school's bleachers during lunchtime, a mixture of flowers from his mom's garden that she shyly accepted from him after she said yes. That was followed by their date to the movie theater, where he held her close to him every time she faked being a little scared, not that he could tell, and three dates after he officially asked her out where she said yes again, and that was followed by an accidental kiss, he was leaning towards her cheek when she accidentally moved her head to the side, causing his lips to land on hers. Neither of them complained, just smiled at each other and carried on.

They went on for 6 years, all of high school and two college years, where he decided to break it off because of distance. He went off on how being across the country from one another was hard, and the fact that the time difference from New York to California was 3 and 4. She didn't complain. Didn't give a reason as to why not, even if she had trillions of them. She didn't try to change his mind. She simply said okay, and wished him the best. She still loved him though.

The words that her grandpa had spoken replayed in her brain every time she questioned why she still thought about him; "You never stop loving anyone sugar, you just kinda love someone stronger. If you stop loving them, then you never loved them to begin with" She thought about that, and that made her feel better. Maybe there was someone out there who she would love more than she loved Grayson.

With a quiet sigh, she put her journal away, switching it with a book she picked up at the library a few days prior, yet read a million times.

To Kill A Mockingbird is a book she read many times in school, mostly everyone has. It's the one book from school she actually enjoyed, so she picked it up from the book shop down the street from her apartment before work one day, and didn't get to read it until now.

She opened the book with a small smile, the sensation of the book against her finger bringing nothing but happiness to her, and took her mind off whatever was bothering her. She lost herself in the book, almost done with half of the book before her alarm rang, signaling it was time for work. She left a 20 on the table after putting all her stuff away in her backpack and walking out of the shop and towards her job which was a paid internship at a local hospital downtown, all she did was watch and help out with minor cases like cuts, sprains, X Ray's and the occasional stuff like questioning. She entered the hospital, sanitizing herself and changing into her uniform, walking over to her area, that being the Pediatrics Emergency room where her boss, mentor, whatever you might want to call him, Dr. Reyez, and the rest of the team were waiting for her.

"Morning everyone," she chirped at the tired yet awake health care workers, who all had smiles on their faces. "Morning Y/N, you're going to be practicing by yourself today, can you handle it?" Dr. Reyez asked her, which she just nodded her head with a smile. There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in her brain.

"I'm pretty sure yes! And I can just reach out to you guys if anything, right?"

"Yeah, just page us if anything. Your first patient should be here soon, just go wait by the desk," Reyez instructed her and that's exactly what she did. She sat on the desk for over 20 minutes until someone came in with a toddler covered in rashes.

"Hi baby, I just need to ask you and mommy a few questions, yeah?" She sweetly and patiently asked the 5 year old as his mom was filling out some papers, to which he just nodded his head.

"Okay, Xavion, did you eat something new today? Maybe something you've never eaten?" She asked and both the mom and son nodded their heads.

"Do you think he was allergic to something?" The mom asked, causing Y/N to shrug.

"Well, it depends. We need to get an allergy test for him. It doesn't hurt or anything, we just scratch and pour a drop of the allergen over it and see how they react. Mom, do you happen to remember what he ate today for the first time?" She replied by recording some notes down on her clipboard before telling a nurse to get an Allergy Antibody Test ready.

"He ate everything that he usually does except for some broccoli I gave him," the mom replied and Y/N nodded her head before writing it down on her clipboard and walking them to the testing room.

Once the results came back around half an hour later, Xavion was, in fact, allergic to broccoli, and other things that Y/N had to explain to the mother. She got about 15 minutes of break time before Reyez called her another minor emergency.

"It's an 11 year old, possible breakage or sprain to the leg, you can handle this one right?" He asked and she nodded her head, "Good, they're in room 217, good luck," he added before sending her off to the room.

She quickly made her way over to it, grabbing her clipboard on the way, "Hi, I'm Dr.Y/LN, I'm going to be taking care of you guys today! May I have the child's name and date of birth please?" She nicely asked as she walked inside the room, quickly walking over to the desk area that was in the corner and placing her stuff down.

"Uhhh, Caleb Dolan, August 17, 2008," a deep voice that she could recognize from anywhere spoke as she turned around. Her heart dropped at the sight of Grayson in front of her. She tried to reassemble herself, after all, she couldn't make any mistakes right now, Reyez was trusting her and she couldn't afford to mess the opportunity up.

"Caleb, August 17, 2008," she mumbled as she wrote it down on her piece of paper, "Caleb, do you mind telling me what happened, babe?" She asked with a smile on her face. Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked up at the boy who happened to be in pain.

"Me and uncle Gray were practicing for the soccer game that's next and I fell on the mud and hit my leg really hard," he explained as she walked towards him nodding her head.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, One being okay while 10 being the worst, how would you rate the pain?" She asked, walking over to the walk to grab a pair of gloves, putting them on, and walking back towards him.

"Uhh a seven," he replied and she nodded her head.

"Okay Caleb, just know this might hurt a little okay? It's just protocol to check if it's dislocated, broken, or sprained okay?" She asked and he nodded his head, a few tears falling down his face from fear. Grayson quickly leaned down to wipe off his face whispering a quiet 'you'll be okay' as Caleb grabbed his hand.

"Can you try and move your ankle for me? Just try and move it," she explained and he muttered at quiet yes before moving his foot in a slow circle, she nodded her head before placing both hands over his ankle checking for any bumps, which there were none to find, "Luckily for you Caleb, it's just sprained! There are no bumps meaning it's not dislocated, and you can move it meaning it's not fractured! Just to make sure, we're going to need an X Ray' just to make sure there are no hidden surprises yeah? Dr. Lindsey will do those with you, and I'll be right here when you come back," she smiled up at the boy before Dr. Lindey moved him to a wheelchair and took him to the X Ray room, leaving Y/N and Grayson alone in painful silence.

"So this is what you do? This is where you work?" Grayson was the first to speak after a couple of quiet seconds,

She cleared her throat and nodded her head, placing her hands inside her white jacket, "Yeah. It's a paid internship so it's basically a job, what about you? What are you doing here?" She asked to make direct eye contact with him.

"Moved here after me and E graduated, looking for some roles and an agent," he spoke, his voice not as deep yet shakier than when he first spoke.

"Any luck with that?"

"Yeah. We've landed a few small roles here and there," he answered and she just nodded her head.

"That's good! I'm glad everything's working out for you," She gave him a genuine smile before continuing to fill out Caleb's paperwork.

"Listen, I know it's been 2 years but-," Grayson began to speak before Y/N cut him off. "-Grayson just don't. I'm at work right now, and it's enough seeing you after 2 years, but I don't really need this right now. I'm sorry," She apologized before leaving the room to get some papers before walking back in, thankfully Caleb was already in the room when she walked in.

"I'm going to wrap your ankle up with this and then you're good to go, buddy. Make sure you don't apply pressure on it for two weeks. And carefully when you're playing any sport, I don't want you back here," she said while wrapping his ankle up carefully. She gave Grayson the discharge papers, their hands touching each other for a split second before she pulled away waving them off before walking to where her team was.

"That guy was looking at you intensely," Reyez pointed out, earning a glare from her.

"Don't even start," she rolled her eyes before taking a sip from her water bottle that was on her desk.

"Wait is that the?" Jacob, one of the nurses, asked and she nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's him," she sighed, shaking her head.

"Holly shit Y/N, I knew you said he was hot, but girl? That man is hotter than-,"

"Mackenzie, don't you dare," Y/N joked towards her other co-worker, "God why do you do this to me? I was almost over him and then you put him on my path again? The universe hates me,"

"I'd go for it again if I were you," Mackenzie encouraged earning a glare from her.

"Alright, leave her alone before she starts to crumble, Mackenzie go fill out reports, Y/N go take a breather," Reyez ordered them around and they all nodded their heads, going on their way to do what they were told.

. . .

Soft snores began to quietly run past her lips as she drifted off to sleep, all before a feeling of suddenly falling down an empty whole woke her up. She shook her head letting out a quiet 'fuck' before turning to look towards the clocks on her nightstand, 3:30 AM being brightly displayed on it. Y/N let out a loud sigh, knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

Her mind suddenly clouded with knotted thoughts and notions, too many of them just to focus on a single one. She pushed her body up, just enough for her to reach over and grab the small yellow backpack that she lazily threw on the floor, pulling her journal and pen out before throwing it back on the floor.

She clicked the pen and opened the journal, blank pages waiting to be filled up, her hand delicately moved along the paper as she scribbled letters and words on the empty pages, thoughts clearing out of her head, one by one.

I saw him today. He looked different. He's grown. After it all, it has been two years. His voice is deeper too. He wanted to talk, but I said no. Maybe if I did, I would fall for him again, or something. I'm doing just fine, so why did he have to move here. Anyway, Reyez finally allowed me to take care of patients by myself today. It was fun, I liked it, I guess. Luckily I'm free tomorrow because I can't sleep at all now. Maybe it's the repeating thoughts of him running through my mind, or just simply the lack of melatonin in my body right now. I'll probably go to the park tomorrow, stop at the cafe first then make my way there, but anyway, I'm going to try and sleep now.

It was a quick entry, nothing special, just her major thoughts being written down, just enough for her to feel better. She got up from the bed walking over to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle before leaning against the counter and sipping it. She crossed her bare legs over each other, looking out of the big window in her living room. Her favorite part about the apartment? It was the window that looked down on bright LA city. Y/N could sit there for hours and not notice the time pass by, she knows this because it happened before. She left the kitchen and walked towards the window, propping her body down on the small couch she had in front of the window. She laid her head on her hand, watching the few cars that sped down the street, the small yet bright red lights disappearing into the distance as her eyes followed them until they could.

Her eyes softly closed as she laid down on the couch, drifting off into another universe. The next morning she woke up at around 8 AM, doing her daily routine, except she stopped at the Cafe, picked her things up, and made her way to the park. It was an old park, there was an old playground that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. She sat down on an old bench drinking her coffee as she watched the scenery.

She didn't take her notebook out, her mind not having any thoughts, or at least no thoughts relevant enough for her to write down. She just took her time to take her surroundings in. She admired how the wind moved the trees, yet they were so strong they didn't crack. The way the birds lifted off whatever surface they were, and drifted off into the sky. She admired the rare butterflies that randomly appeared just to disappear once again. She simply admired the earth, something that she didn't do quite often; Always being too deep in her thoughts to actually study the things around her.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" Grayson's voice spoke out of nowhere, making Y/N do a slight jump in her seat as her heart raced.

She brought her hand up to her chest, a sigh falling past her lips as she glared at Grayson who was chuckling, "You fucking scared me,"

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down next to her.

They both let out sighs. Both knowing that there was no escaping the conversation that was about to happen, a conversation that was long due.

"You could, hmm, you could go first," she spoke after a few moments of silence, throat dried making her clear it in the middle of some of her words.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were working, and Ummm, it wasn't the right place or time to talk about things. I'm also sorry because I never gave you an explanation as to why we should've broken up. After all, you didn't ask anyway," He softly spoke. He thought every word through, studied each meaning before letting them run past his lips.

"I didn't ask because it's what you wanted. Your decision was clearly made. I mean, I don't think breaking up with someone is a spontaneous thought is it? Your decision was made, and if you felt like I was holding you back, then I had to let you go, if I loved you, then I think I did the right thing." Her words were careful too. And quiet, so quiet feeling that if she spoke too loud the things around her would break.

"I didn't want to break up. I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? We were always so busy, and we made time for each other, but it was exhausting. And when you were out with friends, I felt like I was annoying you or something," he sighed and she shook her head, the thought of her ever getting annoyed at Grayson's presence being absurd.

"Oh God absolutely not," she chuckled, "I thought I was annoying you. Like I wondered if you talked about me, or not. I wanted to know if I annoyed you because I felt like I did,"

It was true. In her journal, multiple pages were filled out with her question herself on whether Grayson talked about her or not. Even after the breakup, she wondered if he'll ever need her. Most pages were about him, all of her thoughts revolved around him, always.

