#the game and know where the hell you should go and show to calculate jumps and turns

[shiroselia]

I think my take as a person who is generally pretty consistently good at champs is that while I like that SSE are actively updating them because god knows some of us (me) have been doing these same laps for literally like 7 years, I do hope that they keep the technical skill of atleast Some of the champs intact, because I do think that all the new updated versions so far have been a Little bit more streamlined and made easier (Moorland and the Pony are basically the same and I think Fort Pinta Needed the changes it had cause that wasn’t hard because it was challenging it was hard because the mechanics were poorly implemented), which for the current trio is fine, but if they make like, your Golden Hills of the world (probably the most challenging start out of the bunch imo) or your New Hillcrests of the world (which has a section where your timing will literally make you top 5 or bottom 5) super streamlined and really easy I think I’ll be a little sad not because I don’t think champs should be accessible and playable but because quite frankly after over a decade they’re undoubtedly the most fun

A genuine critique of the new champs though, holy Shit they need to be framerate checked better some of the new mechanics will drop My overqualified computer into literally 7 second freeze frames and I can’t even imagine what some of y’all on worse computers are dealing with (especially when, atleast in Moorlands case where it’s also the most offensive because it’s supposed to be the easiest and most accessible probably, said lag doesn’t come from the active features in the champ but from wholly useless and purely cosmetic things that don’t matter at all and are only there for SSE to poorly flex how much better they’ve gotten at making graphics, which rings very poor when said flexing makes the champ unplayable)

[erensrag]

bimbo!reader x judgmental nerd eren

eren x y/n (wc: 3173)

warnings: nswf, slut shaming, slight dubious consent

i don’t think i did this correctly….

"no please, take your time. it's not like we've been here for hours." eren's sharp voice brings you out of your thoughts.

his piercing gaze is right there to meet yours when you finally stop staring at the wall. you chew on your pencil, quickly diverting your attention to the paper in front of you. you've done your best to avoid looking at him the majority of the time you've been here.

it's not your fault you can't look into his eyes for longer than a second. he's the one who's always observing you with that cold, calculating stare. you've been on the end of judgmental looks and not so quiet whispers for years now and have learned to not let them bother you—well you thought you mastered the art of simply ignoring those kinds of people. until eren.

you didn't even know he existed until a few weeks ago. the introduction for you two consisted of a simple bumping into each other in the crowded hallways of school, it ended with him bitterly muttering something about idiot cheerleaders as he stumbled away. not even sparing you a second glance. after that, you saw him often and he made his dislike for you evidently clear.

which makes no sense. how can someone not like you?

it's usually jealous girls giving you the stink eye and making up the ridiculous rumors. they're the ones who don't want to associate themselves with you. not nerdy nobodies who can't walk without stumbling over their own two feet. no, people like him usually worship the ground you walk on. or at least drool a little.

seriously you've tried everything to get rid of that menacing stare and frigid tone he always greets you with. it's like he's immune. "jesus y/n, how dumb are you?"

and they definitely don't talk to you like that. you know you're not the brightest, which is why your teacher got this jerk of a nerd to tutor you right before exam week but is that really an excuse for him to treat you like this? biting the inside of your cheek, you nudge a corner of your sweater until your left shoulder is exposed. leaning forward and batting your eyelashes which gets no response from him other than a blank stare. "i'm not dumb. i just don't get it." you pout. "can't you just tell me the answer? we've spent like thirty minutes on this question."

"thirty minutes cause you're an idiot." he mutters more to himself.

"i'm trying my best!"

"you should've learned this months ago. you would've if you didn't spend your time skipping class to hang out with your pig muscle boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend..." you go back to chewing on the pencil.

"so you just make out with any guy behind the bleachers?"

"you seem to know a lot about me." you look at him again, that stupid cold stare looking back at you through those glasses.

"who doesn't. you're y/n. the whole school knows of your...activities."

"those are just rumors." some of them are. most are true. you enjoy living life to the fullest. it's not your fault the people in your school saw a confident, attractive woman and instantly decided to put less than appealing labels on her. "and besides they're none of your business."

"whatever. just solve this, this is taking longer than our usual sessions and my mom will be home soon."

you groan, looking down at the textbooks and not understanding a single word. “please just tell me the answers.” you ask one last time, desperate.

“no.”

you huff, returning your attention to the book. “you’re going to age badly with all that scowling you do. just so you know.”

“shut up.”

"eren..." you say after five minutes which causes a frustrated sigh to leave his lips. "do you have an issue with me?" it's been four sessions of the frigid tension he always puts between you two and there's a lot more to come before graduation so you just want to get whatever problems he has with you out of the way.

it takes a few seconds before he's looking up from the textbook, pushing his glasses up as he sends you probably the most intimidating glare you've seen from him. "excuse me?" the very tone of his voice has goosebumps forming on your skin but you force yourself to stand your ground. you're not going to let some loser who's probably never even kissed someone to look down on you.

"you— you just seem to—"

"i don't have an issue with you y/n." he slams the book on the table causing you to jump. "having an issue with someone like you would imply i care enough and trust me i'll never care for such a ditzy little slut who doesn't respect herself."

you've been called worse than that and usually by scorned boys you hooked up with. but they were popular gym rats, not some overconfident lanky freak. you had a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but with the cogs in your brain suddenly malfunctioning, you could only stutter out a pathetic, "i—i'm none of those things!"

"really?" he scoffs, actually getting up and walking over and as he does you think maybe it would've been a safer option to just keep your mouth shut. "wide doe eyes without nothing behind them. check." he starts. "plump lips perfect for what you do best. check." and the asshole has the nerve to slowly swipe his fingers across your bottom lip.

you should stand up, tell him to go to hell and get out of here but you're frozen. limbs not moving an inch as he continues, "empty little head. check. skimpy outfits to attract attention. check. i mean let's face the facts.."

you never would've thought the loser that always sits in the back of the class with his nose buried deep in a book would speak like this to you. it's insulting. freaking degrading. he knows nothing about you and yet he has that expression on his face like he does. "if i'm such a ditzy little slut as you so nicely put then i'd be jumping at the chance to hook up with you but here we are." you seethe.

that seems to finally strike a nerve as he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. you cut him off before he can defend himself.

"is that it...you're angry i haven't made a move on you because that's what sluts do isn't it? bone everything they see? is your pride wounded that i don't see you in that way, eren?" you let out a mirthless laugh. "well news flash, pretty girls like me don't go for freaks like you."

you got up, ready to grab your things and run out all while trying to ignore the nerves inside of you. he just stands there, rigid and glaring. "really?" he asks once your books are back in your bag.

"y—yes. now if you'll excuse me—" your wrist is being grabbed before you can take another step and for a second both of you are stunned, you mostly frozen in your spot because this creep has the audacity to touch you after everything he just said. you don't know what his excuse is but he only stands there like a shocked puppy before pushing you on the desk.

a gasp escapes your lips at being manhandled by him  of all people, what the fuck is he doing? you're on your stomach, feet on the ground as the fucker puts a hand on your back, keeping you there. "w-what are you doing?" you pant out, bewildered at everything that just happened.

"i..." he trails off, not saying anything before manhandling you again. only this time it's for you to lay on your back and fuck, you could fight back. he's surprisingly strong for such a lanky freak but you're a cheerleader who does complex moves out on the field almost every day. you could kick him off, slam that big textbook in his face to the point his nose breaks and run out, making sure to report him.

but you don't. it's not that you can't. for some reason, you just don't want to. maybe it's curiosity, to see what exactly he plans on doing. to see if a loser like him actually has the balls to do anything but back away and apologize profusely.

"you're not fighting back." he simply says, sounding a bit confused as he comes to lean over your body. his hands on either side of your head as he stares down, those stupid piercing eyes staring down at you. "why?"

"shouldn't i be the one asking the questions here? like why the fuck you have me on this desk?"

he raises an eyebrow, leaning back and grabbing your thighs causing you to squeal in surprise. he spreads them, raising the dress you’re wearing until it's pooling at your stomach before you can even blink.

shit. what's wrong with him?

what's wrong with you? you should be kicking at him, you could easily shove him off. you could do it in a blink of an eye so why the hell aren't you.

where there's supposed to be fear...there's only anticipation. "you really are a slut." he laughs cruelly, pulling your panties down until they're completely off. where he throws them, you don't know. probably in some corner to hide so you forget about them, who knows what a pervert like him would do with it?

"you barely know me and yet...look at this." you shudder as his finger circles your clit before swiping across your cunt, bringing his hand up to show you your slick as if for emphasis.

"shut up." you grit through your teeth. "you're—" you don't have time to finish your insult before he's kneeling down, tongue immediately latching onto your clit.

your nails instantly scrape against the desk, shuddering as he begins to suckle on your clit. his tongue delves into you, fingers digging into your thighs on purpose as if the freak wants to hurt you. you can play that game too if he wants, fingers going to grab at the strands of his dark hair, pulling as you ground your hips against his annoyingly experienced tongue.

usually, your sexual partners don't willingly choose to eat you out but here is he. practically eager to get to business. he acted so high and mighty and still has the gall to continue doing so yet he's the one on his knees right now. freaking nerds are so easy. even overly judgmental ones with sharp gazes.

he’s basically lapping at you, moving from sucking your clit to eagerly drinking up your juices. never coming up for air as if he was made to simply do this. "f—fuck." you didn't want to make any noises, any implications that what he's doing is actually making you feel good but dammit it's hard when a tongue is diving deep into your most sensitive parts.

a particular bite has you instantly bringing your legs together but he quickly grabs them, forcing them apart to shove his face in between your thighs again. your breath catches in your throat as he licks up your dripping pussy. he doesn’t relent even once and the moans won’t stop escaping your lips, “sl—slow down. gonna…dammit.”

his tongue licks…freaking everywhere. the obscene noises causing you to hang your head back, he’s licking and sucking everything up as if it’s his favorite meal.

and it’s embarrassing. how fast you come. but how can not you? you mercilessly pull at his hair and shamelessly moan when you do. somehow you're the sweating and panting one as he stands up. "so that's what all the hype is about?" he tsk, seemingly bored.

it takes a few seconds for you to find the breath to say “don't act like you didn't enjoy that, with the way you were eagerly—”

"shut up." he takes his glasses off, putting them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

"you're disgusting, you know? the nerve you have—"

"i spent the last two hours teaching you simple biology and somehow you couldn't do one question by yourself, if i'm testy that's all on you.

"it's not my fault." it comes out as a whine and you hate it, you were supposed to be insulting him. at least have some pride when you're about to be fucked by the guy who looks at you like you're nothing but a dirty piece of gum.

"shut up, for crying out loud. shut up." his voice is raspy as he unbuckles the belt to his revolting khakis.

you can't help as your eyes widen once his cock is in view. for such a nerd, he's actually packing. one hand holds your hips as the other guides his dick towards your leaking area and slight panic starts to take over. "a-aren't you gonna prep?" as orgasmic as that oral job was, you doubt just that will be enough to prepare you for that.

he grins, probably the first smile you've ever seen on his annoyingly handsome face. "don't worry, i'm sure a slut like you has a loose enough cunt."

"you little shit! that's—" your words get caught in your throat, back arching as he moves his hips forward, piercing inside of you. "fuck."

a broken sound leaves your lips as he continues to push his length in. it doesn't hurt like you expected it to but there's still a strong ache that you know will leave you limping tomorrow morning. it burns, burns so good you have to squeeze your eyes shut. you need something to hold onto as he starts to move, anything to give you some sort of balance but the flat surface underneath you offers no help. "ngh...eren..." you're not sure what you want to say but he doesn't give you time to think of something before he sets a rhythm.

it's surprisingly slow at first, like he wants you to feel every vein on his cock and you do. your walls desperately clench around him as you bite on your bottom lip, the room suddenly feeling too hot as his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. into that stupid gaze he won't stop staring at you with. his mouth is slightly open but no sound comes out. he's perfectly collected and you hate it. people like him should be cumming the second you touch them but he's...it's annoying.

his pace starts to speed up—he doesn't even give it another second before he's ramming inside of you. holding your hips with both hands as he sets a brutal pace that has you moving up and down the desk. "p-pretty decent for a nerd—ah!"

still, he stays silent. ugh, what's wrong with him? you bring your arm up to your mouth, muffling the moans spilling out of your lips in spite but his hands are immediately pulling them off. he chuckles, coming close enough that his breath fans against your face and a lewd moan comes out of you as he hits an even deeper spot. "don't do that, we all know this is what you want. to be fucked hard and fast to the point you're nothing but a mindless whore whose only purpose is to scream in pleasure."

you don't respond, biting down hard on your lips. his thrusts became more aggressive as he scoffs, "fine." his hand finds its way to your throat, squeezing slightly.

you suck in a shuddering breath just as his hold tightens, bordering on dangerous but for some reason the lack of air only makes your pussy throb, clenching tight around him. why does it feel good? why does everything he's doing to you only make you want more? his thrusts have now gotten erratic, almost forcing your body off the desk but the hold on your hips and throat keep you right where you are. you want to let out the moan clawing out from inside your throat but his grip stays, merciless as he pounds into you.

you don't know how much of this you can take, everything feels too hot. it's too much. "fuck look at you, didn't think you could look even more dumb." he pants, staring down. he finally removes his hand from your throat and you cry out the second he does.