"I did. All the time, to the point where I said your name subconsciously," he smiled, remembering the conversations he had with his friends about her, and how great she was.

"I did too, well not say but write," she sighed, leaning her back on the bench.

"You wrote about me?"

"Grayson you know I did, that's a dumb question," She shook her head, taking a sip of the coffee that was somehow still warm.

"Do you still write about me?" He asked and she stayed quiet, not knowing whether she should answer truthfully or not.

"Honestly speaking, I do. I write about everything that comes to mind, so sometimes? Yeah," she sighed, knowing that it would be easier if they just told the truth.

Maybe this was the closure that they both needed, yet never got. Maybe this was going to help her fully move on from him, and have thoughts that don't include her.

Or maybe not. Maybe this would help them reconnect. Y/N left it all up to the universe. She was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and that you can't change your future since it's already written about. When she got home after a couple of hours she took a shower, lit on her favorite candles, and did the expected. She took out her notebook and wrote.

We spoke today. He told me the reason why we broke up. It wasn't an intentional meeting though, I was just admiring nature. I was looking at the butterflies I think. He randomly spoke. And I know it was long due and needed so I just told him to say it. It's better to just get it over with than to just keep pushing it back, I think. He told me why he wanted to break up, which right now, sounds like a valid reason. I just wonder why he didn't just say it back then. It would've saved me a lot of nights, don't you think? He now knows I write about him, and where I go to write about him. Maybe I shouldn't go there anymore. It sounds out of this world I know. But maybe, just maybe, I should just close that chapter in my life.

There are just too many memories of him at Beachwood. That's where he surprised me the first time he came to visit. And it's where I write about him the most. I could find another cafe near here, there's plenty.

I just wonder if we're ever going to see each other again. If I'll ever fall for him again, if that is even possible. Because I don't think you could fall for the same person twice, right?

That was the last page in her journal. All the pages filled with her delicate letters, her writing being eternal. Filled with on-going words until the end, where an unanswered question laid. The weight that was once on her shoulders began to fade, and for once in her life, the thought of her future no longer made her afraid.

 This is the first time I’m proud of a something I wrote, so if this flops, I will deactivate! Just kidding, sort of. Anyways, yeah, I feel like my writing has improved, and as always, if you have any tips, and/or constructive critism, please, please, please drop them in my inbox, and don’t worry, I won’t say your hurting my feelings lmfao!! 

Tag List:   @guiltydols @evergreendolan @ydolanssss @rhyrhy462 @resilientdolan @simplyxdolxstyles @simplyxdolxstyles​ {If you wanna be added to my Tag List, just let me know :) lol}

[luimagines]

Subject 10-Mulan Link

You have now gained the accesses file page of the chain links case number #19835 Corrupted heroes for Subject #10

Current state: Safe

legal name: Link,last name unknown

Nicknamed: Mulan 

Biological age: unknown

Chronical age: unknown

Hieght: Unknown

Weight: unknown

Visiting accesse time for subject Zero: Must be planned ahead of schedule time in order to have private meetings and clerance from head chief researcher Queen zelda and level 5 personal clerance

Physical description: Subject 10 is a short haired Hylian woman who wears a green tunic and knight gear armor.They have a well built muscular body and a ferret that rests around thier neck as well as scars and cuts around thier body.The most noticeable scare they have are three little cuts under thier chin and a long vertical cut across thier right cheek.

Information: Subject 10 first arrived at the castle carrying subject zero and subject 11 bloodied and badly injured with a broken arm and serveral fractured bones as well as stab/slash wounds.They came in as duplicates of four identical versions of subject 10 dressed variouse colors such as brown,cyan,yellow and green.Only one of the 4 sets had arrived at the castle with subject Zero and Subject 11 while the others fought off to keep back the “chain” while back up knights and town gaurds were deployed to apreheand them.Subject 10 is not placed under any containment but is required to come to the SCRPP research site to have check ups and testing as well as recorded interviews with research personales.Subject 10 refuses to have to go anywhere without her ferret campaion so all interviews and meetings are held with subject 10′s ferret either on the site with them or curled around subject 10′s neck.Subject 10 is in current possesion of the master sword and four sword as well as veriouse other items from the group(but not all for research purposes and other classified resons).They are to be informed of any drastic procedures that are to be done to any of the known subjects and participats of case file #19835.Subject 10 is one of the only subjects out of all the links who dose not show a red essence seeping out or show any signs of agression or possesive behvaiors for subject Zero. Research is still going underway to find out a way as to why it is and if blood or dna samples can be exracted from subject 10 in order to find a cure.

[interview recoding of subject 10 #1]

Dr.Jean: Now beining case file number #1983 dash 1 subject 10 interview of the anomalie the Curropted Heros. Time started at 10:89. Interview researcher personale Dr.Jean, tag number 893 of site 13 room A14.

Dr.Jean: Ok,lets start.Rember at anytime you start to feel uncomfortable we can stop the interview,alright?

Link: ok..

Dr.Jean: ok,lets start off with something simple.Subject 10 can you please state your name?

Link: Mulan.

Dr.Jean: I am sorry,let me clarify I meant your real name.

Link: oh,right..its uh,its Link.

Dr.Jean: Good,can you state your last name as well?

Link: I dont have one.

Dr.Jean: Are you sure? No documnets? Family? Anyway to file for one?

Link: Yes,I am sure.I dont have one.Thats it.

Dr.Jean: Right,right, *ahem* can you tell us how long you’ve know the links?

Link: We had all know each other for about a year and a half, and today would have been our second year together if…you know,had things still been normal with everyone.

Dr.Jean: how did you meet these people to begin with?

Link: I was out exploring the outskits of the forests behind my house one day and saw a bright light,so i got curiouse and followed it.I found a portal and went through it.I was transported to the guredo desert and wondered a around for a bit before I found the chain.it turns out the portal took me to a diffrent time period and there was some time,dimentional stuff going on and we were all gathered to fix it or something.

Dr.Jean: How did you meet subject Zero?

Link: Subject Zero? oh,do you mean [redacted]?

Dr.Jean: Link,please reframe from saying subject Zero’s real name during this interview.

Link: Fine.

Dr.Jean:thank you,pleas contiue.

Link: We first met them a few months after lucky came when [ audio connection has been temperarly lost]

Dr.Jean: Intresting and how did you feel about Subject zero?

Link: I didn’t think much of them, I thought that they were ok.they were kind of nice and everyone liked them,so I did too.But there was something just…off about them.

Dr.Jean:Off like what? Did you distrust them?

Link: no,no,no not distrsut or anything like that…just that something was not right…there was  just something…..something WRONG with them,I dont know how to describe it, they were just not normal in a very bad way.But I ignored it and didn’t think much on it. I think they were just…diffrent.

Dr.Jean: Why did you help them escape?

Link: Because it was the right thing to do.I wanted to get them out of a situation where they were held captive and also keep the others from killing each other on who got to keep them.Its not that complicated. besides it my fault for not stopping this sooner.

Dr.Jean: How?

Link: What?

Dr.Jean: How do you think it was your fault?

LInk:[sighs] its…it was all right there I didn’t want to see it,I knew everyone was starting to act a little wierd but I didn’t want to take it that seriously,I didn’t want to think badly about my fami-friends..my friends…Until one day when they had gone completly overboard and uh…..I had found some of them beating down on a man after they were flirting with..with subject Zero…and to say that they looked like they were thugs when they were doing it would be too much of a understatement…They looked like they were having a good time doing it too.I swear when I saw them that day at the allyway they were not the heros I knew and travled with and as faw as i was concerned they were strangers-no,not even that,they were monsters…And the look on thier faces when I yelled out to them and they turned to me…it was like they were going to kill me right there and then……[Inhales heavily before exhailing shakingly] they weren’t normal….thier eyes….I don’t think I can really ever forget those empty vacant looks..it was like someone els was there…Since then things had started to get worse.

[suject 10 begins to pet her ferret at this time seeming to find comfort in it from thier stress]

Dr.Jean: Who were the ones that were there at the time of the incident?

Link: it was…I think Twilight,Four,Sky and Wild were all there.

Dr.Jean: Even Sky?

LInk: Yeah, him too.I rembered the second I started yelling and taring a new in asshole for them he just came up from behind the group and started to try to “calm me down” and explain how the shit I just saw wasn’t what it seemed like and yadda yadda yadda,typical gaslighting you know? But I wasn’t going to fall for some shit like that so I got the man out of there and to a medic, payed for all his expenses and reported them to Time and Warriors. Honestly I was so pissed off and in shock about it all that I had finally started notice and realize more and more things that were wrong about the group that I use to just keep ignoring.I still didn’t try to do anything serious about it though until the end of our journey.

Dr.Jean:What did you mean by noticeing things?

Link: …….just things….and looking back at it now should have been obviouse red flags but I never pressed for them.I think the first time I did it was with Wsrriors but he kept brushing me off saying things like “everyone is just protective of [redacted]” or “that you are looking way too into this” and when he did listen to me he would tell me that he’d keep a closer eye on the group.I suppose you can take a guess that, he did not, in fact, keep up the promis that he made.

Dr.Jean: did at any point in your adventures feel,were attempted to or successfully attacked or harmed by any members of this group during you adventures before the escape?

Link:No-well I mean yes but…[  exasperated sigh]…yeah….yeah there were a few…ok maybe a lot…But I guess the one that really stuck with me was when,uh,when Time held me up against a wall and tryed to cut my throat during a heated argument about…..them.

[Subject 10 reaches over to rub on a faint cut across thier neck]

[the ferret circles closer to her neck nuzzling it head into hers in an attempt to comfort Link]

Link: Aww,its ok little guy,I am fine right now.Don’t worry fluffy.

Dr.Jean: i am sorry if its too much but what was the argument about?

Link:…….

[subject 10 stays silent for a few minutes before speaking again]

Link: It was about if we should kill subject zero.

Dr.Jean: Then do you think we should kill subject zero?

[subject 10 stops petting fluffy and stares at the doctore without giving an answer for several more minutes]

Link:[a shallow exhale leaves thier mouth] …….I……..I….

[the sounds of sirens and alarms going off]

Annocemnet :There is a containment breach in the D -12 containment building floor,please all personels and staff go to the evacuation exits and safety rooms while special elit force knights handle the situation.Subject 4 case 19835- 1,2,3 and 4 cololrs have all escaped.If you see him or any of the colors they are to be neutralized and brought back to thier containment cells.All other staff do not ingage unless -

Dr.Jean: oh Hylia,looks like we’ll have to cut this short and we have to hurry and-wait where are you going! The safety room is this way! Link!

Link: [distant and muffled]I know,I just need to go out and kick a few stobbern little butts back in thier cells first-!

Dr.Jean: Link the elit knights can handle it you don’t have to-Link!! Link! Sir Link! Lin-!!

[audio ends here]

I am doing wind next

This is long, so I'll react as I read.

oh SHOOT THEY RAN!!!

MULAN USES THE FOUR SWORD!!

[REDACTED]?!?!!?

LUCKY!!!

AUDIO CONECTION TEMPORTARILY LOST!?!?!?!?!?

THEY GONNA KILL A GUY-KIL MULAN!!? SKY IS GASLIGHTING!?!?

TIME CUT THEM?!?!?

MULAN GONNA KILL SUBJECT ZERO!?!?!?

THEY ESCAPE!?!?!? THE COLORS ESCAPE!!!!

MULAN GOES TO FIGHT?!?!?

MY GIRL!!!!

OH MY GOD

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (6/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

“As an employee you’re entitled to sick leaves.”

Entitled. It didn’t necessarily mean he needed it. Levi allowed himself a sequence of motions, some reassurance that his body was still functioning as expected

He raised his shoulders up then rolled it back, stretching his neck, bending it to one side then the other. It did wonders to help send a rush of energy through his still exhausted body. It  served as a reminder, he was strong, he was functional. “I don’t need a day off. I’m fine, ” Levi said. 