"eren, please i'm—fuck...too much, it's too much." you gasp even though a sick part of you knows you could do this all night.

but right now...with the way his voice is dripping with cockiness— you hate it, hate the way he looks at you and talks to you. it's infuriating and too much. a tsk comes out of his mouth, "who knew you had a limit?" he rolls his eyes and in the next second, he's spilling inside of you. spilling and spilling until some drip on the floor.

like he's been holding himself back all this time.

fuck. he could've at least let you release a second time. you didn't think the asshole would be finishing right after you said that. you're panting, eyes staring at the white ceiling as he pulls out. he zips up his stupid ugly looking khakis as he steps back. "can you get off my desk now?"

the nerve of him...ugh. you slowly sit up, dress sticking to your skin due to the sweat and you have to refrain from asking to use his shower before leaving.

he gets you your bag and you slowly take it, throat aching and dry. there'll definitely be bruises around your throat and hips tomorrow and you're sure he's secretly delighted at that fact. "uh...." you trail off.

this is usually the part where they ask for your number, pleading for a second night with that desperate look in their eyes but he doesn't even send you another glance as he gathers up the papers on the desk, putting them into a binder. "make sure to study before sleeping tonight...if your body can handle that." his lips slightly curve up at that last part but he's not bragging, no just mocking you.

"o...okay." you lick your dry lips, suddenly needing a mint. "uh...bye?" you stand up too fast, cursing at yourself for it but his arm is around your hips before you can fall.

you bite the inside of your cheek, the proximity too close even though he was just inside of you a minute ago. he sighs, "do you need a ride home?" he asks grudgingly.

and you should say no. you don't need to be in an enclosed space with this asswipe for another second. just say no and walk into class the next day, demanding for another tutor. and then you'll never have to talk to him ever again.

but instead a weak nod comes out.

[theshy1sout]

Change your side

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35638084/chapters/95292580

Short oneshot I was inspired by the "One Hell of the Team - Red Son/Mei MV" on yt, it's ssssssssoooooooooooooo goooooooodddddd Dragonfire, but can be read romantically Late season 2, around episodes 8-9 2k words enjoy :)

________________________________________________________

Boring day. Boring week. Boring month.

A few months actually.

Mei jumps on another paving stone, trying to avoid the lines on the path. She doesn't really put a heart into this game. People are passing her by almost as much dispassionately. Just another step. Just another jump. Just another song playing in her headphones. Just another day of walking alone through the city.

She got used to it.

- Pitiful.

Mei hears that word although the music. Just another jump. Just another step. The stranger is right. This is pitiful. She doesn’t care though. Caring is also boring.

- Look at you.

Her mouth twists with discontent. She gets it. She really gets it. She’s pitiful, but also not in the mood to talk with a random stranger. Just another step…

- Look at you. You could’ve been much more than this.

She steps on the line. Her face frowns slowly in a heavy, unpleasant feeling. Her hand reaches the pocket to turn off the music.

- I know… - Mei admits, putting her headphones off her ears. The stranger really insists on talking and she really has nothing interesting to do. She turns around, showing the guy her face painted with blue. - I know.

The thin street, where the shadow of a man is standing in, is darker than the night around the city. The stranger is leaning against the wall. He seems to feel cool with the position he has chosen. Mei knows a situation should be suspicious for her, yet the silhouette in the dark looks nicely familiar. However, Mei wouldn’t mind meeting a robber or a backstabber in the middle of the night in the street like this. It’d be quite entertaining.

- Have we ever met? - Her question resonates for a minute, disturbing the silence. As if it doesn’t satisfy the street echo enough, it takes the soft chuckles from the stranger's mouth and throws them against the walls. Mei freezes. Only now, without music from her headphones, she recognizes the male voice. Her face slowly brightens with wide-opened eyes and a genuine smile.

- Red Boy!

The silhouette in the dark shakes and freezes. His eyes glint in the shadow.

- It’s such an honor to meet a hero like you on the street - Mei smiles even wider, bowing slightly in theatrical greeting.

- First of all, I’m not a hero - The light of the night lantern reveals his face as he steps closer. - And my name is Red SON. How hard is that to remember?

His annoyance sounds fake when his eyes still shine at her wide grin with genuine surprise.

- How did I deserve your visit, sir? - Her brow raises teasingly.

The demon’s serious sight studies her face in silence. The long while makes it hard for Mei to keep her wide smile. She almost feels his mind calculating something intensively. Red Son hides his hands behind his back.

- Aren’t you bored? - The calm, but heavy question leaves his mouth.

Mei slowly knits her brows. Her lips don't want to smile anymore, but she forces them to stay lifted.

- It’s boring, isn’t it? - Red Son’s tone is deeply confident. - To stay aside? To be in reserve? To never actually use your power?

Her smile cracks into a firmly clenched line.

- You never use your full potential, don’t you? - A little smirk appears on his lips. - You go to waste by living in Monkie Kid’s shadow.

- What do you want - Mei throws at him through her tightly clenched teeth.

Red Son’s smirk gets wide and challenging. His eyes shine mischievously, pinned into her.

- Nothing - He shrugs his shoulders with fake humility. - I’ve just noticed that… you walk alone lately.

- Stalker - Mei mumbles harshly. Red Son chuckles softly, but the word makes his lips shake a little in discomfort.

- He left you.

The girl tries to ignore the cold chill running down her back. The lower and deeper the demon’s voice gets, the harder it is to stand calmly.

- He didn’t even care enough to tell you why - His sight doesn't leave her eyes even for a moment. - Am I right?

Mei looks away.

- Don’t you feel used? Did he thank you for what you’ve done for him even once? You were such a perfect friend, following his dreams and protecting him from any danger. And what did he give you in return? He abandoned you. But I won’t.

Mei turns back to the demon's wide smirk only to see his hand reaching to her in silent offer.

- Join me - His tone never was so deep as he whispers the forbidden words. - Change the side. You will never be satisfied here with them. But with me, you’ll be finally able to spread your dragon wings! What do you say?

The grimly dark street freezes, only to fill with the sound of loud laughter jumping between the walls..

- So that is your plan! - Mei’s grin comes back on her face with relieving amusement. - You will starve Monkie Kid of his best sidekick, making him weaker and yourself stronger. Mk would be completely naked now when Wukong is gone somewhere - She crosses her arms on her chest. - I have to say, it’s pretty clever.

- Wouldn’t that be interesting though? - His hand recoils unhurriedly, while the wide smirk stays unshakably on his lips.

- To leave my safe home and loving friends for a dirty lava cave?

Red Son huffs outraged.

- It’s a castle! And no, I didn't mean to convince you to move to my house!

- I like this restaurant with noodles, you know? - Mei gets down to look up at him teasingly.

- And you know that Noodle Boy doesn't need you to protect him anymore - The demon frowns at her seriously. - You’re never gonna live the life you want with him.

- Huh? So would I if I were on your side? - She throws, twisting her mouth.

- Well, yes. No one will stop you from using your full potential. You will have your own stage, out of the shadow they’re keeping you in. Don’t you understand? This is your chance for something great! - He spreads his arms in emotions. - You can be much more than just a sidekick. You know that.

- For what? - Her chin raises proudly. - For what reason should I use this much power? Why would I want it?

- For yourself! - The demon bridles.

- Well, that isn’t very convincing - Mei hides her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

- You haven’t said “no” though - Red Son points out, putting his hands behind his back.

The night between them freezes. The time seems to stop for a long minute as they gaze at each other. Yet Mei’s half-opened mouth doesn't move, even a little.

- You didn’t say “no”! - The demon calls out, smiling wider than ever before.

- I also didn’t say “yes”! - She protests, spreading her arms.

- But you consider this all!

She takes a deep breath and stays with her mouth opened widely.

- You do - His voice is filled with wild satisfaction. - You are bored. You do not feel your place between them. You consider leaving them.

Mei titles her head back, hiding her face in her hands.

- Yes! - She explodes with anger. - Yes, I do consider it! But don’t you also feel out of place here? Is this really your fight?

Red Son’s face sets sharply as if she hits him with a pan.

- They fight for things that you’re really mine! - Mei throws words out of herself in visible pain. - Mk protects the city on his own, he really doesn’t ask me for help, and usually, if he does, my help is mostly tidying up the mess he did or the mess some demon did to get revenge. If I’m his best friend, why doesn't he include me in anything? If I’m his sidekick, why does he always fight alone, even if he says he needs us? Yes, he did abandon me! Yes, this isn’t really my fight or my problems. But aren’t you in the same situation? Aren’t you tired of being used for someone’s goals? Aren’t you tired of doing everything your parents want you to?

- I’m… They don’t force me to do anything - His voice shakes slightly.

- But is this you? Is this what you are, what you want, are you spreading your wings in this way? By making their dreams come true? By getting their revenge?

His face is all frowned as he stands tense and stressed, touched and confused, almost stepping back from her. Mei studies his eyes with an empty mind, with an empty heart, with a hurt soul, cursing him discreetly for making her say those things and face the truth. The truth of being alone and not really herself.

- Don’t you just want to spend some quality time with your dad? - Mei asks helplessly.

The demon shrinks and gasps quietly as if she nabbed him, as if she tore the deeply hidden secret out of him and showed it to the world. He huffs and frowns in protests, but words just let him down. His arms get lost somewhere in the air.

- Well, okay, maybe you’re right - He moans pitifully, playing confident by crossing his arms on his chest. - Suppose you are right, and what? I’ll come back home and try to spend some time with my father, and what about you? What will you do, huh?

Her arms hang loosely with helplessness. She gazes at him with genuine sadness, not trying to hide it anymore.

- What can I do? - Her whisper is so pitiful the echo doesn't want to touch it.

Red Son blinks at her with surprise.

- I don’t want to leave Mk - She goes on, looking down. She hides her hands in her pockets. - He’s still my friend. And so the others. I’m not that close with them and they are not that fun, but… I guess I’m not alone?

- You are - Red Son huffs. - Your best friend left you. And you decide not to do anything with that just to be loyal to your only friend? It’s only you who keeps you alone.

- Ouch - She gives him a really tired sight.

- It’s true! Why don’t you try to change it? Meet someone new?

Mei takes a deep breath and hesitates for a long breathless moment. Does she want to talk with the demon about her complexes? No. Is she gonna turn the question on its head? Yes.

- Well, why don’t you? Aren’t you also alone? - She looks at him challengingly. - Poor lonely demon talking only to your parents. Have you tried to make a friend? Hm?

His reaction is not what Mei expected. His eyes open widely as he looks away with an odd shy grimace. The moment he bits his lip something finally clicks in her mind. She gasps, maybe a bit too loud, and then collapses into giggles.

- What’s so funny - The demon grunts, frowning at her with annoyance. His cheeks tint with a subtle red shade.

Mei laughs. Mei laughs, Mei simply laughs, Mei genuinely smiles, she’s genuinely amused, she beams with new energy, feeling lighter, feeling more comfortable, feeling in the right place. She makes one step towards him, raising her chin proudly.

- Listen to me, demon - Mei stands upright and smirks mischievously, imitating his confident pose and tone. - I have an offer for you. Forget about sides. Forget about fighting - She shows him her hand the way he offered her his hand before. - Forget about being sidekicks. Let’s take our own stage. And I know the right place! What is your opinion on video games?

His eyes open even wider. His sight wanders on turns to her hand and her bright smirk. There is something genuinely pure in his face. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t make any sound or any grimace, but he looks brighter. A fresh hint of joy flashes in his eyes.

- They are fine - He looks away, frowning with pride like a prince. His hand shyly shakes her hand. - I’ve never tried them though…

- You haven’t?? - Mei gasps, surprising him by getting close to his face. - Now we HAVE TO run to the arcade!

- Run? - Red Son squeaks as she pulls him to sprint in an unknown direction.

[honeyhenry]

Tiny Vol. 2: Kal + Will

you can read the first instalment of Tiny here!

A/N: I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! All the love for our sweet bear and Henry of course! And baby Will my new fave 😍

Warnings: Premature labour, a LOT of fluff 

as a family of three, you, Henry and Kal were the dream team

Kal had of course taken to you the moment you’d met him

a lot of the time Henry claimed you were more loving towards the big bear than him; “I’m your actual boyfriend, remember?”

Kal naturally being part of your inevitable wedding

hell, he was likely part of the proposal, as role of The Distractor, while Henry would wait on bended knee behind you

Kal knew that he didn’t have a place on the big kingsize bed, but that never stopped him from standing by the closed door of the bedroom whenever you and Henry were occupying it, waiting for either an invitation for cuddles, or for your day to start so he could have some company

and any available snacks, of course

On Henry’s birthday, just over a year into your marriage, you’d bribed the Akita with an extra large prime rib steak in the kitchen so that he could stay content downstairs, while you kept Henry more than content upstairs

It was only 3 weeks later that Kal started to press his large head onto your stomach

at first it was endearing, but over time he became persistent and Henry often had to get him to heel so that he would keep out of your way

it was only one missed period later that you realised your fluffy companion might have been onto something

with a fairly tame schedule for now, you and Henry had stopped “not trying” for a baby, deciding instead to just let it happen when it happened

and somehow Kal had been the first to find out that it had indeed, happened

over the next few weeks and months, it wasn’t just your large, concerned husband that was protective over you, but your bear of a dog too

by the time you were showing, Kal was in full guard dog form, growling at anyone who expressed any form of interest towards your growing belly

even Henry was on the receiving end of a warning growl now and then

but most of the time, Kal knew that Henry was likely safe, based on the look of love he often saw on his owner’s face towards you, and the special little moments his two humans have together with whatever is blooming within you

any strangers that get close to you would face the wrath of Kal because if whatever is happening gets this much love and attention, then it must be special to his Henry and his Mama

Kal hangs around you a lot, favouring you over Henry, especially in your last trimester

which makes Henry pout because damn it, Kal is taking his place most of the time

“Only because i’m carrying a little you.” you’d reassure your husband “he’ll be back to his Henry-loving ways after baby’s born.”