Erwin raised one eyebrow, giving him a once over. If he had narrowed his eyes anymore or wrinkled his nose, Levi could have given in. Other parts of his body were still reeling from the ordeal from the beach and he was sure he could fall asleep if someone just laid him out on a sofa.

Erwin though was a man of the office, a staunch professional. When it came to work and productivity, he leaned on the side of ‘being productive.’ He took Levi’s word for it.  “If you are feeling anything, just anything out of the ordinary, take the day off. Feel free to just leave me a note, and I can have Petra or Eld handle the rest of the testing.” 

The word ‘testing’ didn’t do much to convince Levi to rest though and maybe Erwin knew that. Levi slammed the door behind him hard enough to have him preparing for a lecture from Erwin about door slamming manners.

He waited in front of the door, gripping the doorknob from behind him for a good few more seconds. 

“We could start working next week?” Hange appeared right next to him. More specifically, she had accompanied him to Erwin’s office that morning, settling for just loitering outside the door, providing a perfectly valid reason for the internal question ‘ did she hear his conversation with Erwin?’

“It’s a Tuesday and it’s not a holiday,” Levi answered matter-of-factly. 

“Well, don’t companies have sick leaves?” 

“They do.” 

“And you were in the hospital just yesterday.” 

“I was in the hospital under observation,” Levi clarified. 

“After almost drowning,” Hange added.

“Just because the doctor prescribes a few more days of bed rest, doesn’t make it an almighty rule.” It was evidence that maybe a day off or two would have definitely made the difference. That slightly caustic exchange had Levi’s head spinning. He found himself having to squint just to even feign eye contact. “Besides, why are you here anyway?” 

“To work on the love alarm. Don’t you think it’s better if we work closely with each other?” 

“Not this early into the whole process. We could have talked through email.” Levi attempted to walk ahead. His office wasn’t too far from Erwin’s  a good few flights of stairs below. With his head slightly spinning and his legs feeling like jelly, Levi went for the elevators.

It was as if Hange was on a mission to flaunt her ability to speed up her pace. She walked next to him then a few feet ahead, turning back at him. And she had been that way since that morning. 

Levi gave in. “Okay, so what parts of the planning process merit a meeting today?” 

“Well, I’m worried for one.” 

“There are many meetings that could have been an email and I think you lecturing me about not taking a sick leave is one of them.” 

“Yeah, and there’s more...” Hange trailed off, giving him a good look from head to toe. Levi liked to believe she just couldn’t find the right answer to whatever implicit question he introduced at that moment. “I’m sorry about yesterday, and the day before.” 

“That could have been an email.” 

“I know Zeke gave you shit about being carried by me and having to be saved by me...” 

Levi stifled a cringe. A bridal carry to be specific. “That could have also been an email.” 

Hange huffed. “Fine. I get if you want to be so pissy about this but let me be selfish. I didn’t join Zeke on his business trip and it’s because I felt guilty. About you almost drowning, about you being forced to play golf and almost losing all your money over a few games. It was shitty okay. And for my own peace of mind, please let me join you at work, and maybe just help you make some progress with the alarm, even just a bit?” 

There was nothing much else his muddled brain could come up with in that moment of silence. “Okay,” Levi said, with a tone that could have easily been seen through. It was in fact, not okay. 

“Why? Is there anything else you’re busy with?” 

Levi sighed. “Making sure that damn love alarm gets tested for the next release.”

***

Anticipation had the tendency of piling stress much higher than the stress was actually worth. For many people, they only realize how much of a simple task something can be when they’re actually doing it. 

When work would pile up, stress would pile up. When Levi’s brain was working at half capacity, while trying to balance responsibilities and a guilty Hange in tow, he was barely thinking about work yet still attempting to the best of his meagre abilities.  

When the work was finally in front of him, the workflow tracker out, the whole ordeal of anticipating a workload had turned out to be anticlimactic. Maybe he had just gotten used to days leading up to releases being particularly stressful. After all, it usually involved early morning sanity checks, junk food and a stressed out team. 

Usually. They had some good releases and the one that day seemed like a good release. Of course it would be a less stressful release. It was under testing for months and it had been pushed back a week already. The QA work was almost over. To be just a little more certain, Levi filtered his workflow tracker to staged tickets and to tickets tagged ‘ready for release.’ 

“So, how does this pre-release testing work?” Hange asked, leaning forward. She had taken the liberty to pull one of the chairs to the corner towards and sat beside him. 

“I’m working,” Levi said coldly.

“Oh, but you said you needed to test the love alarm.” 

“Yes, the team is testing it. I’m making sure everything gets tested.” 

“So how do you make sure everything gets tested?” 

“Well… There’s this tracker here, I assign tickets for testing and when people say it’s tested they click QA passed and I see it here. Then if anything urgent needs testing or anything doesn’t seem to work, I help out and try to fix it,” Levi said, he opened his drawer dropping one of his test devices on the table. 

“So you could have gotten a day off,” Hange asked, seemingly knowingly. 

Levi glanced at the dashboard to seeall tickets were tagged as ‘Ready to Release.’  the others having been done a week back. He was too lazy to check the event history and there was no need to. The necessary work had been finished. 

Maybe he could have taken the day off. He wasn’t admitting that though. “So tell me, what are your plans? We’re getting the money soon according to Erwin but you’re the mastermind behind this.” Levi swiveled his chair behind him, grabbed his whiteboard eraser and cleaned out some of the useless notes from the next release. 

Half way through cleaning it up though, he stopped. There might be something you’ll need there. He cursed himself for even erasing some of it to the point of incomprehensible. 

“You wanna just use the workflow tracker? Like the one on your computer?” Hange suggested. 

“No, this is fine…” Levi racked his brain for those numbers and he settled for just writing the notes just much smaller below the release notes to the side with the larger font. 

It looked messy. It looked ugly. And his dominant meticulous side would not stand for it. In one swift motion borne out of frustration, Levi swiped his white board eraser over the whiteboard five times, more than enough to wipe it clean. 

“Was there anything important there?” Hange asked.

“Just a cleaner version of what we have in the tracker,” Levi said with a slight huff. He would rather Hange wasn’t reminded of whatever could have been there.

“Well, you wanna brainstorm on the whiteboard?” 

“It’s blank now.” Levi gestured for Hange to go ahead. 

“There’s actually not much to brainstorm on my end,” Hange said. Still, she walked a little nearer, grabbing the marker from Levi. She drew a heart. “You used biological markers to determine love right? That’s how you made the application. If you could assume love based on biological markers… maybe you can break it down and do it similarly for feelings right? I work with psychotherapy and I thought your application might have the potential to be tweaked in the context of assessing emotion Just to give therapists an idea of how their patients feel….” Hange trailed off. She drew a small diagram under the heart, a sad face, a happy face then a blank face. “I mean we have the technology for it already right? Most phones now are capable of more complex biometrics, that’s what the love alarm is taking advantage of.” 

Levi hummed. The diagram made it look just a little too easy. “And how do you think we can break down the application?” He knew the answer. Testing Hange though had been a tempting option.

Hange looked back at him, a confident grin on her face.“Yeah, you have the data already? And you created models or algorithms. Maybe you can extract part of those data sets and we can cut it down… to ‘happy,’ to ‘sad’ etcetera. And you can use what you have to make other types of alarms, like a happy alarm, a sad alarm. Right?

“We have the technology and the hardware to pull that off I guess. It’ll just be a matter of making a model, logging data, and coding. Doable with the right resources.” 

“But it should be easier since you already have some of the work done with the love alarm.” 

“But it won’t be as accurate at first. It took us five years to get the love alarm to this level of accuracy. I can’t even guarantee it’s completely accurate,” Levi said. 

“What about it takes time?” 

“We use an AI algorithm.”

“Artificial Intelligence,” Hange said. 

Levi nodded. “It’s a machine learning model. We give the model data as an input and data as an output and the more data you put into it, the more experience the machine has and the better the machine gets at figuring out what the correct answer is . We give it the biological data, the input and we give it the output, the anonymous test results and some formulas, and overtime, the machine starts to figure out for itself what love is.” 

“So you can’t actually break down the application to do it for you?” 

“We can but it will be a pain. Might as well just create a new model.” 

“Will it take as long as the love alarm?

Levi shook his head. “We have the necessary APIs, the hardware. We can buy more server space but we will have to create a new model.” 

Hange raised one eyebrow. “Okay, that’s a good start.” 

“I’ll just have to make a plan, see how much more resources we need and send them off to Erwin.” Levi opened an a blank document and pushed Hange’s seat closer to his. . 

“Wait, I’m curious though…” Hange started. She tapped one finger on her chin. “How does data processing work?”

***

Levi never considered the server room to be anything interesting. It was after all just a conglomeration of headless computers, wires and lights. 

A very important conglomeration. After all, a fire or a faulty pipe would be enough to destroy millions of dollars worth of data. 

He only allowed her one peek, just opening the door wide enough for one eye to see through for just a few seconds long enough for Hange to let out a hushed breath. “Our company handles a lot of applications and some of the servers supporting these applications are housed here,” he explained. 

“And the data?” 

“They’re housed here. Sometimes we use cloud servers too. Sometimes caching servers and everything is processed here then sent to the application." Levi kept his words simple. 

"Billions of points worth of data…" Hange's voice deadened to a whisper.

"It takes time for the data to come, the machines to learn. We started off with manual loading the data, then testing. It took a lot of work to get this much data, enough for the application to work as expected."

"And you continue to get the data I'm guessing."

Levi shrugged. "During quality testing, during actual app usage. As long as someone is using the application and complying to their biometrics being gathered by the application, we get data. That's how all applications work."

Hange hummed. Her mouth curled up into a smile. "So let's say… when I turn on the application, you can collect my data right?"

"The servers are always on, they're always collecting data. It needs the data after all to ring the alarm right?"

"Then how do we check the data?" Hange asked. 

Levi leaned on the door, shutting it with a click. "When we need it, I'll extract your data on my end, then maybe I'll extract mine. To be honest, I don't think they'd give many answers though."

"Serotonin, Oxytocin, Dopamine, Body heat. There's a lot to see from those numbers.” Hange pointed a thumb to her chest. “This is my specialty.” 

"Then I guess we're going to have to make sense of it together."

Hange nodded. "So what are we waiting for? Let’s work on it over lunch.."

"Don't get too hasty. We're gonna have to make a research plan."

***

Hange already had a research plan on hand and she had been working on it for a while. A twenty page document with just a section filled with bullet points and comments. 

There were points Levi had to fill out himself. Still, it wasn't too much work. "You came prepared," he said. 

"What can I say, it's my pet project," Hange scrolled down towards the end of the word document.

"Zeke seemed excited about it, I thought it would have been his at first."

"If this works out, his hospitals will be the first ones in the country or even the world with this type of technology. If it's sure money, it'll be easy to convince him. Besides, I have my ways." Hange gave Levi a sly smile, soon concealed by the cup between her lips. 

She was in a better mood. They were out for lunch in a more seemingly relaxed position and Levi saw opportunity. 

It's better now than never. "How does he feel… about the developer of the application spending a little too much time with you?"

"It's part of the research process and I need to talk to a developer, not an investor.  Besides, he has other investments," Hange said nonchalantly, too nonchalantly that it was almost unsettling.

"With what happened at the beach." Just the quick recall was enough to send blood rushing to his face. He wondered if outwardly he did look a little red. He bit his lip and looked away. From his peripherals, he could see Hange though was just a little too focused on his laptop screen. 

Hange could have spit out her tea. "Are you still thinking about the bridal carry? I didn’t think it was too big of a deal. I could have sworn you were unconscious." 

At first, Levi could have sworn he was unconscious too. Zeke had mentioned it just a little too many times though that Levi was starting to generate his own phantom memories of the incident. 

"Sorry about the CPR though. I probably bruised a few ribs.”

He remembered the CPR just a little too quickly. Or maybe it had been the bruises reminding him. Levi ran his hands over his chest, feeling a slight twinge of pain in response. "Hey, you did it to save my life."

Hange shook her head. "Or maybe I was panicking. It didn’t look like you were breathing but everything was moving too fast and---” She was digressing. 