Kal often lays his big head on your bump when Henry isn’t there because he knows you’ll let him get away with it

but if Henry spots him he receives a “Kal, off!” just for your goofy husband to rest his own head there instead, chattering to the baby about things that sometimes have you falling asleep

his voice is soothing, yes

but his video game talk is just the perfect soundtrack for a nap

you get slower and slower as you enter the last few months

soon its just Kal and Henry going for walks together at the park

your bear always whined to you, pawing at your lap as you curl up on the sofa, while Henry would attempt to nod him over to the door

“Mumma can’t come today, she’s staying here with the baby. But she’ll call us if anything happens”

You get a soft kiss on the lips from one member of your family, and a lick on the hand from the fluffier one

Did you know it was Kal who saved the day, the morning you went into early labour?

you’d winced at a small twinge of pain, and then groaned out loud, taken by surprise as you had just been peeling some apples to be made into a stew

the sun was rising slowly, glinting the dewy grass out in the garden, your favourite view from the kitchen window

Henry was in his study, a floor up, with headphones on, completely oblivious to what was happening downstairs 

clinging to a table, you’d started to feel tight pain across your belly, issuing you with a mild dose of panic

of course, as Kal has been by your side for the past few months, he’s right there in an instant

he rushes over to you, sensing that something is wrong, watching you as you attempt to sit down on the floor to try and take control of the pain

he had pressed his big head to yours, nudging you as if to ask what he should do

“Get henry, go get Henry, Kal”

you didn’t have to tell him twice

he’d bolted to the study seeking out henry, knocking over everything he flies past, running as fast as he possibly can within the confines of the walls in the house

he was loudly barking the whole time, knowing that right now you are in jeopardy and that his Henry is your only saving grace 

he’d burst into Henry’s study nearly knocking the door off its hinges, almost jumping onto Henry’s lap

immediately Henry knew that something was wrong

normally a gentle giant around the house, Kal is bumping into things trying to reach his master, to get you the help you needed from Henry

“Kal, Kal show me where, what’s wrong. Is it Y/N? The baby? Mumma?”

He received a large bark in return, before Kal was rushing back to the kitchen to show his Henry where you were

Henry had raced behind Kal to where you were, panicking as he heard you call for him weakly

he eventually found you, sitting on the kitchen floor and clutching your belly in pain

Kal had stood by the door, watching Henry take over, his muscular form lifting you up and holding you close to get you to safety over on a soft chair

“it’s too early love, it’s got to be false contractions”

“they don’t feel false”

Kal had watched as Henry made a couple of calls, with sweat collecting at his brow

He had then spent a few moments with you, counting and calculating timings on his watch while you’d cried “it can’t be time, he’s not ready Henry”

Kal watched his Henry take your hands and stay close to you, trying to keep calm on the surface while making you a myriad of promises

just 10 minutes later, Kal had been left in the house alone 

his only hope was that you and his Henry will be okay when you return

he’d had a strange few days at a friend’s house

their garden was smaller and they had a cat, but Kal hadn't minded them too much

he had still been concerned about where his Henry and his Y/N went so suddenly

and why did you not want to take him with you?

On the Tuesday, Kal hears the words “You’re going back home today, to see your parents! And they have your baby brother waiting there too!”

Kal was delivered back home that afternoon, and comes bounding into the house, making a beeline for Henry who was waiting by the front door to greet his furry friend

You had stayed upstairs in the master bedroom with Will, making sure he was safe from the inevitable commotion downstairs

You’d heard Henry embrace Kal, talking to him like an old friend whom he hadn't seen in years

Kal was so riled up from being away for so long, and Henry still in a lovestruck daze from the last 72 hours

“I know we were gone so suddenly, but everything is okay. We’re back now, and we have someone special we want you to meet” you can hear your husband speak excitedly to the bear

Kal had whined in retaliation, as if to ask "why did you leave me, Henry? What could have possibly been so important?”

“Kal” and it’s Henry’s no nonsense voice that you’d recognised this time; “Your baby brother is upstairs with Mum but he is very little. Very, very small. And you’re a big bear. So we’re going to be calm. Okay? Calm and gentle bear, good boy.”

Henry's footsteps and the tinkling of Kal’s collar were becoming clearer and clearer before the door to the master bedroom creaks open 

and there stands Kal in all his fluffy glory

Henry is right by him, watching over every move Kal makes, with baited breath in case he decides to make a running leap towards you and your tiny bundle of joy

Henry had looked up to you with a gentle grin, ensuring the door was left open in the event of any sporadic movements, particularly if Kal wasn’t interested in this new person after all

“Knock knock, Kal’s promised to be good if he wants to see his brother”

Kal wants to jump up onto the bed but he knows he can’t, no matter how curious he is

so he just waits patiently by the bed, because whatever you were holding  seems important, especially given that Henry is being very stern with him

maybe this is the special thing that his Henry and Y/N had loved so much

he looks up at you as you lean down enough for him to see the baby’s little face 

“Kal, this is your baby brother. This is who all the fuss has been about. he’ll be able to play with you some day, when he’s a bit bigger.”

Kal blinks, taking the situation in

A new smell, a new person

A new, tiny Henry

At this realisation, he fondly rested his head in your lap right next to Will, receiving praise from Henry “easy boy, good boy Kal”

Kal makes an oath there and then to protect his tiny Henry

He sniffed a blanketed foot carefully, nuzzling it before staring at your sweet baby’s face

You look up at Henry briefly, and he’s already watching you as the rest of the scene plays out

“I think our boys are going to get along just fine” you murmur, basking in the fond greeting between Kal and baby Cavill

only for it to end a moment later when your son squeaks the quietest noise, causing Kal to back up quickly, shocked by the sound

“Ohh, are you saying hello to Kal honey? He is so gentle and fluffy isn’t he?” you’d cooed to the fidgeting bundle in your arms

“i think it’s Kal who needs to watch out around here now” Henry comments with a grin

Whenever Henry goes out to play fetch with Kal in the huge garden - it may as well be a football field - you’d watch carefully from the balcony window while cradling Will, pointing out his how his Daddy throws a ball or a stick, and how clever Kal is for fetching and returning it

whenever your older boys are done, they both scramble to be first back to see you and the youngest of the Cavill pack

Will is often found snoozing, giving Kal the perfect excuse to curl up right alongside his crib him to protect him, should anything threaten his soft sleepy snores

And if Will is sleeping in the crib in the master bedroom right beside you and Henry, Kal paws at the door until he is let in, taking his rightful spot curled up beside his new best friend

If you or Henry, or a loving relative or friend is holding him, there is Kal right by their side, as if to stake his claim; “this is my baby”

In the middle of the night when Will starts crying, Kal is there first to check on his tiny Henry before he runs for immediate assistance

cue Henry having tripped over Kal in the middle of the night several times now, as Kal had rushed to the master bedroom and Henry having rushed out of it in the dark

Usually the consequences involve Henry taking a bump to his shin or his head, with you having to get up, turn the light on and fetch a crying baby Will

So yes, Kal is in the nursery a lot of the time and yes, you need to install a couple of night lights in the hallways so that Henry doesn’t ultimately fall down the stairs or continue to injure himself via a fluffy Kal on a rescue mission

Henry always exclaims the next morning “I can’t believe he’s always in the room”

Which makes you laugh, replying “You’re just jealous he loves Will more than you now. I have to say Will is taking the badge for favourite Cavill of the month in this household”

Will sleeps a lot, and when Kal eventually gets bored, he sticks his big head into the crib, panting and waiting for his tiny Henry to pay him some attention

when you catch him, you rub his big head, letting him sit on the bed while you cradle a snoozing Will

however if Henry catches Kal with his head in the crib? Kal is out of the nursery for the rest of the day

“He can’t stick his head in like that, I’m not having him hurting Junior, accident or not”

So you need to unite your parenting tactics to train your dog before you use them to parent Will

When he’s not in his crib, Will is in one of the new moving cribs that Henry had researched to death before ordering and consequently building himself

That was an especially hot day in your pregnancy, and it was in December

Kal often just lays and watches his little best friend in it for as long as he likes, as he soon realises his large Henry will allow him to do that

sometimes you see Will laying in the crib with lots of dog toys around him

courtesy of Kal, of course

typically, Henry will be around to supervise, always thanking Kal on Junior’s behalf, engaging his two dependents in conversation; “oh look another toy, Will. Thank you Kal”

Kal would already be out of the room to fetch another toy while tiny Will is taking a hardcore nap

feeding and putting weight on is hard work!!

Henry definitely gets a few stares at the park now; a big beefy man, pushing a high-tech stroller, alongside an absolute unit of a dog

Kal is obedient as always, walking nicely beside the stroller with his two Henrys

he’s not even tempted by puddles or ducks or squirrels

his focus is on his best friends, especially the one wearing their brand new sweater to signify his move to newborn sized clothing at the age of 9 weeks

he loves watching his Henry and his Mama celebrate his tiny best friend, no matter how small their achievements - or sweaters - are

Kal is always gonna look out for his large Henry and his new tiny Henry, who both have the same dark curls and sparkly eyes

He is just the most wonderful big brother you could ever have wished for your little boy, and you’re sure they will get into heaps of laughs and trouble when Will grows up to become a rambunctious toddler, with peels of giggles coming from wherever the two will be playing together

Kal has the patience of a saint, and it’s why you don’t worry at all when you find out a couple years later, that there will be two more little Henry’s for him to play with and guard, with his whole fluffy being

---

let me know what you think / any questions / any requests HERE

[cherry-lipbalm]

double trouble. spencer reid.

4.8k words.

masterlist

where y/n pulls the short straw and has to double up with spencer.

There is a chart within the BAU: a solid, concise graph that portrays, arguably the most, vital information within the FBI. Intricately designed, Garcia and Y/N had managed to construct a comprehensible guide to who in the team was the most pleasant to share a room with. At first it was a joke, originated from a slow day of nothing but paperwork Y/N had spent in Garcia's lair. Conversations arose, and soon after so did the chart.

It's built up on categories such as conversation, tidiness, sleeping conditions and even hygiene. There are ten available points per category, and Emily loses said ten points for sleeping conditions because her snores can be heard from China. The points are the basis of the game, essential in order to rank the team individually and compile them into a list of favourability. Spencer is at the bottom of that list.

"I don't get it, I'm a delight," Spencer argued, strolling alongside Morgan up the small flight of stairs to the BAU room. Another case had forced them to prepare for the jet in 30 minutes, but Hotch and the rest of the team had very different perspectives on preparation. Especially after what he said when they entered the room.

"Okay, before we start you should know I called ahead to book a hotel and they had limited rooms. We all have one but you're going to have to double up."

Y/N had never seen an American Western movie before, but she imagined that the cliché standoff looked a lot like what happened in the BAU room subsequent to that announcement. Those that had been sitting launched to their feet, uncaring to the chairs rolling free behind them. If someone was holding something it dropped onto the table, or even the floor. Communication faltered, and all anyone dared to do was stare at each other.

When Hotch looked up from his file, he had to do a double take because of the drastic change in atmosphere. His team were all standing metres apart; Y/N had a hand over her gun.

"I think we all know what this calls for," she said.

"Get it," Morgan gestured to the back of the room. Y/N's movement caused a surge of motion as everyone sat at the table attentively. Hotch tried to turn the attention back to the screen with the crime scene photos, but even JJ was more focused on the whiteboard rolling into the room.

Y/N stood by it's side, and on her way forced Hotch into a seat. She grabbed the top corner and flipped it over to reveal the coloured array of pie charts, bullet-points and bar charts.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Spencer whined from the back of the room.

"I don't see why you've obviously spent more time and effort on this than any of your cases," Hotch added.

"Okay, you two are just jealous because you're at the bottom of the list," Y/N snarked, then addressed the team. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to judge your fellow coworkers and deem who is the least likeable. Spoiler alert: it's Spencer."

At this, the aforementioned agent threw his pen directly at Y/N's head. She shrieked, then turned to him with a glare as she tried to untangle it from her hair. He laughed wholeheartedly, and the team snickered not only at Spencer's attack but the way they were so obviously and obliviously in love with each other.

"This chart makes no sense! I mean, how do I only have five points for hygiene? We all know I'm the cleanest out of everyone here."

"I agree with you Spencer," Y/N said, "your hygiene is at a ten point standard but unfortunately people don’t want to compete with said ten point standard, so that loses you five points, gorgeous.”

Spencer didn't reply (only sulked into his seat), half because he's shocked by the injustice of the chart and the other half because he's shocked Y/N just called him gorgeous.

"Alright! The hat, please," She exclaimed, enticing Spencer from his trance. Garcia presented the fedora over the table, and Y/N began talking immediately when she saw Hotch's mouth open in objection because were they really using the fedora from the unsub they caught last week?

Only four people took turns in picking names out of the hat; ever since in incident in '04 where lack of coordination made for everyone picking a name of someone who had already picked someone else. It resulted in a few brawls when Morgan wouldn't budge from his choice of Garcia even though his name had been pulled by Reid.

It never took them long to pick names out of desperation, considering the name-picking determined how the next 24 + hours were going to go. So when Y/N picked out Spencer's name, no one blamed her when she practically collapsed to the floor.

"That's karma," Spencer said upon her unraveling.

"I thought you didn't believe in karma," she sneered, stomping back onto her feet.

"In situations like these it seems to be the only viable explanation."

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him on her way out of the room, muttering under her breath that she'll be briefed when she's aboard, because she needed a moment alone for a pep-talk on how murdering your colleague apparently isn't socially acceptable.

On her way out, faintly in the background, Morgan caught sight of Emily and JJ fist-bumping victoriously, and realised that Y/N's demise more than certainly involved some foul play. Oh well, he thought, it'll make for good entertainment.

———

"Science shows us that we feel more personally connected with people who have similar postures, vocal rhythms, facial expressions and even eye blinking. If you consciously sync these factors your brain activity could follow, resulting in what many people call 'clicking' wi-"

"I cannot believe you asked me why you lost seven points for conversation and then followed with that."

"What? What's wrong with science?"

"Oh, Spence, you're so gorgeous but so oblivious," Y/N sighed, exhausted from a mixture of jet lag and Spencer's enthusiastic take on the science of conversation. They had only just stepped foot in the room, and she was already drained from the mere thought of having to bunk with him for the next however many hours.

Y/N is quick to throw her things down as soon as they enter the room. She dumps her suitcase by the door and launches a few more things on the cabinets around her, then tries to ignore Spencer's sounds of distaste as she does this. She's frankly too tired to care, and jumps onto the bed without thinking; she's so enervated she doesn't even realise there's only the one bed.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Spencer suddenly asks despite the silence that passed and the obvious fact that Y/N is trying to get some shut eye.

All he receives is an incomprehensible mumble from under the pillows, but he takes it as a response anyway.

"Why do you keep, uh, keep calling me 'gorgeous' I mean, I'm not, uh..." he stammers, fidgeting with the room key in his hands while he stands in front of the wardrobe to make it seem like he's doing something and doesn't care as much as he does.

"I'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

He senses the fatigue in her voice, so just leaves it with a shrug of his shoulders and a content smile, then goes to organising his array of sweater vests onto the hangers. When he's done with this, he turns around to make himself a coffee; taking a different approach to the jet lag than Y/N.

At the thought of her, he looks up to see her sprawled out across the bed. She's clutching onto a pillow and seems so relaxed that Spencer has to look away for a moment because he's more than certain he shouldn't be seeing a coworker like this. Nevertheless, he smiles upon her peaceful ambience, and hopes the boiling kettle doesn't disturb her too much.

When it's done brewing, Spencer sips the coffee cautiously and strides over to a small chair in the corner of the room. Here, Y/N's slumped figure is directly in his view, so he can't help but see her so casually on the bed. Wait, the bed... oh shit.

He knows that the chances of him getting the bed are slim. For one, Y/N's pretty much already claimed that territory, and, even if she hadn't, Spencer knew she'd put up one hell of a fight for it. He only hoped there were some extra blankets and pillows that could aid in making the floor at least somewhat comfortable.

"So, uh, Rock Paper Scissors for the bed?" He asks, then slurps his coffee. His voice rouses Y/N for a moment, and he's sure she's dozed back off again until his words sink in and she turns around to him with bleary eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"One bed. Two people," he says nervously and gestures to the space between them.

And it takes Y/N a moment. She looks from Spencer to the bed, then stares at the pillows for a long while, then she looks at Spencer again, then the bed. Then, she lets out a blood-curdling cry so loud that Reid has to cover his ears.

"Why!" She screams, slamming her hands down on the mattress. Spencer can't help but laugh, snickering behind his hand which only infuriates Y/N more.

"Okay, okay!" He moves to calm her down when he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, "rock paper scissors, come on."

"Oh, I don't want to do that, Spence," she whines.

"Why? 'Cause you know you'll lose?" With his patronisation he raises an eyebrow at her when he approaches the end of the bed, his fist already raised. His condescension makes Y/N irrefutably stubborn, and she knows he's doing it on purpose -because he always does- but she doesn't care when it means she has a chance to beat Spencer at something.

"Fine," she grumbles. She sweeps the hair from her face and sits up straight, shuffling to the end of the bed and letting her legs dangle down; they brush against Spencer's own and he clears his throat amid the contact.

The slap of her fist against her palm indicates the beginning of the game. Y/N knows that she's unlikely to win, because Spencer is bound to have calculated some sure-fire plan to succeed in every round of Rock Paper Scissors.

This is why, when Spencer pulls paper and she pulls scissors, she screams in delight.

"No," Spencer says bluntly, then demands, "best out of three."

"Oh no," she chuckles, "it's never been that way before, it isn't now, gorgeous."

Spencer throws his head back in a groan, kneeling on the floor in defeat. He stays there because he figures he ought to become acquainted with it.

———

When nighttime rolls around, Y/N is pretty excited. She's already texted the BAU group chat a record seventeen times about the matter, yet somehow the team hasn't gotten sick of it thus far, and may even be more exhilarated than she is. It's the one good thing to come out of sharing a room with Spencer: that she gets to watch him wiggle in discomfort on his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

Except, when it comes down to it, it isn't that fun at all.

He's wriggling, yes, but it's doesn't exactly fulfil her with any satisfaction; if anything, it's just sad. He struggles to reach any form, never mind pinnacle, of relaxation, and Y/N actually feels pretty guilty at the subordination. So when the clock hits midnight and she's still hearing Spencer grunting when he hits a certain incessant bump in the carpet, she gives in and sits up.

Upon the sudden sound of bedsheets rustling, Spencer freezes because he thinks he's going to get shouted at, but it's the opposite that scares him even more.

"Do you want to get in bed?" Her voice sounds, the hush penetrating through the air.

Immediately Spencer rises; he wants nothing more than to take her up on her offer, but he is, unfortunately, chivalrous.

"No, no, it's okay," he whispers back, already delving back under his covers.

"Spencer. Just take the bed, I can't sleep with you tossing and turning," she says, hoping the complaint will cover up her caring behaviour.

"Be careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you care."

"Shut up, do you want the bed or not?"

"I do but, unlike you, I'm actually a good person and wouldn't want to see you lying on the floor-"

"Uh, I'm offering you the bed, aren't I? That's gotta earn me some brownie points," she remarked, now having turned on a lamp. "Besides, if you're that bothered about it, we'll just share."

This makes Spencer stop: his torso is turned abnormally in his angle to see Y/N behind him, the blankets feebly draping across him show the Doctor Who shirt he's wearing, and his hair is a tousled mess that Y/N just knows will take him hours to fix in the morning. Well, that was tomorrow's problem, she contemplated, right now the issue lied in who, if either of them, was going to sleep on the floor.

"Uh, share? You.. uh, you really wanna do that?"

"As long as you don't snore, or kick; whats the harm?"

Spencer avoids dumping information about the harm of them sleeping together: how this kind of physical contact releases oxytocin, a chemical compound in the brain that exhibits feelings of empathy, trust, relaxation and even reduces anxiety. He saves her this because it's just past midnight and he doubts she wants to hear about the scientific risk of them growing to like each other.

"Oh, okay," he agrees instead. He clambers up from his pile of blankets and clutches a pillow to his chest while he stumbles over. Y/N shuffles to one side and pulls the duvet back, and he's more than happy to get under warm, comfy sheets.

"Let me just make something clear," Y/N says while Spencer adjusts into the pillows. He doesn't do this for long because one is snatched from under his head. When he moves to object, he sees it being planted next to his arm, creating a definite border between them.

"Your side, my side," Y/N says sternly, "that clear?"

"Crystal."

———

It's around three am when Y/N stirs awake. At first she can't grasp what's roused her, but then she hears a noise, and assumes there's got to be some construction going on outside because what she hears is alike to the humming of machinery. When she gains a reasonable amount of consciousness, she realises the sound is a bit too close to home.

Her hand reaches out across the bed, and when she accidentally whacks Spencer on the chest, she worries she's awoken him, until the noise starts again and it's here she discovers it's coming from him.

Oh shit, she thinks, please don't tell me my co-worker is having a sex dream while I'm lying right next to him.

He isn't, but Y/N isn't sure the reality is any better.

The moaning sound he first emitted has progressed into some sort of panicked grunt, accompanied by occasional whines. Soon, his body is flinching away from an invisible force.

Y/N knows it's probably best to leave it, that if she wakes him up he might be too confused and scared, he'll be disoriented, but when he starts screaming, she doesn't have anything else to resort to.

"Spence, Spencer! Wake up, hey," she shakes him, and he's awake in seconds. Sitting up straight, Y/N sees him hitting things that aren't there; it's only when she turns the light on that he eventually calms down.

"I'm sorry," he croaks immediately. Then his head is in his hands as he leans on his knees, and Y/N is overcome with a feeling completely foreign to her in regard to Spencer: empathy.

"Don't be, it-... it's okay," her voice takes a calm turn, and she even puts a hand on his back because anything that happens after three am is as good as forgotten anyway.

"You were right, I'm sorry," Spencer mutters. "This'll lose me ten points for sleeping conditions, huh?"

His attempt at cracking a joke does make Y/N smile, but even he can tell it's one of pity.

"Don't be silly. Do you want to, uh, talk about it?"

"I just wanna sleep," he sighs, and falls back into the pillows. Y/N creases her brows in sympathy, then lies down next to him; she stares at the ceiling for a while, and the steadying of Spencer's breathing makes her think he fell asleep a while ago, so she leans to turn off the lamp before his voice breaks the silence.

"Can you keep the light on?"

His sudden ask makes Y/N jump, but she steadies under the softness of Spencer's voice. When she turns to him his eyes are barely open, but he can see the benevolent smile she's giving him; something he rarely sees from Y/N.

"Of course," she says, then lies back down into the indent she's made in the bed.

"Thanks," he replies, and Y/N notices this is the least she's ever heard Spencer talk.

"You know," she starts, "it's not silly to be afraid of the dark; it's basic human instinct. I mean, it's evolution: humans have a... a tendency to be afraid of the dark, our visual sense vanishes and we can't detect anything around us. It's primal instinct, or... something, I guess."

At the end of her ramble, she's afraid she's sent Spencer to sleep, because he's gone uncharacteristically placid, but -yet again- he surprises her.

"Now who's losing points for conversation?"

Y/N's laugh after this is so hearty and genuine that Spencer can't help but smile, grin even. His chest rumbles with a chuckle, and Y/N feels the mattress shake under their collaboration of laughter, when it dies down they're both still beaming.

"Maybe I've been hanging around you too much," she declares. It's a jab, but her cheek rests against the pillow when she turns her head to him because her smile is so wide, and Spencer reciprocates; the act is unfamiliar to the pair, but warming nonetheless.

When it goes silent, Y/N doesn't expect to sleep at all. The Pavlov affect of the light being on tricks her brain into thinking she should be wide awake (something she learnt from Spencer), so she lies there patiently; hands intertwined resting on her chest. She twiddles her thumbs, almost as if she's waiting for something to happen.

"I'm sorry you have nightmares," she mutters.

Spencer's eyes flutter open, and she goes to make another apology, this time for waking him, but he clears his throat so she lets him take the lead.

"S'Not your fault, I just, I don't know. I get these dreams, these weird dreams - ever since I was a kid. I guess they just... developed into nightmares since I joined the BAU," he mumbles. "We see some pretty bad stuff."

Y/N hums, "we do, don't we?"

Her speech doesn't warrant a response, so Spencer just smiles again and they both silently call it a night. Reid is asleep in seconds, which Y/N finds admirable, while she stays still for a while. The way the orange light is bouncing off Spencer's physique makes him look like he's centre stage of an oil painting. The detail she's gaining of his pores and his eyelashes from being so close to him is both daunting and beautiful at the same time. His resting body reminds her of the pieces on display in an art exhibit Spencer dragged her along to one day last autumn. She wonders if he took anyone else to that exhibit, and hopes he didn't.

She soundlessly admires the rise of his chest: the melody of his breathing amid the chagrin of an occasional nose whistle. His hair, once a foreseeable inconvenience, is now an abundance of, what Y/N can only describe as, natural radiance; it's all curls and frizz and length that she's begged him to never lay a hand on. She can't help but run a hand through it. When she does, it's a lot softer than she expected and makes her think, wow I've really got to find out what conditioner he is using while she's untangling any knots she comes across. It only results in more frizz but he'll gel it back with product in the morning (much to Y/N's disappointment).

The noise he exudes when Y/N scratches his scalp makes her heart melt immediately. It is the sound of innocence wrapped up in a ball of revere, the way it comes from his chest and catches in the back of his throat in a small, naive whine. Then he subconsciously curls into her hold and is practically purring when she continues to scrape her fingernails gently across his head.

The ambivalence of it all is what makes Y/N stop. Spencer Reid isn't the kind of guy she ever anticipated to have a crush on. He didn't fit into the pattern of her list of exes, not even one feature of him came close to anything of her usual type. Where she'd normally be taken to movies and dinners, Spencer ventured with her to museums, public symposiums, art exhibits. Y/N can't resist fondly reminiscing on a library trip they took last week that resulted in them checking out each of their favourite books for one another. And while, on paper, this was romantic and harmonious, they were strictly platonic. Barely that; they took the piss out of each other at every opportunity, not even always as a joke. Y/N had collapsed in sorrow when she pulled his name out of the hat.