“What does Zeke think about it?” Levi pressed. 

“Why do you care so much about what Zeke thinks about it?” Hange asked. She had raised her tone, maybe only slightly. It was firm, almost abrasive that Levi regretted it. 

“Zeke is an investor, one of the richest men in the world. I’m spending too much time with his partner. Then back in the beach---”

“Zeke is always busy and honestly, I’m grateful for any other relationships I can make outside this,” Hange argued. “You know, life, building relationships, these things don’t end after marriage. Sure, Zeke and I committed to a relationship but I think I should still be able to find joy in connecting with other people. Marriage isn’t supposed to tie anyone down, stop them from experiencing life. People in relationships are supposed to grow freely together.” 

Maybe Levi had been thinking too hard about it. Or maybe Hange was just a little too laid back. “What do you think about the love alarm ringing?” 

“It happens. Besides, I’m not too worried. Love is a choice,” Hange said. “Commitment is a choice. I think I remember sending you a book about that.”

“So you don’t believe in our product,” Levi challenged. 

“I never said that.” Hange started to stir at her cup, just a little faster. “You can choose to love someone, to commit to them, to be patient with them and to ride out every single problem with them but there is the feeling aspect right? That’s what the love alarm measures, or that’s what I’m suspecting.” 

Levi nodded. 

“So the fact that it rings with strangers or just randomly, shows that it measures attraction right?” 

“Hormones, movements, pace…” Levi listed them out as just another appendix in their dialogue. 

“I wanna understand… where do feelings fit in all this.” Hange put her hands up in defense.. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Zeke, I married him. He’s a good man. And I wanna make whatever it is between us work for a good long time but as someone who works with human psychology, emotions, as someone who’s seen relationships succeed, relationships fail and some that are just so-so. I wanna know, how much of it is emotions, how much of it is volitional commitment. And this type of research, with the love alarm… I think it can teach us things. Emotions are fleeting but there are emotions that stay for a long time and maybe they make being loving and being patient easier---” She slammed her hands back on the table. “Am I making sense here?” 

Levi only realized then he had been biting his straw and had barely gotten anything out. “I’m trying to understand and I think I’m kinda succeeding? GIve me a few more seconds.” He looked away, silently grateful for the good view of the shopping streets from the second floor of the cafe. The cafe was a good balance of loud and soft, filled with whispers and conversations yet still calming and relaxing if he focused on that part in particular. 

“Have you really, never been in a relationship?” Hange asked, seconds or even minutes later. 

“No.” 

“And you told me, you’ve never made the alarm ring for anyone.” 

“In my five years of testing, no,” Levi said. 

“What made it ring with me?” Hange asked. “ Have you ever theorized that?” 

“It could be a bu---” 

“Let’s assume the application is working properly.” Hange pressed. “Do you feel anything different? When you’re with me?” 

Maybe he did. Levi was tempted to look back the moment Hange had ended that question with her tone of voice higher than a second ago. Her eyebrows furrowed, her gaze fixed on his. Levi had to admit, he didn’t want to look away again. 

So he looked away. “I should be asking you that question. Your alarm rang too. Do you feel anything with me that you don’t feel with him?” 

***

They carried the conversation elsewhere, somewhere where the walls didn’t echo, somewhere where there wasn’t anyone within a good ten meters away. Somewhere they could have sworn nobody would be listening. 

It was a silent agreement, consisting of nodding and pulling of hands and it ended with them in the park, a little past noon on a Tuesday. 

“Do you feel any different when you’re with me?” The question was exchanged once again, in a park bench towards the center, after seconds of checking surroundings. It came in variations of it, in stutters, between clearing throats. 

When it came to recovering eloquence, Hange won without a fight. “If I tell you, will you promise to at least try to tell me?”

“Try.” Levi was economical with his words. He made certain though to consolidate all the discomforts of such a pressing topic to that one word. 

Hange took a deep breath. “It’s funny because we just met right? But sometimes, I randomly think of you. When I come home to find the cleaner cleaning out the room, I think ‘Levi would probably like a clean room.’ When I was drinking coffee this morning, I thought of how you didn’t get your tea time and today, I was excited to see you. But I’m excited to see Zeke too… So maybe I’m just lonely because he left so suddenly for a business trip. Were you excited to see me?” 

“Not this morning,” Levi said. That had been easy enough to let slip out. It wasn’t a lie after all. 

“Oh. Then maybe my theory is wrong.” Hange said it  too quickly, her voice much softer. 

That had Levi feeling a tad guilty, at the same time more motivated to find some way to cheer her up. “But I was excited to go to the country club with you and when I saw you with Zeke by the pool, I felt weird.” 

“Weird?” 

“I kept looking, but I wanted to look away…” 

Then there was silence. He was watching Hange and she wasn’t opening her mouth to speak. In the silence, he found reason for a segue. It could have been too sudden or it could have been a natural progression. Levi was easily imagining the scene by the pool as he stared at the empty streets, he thought it natural, and at least appropriate. “You and Zeke really get along huh?”

“Now yes.” 

One syllable, one slip of the tongue had Levi alert.“Now?” 

Hange shook her head. “Now. As in, we get along but at first, we didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “ Zeke and I have known each other since college and he confessed to me in our senior year before graduation. We dated for a few years after that.”

“You chose to date him, even when you didn’t like him.” 

“Sure he doesn’t give the best first impression, he’s a little extra, if you know what I mean, his head gets a little too big sometimes. My parents and friends said it would be a good idea to just try it out. He was the heir to one of the biggest companies in the country and he isn’t a bad person per se so I opted to try it out and over time, I got to know him, we got closer and he proposed to me a few years ago, I said yes… and here I am, married.”

“Married.” Levi looked pointedly at her. Hange had leaned back and hung her head back, staring at the sky above.  She had said that last part with a little too much breath, and too little voice. 

Hange gave him a wry smile. “Well, I honestly thought it was too early to settle down. I would have wanted to finish my PhD first, maybe travel a little more, meet more people before we get married but we’ve been dating for years, Zeke was insistent and....It seemed like a good choice. What was there to lose? He’s a good man. We were familiar with each other and besides, just because we’re married, doesn’t mean life stops right?” 

“You tell me. I’ve never been married. Some people are asking me when I plan on settling down.” 

“I guess we’re on two ends of the spectrum. You might end up marrying late. I married too early.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with why the love alarm didn’t ring?” 

Hange shrugged. “Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t. The thing is, I don’t want love to be a feeling because just bending over backward to however I’m feeling means that I’m not really free right? I want love to be a choice. I chose to marry Zeke, I chose to commit to him and regardless of what a computer says about love, I wanna be able to decide for myself how I feel, who I love and how I love.” 

***

A few clacks of the keyboard. The click of the mouse. Then the computer whirred to life again, a few swishes among them. 

“So, all I have to do is type out a query here on the server management studio and I’ll be able to extract whatever data we need,” Levi said. “So what email do you use for your love alarm?” 

“Wings of freedom…” Hange didn’t finish. Instead she slipped her phone next to Levi, the screen open to the settings page.  

wingsoffreedom95@jmail.com

Levi stifled a smile. “Don’t you have a more professional sounding email?” 

“I like using pseudo emails for making accounts for weird things.” 

“Nice to know our product counts as a weird account to you,” Levi said.  

“Well, I was testing the product out before I even pitched it to Zeke. I wouldn’t want anyone to have gotten information on me.” 

“Then I guess, that was a good choice.” Levi slammed the enter button and the screen froze for a second before the export box appeared. 

“Yeah, I’d expect a company like yours will collect data.” 

“I’m sure we have a tiny box saying ‘you comply to having your data gathered when you use the product.’”

“You did,” Hange admitted. 

“Then you can’t complain about me having access to the location, the hormone levels, the heart rate and all other pertinent information of wingsoffreedom95@jmail.com.” 

“What email do you use?” 

“I extracted that too,” Levi said. He opened his own application and slipped his phone to Hange. 

“So you are using a pseudonym too.” 

“Of course. I test the product. I need multiple emails,” Levi said. 

“Sure, humanitysstronges1225@jmail.com. You really had to go for something tacky like that?” 

“Well, no one got the username yet,” Levi said. He was quick to digress. “I extracted our biodata from the day we met and when we tested the application. It’s gonna be exported as a data file and just open it using excel or something and do what you need to do.”

“You’re a gem, Levi,” Hange said.  

“Just don’t touch anything else. I’m gonna take a break first,” Levi leaned further back on his chair, grateful for Erwin’s suggestion that he got a reclining chair then. “Maybe I should have gotten a day off. Eld told me, support is quiet today and the release has been ready for a while. Nothing much else to do.” He went for his ebook reader next to his desk and held it above him. 

It flashed open to the latest page. 

The room was silent save for the clack of the keyboard and the whirring of the monitor. It was an odd position to be in but Levi found it was much easier to focus on words when all he had behind the reader was the white ceiling. If he tried a little harder, he could also pretend the clacking of the keyboard wasn’t at all, Hange. 

He was tired. He was exhausted and the ordeal from a few days ago still bubbled at the back of his mouth. Surprisingly, the words had shifted so easily into sceneries, emotions, investment and Levi was thinking too hard about one Mr. Collins and his engagement to the protagonist. 

“Levi!” 

Levi was pulled out of that very comfortable stupor by one rash voice and as he looked up to see Hange smiling, he realized, maybe it had been his own emotional investment at that damn book that got him a little cranky at the wake up call. “What? How long was I reading?” 

“Fifteen minutes at least,” Hange said. “I found something interesting with the data. Did you know, that when the love alarm rang, our hormones were low, our body heat was low, our heart rate wasn’t high. Would you know why it still rang?” 

“I told you, after a certain point we don’t know. It becomes an algorithm. The computer figures it out for itself.” 

“But we’re going to need that data when working with other emotions right?” Hange pressed. “I’m gonna take note of this.” 

“Do you think the love alarm still works as expected?” 

“It could. You told me yourself, billions worth of data points. How could they be wrong right? But this is nice to know, you know. Just looking at the data here, is somehow reassuring.” 

“Reassuring how?” 

Hange shrugged. “Well I’ll do a little of my own testing and will contact you when I come up with anything.” She looked at the clock on her phone. “Then we could schedule a visit to one of Zeke’s hospitals and have a talk with the staff, maybe they could give some feedback on the working plan.” 

“You’re gonna leave?” Levi sat up, putting his ebook reader down on the desk next to him. Hange had started to rifle through her bag and that got him alert.

“Why? You want me to stay a little longer?” 

“I never said that.” 

“You said you were busy with work this morning and now you want me to stay?” Hange challenged. 

“Well it turned out there isn’t much work to do anyway. We get the changes live by the end of this week and we work towards the next release.” Now that Levi did think about it, the job was pretty repetitive and Hange’s pet project had somehow added color to the whole experience. “But you can leave if you want to,” Levi added a second later. Just in case, she did get some sort of hint that he wanted her to stay.

That last sentence did the exact opposite. Exactly how? Levi didn’t have much time to ponder it. By the time, he had even attempted to read through the protagonist’s response to her suitor, Hange had already pulled her chair right next to his, close enough for him to be feeling slightly warmer. Then, warm enough for him to pull away. “What the hell?” 

“I was just wondering what you were reading.” 

“You could have asked. Were you looking?” 

“No.I wasn’t raised to look over people’s shoulders when they read.” Hange said matter-of-factly. “Actually, I was about to ask what you were reading when you pulled away so fast.” 

Levi sighed. “It’s one of the books you sent over in that drive folder.” 

“Ooh, which one? Scott Peck?” 

“I read though that already until I realized the author cheated on his wife.” 

“That doesn’t make his words any more invalid. Love is a choice,” she sang. The amount of times he had heard that since he even read the book maybe even the most melodious tone grating. “So what book is it?”

“The novel, Pride and Prejudice.” 

“Oooh, which part are you in?” 

Maybe Levi had let his guard down just a little. He probably tilted his reader a little bit towards her. Those minute details might have been enough though to have Hange pulling closer towards him, looking over at whatever he had been reading. 