But the smile on Spencer's face... his serene expression and soft hair makes Y/N's knees weak for a totally different reason. And she figures this feeling trumps whatever feigned resentment she has been portraying over the years.

Fine, she thought, stubborn as always when it came to Spencer, I'll tell him when he wakes up. She began to bask in the peace that came before whatever storm could potentially riot tomorrow when she told Spencer how she felt. She guessed she had at least a few hours to relish in their friendship and the love they had built.

She guessed wrong.

Spencer's eyes were fluttering open before Y/N had even began conjuring up what she was going to say. Unfortunately, when she made a plan she stuck to it; she was beginning to see why her stubbornness could be such an unattractive quality.

Spencer squinted harshly with the light, and the first thing he managed to see clearly was the discreet panic in Y/N's eyes. He took a quick survey of the room to eliminate what visible factors that could reason her alarm; when he ruled out any unsub with a gun to her head, he relaxed.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked to the window, and it didn't seem to be daylight yet.

"Haven't you been to sleep?" He asked, more than prepared to educate her in the necessities of getting a good night's rest.

"Not yet. You've only been out a few minutes," she said softly, retracting her hand from his locks. Here, Spencer realised he didn't like the feeling of Y/N's absence.

"Oh," he hummed, "I was dreaming. I think Darth Vader was there..."

Y/N chuckled lightheartedly, "of course he was."

Spencer seemed willing to remain awake, but time was limited and Y/N wasn't sure when he'd be dozing off again. So, she made her move.

"Listen, I wasn't going to say anything until morning but, you're awake so I may as well tell you now..."

He's visibly intrigued; with a quirked eyebrow and digging the knuckle-joint of his finger in a rubbing motion in the corner of his eye to try and gain some sense of vivacity. Still, all he can respond with is a drone.

"And I don't want this to, I don't know, freak you out? Or to make anything awkward, so if it does, we can just... pretend this never happened, okay? I mean it."

This manages to obtain Y/N the attention she needs, because, without delay, Spencer has both eyes open and his eyebrows are knitted together in mostly concern. Now, with his eager expression, Y/N wishes he had stayed nonchalant.

"What's wrong?"

"I just... I guess. I mean, I like you? I think? I know, really. I just - you're not like any other guy, and I like that, that's a good thing! I mean, what other guy knows how to build a rocket and make a coin appear behind your ear?"

Spencer chuckles, and his eyes are wide and bright like he's been suddenly granted passage to a whole new world. Mouth agape with wonder, he's like a child being told he can finally play on the big-kid swings: buzzing with excitement and anticipation, just like said rockets he launches and gets in trouble with Hotch for.

"You mean like this?" He asks and leans forward to brandish a dime from behind Y/N's earlobe.

"Okay, like, who does that!" She screeches way too loudly for three am. When she clasps a hand over her mouth Spencer chortles and slowly removes her grasp. He's timid, so initially only presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles, then feels the ambience in the room shift; suddenly everything has devolved from blushing antics and stumbles of words to serenity in a matter of seconds.  

Spencer's pecks adhere to Y/N's hands, lingering on the skin of her knuckles and occasionally peppering to her palms. It isn't until a few kisses later that he brings himself to move closer, and even here his courage only brings him to her cheek.

When the corner of his lips press lustfully upon her face, Y/N doesn't hesitate in turning her head ever so slightly. His lips part, and he breaks away to glance at her and make sure this isn't all one big misunderstanding. But her gaze is matched to his mouth, and soon her lips. In a fumble to close the (already compact) space between them, the kiss they share is warm and breathy, it's passionate and lewd, especially with the arrangement in which Spencer places his hands: cupping one side of her face and the placing the other at her neck so he can rest his fingertips in the hold atop Y/N's spine.

Wherever his fingers touch leaves a trail of goosebumps which Y/N hopes never diminish; she wants every piece of evidence she can muster of Spencer's caresses, however this changes when Spencer's lips begin on the formidable task of her neck.

"Stop," she pants, and the hands that had inevitably reached his hair again are now pushing slightly on his shoulders. Her request makes Spencer drop his hands immediately.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't. It was nice. I just, I don't want everyone to see," she gestured to the red patch that had already formed above her clavicle where Spencer had only been nibbling a moment prior.

"Right, yeah," he breathed. A giddy smile forced its way onto his face when he looked at the way Y/N's lips had reddened and become swollen, especially her bottom (now essentially permanent) pout originated from the persistence of Spencer's tendency to drag his teeth along her lip and enclose it in a bite.

"You know, I predicted this would happen. Scientifically, people are a lot more likely to be attracted to one another after sleeping together. Subconsciously, we feel more capable in our ability to trust that person because we've been so vulnerable and open in a compromising position. The oxytocin we get from sharing physical contact like that is the same we produce in an orgasm."

"Oh," Y/N squeaked, while Spencer lay there with a proud smile on his face, not really registering the effect he'd had on her by using the word 'orgasm'.

"Oxytocin is heavily released during kissing too, so... I guess we're pretty bonded."

Y/N chuckled, smiling at his blushed cheeks. "I guess we are."

"It's, uh, it's actually also called the 'cuddle hormone' because it's primarily recognised as being released during hugging.”

"And that's your way of asking me if I want to cuddle?"

Spencer's smile was unmissable: shifting nervously between tight-lipped and beaming wide, his eyes were the only part of his countenance that stilled; locked on Y/N.

"Yes, I, uh, I believe it is."

She tried to suppress her grin, but it was no use.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" She asked.

"Oh, little spoon... obviously."

fin.

[wrathandgreed]

(I hope requests are still open) So ive been thinking. How about the brothers reaction to MC taking a large step away from them when ever one of them raises their hand up. It could be as simple as a high five. MC used to be in a abusive relationship and is paranoid about getting hit

Note: (For the record, I don’t know if you sent me this on purpose - I’ve never done requests; I’ve literally just put out my very first OM headcanons. But I figured I could try. I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, but a number of my friends have. I really hope I can do this one respect - if anything about this is not on the level, please let me know! Also, if I missed a trigger warning in the tags, or tagged this wrong, let me know. Also, for the record, I tend to like soft!Brothers and I really wanted them to try and be better - not put the onus on MC to “get over it” or anything.)

Second note: After writing this, I’m not sure that most of these guys would be a good choice for an abuse survivor! 

Third note: I am NOT good at keeping things short and, as usual, I went overboard with Asmodeus. Like, it should be its own fic at this point. But write what you want to read, right?

Warnings: references to domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. References to suicide baiting. Uncensored swearing.

~5K words

Lucifer

A strange choice; his perfectionism and exacting behavior sometimes make you remember how it was back in the human world; everything had to be JUST SO….or else.

And he’s threatened to kill you. Twice.

But there’s something inherently decent about him - and you live for the rare moments he laughs.

His perfectionism usually isn’t even about you, so you just kind of….ignore it.

You’re doing some of your RAD homework in Lucifer’s study.

It’s quiet there.

And, while he won’t do the work for you, he’ll definitely help when you’re stuck.

Also you can give him tea and soothing when he (inevitably)  gets upset at his paperwork - Mammon’s bills, Asmo’s bills, Satan’s bills (hey, dark magic books are expensive).

You start hearing the shifting and muttering that herald the beginning of the rant.

You gather the tea and walk towards his desk.

“Devil’s sake!” Lucifer suddenly snaps out, slamming hand on his desk as he reads yet another ridiculous piece of paper.

It’s not at you, the anger isn’t at you, you KNOW it’s not at you, but you freeze anyway.

Slammed hands on desks, punched holes in walls, hands on you, always hands - 

The cup of tea hits the floor and you’re out of the room before Lucifer can even look up.

He’s seen it all in your paperwork - the police reports, the restraining order, the lists of injuries - so he puts it all together before his study door closes behind you.

He knows better than to go after you immediately. You’ll want some solitude, some quiet on your own, to steady yourself a little.

If he goes after you now, it might frighten you more. Looks like hunting.

You need to know he’s calm, that he’s not acting or reacting out of emotion.

He takes his time cleaning up the spilled tea, straightening his papers.

When he shows up at your room, he has a mug of hot chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. You made a mess in his study, and he’s such a stickler for everything being neat. He was angry before, but he’ll be even more angry now.

“No, I’m sorry,” he returns, and offers you the chocolate.

(You blink once. Has the Avatar of Pride ever apologized before? If so, it was never in your hearing.)

The two of you talk quietly for a time. He insists that you don’t need to apologize - ever. He insists that, while he appreciates the tea-and-break routine, it’s 100% not your responsibility to control his anger. It’s his. He says that his anger isn’t good for him anyway (just look at Satan) and he needs to take a break when that hot feeling starts. 

Maybe he should start scheduling breaks; setting timers on his D.D.D. so that he no longer works long enough at once to let it all get to him.

He doesn’t want you afraid of him.

Mammon

Mammon is pretty much the only demon who HASN’T threatened your life. He often sounds irritated, but he’s never even sounded angry at you.

If anything, he’s a mush and an abuse victim himself. So he gets where you’re coming from, and tries really hard.

So you shouldn’t be afraid of him.

But….he moves too quickly. He’s constantly jumping from one idea to another, one topic to another, one emotion to another. And that’s just emotionally.

You can’t trust where his hands will be. Ever. And that’s not a sex thing.

Sometimes, his protection of you makes you feel safe. If anyone hurts you, Mammon will hurt them a thousand times worse.

He’s funny, and his hands on you are gentle, and once you tell him about your past, he tries really hard not to go back to his “stupid human” habit, because it hurts your feelings.

But sometimes, his protection feels like obsession. Why were you talking to that guy? C’mere, you’re MY human.

Then, inevitably, the tug on your hand or arm or waist, pulling you closer.

It starts simply enough.

You’re playing video games in his room. He’s not as much of a gamer as Levi, but he enjoys them.

Especially ones where you can be competitive or drive cars really fast.

He’s been getting more and more excited, coiled like a spring. And it’s from enjoyment, not anger, but that level of energy, in your experience, explodes at some point.

You get quieter, but that only makes him more boisterous. He wants you to join in the fun! C’mon MC, did you see that?! It was awesome!

After a really impressive win, he shouts in triumph and suddenly his hand is in front of your face for a high-five.

You recoil and hit the floor, crab-crawling backwards before you can stop yourself.

His look of complete confusion, in different circumstances, might be funny. He actually looks at his hand like he doesn’t recognize it.

He drops to the floor too, “Babe? What’s wrong? Y’okay?” And he reaches out a hand towards you.

When you flinch, he gets it.

He sits on the floor, stuttering out apologies, not even finishing one sentence before starting another. He makes sure he’s cross-legged, leaning back on his hands - non threatening, leaning away, hands not hidden, but not prominent, and in a position it would take him time to move from. 

When you start crying, he can’t maintain that pose and crawls towards you, pulling you into a hug.

If you resist, you know he’ll let you go. And that’s why you just curl into him instead, crying out on his shoulder while he holds you close - but not tightly.

“I jus’ need ya to talk to me….let me know if I’m gettin’ to be too much. I know I’m loud. Just….. jus’ remind me, I’ll never be mad.”

Leviathan

Boy already has anger problems.

Envy’s kind of prone to it, you know?

On the one hand, he literally attacked you over a piece of TSL memorabilia.

On the other, he’s generally harmless the rest of the time.

He’s meek and shy and terrified of touching you - so, 95% of the time, you feel super safe with him.

When you wake with a nightmare, when something jump-starts your fear response, he talks you through it, easily abandoning whatever game or anime he’s involved in.

He’ll only touch you when you ask, or when you reach for him first.

But then there’s the MMOs.

You know you should leave when he starts getting mad. Not in a victim-blame sense, but for your own mental health it’s probably not a good idea to be around him when he raids.

He ALWAYS gets mad.

You’re sitting in his room, so involved in your handheld that you forget it’s his raiding night.

(Usually you make study plans with Satan, or shopping plans with Asmo on his raiding nights. You don’t want him to give them up; he enjoys them, but it’s not good for you to be around.)

After finally completing a tough level, you pop your headphones off just in time to hear Levi swear loudly.

You go still as a string of swear-filled trash talk fills the room. Things you’d never expect shy, needy Levi to say. 

You know it really is just trash-talk - the threats of violence are just too absurd. Rip off their arms and use their own fingers to bowl their skull like a bowling ball? Really?

Also this is LEVI. Levi? The demon who needed you to taunt Mammon about his credit card because he couldn’t do it himself? He might be Admiral of Hell’s Navy and all, but he’s not exactly threatening.

You get to your feet, a little shaken but ready to just walk out of the room. It’s raid night, and this is why you don’t hang out on raid nights. You’re not comfortable around other people’s anger.

You’re halfway across the room when Levi suddenly shouts in frustration and throws his controller on the floor.

And you’re out the door.

Levi just glimpses you as he’s reaching to pick up his miraculously-unshattered controller from the floor.

“Henry?” He calls out, just a second too late.

With only one moment of hesitation, he logs out of his raid and goes to follow you.

You had less than ten seconds head start, but it takes him almost twenty minutes to find you, sitting out in the garden, gazing at nothing.

“MC?” He calls quietly. He doesn’t want to sneak up on you.

A single blink, and the tiniest flash of fear - he left his game to follow you. 

Calculation: extreme concern - or extreme anger. 

Conclusion: Undetermined.

So you wait.

“Are you ok?”

Okay, so not mad. “Aren’t you raiding?” You ask, instead of answering. You’re not ok, but you’re also not in the mood to talk about it.

“I, uh, h-had a, uh, power outage?” Even he doesn’t sound convinced, and you snort. Levi only has three modes: simple, stuttering, and verbose. Thankfully he goes with simple. “You ran out. I was worried.”

You debate brushing his concern off, but he deserves better than that.

“I’m not good with anger. Even if it’s not directed at me.”

“Oh.” Levi pauses as he considers. He knows the basics of what’s happened. “I - I mean, I could, you know, NOT - “

“No,” you say quickly and lean in to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to change anything. Do your raids, make stupid threats to stupid players. Just….warn me to leave first?”

Levi nods, but he skips the rest of his raid to stargaze with you in the garden, arms wrapped around you from behind as he points out different Devildom stars and constellations to you. You get a lecture on how Devildom stars are used in Devildom sailing. It’s actually kind of interesting.

Satan

Okay, seriously? The Avatar of Wrath? Author speaking here, I literally can’t picture a worse combination than an MC who’s still recovering from domestic abuse to date the AVATAR OF WRATH.

Like, yeah, he has good control over himself, but he also loses his temper in a moment’s notice.

He has CANONICALLY tortured people for calling him strange.

He flips out with no warning and destroys parts of the house and his brothers just let him do it because he’s too powerful to control when he rages.

I can absolutely see MC falling for the quiet intelligence, the consideration, and so forth, but witnessing one (1) single rage should be enough to tell them that this relationship won’t be good for their mental health.

Let’s not even talk about the (again, canonical) desire for domination, power play, pet play, etc, that kind of defines our boy.

I mean, I love Satan. Out of all the bros, he’s the only one I could imagine legit dating in real life.

But I’m a little ball of rage myself, and I have no problem with anger, mine or anyone else’s.

And the fandom (including me) can totally play cute and love on their “soft little angy boi” all they want, and he definitely has soft, sensitive sides, and I may actively choose to ignore the whole domination/power play/etc when I fic or headcanon because I really love soft!Satan….. but he’s not.

I can’t even make a headcanon, because I cannot picture a situation in which this is actually GOOD for MC.

Because no matter how hard he’ll try and control it, and how much his rage probably won’t be directed at them, I just keep picturing “It won’t happen again” except it will, and it’ll just wind up being flashbacks to the number of times “It won’t happen again” ended in black eyes or an ER visit back in the human world.

And MC walking on eggshells for eternity to avoid setting him off, and how is that healthy?

Asmodeus

Another decent choice for MC, at least on the surface.

King of consent over here, at least how I picture him. Especially for someone he cares about.

Always accepts “no” about literally anything. Don’t want sex? We’ll cuddle. Cuddling a little confining? Holding hands is cool. Really don’t want to be touched at all right now? Gossip and tea! 

You were coming to really care about the Avatar of Lust, and you believed what Simeon said about him - how much he desperately needed love and affection. You got it; you needed some, too. 

I mean, even if he’d been a bit of a jerk, he’d warmed up significantly since the pact, so new that it still burned on your skin, was formed.

But even Asmodeus wasn’t without faults. However much he focuses on love, he can sometimes, really be….mean.

You’re standing on a balcony in Diavolo’s castle, having escaped for a few moments.

He’d always been catty, gossipy, filled with drama, but the genuine affection and likability of him sometimes made you ignore it.

His constant mocking of Luke you could put down to the whole angel/demon conflict. 

His occasional snapping or poking at his brothers you could put down to being stuck in the same house with the same people for literal eons.

The only thing that might make up for your awful existence is if you just ended it.

The words haunt you as you stand looking up at Devildom’s endless nighttime.

How many times did you hear similar words yourself? How useless you were, how much of a burden, no way you’d survive on your own without him, and he didn’t even want you that much. Why didn’t you just go kill yourself?

Dammit, you think to yourself as Asmo steps out on to the balcony.

“Darling! Why are you out here all alone? Or are you waiting for some company?”

When he goes to put his arms around you, you just say “no.” Simply, quietly, emotionlessly.

Asmo circles around to look at you. “Something wrong, sweetness?”

You take a breath. Another. You consider swallowing it, again, don’t want to start a fight. Back down, put on a smile, ignore it.

But realize you can’t. You spent years dealing with this crap, and you’re not going to do it again.

“You’re mean, Azzy.” Your voice is quieter than you expected. You look up into the demon’s eyes. To his credit, he looks deeply confused and, as you take a step away from him, hurt. Before he can open his mouth, you continue, “How could you say that to Mammon?”

“Are you defending MAMMON?” He asks, torn between incredulity and anger.

“Right now? Yes. But also Luke, Lucifer, and everyone else you talk shit to. Or about. He’s your brother. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear that out of someone you love?”

Dismissively, “Oh, if it actually bothered him, he’d - “

“What? Beat you up? That’s not like him. So he takes it. And takes it, and takes it, until, because it’s all he hears, he believes it. And then why fight back? Why defend yourself, if you’re such a piece of shit? You deserve it, after all, right?”

You don’t even realize it, but you’re crying by this point. And you’re mad. All the mad you couldn’t fling at your abuser before is filling you now. You don’t even know if you’re talking about Mammon or yourself anymore. Maybe both of you.

“And even though he’s beaten down, you keep going. When he won’t respond to the usual anymore, when that doesn’t seem to hurt him, rile him up, you go worse. You told your brother, who you claim to love, to kill himself. We’re barely even friends. So what happens when I annoy you? Should I just go die now, save you the trouble of telling me to do it later?”

You step right up to him, into his personal space, almost nose to nose, and stare directly into his red-yellow eyes. “Is this who you are, Asmodeus?”

Asmo has gone from defensive; incredulous and angry, to baffled, hurt and worried in just a few minutes. But at your last, pointed question, he jerks his head back as though you slapped him. Not knowing what to say or do, he reaches for you again, but you dodge his hand and brush past him back into the castle.

You get Solomon, the only one who won’t ask questions, to switch rooms with you. (Luke is thrilled; teaching him to play gin rummy actually cheers you up a little.)

For a few weeks, you and Asmodeus pass each other in the House without speaking.  Then, one evening, there’s a knock on your door and Asmo slides into your room.

He looks….well, not awful; he could never look awful. But the glow is gone from his skin and, unless you’re mistaken, he hasn’t bothered doing his hair. He looks like he’s missed some sleep.

You look up from your homework and watch him. Silently. It’s not your job to fill the silence anymore.

More than most of them, Asmo despises being vulnerable. But it’s fix this or not, and the pact is pushing him to be on good terms. At least, he blames the pact. It’s easier than acknowledging how much the weeks of silence have worn on him. How awful it was watching you walk to class with Mammon instead of him. 

And no matter what, he values honesty in his relationships, no matter what kind of relationship. So he would be honest.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

Lean back in your chair, hands folded. Waiting.

“I don’t know….if that’s who I am. Maybe it is.”

“Why are you here, Asmo? What do you want?”

“I want you to stop ignoring me!”

Steady face. “I spent too many years having someone talk to me the way you spoke to your brother. The rest of it - the gossip, the side comments, the cattiness…. it’s not your best side. In fact, it’s pretty unattractive when it’s mean, but I could handle it. But I can’t handle cruelty. I don’t want to be around it anymore.”

A pause. “What is my best side then?”

Disgusted, you chuck a pen in his direction. “Fuck’s sake, Asmo. Get out.”

“No! Not, not that. If that’s my bad side, the **unattractive** part, then what’s the other half?”

You search his face, but he doesn’t seem to be fishing for compliments. If anything, he looks….lost. Confused. And you wonder if anyone’s ever said anything to him, good or bad, about who he was; not what he looked like or how he fucked. 

It’s not your responsibility to psychoanalyze a demon, you think to yourself. But you’re not someone to walk away. You wonder how it’s possible for someone to be thousands of years old, and know less about themselves than you know about yourself in just a few decades. And you have nothing to lose by being kind.

“You can be wonderfully kind, Asmo, and generous. You want to see the beauty in everyone and everything. As nasty as you can be with it, I’ll give you points for honesty. You connect with people, and the times you’re actually genuinely interested in them is….charming.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. Then he nods, as if he’s made a decision. “Okay. Tomorrow, after RAD, do you want to go for bubble tea?” At your confusion, he just smiles and continues, “It’s like skin care, isn’t it? Attractiveness requires effort, darling, until it becomes habit. If I want to be attractive inside as well as out, I’ll have to practice the good things, so they outweigh the bad. I can’t do that alone. I need a practice partner who won’t tolerate failure, right? At least until it’s habit.”

You feel your entire brain have to reboot before you can give a coherent response. 

“Tomorrow. One hour. I have papers due.” You wait until he leaves your room before you smile.

Beelzebub

Probably the best choice for this MC.

The most emotionally intelligent of his brothers.

Also the most sincerely kind and gentle.

But also, like Satan, prone to sudden outbursts and rages. They’re all food-related (or, rather, lack-of-food-related), but they’re there.

A smart MC always carries snacks while dating Beel. Phone, wallet, keys, fried bat wings.

Strangely, though, the food-induced rages don’t really bother you. It’s not anger, really, and it’s never once been directed at you. And, unlike back in the human world, there’s a concrete way to help: feed him.

Today you have a whole backpack full of snacks.

You’re with Belphie, watching one of Beel’s games at RAD.

(You’re not sure Belphie wants to be there, but you’re not allowed out alone, and Belphie decided to take you - keep you safe and support his brother. Two birds, one Belphie.)

Belphie tends to nap against your shoulder any time the ref goes to make a call, but he’s somehow always awake to clap for his brother. 

(You stand on your chair and cheer, but that’s you.)

The game is a close one; double overtime. Even Belphie is too tense to sleep towards the end.

And at the end of double overtime, Beel manages the single extra goal that results in victory.

You cheer yourself hoarse for your demon boyfriend.

The whole stadium is crazy, so you hang back and wait. Belphie hates crowds and you’re not keen on them yourself. It’s going to take awhile for Beel to make it through the crowd to you anyway.

You’re standing in the aisle, scrolling through your phone, when suddenly there’s a loud shout and arms wrap around you from behind and lift you up.

You gasp, and your scream strangles in your throat so what comes out of you is nothing more than a squeak. Your phone goes flying.

You’re frozen for a moment as panic surges. You want to fight and you’re fighting your own brain to push the panic into your limbs so you can fight for yourself.

You vaguely feel a tugging and you hear someone - Belphie? - insisting that you be put down and then your feet are on the ground but there’s no such thing as your legs and you start to fall before the same arms help you gently sit. The ground is gross, but you’ll only care about the damage to your skirt later.

Everything is fuzzy and confusing; you’re not even sure of what you’re looking at until your vision is filled with blue and violet.

You know that swirl of color. That’s a SAFE color, and you start feeling your poor brain start to work again.

You blink into your boyfriend’s blue-violet eyes; you realize he’s cupping your face with his hands and the weird underwater noises start to sound like his voice. You realize, very belatedly, that what probably happened was Beel lifting you up in a victory hug.

“M’okay,” you say, but it sounds robotic. It takes a few more seconds - you don’t know how many - for all of your senses and brain to actually begin working in sync again. You start hearing the sounds of the crowd departing the stadium, and you hear Beel continuing to say your name and trying to get you to answer questions. You almost smile; but smiling wouldn’t make any sense.

“I’m okay,” you say, and you must sound a little more convincing this time because Beel looks relieved. He shoots a few more questions at you, and you realize they’re the kinds of questions people get asked when someone thinks they have a concussion or head trauma.

Your answers satisfy him, so Beel helps you to your feet. 

“What was that?” He asks. “Low blood sugar? Are you hungry?”

You have to smile at his very-typical diagnosis. A little sugar wouldn’t hurt, though. For some reason, eating grounds you after something like this. You dig a chocolate bar out of your Backpack of Snacks (Snackpack?) and hand the rest to him.

He impatiently takes a bag of chips out of it but doesn’t open it. He looks at you expectantly and you realize he won’t eat until you do. So you take a bite of the chocolate and he looks more relieved.

“So what the fuck WAS that?” Belphie asks as the three of you move towards the exit.

“Later.” You haven’t yet found a reason to really tell Beel (and, by extension, Belphegor) about everything. You do later that night. 

Beel swears he’ll never surprise you like that again. He’s a lot more cautious about touching you for a few days, but eventually things go back to normal between you.

Belphegor

Author note: Dude fucking murdered you, deliberately, in cold blood, and taunted you for your gentleness and desire to help as you died. But let’s say you can get past that - or try to. Probably the second-worst choice, after Satan, for this reason.

You started dating Belphie for the strangest reason: you could trash-talk the shit out of him.

He kept trying to be around you after you made the pact (which, let’s face it, you made so you could MAKE SURE he never hurt you again). Until, after politely dodging him wasn’t working, you told him to take his emo-boy routine and fuck off somewhere else.

You flinched, waiting for retaliation, but he just blinked at you and told you to stop being a brat.

And he was smiling.

But it wasn’t a mean smile - it was a smile that shared the joke.

Your lips quivered into a returning smile, and you threw another insult at him.