“I’m a slow reader,” Levi explained. 

“Well, it’s a classic. Hange said. This time she was looking at him again. “I swear, I think it shaped my own idea of love. think there’s a lot to learn about love and marriage the way that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy fall in love---” 

“Wait. Stop.” Emotional investment in the book had Levi vulnerable. He only realized it then when he felt his mouth twitch, his eyebrows raise just a little higher. He found himself dropping the reader on the desk in front of him again, a retaliation at that ringing in his ears and the uncomfortable drop of his stomach. Spoilers were surprisingly painful things. “Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth… They end up together?” He managed to let out. 

Hange nodded hesitantly. “Yes, it’s in the title. Mr. Darcy is pride and Elizabeth is prejudice.” 

“You’re talking about the asshole Darcy right? Ten thousand pounds a year asshole Darcy?” 

***

To hell if Hange looked just a little uncomfortable. Maybe more than a little. “I swear I thought everyone knew. Pride and Prejudice is a classic and it’s so talked about that---” 

“I thought she was gonna end up with Mr. Wickham,” Levi admitted. It was difficult to wipe that grimace off his face, to the point that he had worn it almost as a medal while escorting Hange down to the lobby.   

“Hey, I’m sorry…” Hange said. Her attempt to make amends though was grating. 

Levi sighed. “It’s fine. This is a sign anyway, I need to do something more productive with my last few hours of work. I have a few more hours in the office, I’ll probably check on the team first. Is someone picking you up?” 

“I messaged already,” Hange said glumly. “You know, I thought we could hang out a bit first.” 

“Just focus first on getting an appointment with the hospital. To be honest, I really think I do have some work to check on.” 

“Hey, I’ll make up to spoiling you okay?” Hange said. She had tried to curl her lips up to a smile, to widen the grin on her face. It had come out as something wry. 

He found some solace at least in realizing he wasn’t the only one a little too bothered by those spoilers. He could have sworn it had never affected him that way before. But it’s just spoilers. He reminded himself. “I’ll get over it. Just focus on your work.” Still, it was difficult to enunciate words, it was difficult to even look at her. “Who’s picking you up?” 

“Probably a chauffeur,” Hange said. She opened her phone again. The white glare of the screen reflected on Hange’s eyes and Levi was seeing stars in them again. Stars that somehow breathed life into her dead half smile of a while ago. “I can go from here.”

“Wait what?” 

“Zeke’s picking me up at the gate. He said he wanted to try one of the restaurants at the nearby shopping street,” Hange explained.

Levi’s mind was an aggregate of unintelligible emotions. Do you want me to escort you out? Of course you don’t, I practically kicked you out. When there were things he couldn’t understand, maybe the right thing to do was be professional about it. “I’ll wait for your reply on the hospital visit. I’ll do what I can with the working plan and hopefully we could come up with something by Friday.” 

“That would be cool. I’ll make sure to message you.” Hange wasn’t looking at him anymore and Levi had been perceptive enough to notice that her voice slowed just a little, the volume much softer than a second ago. Her mind was elsewhere. 

Then suddenly, she was talking again, her voice a stark contrast from a second ago. “Zeke! I’m so glad to hear from you. Levi and I were just working on the application just now… And we have some great ideas…” 

He never heard what Hange said after that. If he closed his eyes, and focused just a bit, maybe he could have but the ache in his chest was overpowering and he found it most convenient to blame the spoilers at first. 

Hange walking away. Hange mentioning Zeke. Those were moments of clarity. 

Darcy had reminded him a little too much of Zeke. Elizabeth, a little too much of Hange. When he walked back up to the room, back scrolled back to the scene at the ball, the scene with Mr. Wickham, he let out a laugh. 

Fiction was supposed to be comforting and somehow with his own emotional investment in the story, he had hoped for an ending where money didn’t win. And he was scrambling for it long after Hange turned the corner way past the entrance. 

Back in the office, alone with the reader on hand, he thought about it a little more. 

I swear, I think it shaped my own idea of love. think there’s a lot to learn about love and marriage…

“A lot to learn huh?” Love and marriage which ended with a rich abrasive asshole? 

There was definitely a lot to learn. Marriage could be for money. Love could be learned. 

To commit, to love was a choice. 

And Levi didn't need to read the whole book to be reminded of what he had already figured out. 

Levi checked the table of contents, then the tracker at the bottom, he was barely thirty percent into the book, a very long book. Or maybe he was just a slow reader

After a few more minutes of staring, he managed to stumble upon the stone cold conclusion that it was a waste of time. 

He quickly deleted the book, muttering to himself for a second longer that it was a good decision. Then he walked to his team's office, laptop tightly on hand. When he was looking left and right, when he was looking through his workflow tracker again on his phone, he found an out. 

After all, he shouldn't have the time to ponder Hange's own ideas of love when he had an application to maintain and investors to please. 

***

Levi ended up leaving work earlier than expected. It was a total lie to think there was any work needed to be done. Exhaustion clambered up quickly, a special kind of exhaustion at slogging through a day of work less than forty eight hours after being discharged from the hospital. An exhaustion that came with having spent a good hour lying to himself and to his subordinates that they had anything else to do before the release. 

"Any support queries?" Levi asked. It felt more like a formality. 

His subordinates had already started to pack their bags for the day. 

"Nothing too urgent," Petra answered. “Nothing that can be finished in ten minutes either..” 

“Leave it for tomorrow,” Levi said. As much as possible, he preferred to be the only one having to do over time. 

“Sir, do you have any idea when we would start working on that new request by Mr. Jaeger?”

Levi’s answer was calm and straightforward. “We’re currently working on a plan, me and Hange and as soon as we get it approved, we can have a meeting about it.” And exhaustion made acceptance all the more natural. “You’ve all been working hard the past weeks leading up to the release. Stay low or take leaves if you need to, I’ll handle making sure everything goes live on time.” 

Greetings were exchanged after that. Thank yous, sighs of relief and Levi wondered how hard the past few weeks have been, only for the release to have been delayed over Zeke’s request. Somehow, Levi felt some responsibility and guilt over such a ‘bug.’ Whether it was actually a bug or it was his own shortcomings as a human which caused the test to end that way,  whatever musins he had about them, did nothing to placate the guilt as he watched their relieved faces, their much calmer faces.

The next day he woke up to emails, requests for leaves that week which he immediately approved. One week of calm, one week long enough to have it go live that weekend. Then Monday would be the post release sanity check. 

He’d use the week to plan, to coordinate a little more with Hange. He opened his phone to see her number just on top, just like it had usually been recently. He had decided not to open her message until he got to the office. 

Business is business. He thought to himself. The banner had given hints to the message but there weren't many hints to the context of a date time. 

5/15 3:23AM. Check my body heat, serotonin levels, dopamine levels….

Less than a minute later, Levi was on the phone rattling numbers. 

“So they’re high,” Hange said. “High numbers are a sign of love.” 

Levi could have sworn he had heard the smile in her voice. “Why? Did something happen last night?”  

“Zeke and I had a late night. It was the most fun we had in a while.” 

Before Levi even noticed it himself, his mind was racing, asking questions. If Zeke had the love alarm on, would it have rang? And soon, it was clamoring for answers he knew he could never give.

Zeke’s own love alarm wouldn’t be on and even if it wasn’t on, it didn’t send data the same way Hange’s did. All he could do then was settle for speculation. “Maybe there is a bug then Hange. Or maybe there’s something wrong with the data. We’ll turn on your love alarm again when we visit, let’s try it again.” 

The call ended amiably and Levi was a little more sluggish soon after. He lay his phone back on his desk and turned on the love alarm. 

As expected, no hearts appeared. One hand on the keyboard next to him, he typed out a query and pulled his own data. His own hormone levels were much lower than 3am Hange’s. He opened the data Hange had analyzed just yesterday. The hormone levels were still low. 

He clicked on the settings on his application, back at the dashboard then pressed the home button and sighed. “Some developer I am, can’t even figure out how my app works anymore.”

Then he thought something he hadn’t thought in a while. Maybe going for something as complex as love from the start wasn’t such a good idea. 

[imjustwritingg]

maybe it was fate: chapter 2

Thank you so much to everyone who has read and sent love for this story! It really means so much and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Happy reading!

Chapter 1  ||  AO3  ||  FFNet

She wakes with her heart pounding in her chest, a sheen of sweat covering her skin and her body shaking. She takes deep breaths and tries with everything she has to regulate her breathing and bring herself back to reality, telling herself it was just another nightmare. That she’s safe in her bed. That she’s okay.

It’s been three and a half years and despite the work she put in during therapy from back then the memories still invade her mind and make her toss and turn when she least expects it. She blinks her eyes against the slight darkness of her bedroom and glances over at the half open curtains hanging over her bedroom windows. The sun is just beginning to rise.

She reaches out a hand for her phone charging on the nightstand next to the bed and squints at the brightness of the screen when she checks the time. She groans out and drops the phone back down in its place.

It’s almost seven. Her alarm isn’t set to go off for another thirty minutes, but she kicks the covers off anyway and swings her legs over the side of the bed. It’s not like she would be able to go back to sleep even if she tried. She stretches her arms out and rolls her shoulders, bones cracking as she does, and then she stands from the bed and heads for the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

She takes a shower as hot as her skin will allow, trying to scrub away the remnants of memories that suffocated her in her sleep. By the time she steps out of the shower stall the bathroom is filled with a thick cloud of steam and her skin is red and tingling. She dries herself off and pats her hair dry with a towel before she pulls a brush through her messy blonde waves, and then dresses for the day.

It’s only when she grabs her badge and gun from the locked drawer of her nightstand that she notices how quiet it is throughout the house. Almost too quiet. She clips her star to a loop of her jeans and then makes sure the safety of her gun is switched on before she holsters it to the left side of her waist. She grabs her phone and stuffs it in her back pocket before leaving the room and heading downstairs.

When she enters the kitchen she can’t help smiling gratefully at the sight of a post-it sitting on top of the coffee machine.

All ready for ya. Just hit brew. See ya tonight. xx

She presses the brew button and grabs a mug from the cabinet above the machine. As the smell of caffeine hits her nostrils and the sound of dripping coffee begins to fill the silence around her, she steps to the refrigerator and glances at the calendar sheet for that month held in place with a magnet.

She surmises the quiet house and the post-it note to the fact that it’s Thursday, and remembers how Tuesdays and Thursdays are early days for the time being. She runs a hand through her still slightly damp hair and then pulls the door of the fridge open to grab the half and half. The machine beeps a moment later signaling to her that the coffee is ready and she quickly makes up a mug before returning the creamer to the fridge, and then taking a seat at the island. She sips on her coffee for few moments until the silence envelops her again, a little too tightly, and she can’t help thinking back to what shook her awake.

The light is blinding when she cracks her right eye open. She attempts to open the left, but groans out at the pain that shoots down the side of her face when she tries. The recognition of the fluorescent lights above her makes her realizes she’s in a hospital and before she can stop them, the memories of how she got there begin to fill her head.

The case and being undercover. Booth on top of her, hitting her over and over. Garrett.

“Hailey?”

She hears his voice from beside her and forces her good eye to open completely to see him sitting next to her.

“Garrett?” She mumbles.

“I’m here babe. I’m here.,” he assures her.

She feels his fingers cover her hand and she hates the way she jerks back, flinching at the contact of his warm skin on hers. She watches as he pulls his hand away and leans back in the chair he’s sat in to try and give her some space, and then his eyes meet her good one.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe,” he tells her.

She has to remind herself that it’s him. That he wouldn’t hurt her. She reaches her right arm out towards him and opens her hand palm facing up at him. He gives her a small smile before placing his hand in hers slowly, carefully, not wanting to scare her again.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asks her a second later.

“Mostly, but some of it’s fuzzy. The party and we were in the office and Booth - he was hitting me, there was yelling,” she says.

And then the details of what transpired in that same office hit her and she’s having trouble breathing. Her body begins to shake and tears form in her right eye.

“He was - he - did he?”

She can’t say the words, but he can gather what she’s thinking and he shakes his head at her quickly and gives her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“No, no he didn’t.”

She blows out a deep breath and tries to calm herself down, and feels him squeeze her hand again as if he’s pulling her back to him and anchoring her in place.

She remembers the fleeting moment back in the office when she thought she saw his scruffy bearded face above her and it’s her who squeezes his hand then.

“You were there. You stopped him from - I thought I was dreaming. You got him?”

He nods slowly, confirming her thoughts.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I went to find Ty. He was passed out in a bedroom upstairs. I was barely gone five minutes. I came back downstairs and the office door was locked. Had a bad feeling.”

“He must have locked it. He kept hitting me and I just wanted to sleep,” she says.

Garrett nods at her, confirming her suspicions again and she notices the way his jaw clenches and the apple of his throat bobs as he swallows.

“I kicked the door down. Saw him trying to pull your jeans off and you were bleeding and completely out of it. All I saw was red. I lunged for him. Scotty came in a few moments later, pulled me off of him and took him out of the room.”

“Does he know who we are? Where is he?” Hailey asks in a panic.

He shushes her immediately, trying to calm her down and leans in closer to her. “He’s in jail. We got him and most of his crew on the meth distribution. He can’t get to you.”

It sounds so simple the way he says it and she wishes it would be enough to make her feel better, but it doesn’t. All there is, is disgust and anger and pain. So much pain.

Her body is aching. She can’t open her left eye or lift her left arm. Her throat feels like it’s on fire and she feels as though someone is beating the inside of her skull with a baseball bat.

“How bad is it?” She asks, needing to know, and she hears him sigh in some sort of pain of his own.

“Fractured left wrist. Your left eye is swollen shut; the doctor called it a blowout fracture. Piece of shit hit you really hard. Bruising on your forehead, under your other eye, your chin, handprints around your neck, and a split bottom lip. You got a pretty nasty concussion too - the doctor was worried about a brain bleed earlier, but all your tests came back okay.”

She sticks the tip of her tongue out to her lip and winces at the residual taste of copper and the onslaught of discomfort. She can feel the stitches with her tongue and pulls it back into her mouth.

“How long have I been here?” She wonders.

“Four days. Serge already called it. You’re on leave for at least eight weeks until the doc clears you and you pass a psych eval with flying colors.”

If she could roll her eyes she would, but all she can muster is blowing out a breath of annoyance.

“What about the case?” She asks because despite her current location and situation, she’s still a cop and she has a job to do.

“Given the circumstances, Rafferty made the call and decided to leave your name out of things. He convinced the DA too, so that your cover isn’t blown with any of the other unknown players. It’s been passed off to narcotics and organized crime. You won’t testify Hailey, you can’t. As far as any of those bastards know, Kelly went back home to Iowa after everything went down.”

“So what? We just pretend the last four months didn’t happen? Pretend that party didn’t happen?”

“Hailey.”

She can hear it in his voice the way he breathes out her name in a near whisper. The worry. The fear. And she knows.

“You made that call. Not Rafferty.”

It’s not a question or even an accusation. Just a simple statement of realization, but it only fuels her annoyance and then it quickly turns to bubbling anger. She pulls her hand out of his and gives the tiniest shake of her head in disbelief. She watches him out of her good eye as his eyes leave her for a moment to look at the floor. He leans back in the chair and uses his now free hand to run it over the back of his head.

He takes another deep breath and then his eyes are back on her. “Do you really want Booth or any of his contacts knowing you’re a cop? You’re safe this way, Hailey. You stay alive this way.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make Garrett!” Her throat screams at her in protest as she raises her voice, her words cracking with her exclamation.

He shakes his head at her as he stands from the chair and starts to pace back and forth from the end of her bed to the window at the other side of the room. They’re both stubborn to say the least and the gravity of the situation and stress of the last few months mixed with the events of the last week are ready to boil over.

He stops mid-step in the middle of the room and turns to face her again. She’s only seen him cry once in the last few years they’ve known each other, but here he is looking back at her with his shoulders sagging and his eyes glazed over in some resemblance of defeat and anguish and frustration.

“You’re damn right I made the call Hailey! Because I knew you wouldn’t. Because you’re my partner and the woman who I’d kinda like to spend my life with. So yeah, I made a call that would keep you with me and keep you safe. And if that makes me selfish or possessive or it pisses you off, I gotta tell you I don’t really care as long as it means you don’t end up with a bullet between your eyes.”

She knows he’s protective over her and on some level knows he’s right too, but she can’t help the way her body jolts at the volume of his voice and makes her recoil just a bit further into the pillows behind her.

“I would have - “

“No, you wouldn’t,” he tells her with another shake of his head. “You wouldn’t have. You would’ve seen this thing through until the end, until you ended up dead. I know what he did to you, what he was going to do to you, and I hate the guy too, but I couldn’t let you fall down that rabbit hole. He doesn’t deserve anymore of your time or energy.”

“I can’t just forget about it.”

“And I’d never ask you to Hailey. All I’m asking you to do is let the department push the paper on this prick and you just focus on you. Focus on your recovery, on healing.”

He makes his way back over to the side of her bed and takes a hesitant seat on the edge of it. He reaches an arm out, extending his hand to her, but she doesn’t take it and instead keeps her hands firmly placed in her lap. She shakes her head slowly, not wanting to further aggravate her pounding head, and looks up at him.

“Can you go?”

“Hailey, - “

“Please, Garrett. I just need to be alone right now.”

He sighs and drops his head, and stands from the bed begrudgingly. He leans down over her and kisses the top of her head, whispering “I love you” into her hair.

She gives a short nod of her head in recognition of his words as he takes a step back and walks to the door. She feels his eyes on her, but she can’t bring herself to look at him, and then he’s gone.

The vibrations of the phone in her pocket brings her out of her thoughts and she reaches back for it, seeing her partner’s name on the screen. She quickly swipes to answer.

“Upton...”

XXX

Of all the cases for Intelligence to get pulled into that day it had to be one where initiation day for gang bangers meant the gang rape and murder of a teenage girl.

By the time the team tracks down the offenders they find them dead and castrated, leaving each member of the team in a simultaneous state of relief and shock. The rapists were gone, but now they had to find their murderer. It was a grotesque turn of events that turned their offenders into victims. The world could cruel be cruel sometimes.  

The team chases it down though. They find another girl who had almost been brutalized in the same way and with the help of one of Antonio’s CI’s they’re led to a neighboring sisterhood gang. They have the CI set up a drug deal with the gang and wait it out, and can only hope their lead pays off so that they’re able to close the case and put it behind them.

Hailey and her partner have been sitting in the truck for nearly an hour waiting for the deal to go down, but nothing had popped off yet. Jay sits in the driver’s seat as he usually does and Hailey takes up the passenger seat, both looking out over the dash through the windshield and surveying the scene around them.

She can feel her partner’s eyes on her, has been feeling them on her on and off since they started their stakeout, but he doesn’t say a word to her and she’s grateful. The early morning events that had her struggling to breathe and remembering her own traumatic past, and then finding the bloody body of a teenage girl a few hours after had her mind reeling throughout the day. She couldn’t say she wasn’t relieved when her and her team had found the bangers dead though. It was a sweet return of karma that would have had her smiling if they weren’t now trying to run down the person or persons responsible for their deaths.

She’s so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn’t hear Jay calling her name. Only when he places a hand on her shoulder does she respond and it’s a reaction of flinching so hard she bumps her elbow against the window of the door. He pulls back fast, holding both of his hands up at her in a surrendering gesture.

“You good?” He asks with worry dripping from his voice.

She’s not sure when her breathing picked up or when her heart started beating relentlessly in her chest, and she has to remind herself where she is and who she’s with. She gives a quick nod in reply, but doesn’t say anything.

“You sure? You zoned out on me. Look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’m good,” she says finding her voice and offering a small smile to assure him.

He looks at her curiously as if he doesn’t believe her and rests his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry for freaking you out.”

“It’s fine. Guess I just got distracted,” she tells him.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Hailey shakes her head and smiles again. “I’m good. Just these cases ya know? Hard to handle sometimes.”

He nods because he does know. Between his years serving in the army and serving on the police force, he has seen his fair share of evil and wrong doings. Maybe too much.

“Antonio’s CI said three o’clock right?” She asks him then.

He knows she already knows the answer to her own question, it not being lost on him the way she attempts to divert the conversation, but he doesn’t call her out on it. Instead he takes a quick sip from the cardboard cup of lukewarm coffee he’s got sitting in the console between them before he turns to look back at her.

“Yeah, which means five, maybe six if we’re lucky.”

“Well if you’re looking for punctuality don’t date a CI. Or an Italian for that matter,” she tells him with a smirk and getting a response of raised eyebrows from him in the process.

“I dated a guy from Rome once,” she supplies.

Jay shakes his head as he looks at her, a smile of his own peeking out from the corner of his mouth. “Ya know, we’ve been partners for almost six months now and the more I learn about you, the more I realize I have no clue who you actually are.”

“Good, my plan is working,” she smirks again. Her blue eyes are shining again and smiling feels a little easier now that she’s not caught up in her own thoughts and memories. Her conversation with Jay being a good distraction and she’s grateful.

“Antonio’s plan though, I’m not too sure. Girls are tough to flip,” Hailey tells him a moment later.

“Tougher than boys?” Jay asks.

“Way tougher,” she says.

“So women are more loyal than men?” He presses.

Hailey turns her head and stares back at him with a sure look in her eyes. “Absolutely.”

Jay gives a short nod, taking in her words as a comfortable silence fills the cab of the truck. She thinks over his previous words of how long they’ve been partners for and she’s suddenly taken aback in disbelief. It’s only been six months of them working together, but some days she could swear it feels more like six years.

Jay Halstead had quickly proven to be a great partner to her, had become an unexpected friend, and he was damn good police to boot. She hadn’t been too sure of how things would work out when he got mixed up in dating a drug dealer just a few weeks into their new partnership. She had given him a not so subtle ultimatum of having to find a new partner if he wasn’t going to go to therapy and take it seriously after everything went down. It was the sort of tough love he needed at the time, but he heeded her word and put in the work of facing his own demons and working on himself and opening up to her in the process. It made them a strong pair of partners. It made them better.

There’s a sudden churning in her stomach as she remembers the things he doesn’t know about her and what she carries with her each and every day. The sacrifices she’s had to make and the things she keeps so close to the vest, the secrets she’s been holding back. She realizes she might not have been as good of a friend to him as he’s been to her over their short time working together as she recognizes the knot that’s taking form inside of her is feeling a lot like guilt. There’s a fleeting moment where she wonders if she’s the one who needs to try therapy again.

She doesn’t have time to fester over it long though because Antonio’s CI finally arrives and the drug deal goes down. She clears her mind as best she can and forces herself to focus on the task at hand. They have a house to raid and a murderer to find.

XXX

By the time the case is finally closed and she makes her way home, it’s a little after eight at night and Hailey is exhausted. Her bones are aching, desperately in need of another hot shower and the comfort of her bed. She turns the key in the front door, pushes it open, and is immediately greeted by the smell of food. She sighs in grateful relief as she closes the door behind her and locks the deadbolt. She pulls off her jacket and hangs it on a hook on the wall, and then kicks off her boots in the entryway.

When she enters the kitchen she spots another post-it on the door of the microwave.

Dinner :)

She smiles at the note and catches a glimpse of light coming from the living room. She makes her way through the kitchen to the living room and leans against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes land on the couch where someone sits cross legged with a thick textbook in their lap and several notebooks scattered open around them.

“You and your post-it notes,” Hailey teases from the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

“You love ‘em,” the other says without missing a beat and not looking up from their lap.

Hailey pushes herself off the wall and steps further into the living room, dropping down to a chair and folding a leg up underneath her.

“How was your day?”

Hailey shrugs. “Pretty bad case, but it’s over now.”

“I’m sorry babe.”

Hailey shakes her head. “Tell me about your day. More studying I see.”