He topped it, and hurled one back.

Before you knew it, the two of you were screaming obscenities at each other in the middle of the common room and laughing like hyenas.

For some reason, Belphie calling you a dumb bitch wasn’t an insult. It was a mark of endearment. And it didn’t hurt your feelings or make you afraid.

It was empowering to call him a dickhead if he did something you didn’t like and have him simply laugh and amend his behavior. Nothing bothered him.

He didn’t move quickly; in fact he didn’t move at all if he could help it.

But you would remember, sometimes, the way his hands felt on your throat, or how cold his eyes had been. And you couldn’t say it was a momentary madness, because he’d planned it. He’d been imprisoned because he wanted to kill humanity.

You put it out of your mind. It was something you were good at, after all.

Until the two of you sat down to watch a movie one evening. A simple plot hole sparked a discussion that wound up being….not an argument, but definitely a difference of opinion.

As usual, insults were flying fast and furious when suddenly Belphie laughed and smacked you with his pillow.

It wasn’t an angry move, and it wasn’t hard enough to hurt. It wasn’t a hard blow at all! But the surprise had you falling back on the couch. And the fear had you curling into a ball, arms wrapped around your head protectively, legs curled up to guard your middle.

There is dead silence.

“Hey, Brat?” Belphie asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name instead.

You slowly, very slowly, begin to uncurl yourself from your position. It takes time for the residual fear to leave, but enough is gone to leave room for embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

“I get it,” is the answer.

Cue awkward silence.

“I figured you were still afraid of me.”

“I’m not!” When he just stares blandly at you, you sigh. “Okay, a little. If you wanted to hurt me - again - you’ve had a ton of opportunities. So I don’t think you want to. But…..”

“It’s a hard thing to get over.”

“Yeah. And not just you.” Hesitantly, you start to tell him. You want to just give him the basics, but once you start talking, you can’t seem to stop. He doesn’t interrupt, barely seems to blink, just watches you. A blank vessel to help you empty the poison that fills you sometimes.

You see his jaw tighten as you go on, but you know the anger isn’t at you.

When you finish, he’s silent for a few moments. Then he gathers you up to him. “I’ll never hurt you,” he says.

You look up at him with the same bland look he gave you a moment ago.

“Again,” he amends. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

You let out a watery laugh and he hugs you a bit tighter.

“You’re still a brat, though.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

“Offer”

request; Can I get an imagine with Kokichi with an artist S/O who wants to paint him but he keeps flustering them with suggestions of a nude painting of him?

warnings; kind of suggestive, mention of nudity, cussing, mutual pining i think, i made it kinda crack fic, reader has an ultimate talent(artist), not edited too well, ended it weird like always, kissing, lowkey making out tho- 

note; wow i wrote way too much- but hey, i still hope you enjoy this!

word count; 1.9k+

You walked around the school, looking for Kokichi to ask him to be your model.

Although you have sketched Kokichi several times before, you felt you needed to ask him face-to-face so he could just stay still in his goddamn chair instead of changing positions every 5 seconds and ruining your half-done sketch. And so, you went off to go find the boy, finding it surprisingly hard to catch him. 

“There you are! I was looking for you-” You puffed out a sigh of relief, clutching your art supplies close to you as you saw your purple-haired classmate. Not a second after he caught sight of your figure jogging towards him, he had started taunting you. 

“Oooooh, hey S/o, you seem mighty happy to see me, hm? I wonder why that is…” He took a funny-looking step towards you, voice laced with an interrogating tone.

He had that strange smirk on his face, and not the one you liked. N-not that you liked his smile! In consequence of staring at him and sketching him constantly without his knowledge—or so you thought—, you have become almost a master of reading his mood and expressions. 

“Don’t get any wrong ideas, I just wanted to ask you if I could paint you.” For a small moment you swore you could see his expression twist into one of shock, before quickly melting back into his shit-eating grin. “Well of course you would! I’m the ultimate supreme leader, after all.” He acted as if he wasn’t just gob-smacked a second ago.

You beamed up at him, you had been in a small art block for a while and the moment you saw Kokichi, you knew he would be the cure to it. And so, you were ecstatic when he said what he said, “So you’ll do it?” You jumped a little too high, and spoke a little too eagerly.

“Mhm! —but with a catch, of course.” Your face dropped, you should’ve known the little fucker would try and get something out of you. “Nishishi!”

Unsure if you even wanted to know, you asked carefully, “W-what’s the catch..?” Your voice laced with caution, brain suddenly being reminded of all the pranks and blackmail he had fucked everyone else over with in the past. Knowing him, it could vary from, ‘Eat a bug.’ to, ‘Survive a knife game against me!’ 

But what he said was definitely worse than the former, and the latter. 

“You have to paint me fully-nude.”

… It was suddenly very quiet, the echo of his insane remark, bouncing off the walls. The silence mostly coming from your side—then again, what did you expect? Painting Kokichi would mean the end of your art block and a painting of Kokichi, like, c’mon, but painting Kokichi nude would mean- Well, you weren’t sure what it meant; hence, the silence.

Impatient and somewhat annoyed by the silence, he poked at your shoulder, “So? Are you gonna paint me naked or not?” You stared at your shoes, too afraid to make eye contact with the boy you were now thinking of... naked. 

“... C-can’t I just paint you normally?” He pouted, a comedically high whine erupting from his throat as he replied, “But that’s no fuuuuuun!” 

“Don’t you want to see your ultimate supreme leader, whipping out his wang?-” You shoved his face away from your warm one, “Y… I mean n-no, no!” Your tone weak before getting loud and defensive as you caught yourself before all hell broke loose. 

You felt your stomach drop as you thought about the possibility of Kokichi knowing you wanted to see him, and I quote, ‘Whipping out his wang’, Kokichi would never let that one go. 

“Aw man, well I guess you don’t wanna paint me theeeen.” He slowly stepped away, a pout on his face as his back faced towards you. He hummed circus music as he teetered on his feet, balancing on one foot at once as he ‘walked’ away from you agonizingly slow, obviously waiting for you to tell him to come back. 

“Koki-” In a flash, Kokichi had been by your side, dragging your hand to god knows where. “You have me convinced! I’ll let you paint me because I’m suuuuuch a nice guy. Nishishi!” Although you should’ve asked where the both of you were going, you felt knowing the catch was more important, “B-but what’s the catch?” 

Kokichi kept at his speedy pace, yet he answered with a voice that still had so much energy in it, “Aww, I’m hurt you think there’s a catch, do you not trust me that much?”

Silence.

“Meanie... but yeah, you were right to suspect me. The catch is.... “ He drum-rolled on your palm, “You just have to kiss me for payment!” He slowed down a bit to send a cheeky smile your way. You almost tripped on your feet as you heard him, “What!? Bu-” 

Kokichi quickly interrupted you, “Uh-uh, don’t try to pretend you don’t wanna. I know you have nooooo problem kissing those little sketches of me when you think no one is looking~” His voice quieted down sinisterly as he spoke, the evil smile spreading across his face once more. Although he had been wearing an extremely thick mask of a smile to hide his true feelings, anyone would’ve noticed that small blush on his upper right cheek. Anyone.

“You saw that?” Kokichi cackled at your agitated and flustered face, “Nishishi! Don’t worry, I’m the only one that knows. After all, no one finds you interesting enough to actually notice that.” You furrowed your brow at the subtle hint he had given you, “But you did-” 

Kokichi put on a teasing smile this time, “That was a lie! I didn’t see anything with my own eyes, I just assumed you have and so you helped me confirm it! Nice job on fucking yourself over, S/o! Nishishi~!” You rolled your eyes, you liked this guy?

Well anyways, it didn’t seem to matter whether you questioned your feelings for the liar, as you finally made it to where Kokichi had been dragging you to. You watched as Kokichi skipped away from you and hopped on the bench, surrounded by moss and other wild plants. 

“Ta-da! When I first saw this place, I immediately thought of you! You know, because you’re a nerd who likes cliché art settings.” He grinned, posing on top of the bench, “How’s this? Nishishi! Don’t answer that, I know this is perfect.”

 ... He looked like an idiot. But a cute idiot.

Suppressing a laugh, you gestured downwards to guide him down from his strange pose, “U-uh, maybe you could just, sit down? Like a normal person, I mean.” He sneered at you, before reluctantly sitting down, “You’re so boring.” The way he sat on the bench reminded you of a child who had just gotten denied candy. 

Smiling in relief, you quickly took a seat on the bench opposite to him, bringing out your supplies excitedly. Despite the pout on Kokichi’s face, and the grudge he wanted to keep, the way you so excitedly took out your canvas made his heart melt as well as his attitude. 

In the corner of your eye, you swore you could see Kokichi’s genuine smile, albeit it was lopsided but it still made you flush. Without thinking, you spoke, tilting your head upwards to look at him better, “You should smile more, you’re really pretty like that.” He… his mind blanked for a second, his façade fading away slightly to reveal a genuine expression of shock.

He quickly gained his composure back, “Um, okay? I always smile, are you blind?” Despite his passive-aggressive reply, you couldn’t find any reason to be mad, although you should’ve been. You smiled fondly and shook your head, diving back into concentration towards your canvas.

--

After an hour of pointless conversation, flirting, and calculated strokes of your brush, you were satisfied with the result. “... Alright, I’m done.” Kokichi sighed exasperatedly as he stood up and stretched, “Finally! I was afraid my limbs were going to freeze forever in that position.” You stared at him accusingly, “You didn’t even stay still the entire time. At one point, you did a fucking cartwheel-” 

Kokichi slid on over you, leaning over your seated figure to peak at the painting of him. “Lemme see!” He reached for the painting with his pale hands, causing you to jerk the painting away from his reach. “It’s not dry yet! Just look, don’t touch.” You scolded, unamused by his pouty expression. “You’re no fun S/o-chan, but okay. I know how much you like to be in charge~” He teased, before finally laying his eyes on the painting he stayed still one whole hour for. 

You felt your anxiety rise at his silence, “... Well, d-do you like it?” Although you were pretty confident in your ultimate talent and skills, for some odd reason, you felt extremely nervous when you showed it to Kokichi. 

You were confused as to why your hands were shaking, you’ve shown your artwork to galleries, museums, the harshest art critics in the world! So why the hell did it matter so much to you if this one boy liked it or not?

“I think it looks super handsome! And by it, I mean me. Nishishi!” He grinned, “I look good in everything after all.” You scoffed, you couldn’t believe you actually expected a genuine compliment from Kokichi, of all people. 

“Hey so, it’s time for your payment you know?” Payment... what? You looked up at him in confusion, big fat crocodile tears sprung out from his eyes, “Waaaah! I can’t believe S/o forgot our deal!” You flushed again as you were suddenly reminded of the kiss. 

You sighed tiredly, “You were serious?” He glared at you, “I’m always serious!” You gave him an accusing look that screamed, ‘You know that’s bullshit.’ But sighed defeatedly for what seemed like the umpteenth time. As you stood up to walk up to him, you set your painting down nearby.

Squirming underneath his expectant gaze, you leaned in torturously slow until your noses were nearly touching, your eyes were glued to his lips nervously. You kind of just… stood there, waiting. Waiting for him to take initiative, as he usually does. “... You know, You’re kissing me, right? Not the other way around.” His voice was lower, quieter than usual, and you could feel his breath within each word.

He smirked at your awkward shuffle towards him, finding your averting eyes and flushed face extremely endearing. Though Kokichi would never admit it, deep down he was nervous too- But of course, he refused to ever admit that reality. Even to himself.��

“I-I know that! I was just… preparing.” He hummed a skeptical ‘Okay’, standing patiently for the kiss you owed him. Letting out a shaky breath, you quickly pressed your lips on his, before immediately pulling away. Well, you tried pulling away. Kokichi gripped your collar, eagerly going in for more. His lips enveloped yours roughly, he could feel you trying to back away and so he just decided he had to go even harder. 

Once he pulled away, he saw your lips puffy and swollen, and face completely dazed. You wanted to ask him why he stopped but he interrupted you before you could, “You know, I never said you had to kiss my lips, pervert〜” Your eyes widened at his statement, “It seems you’ve been wanting this for a while, huh?” You didn’t say anything, only fuelling his fire. 

“Nishishi! You’re so obsessed with me, it’s adorable~” You took a defensive step back, “I-I am not!” He suddenly leaned his face dangerously close to yours, grinning sadistically as he heard your whimper. “You shouldn’t lie, you know? Especially not to me.” He leaned in next to your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth and biting gently. 

“Anyway!” You snapped out your daze as he barked suddenly, “The nude painting offer still stands, you know!” He yelled out, walking away from you, strangely.

[solarwonux]

10.  “I still remember the way you taste.”

31.  “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

villain!wonwoo x superhero!f!reader

w.c: 2.6k (it was mistake okay I got carried away we should know this by now)

warnings: fluff, talks of death, ghosts, torture if you squint, graveyards, digging up graves (don’t do that yall), angst a little, it’s hinted that the reader can communicate with ghosts. (if you’re uncomfortable with any of these themes this one is not for you)

note: I CAN EXPLAIN OKAY I KNOW YOU WANTED JOKER WONWOO BUT LIKE IT STARTED OFF THAT WAY AND THEN I GOT SOFT. Enjoy let know your thoughts please, they mean so much to me. 