“Damn bio midterm. My professor has it in for me I swear.”

“Vanessa, you’re one of the smartest people I know. You’re gonna do great just like you always do,” Hailey tells the young woman.

The brunette looks over at Hailey and grins back at her, her brown eyes shining. “You’re the best hype-woman, ya know that?”

Hailey returns the smile, but shakes her head again. “I only speak the truth.”

Vanessa waves her off, blushing at the compliment, and nods her head towards the kitchen. “You should eat. I bet you haven’t done that yet today.”

“I swear sometimes you’re more like my mother than my friend-slash-roommate-slash - “

“Just go eat, will you? I hate dealing with a hangry Hailey.”

Hailey scoffs as she stands from the chair. “I do not get hangry.”

Vanessa just hums knowingly in response, returning her attention to the book in her lap. She looks up again a moment later when Hailey calls out to her and points above them.

“I’m assuming she’s asleep,” Hailey says.

Vanessa nods her head. “You know how the early days go. They wipe her out.”

“Yeah,” Hailey says quietly with a nod of her own. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome,” Vanessa tells her and then she goes to leave the room.

A beat passes before she hears, “Hey Hailey?”

The blonde turns back around to face her friend, a curious look on her face.

“You can’t do this forever ya know?”

“What’s that?” Hailey asks even though she’s sure she knows what’s coming next.

“Hide her from the world,” Vanessa says simply and a look of something mirroring regret washes over Hailey’s face instantly.

“I know,” Hailey tells her. She takes a step back and lifts a hand up in a short wave. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Vanessa calls back before burying her face down into her schoolwork again.

Hailey retreats back into the kitchen and heads for the microwave, but the idea of food no longer excites her. She just wants to sleep and ignore the feeling of guilt that starts churning over again in her stomach. She blows out a deep sigh and opens the door of the microwave. She pulls out the Tupperware container waiting for her and moves it to the fridge, grabs a bottle of water for herself, and then heads up the stairs.

She stops in the hallway outside of a closed door just two doors down from her own bedroom. She opens the door carefully, being as quiet as she can be, and steps inside. There’s a nightlight on one wall casting a soft yellow glow throughout the room and a twin sized bed against the opposite wall.

She makes her way to the side of the bed and immediately feels the stress from the day begin to roll off her shoulders as she looks down at the little girl burrowed under blankets and sleeping soundly. She can’t help smiling at the sight of messy blonde curls splayed out on a pillow and the stuffed teddy clutched under a little arm.

Her mind goes back to Vanessa’s words and her earlier thoughts of her partner, how she hasn’t been as forthcoming with him as he’s been with her, and she lets out a quiet sigh. It’s been six months of keeping certain parts of herself closed off, of keeping secrets from her partner and fellow team members, and she wonders if maybe she can actually trust him – them, with the most important thing in her life, with the biggest part of her.

Hailey pushes the thoughts from her mind for the time being as she brushes a finger over the little girl’s cheek, and then leans down to press a gentle kiss to the child’s forehead.

“Mama loves you,” she whispers.

[backdraft-bimbo]

couldn't say just how I love you

Sam just wants to feel the warmth of another person right now, and that person just happens to be Bucky.

Yeah, that must be why, he settles; convenience.

Words: 1699

Chapters: 1/1

ao3 link

Sam squints across the shrimping boat as Bucky fiddles with his forearm. He’s barely made an inch of progress with it, yet the guy hasn’t asked for any help so far. It’s kind of ridiculous since Sam–the Falcon for crying out loud–is over here with two capable hands, ten beautiful fingers, and a proficient enough background in engineering to fix Bucky’s shit for him.

Broody Mcgee is either a whole ‘nother level of stubborn when it comes to accepting help, or he’s just a shy person, which Sam finds to be a hilarious deduction. Who the hell’s ever heard of a shy ex-assassin? Plus, this is the same guy who went chuteless out of a plane, flew face first into the trees, and had the wind knocked out of him–with all of it caught on camera. But for some reason, Bucky never asked Sam to delete the footage (before Redwing bit the dust), so he really doubts it’s a pride thing.

Maybe Bucky just needs a push.

“Do you even know what you’re doing over there, Buck? ‘Cause it doesn’t look to me–“

“No, I got it–“

“–like you know what you’re doing. You want some help?” Sam offers, raising his hands placatingly. “No shame. I worked on Redwing for years, so I’ve got my hands around tech before.”

Bucky grips his bradawl tighter, digging rather aggressively into his bionic arm. “No, seriously . I’m fine.” Sam cringes; he’s definitely doing more damage using one hand for repairs. The wires are all crooked in the part where the Flag-Smasher kicked it in–much more internal damage than Sam expected coming out of that skirmish.

“You are a stubborn man–and I don’t just mean that metal arm you've been poking at the last hour. I think the arm is the most agreeable part of you. It doesn’t complain any time I try to help it.”

Bucky groans, slamming his bradawl back on the boat table. “If I say ‘okay’ will you shut up already?”

“Definitely not,” Sam grins. “But your annoyance is noted.”

“Have you ever dealt with vibranium? ‘Cause if not–”

Sam stops him. “You had a titanium arm before, right? The one with the commie star on the shoulder?”

Bucky grumbles out an affirmation.

“Perfect,” Sam says, “how different can they be?”

A look of mild alarm crosses Bucky’s face. It’s kind of hilarious. “Well–”

“Forget I asked,” Sam says cordially, fully prepared to keep messing with Bucky. The guy is just so easy sometimes. He jogs over from the boat’s rusty bow pulpit and slaps his hands together. “C’mon, man, what’s up with your weird ‘I’d rather die than let Sam help me’ attitude?”

Bucky fleetingly glances at Sam, then back at his mangled arm, and furrows his eyebrows in that way he does whenever he’s deliberating whether or not to share something. Sam is unfortunately so used to Bucky shutting down that it comes as a surprise to him when the guy actually speaks up.

“It’s just frustrating, okay?” he says, voice rough and gravelly. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t think I’m ever gonna be used to only having one arm.”

Sam sobers up a bit. So that’s why.

“I just...wanna be able to fix this shit up to prove to myself that, y’know...that I can do it.”

A few seagulls squawk overhead as Bucky’s words sink in. Sam doesn’t know why he’s never considered the possibility that Bucky might not totally be over losing his arm. Hell, Sam feels kind of foolish for missing it; he used to deal with soldiers coming back from war zones missing a limb or two.

“Nah, man,” Sam says after a thoughtful pause. “That’s not stupid at all.”

Bucky doesn’t respond to that, and Sam doesn’t expect him to. The guy silently shifts his bionic arm so that Sam can sit down and work on it, side-eyeing him like he’s weighing whether or not he should have said anything. I guess decades of being a Prisoner of War and brainwashed HYDRA assassin will do that to you, Sam meditates.

He and Bucky have had their share of falling outs. Hell, just a few days ago they were promising to take separate long vacations apart. They both said shitty things. So what? That doesn’t mean Sam can’t feel for the guy. He catches himself occasionally ruminating all that Bucky has been through and finds that he can’t go too long without needing a break. But that’s Bucky’s life; ain’t exactly like he can just take a pause from it. It sort of breaks Sam’s heart in a way he can’t explain; all those years Bucky can’t get back...

“Sam?”

Sam blinks, not realizing he’d been staring. The shadow of a smile has crossed Bucky’s face.

“Looks like I’m not the only one with the staring problem.”

Sam shakes his head, blinking some more. Geez. What were they doing again?

Bucky looks at him half-expectantly, half-amusedly. He gestures loosely at his arm. “Go crazy, man.”

“Right. Right, the arm.” Sam grapples with the tools splayed out on the splintery table, trying to recall what he needs with an odd sense of urgency. Why the hell is he forgetting everything? Last time he checked, empathy isn’t supposed to instill this kind of reaction.

“Take your time,” Bucky says... nicely? And all right, that’s another Bucky-related thing Sam has to set aside for later. It’s an extraordinarily long list, but Sam’s got shit to do right now. He exhales deeply and focuses all of his attention on the job before him.

It’s easy to get into a rhythm. The slight breeze and white noise waves blend together as Sam zones in on Bucky’s arm, the two settling into a comfortable silence. The atmosphere is sublime for fixing broken things–the Wilson family shrimping boat always seemed to do that. Sam wonders if Bucky feels it too; maybe it’s just his own nostalgia. Whenever Sam thinks of his parents on deck, laughing and telling anecdotes to their relatives...it makes Sam feel like an invincible kid again. He can do anything as long as he can tap into those memories.

When the wires start looking right, Sam can’t tell how long it’s been since they started. The freaking sea, man. Gotta be more careful next time. The sights and sounds of the shore are too hypnotic; before you know it, the seagulls have left and the sun is already setting on the horizon. Judging by the dimmer light, it’s probably early evening now.

Sam looks up at Bucky for the first time in what feels like ages. The guy’s resting his chin on his right hand, eyes closed as the invisible fingers of the breeze comb through his dark hair. And wow, he looks peaceful –a word Sam seldom uses when it comes to Bucky Barnes. The profile view is making him notice things, which is probably why Sam is opening his mouth before better judgement can grab him by the collar.

He stops fiddling with Bucky’s arm and leans forward.

“Dude, you got loooong eyelashes.”

Bucky shifts at that, eyebrows furrowing back into their natural state, and the idyllic moment is broken. All right, so Sam can admit that was a random, out-of-left-field observation probably suited for a different time. But give him a break, he’s been looking at wires for like three hours straight. Sam is nevertheless grateful Bucky doesn’t comment on his weirdness. The guy just glances down at his new and improved arm and gives Sam a stoic nod of approval.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Bucky says. “So, uh, thanks.”

“Still gotta test it,” Sam replies, strangely off-put by Bucky’s honesty. But, to be fair, there’s a lot of crazy new stuff happening today. For example, Sam must be getting old, because the moment he stands up from his chair, hoping to get some blood moving, a rush of lightheadedness washes over him, and he’s forced to lean his hips against the table for a second.

He shakes his head, laughing at himself. “Shit.”

“You okay?” Bucky asks skeptically, staring up at Sam with his big blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just test-run this thing, Cyborg Man. I need a nap.”

Sarah must’ve put something in the carrot souffle, because Sam is seriously on a roll with odd behavior today. It might be because it’s Saturday and none of his family are watching, or because he and Bucky aren’t out on a mission for once, but there’s absolutely no justification Sam can think of other than complete self-indulgence for why he wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. With his left hand, Sam lifts up the vibranium arm, bends it back and forth, nods to himself, and says, “Looks good.”

For a second, Bucky is craning his neck back, gaping at Sam like he’s grown a second head. As quickly as that expression comes, though, it’s gone a second later, and Bucky returns to his familiar guise of reservation, shifting his gaze to Sam’s handiwork, a faint tint of traitorous red rising to his cheeks. Sam leans forward farther, sighing heavily into Bucky’s shoulder, like they’re already at this stage of intimacy. But Sam lets the fact that this isn’t as per usual blissfully fly over his head, because he’s tired and sore and can’t give a shit anymore.

Sam just wants to feel the warmth of another person right now, and that person just happens to be Bucky.

Yeah, that must be why , he settles; convenience.

Bucky just sits there silently and lets Sam lean against him, the exhaustion drooping off his shoulders and into the creaky old wood of the Wilson family boat. He shifts for a second, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Eventually, Sam is moving up and away, sliding his hands off Bucky’s body, a strange fluttery feeling enveloping him. He tries not to think about how much he didn’t want that to end, or how badly he misses the touch when it’s gone, but–

For another time, Sam promises himself.

Neither of them say a word as they walk back to Sarah’s.

[thrillridesz]

no other ▫ sunwoo

➳ pairing: sunwoo x older!reader ➳ genre: fluff ➳ word count: 2.7k ➳ requested?: yes

“Does this look good on me?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Sunwoo narrowed his eyes at Eric, who was sitting on the bed and clearly too preoccupied with his video game to pay much attention to whatever he was asking him. So much for having a second opinion from Eric. 

“Wow, your opinions are so useful,” he bit out each word in a sarcastic tone, feeling more irritated by the second as Eric waved a hand nonchalantly without even tearing his eyes away from the screen for even a millisecond.

“Don’t mention it.”

Before Eric even had the time to react, a pillow was hurtled towards his head at a speed that would make even professional football stars kowtow. Alarmed, Eric dropped his phone onto the floor with a loud clatter as he glared at Sunwoo.

“What was that for?”

“The least you could was give me your honest opinion. Seriously, I don’t think I’m asking for much here.” The latter replied dryly, his expression void of any form of remorse. “I didn’t ask you over to play games on your phone while I model in front of you like an idiot.”

Rubbing his face, Eric groaned, “All of this just for a date?”

Sunwoo glowered at his words and a steady, growing heat crept up to his cheeks.

“You know how much I’ve been looking forward to this date with y/n.”

“Yeah but still.” Eric shot back, picking up his phone and inspecting it for cracks. When he found none, he heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Man, if there were any cracks, I would have had your neck.”

“Oh please, I could you take out in a minute.”

Sunwoo had to resist the urge to shake him as he kept his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Sometimes, hanging out with Eric felt like he was voluntarily giving up years of his life while trying not to lose his temper. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the mirror and focused on his outfit. He can’t afford to get anymore creases on his forehead because of Eric of all people.

Red flannel, denim jeans and black converse sneakers. Scrunching up his nose in distaste, he asked, “Do you think I’d look better if I...” - he reached over to his cupboard and grabbed a black beanie, placing it over his head - “Wear it with the beanie or without?”

Eric regarded him for a second, pursing his lips as if deep in thought.

“Without. For sure, without the beanie.”

“Thank you,” Sunwoo rolled his eyes. “For being actually helpful for once.” Tossing the beanie to the side, he mussed up his hair and frowned as he scrutinised himself in the mirror. Seemingly unsatisfied, he flattened his hair again and noticed Eric’s incredulous expression from the reflection.

“This is honestly the first time I’ve seen you care so much about something.”

“Well obviously, you don’t know me enough if you’re saying that. I care about a lot of things.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Just not me, huh.”

“Yeah, nah. You’re not worth my time.”

Eric clutched onto his heart and wailed in a fake cry, “Ouch. I’m hurt.”

That was the thing about Eric. He was always able to make him smile no matter what. Smiling, Sunwoo quipped, “Stop being dramatic.”

“Why are you so hung up over this anyways?” Eric questioned as he laid back on the bed. “It’s just a date.”

Sunwoo stiffened. He couldn't possibly tell Eric that this was his first date ever. He would never hear the end of it. 

“Yeah, sure. It's just a date but it’s with y/n.” As he said that, his expression softened as his thoughts drifted to you. 

The two of you had met on his first day at school as a new transfer student. He wasn’t what you would call a model student and he certainly didn’t look the part. With a scruffy demeanor and unkempt hair, nobody had really dared to approach him. It didn’t help that there were rumours flying around that he had only transfer to your school because he had gotten in serious trouble in his previous one. 

Students avoided talking to him and teachers would regard him with caution and suspicion in their eyes. It wasn’t like Sunwoo cared all that much about what people thought about him but deep down, it did hurt a little although he would never admit it. As he packed up his stuff at the end of the day, his ears picked up on the sound of whisperings not too far from him.

“I heard he beat up a guy in his old school...”

“Really? That’s terrible....”

When he turned, the group of students jumped and immediately dispersed as if a single glance from him was enough to scare them off. Although there was an expression of indifference on his face, he gripped tightly onto the straps of his backpack as he made his way past them. It was almost comical how they inched out of the way while he walked by. The day had gone by quietly as humanely possible and not one single moment, did Sunwoo ever open his mouth to make conversation with someone else. 

“Whatever. Their loss,” He thought to himself, a bitter taste in his mouth. Rounding a corner, he walked smack into someone and various art supplies spilled out from the box the student was carrying. 

“I’m so sorry! I should have been looking!” You apologised, a flustered look on your face as you held your hands out to help him.

“You should really watch where you’re going.” He replied, frowning as he dusted flecks of dried paint from his sleeves. Bending down to help you pick up the fallen supplies, he got his first good look at you and nearly lost his balance.

Woah.

He always did have many admirers and have been on the receiving end of quite a few confessions, all of which he appreciated but did not reciprocate. None of them have ever managed to get him to feel how you made him feel within seconds. As you smiled at him and reached out to take the sketchbook from his hands, Sunwoo felt a jolt of electricity run through him when your finger briefly touched his. That beautiful, kind smile of yours did things to his heart and for a moment, he thought himself to be crazy. 

What is this feeling?

“Thank you! I’m really sorry about that by the way, I guess I wasn’t looking. I’ll see you!” You said with a sheepish smile, wrapping your arms around the large box piled high with brushes, palettes and drawing materials. The box was clearly too big for your frame and you struggled to get a proper, firm grip around it. The contents inside the box were dangerously close to spilling out as you balanced it precariously in your arms. He stood stock still as he watched you walk away before he shook himself back to his senses. 

“W-Wait!”

Since you couldn’t turn back without risking everything from falling out again, you could only crane your head back. 

“Yeah?”

Sunwoo willed himself to approach you although his legs were starting to feel like jelly and his heart was pounding so furiously against his chest. This was the first time he felt so nervous around someone else, yet there was also a strangely warm feeling he couldn’t help but crave already. 

When you looked him in the eye, he actually felt his heart stutter and there was short pause as he struggled to find words to say. 

“Can I help you?”

“I... No, I was just wondering if you needed help with those?” He asked, holding out his hands. You beamed at his offer but shook your head.

“It’s alright! I’ve got this. Thank you so much for offering though,” you replied, heaving the box up a little higher when a paintbrush slid dangerously close to the edge.

“I insist.” He smiled shakily.

Sunwoo later found out that you were a part of school’s art club and even though he didn’t have an ounce of artistic talent or drawing skills in him, he put his name down on the sign up sheet anyways. Seeing you at every art meet would be the highlight of his day and after that first run in, you had recognised him and struck up a conversation with him before he could talk to you. Internally, he was glad that you did because it meant that he wouldn’t need to worry about messing up in front of you yet on the other hand, his heart was almost bursting with anxiety. 

The two of you grew close as the days passed and because of your friendship with Sunwoo, people started being less intimidated by him. People were starting to talk to him or even invite him out on outings. If it wasn’t already impossible, he felt himself liking you more and more as the days went by. Before long, he found himself working up the courage to ask you out. 

This was a tricky thing for him since firstly, he had never been on a date and secondly, you were older than he was. When he had told Eric, the one person he trusted second to you that he harboured a crush on you, the man had burst out laughing. There was a certain sort of stigma in school around liking a senior if you were a guy yet Sunwoo didn’t care. Why should age be a factor in liking someone?

When he had finally worked up the courage to ask you out, he almost chickened out at the last minute. What if you rejected him? What if he somehow messed this up? Sunwoo wasn’t a guy who easily got shaken or afraid but when it came to this, he would honestly have much rather leap off a cliff than go through the jitters of it all. 

One can only imagine the sheer joy and relief he felt when you uttered the answer he so desperately wanted to hear from you.

“Yes. Of course, I would love to go on a date with you!”

Call him a drama king but it was like fireworks erupting around him when you said yes. You know that feeling when you ace a test when you thought you had messed it up once and for all? That was exactly how he felt. That joy was short-lived however, as he realised with a start that he had to now impress on the date.

“I just really want this date to go well.” Sunwoo declared firmly, straightening and giving his reflection a final once over. 

“Alright, dude. Good luck!”

Grabbing his keys and fixing his shirt, he asked absent-mindedly, “What’s the time anyways?”

Eric squinted at the time displayed on the digital clock at the bedside table. “It’s 1:16pm.”

Wait... What?

Immediately, the colour disappeared from Sunwoo’s face as he turned to look at the time. The red digits on the clock stare back at him and he felt his stomach churn. He was supposed to meet you at 1:30pm at the cafe!

“Oh. Oh, hell no. I’m late!” He shrieked frantically as he made a mad dash for the door, almost tripping over his own foot.

“Classic. I’ll just carry on with my game,” Eric yawned, picking up his phone as the door closed behind him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Crouching over with his hands on his knees, Sunwoo could hear his heart beating in his ear as he gasped for air.

He might have busted a lung but he didn’t really care. As he panted, he whipped out his phone to check the time.

1:45pm. Fuck. He’s 15 minutes late to the date.

Quickly, Sunwoo pushed open the door to the café and his eyes immediately brightened at the sight of you sitting at a corner near the window. Mentally, he willed himself to calm down as he tried to steady his breathing. His hair was sticking in all directions, his entire body was sweaty and his face was red and blotchy from exertion but he didn’t have a choice. He had to make do.

“Y/n!” He called out, voice slightly trembling from his nerves.

You turned around at his voice and smiled, causing his heart to clench. Why do you always have to look so beautiful? It’s not fair. You always look so effortlessly amazing and he’s just a sweaty, nervous wreck whenever you were around.

Grinning brightly, Sunwoo started towards you. He should really have seen the guy incoming on his left but he realised that a little too late when he felt the boiling hot chocolate drink spill out onto the front of his shirt.

It took him a split second to react and with a yelp, he probably made himself look like a total clown as he scrambled back, wringing his sore hands of the sweet, hot liquid.

Gasps could be heard and as Sunwoo clutched onto his reddened hand and grazed his fingers over his burned waist, he couldn’t help but feel extremely embarrassed. His hand and waist may feel like it’s burning but it was nothing compared to the heat in his cheeks. So much for a perfect first date and with you no less. He was sure he’d made a fool of himself right there and then.

He barely even registered it when you rushed forward, a look of concern on your face as you held his hand.

“Oh my god, are you ok? We need to get you some ointment immediately!” You said as you held onto his hand.

Sunwoo nodded quietly with face was downcast as though he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye.

The two of you sat underneath a giant oak tree at the park as he lifted up his shirt to expose his raw, now angrily red torso.

Your eyes widened as you realised just how toned and chiseled he was but quickly masked it over as you squeeze out a dollop of burn cream onto your fingers. Dabbing gingerly at his wound, you hesitated as he flinched, his teeth gritted in pain as you made contact.

“Does it hurt a lot?” You asked softly.

“Um... Yeah, a little,” he replied in a small voice, his eyes avoiding yours. There was a pause before he added, “Look, I’m really sorry for how this date turned out.”

You stopped what you were doing and gazed up at him in total shock. What was he saying?

Sunwoo’s face was turned away as he continued on.

“It’s all my fault this date is ruined and I know you probably don’t expect much from me but this must have been even lower than your lowest expectations. I may be younger but I swear I can be as good as the seniors, it’s just that today just wasn’t the day I guess. I showed up late, clowned myself-”

You quickly placed a finger over his plump lips, shushing him immediately as he gazed at you in surprise.

“Don’t say another word! This isn’t your fault, Sunwoo. Please don’t blame yourself.” You said in a tone of disbelief. To think he would beat himself up over this was completely beyond you.

His eyes softened and he murmured against your finger.

“Weely?”

The feeling of his moving lips on your skin felt searing hot as you withdrew your finger, your body tingling at the sensation and blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Yes. There is no other like you. I wouldn’t have traded this date in for the world.” You smiled as you watched his lips tug into a huge, genuine beam.

“That... That meant a lot to me... Thank you.” He whispered, suddenly shy.

You can only chuckle at how cute he was before you stood up, holding out a hand.

“Let’s just enjoy our day together, okay? We could start by shopping for a new shirt.” You laughed, gesturing vaguely at the large darkened stain on his shirt.

Sunwoo looked up at you. The sunlight was shining on the side of your face and it brought out the liveliness in your eyes, your hair framing your face in the most elegant way possible. If you didn't already look beautiful in his eyes, you certainly were now. 

He felt his heart flutter wildly and he grinned as he clasped his hand with yours.

“Okay.”