Also i will answer asks at some point, school is just keeping me super busy, BUT IM NOT IGNORING THEM THEY MAKE ME SMILE EVERY TIME I SEE THEM.

masterlist || drabble game

Wonwoo wiped the sweat off of his brow with the back of his hand, panting slightly as he stared down at the empty grave. “Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Vernon asked, digging his shovel into the ground with the heel of his boot. He rested his forearm against the handle looking at Wonwoo through his sweaty bangs. 

“There is no reason, I was just bored.” Wonwoo shrugged, his cheeks were dusted with dirt and his white dress shirt was anything but white. The truth was he had a reason, he needed a way to meet you halfway and causing chaos was the only way to get you out of that shiny tower in the middle of the city where all the heroes resided. But his reasoning would never be voiced out loud, especially not to Vernon and so he lied like it was second nature to him. 

Wonwoo missed you, He missed getting under your skin with his snarky remarks and idiotic plans to take over the world. Or at least the city. The world was his end goal, but in order to do that he needed to succeed at taking over the city first and so far he had failed. Mainly, do to you and your teammates interrupting his plans. Though along the way something unexpected happened. He had undoubtedly fallen truly, madly, deeply in love with you. It had annoyed him at first, his mind was constantly enveloped with thoughts of you. Interrupting everything he spent years working on. 

It took him months to come to terms with his unwanted feelings and if he hadn’t snuck into the masked ball held every year at the tower; he probably wouldn’t have. But the second he saw you come down the grand staircase of the ballroom wearing a dress so blue, it put the night sky to shame; he kissed you before he could stop himself. Despite the mask he was wearing you had spotted him in the crowd and led him down an empty hallway when his urges got the best of him causing him to sin. When he pulled away he was shocked just as you were, but he was definitely floored when you had cut his apology short and kissed him again. 

“So you decided to dig up an empty grave for fun?” Vernon pushed his dirt stained hand through his hand, leaving behind little specks of dirt in its wake. “How did you even know this grave would be empty?” 

“It’s mine...well used to be mine. Obviously I’m not dead.” Wonwoo’s nonchalant tone sent shivers up Vernon’s back. Once again he found himself wondering why the hell he always found himself going along with Wonwoo’s schemes. He knew there was a reason. Wonwoo never did anything without calculating all his moves beforehand, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the true reason, more so if he was going to find out soon anyway. His suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of you. He should’ve known that this was just another one of Wonwoo’s ways to get to you. 

Vernon didn’t understand your relationship with Wonwoo, scientifically it didn’t make sense. In simple terms Wonwoo was hated by everyone and you on the other hand were not. But the two of you had snuck around for years up until the accident five months ago. Ever since then Wonwoo’s spirits were low and he was going mad. If he wasn’t holed up in his tiny room at the apartment he was bent over a desk mumbling to himself, trying to come up with ways in which he could see you again. All of Wonwoo’s attempts before this one had failed and to say he wasn’t surprised to see you sit down, legs hanging over the edge of the grave while looking down at Wonwoo lovingly, he would be lying. Though, he supposed it had to do with the fact that Wonwoo’s grave was dug up. 

“You guys having fun there?” Wonwoo jumped. He rapidly smoothed down his shirt, leaving behind streaks of dirt, and fixed his hair before turning around. A smug smile adorning his features. Vernon shook his head and rolled his eyes. Sometimes he missed the days in which Wonwoo wasn’t in love. 

“Princess what brings you here?” He winked. His clammy hands grew more wet as he leaned against the shovel, before it failed underneath his weight causing him to trip. Seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air, the pictures he kept of you and looked at every night did you no justice. For you shined brighter than the stars in the night sky and it always made Wonwoo’s heart skip a beat. 

“Cut the shit Wonwoo, I know you’ve been turning this city upside down at least once a week to get under my skin.” 

“Well, what was I supposed to do? You haven’t been answering my calls, texts or emails.” Wonwoo threw his hands up in disbelief and you rolled your eyes at his ignorance. 

“Apologize, that’s all you had to do and you wouldn’t be here digging your own grave...literally.” You huffed crossing your arms in front of you, ripping your eyes away from his. Suddenly the memory of the accident came lingering back. You knew, given his nature, Wonwoo was calculated. He used his powers to affiliate pain on his victims without moving a muscle to get what he wanted. Though, he had never used it on you, until that night. 

He had been blinded by rage and pain and you had never seen him use so much power in your years of knowing him. It scared you and when you had tried to coax him out of whatever state he was in. He did the one thing he promised he would never do. 

He used his abilities on you. 

Wonwoo sighed before hosting himself out of the hole and taking the empty seat next you. “I wanted to do it in person, but you never showed up.” He looked down at his hands playing with his fingers, twirling the ring on his pinky. His body was consumed with guilt as your screams of agony replayed in his head. Just like they did every night. He had never once felt anything but satisfaction and bliss whenever he used his powers on someone. In fact he loved the way his victims begged him to stop, that was until you were on the receiving end of his torture. 

“You know where I live. It’s a big shiny tower in the center of town. Pretty hard to miss honestly.” The airy playfulness of your voice made his stomach swirl. He truly missed you and not just on nights when the two of you gently explored each other's bodies, but just in general. 

“I know but you know how much I hate the others, especially Joshua. He always has to stick his nose into matters that don’t concern him.” He huffed, flicking a tiny spec of dirt off of his trousers. “And I was scared.” He confessed lowly, shocking Vernon who had now taken it upon himself to sit on the soil filled ground to watch the spectacle in front of him. Wonwoo never admitted his fears and though Vernon sometimes could feel them radiating off him. It was different hearing it come from his friend's mouth. 

“Of Joshua? Dude’s only got super strength and-”

“No of you. I was scared to see you suffer and to turn me away. I was scared that if I did show up putting aside indifference for your friends just to hear you say that you didn’t love me anymore.” Wonwoo let out a deep sigh at the ending of his words. He dropped his shoulders feeling the weight being lifted off them. He felt your body shake next to him and it confused him greatly, even more so when it was followed by your laugh. Though he loved it and missed it greatly. He couldn’t deny the anger he felt towards you as you laughed at his vulnerability. 

Slowly, he felt his heart close up again and brought himself up to his feet faster than he could blink. His feet moved faster than the doubt racing through his veins and your laughter came to a stop. 

He now remembered why he swore to never love again all those years ago. 

“Wonwoo, wait come back.” You hurried to your feet, smoothing down the creases on your leggings. Vernon copied your movements. He could sense the fear coming from your body, and it overwhelmed his senses. Behind his soft eyes he quietly told you to hurry before Wonwoo did something he wasn’t supposed to. Even though Wonwoo always did without planning ahead of time, there were a few instances where he didn’t care and acted carelessly. And he found himself fearing more for your heart rather than his friend's safety. 

You sighed tugging on the sleeves of your sweatshirt before turning around and ran after the only man you had ever loved. You passed many tombstones, silently paying your respects until you stopped in the middle of a small clearing, home to one familiar tombstone and Wonwoo. His hands in his pocket, eyebrows furrowed and his teeth chewing down on his teeth. 

“After she died, I promised her I wouldn’t love anyone again.” He whispered, “but then you came along and ruined it.” He turned his head, his eyes glossy with wanted tears. “Do you know how much I beat myself up every day for what I did to her. For what I did to you. I hate myself for it, I hate that I can inflict pain on everyone else but myself because I’m not one that should be suffering, not everyone else.” 

By now he had finally let his tears go. They raced down his cheeks rapidly and it shattered your heart. 

“It hurts me that you think that way about yourself. She didn’t die because of you, you tried to save her and-”

“I was too late.” Wonwoo snorted and rolled his eyes. He stared intently at the tombstone in front of him, reading his little sister’s name over and over again, letting it burn feverishly inside his mind. He missed her dearly and sometimes he wondered why you never told him anything about the conversations you would have with her whenever she visited you. But you had told him that it was a family secret between the two of you and he never questioned you again because you had used the word family and it made him feel all giddy inside.

“Let me talk Wonwoo.” You said closing the gap between you and Wonwoo. You grabbed his face in your hands and wiped away his tears with the pad of your thumb. He had always been there to comfort you on your lowest days. His sweet words and warmth grounded you back onto the Earth, but you had never gotten the opportunity to do the same to him. He always kept himself closed off and reserved. It had taken almost a year into your secret, not so secret relationship for him to tell you about his sister’s unfortunate death and a few more months after that for him to say that he loved you. Despite all those small passing moments of vulnerability he had never once cried in front of you. 

“I love you and you’re stupid for thinking that I would love you any less because of what happ-”

“I hurt you though,” Wonwoo cut you off, earning a ground shattering glare from you that sent shivers up his spine. “Sorry you can continue.” He whispered. 

“Thank you.” You smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, making him freeze. You were the strangest person he had ever had the pleasure in knowing because normal people would never be as comfortable as you were in his presence. “I know the kind of person you are Wonwoo, through this cold exterior there is the most loving and sensible person I have ever known. I mean, baby, you spent a whole day sulking because you forgot to water your plant.” 

“You gave me that plant for my birthday, therefore he’s our child.” 

“This is exactly my point, you have the biggest of anyone I have ever known. Unfortunately, you have been dealt a bad hand in life and I really don’t understand your obsession with taking over the world. But you’re not a monster.” 

“I hurt people though, sometimes for fun.” He whispered against your skin. In the midst of your speech he had given in and circled his arms around your waist before burying his face into the crook of your neck. Leaving the two of you in an awkward and uncomfortable position. 

“And who are those people?”

“Bad people.”

“Exactly baby, they’re the scum of the Earth and you have helped stop them.” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t make me a hero. I’m just doing what you guys can’t do. On top of that Joshua’s super strength is useless, he only gets praised because he’s hot.” Wonwoo finished and raised his head, smirking. He sent you a playful wink, tears long forgotten, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Mingyu takes forever to get ready, but that’s besides the point. You’re not a monster so stop treating yourself like one.” 

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He pouted batting his eyelashes at you. 

“Yes you big idiot.” 

“Then...why haven’t you kissed me yet?” He puckered his lips and made kissing noises, making you laugh. “Hey I’m waiting and you know I’m impatient.” He spoke through pouted lips as he leaned in closer, his lips hovered over yours teasingly until you finally caved and kissed him. He sighed happily against your mouth and deepened the kiss. He had spent five months without the feeling of your touch and it scared him that he would forget how it felt. Yet, now as he kissed you with everything in him he realized he hadn’t and it overjoyed him to the point in which he accidentally let out a moan; making you pull away quickly and eyeing him down. 

“Control yourself, your sister, her friends and Vernon are here.” You scolded making him pout. 

“I’m sorry, i just...I still remember the way you taste, and I got excited.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Before he could plant his lips on yours again he was met with your hand pushing him away. He whined as you tore his arms away from your waist, his body growing cold. “Nooo, one more kiss.” He reached out making grabby hands at you like a child. Instead of giving into what he wanted you turned and started walking away, “Wait, where are you going?” He stumbled against his own feet before following you. 

“Home.” You looked over at him and stuffed your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. “You have a grave to cover up with Vernon.” 

“But I haven’t seen you in five months, just give me five more minutes please.” 

“Wonwoo you just didn’t look hard enough baby.” You said giving him a knowing smirk before leaning over, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. He felt his eyes grow in realization as everything started to click in his head. If what you had hinted was the truth and you had shown up to every single sight he had caused trouble in, then he had to give it to you. You were a lot more clever than you led on. “Don’t think about it too hard, I’ll leave my window open for you.” You smiled widely giving his cheek a pat and disappeared through the trees. 

“You live on the twenty fourth floor.” He yelled after you, his hands falling down at his side in defeat. He heard someone snort next to him and suddenly he remembered that Vernon was there silently observing everything, just like always did. 

“Figure it out baby, you always do.”

[urijihoons-blog]

Bokuto: Clarity

/ Kōtarō Bokuto x reader /

genre: angst ish to questionable fluff

wc: 2604

summary: You end up somewhere familiar, but not with someone familiar. One things for sure, the truth will come out soon enough.

warnings: mentions of anxiety

a/n: You guys!!!!!!!! I’m so glad you all love this fic 🥺 your comments and likes and reblogs encourage me so much!! Thank you so much for your love!!!! 💗💗💗

pt3

///

You wake up in a daze. No, you wake up... in a hotel room? The suite looked just like Bokuto’s, is that where you are? You hoped so.

You picked up your head, peered around the room looking for his things to confirm your suspicions, and lifted your upper body to lean on the headboard of the bed. Suddenly, there are footsteps coming from the bathroom area. “Bokuto?” You inquire, anxious to see his face while you could blame it on the alcohol. A laugh comes from the hallway, and it isn’t his. Oh, oh no.

Atsumu comes around the corner, shirtless and basketball shorts, with a cup of water. He laughs when he sees the horror on your face, thinking it’s a joke. You check your clothing frantically, everything is still buttoned, zipped, and tied. You look up at him, still terrified of the blank space of time from the bar until now, “We didn’t... did we?” Atsumu laughs even harder but then notices the look of panic in your eyes. He straightens up, coughing while handing you Tylenol and the cup of water. “No, of course not. You’re Bo’s girl.”

Those words stung. “Not anymore.” Those words, they really stung. You hadn’t actually had the thought of it being completely over until now. It’s hitting you, wave after wave. Everything went wrong, and now you, you’re suffocating-

“Y/N,” Atsumu’s at the edge of the bed, looking you in the eyes with fear, “please breathe. Take a second and breathe.” You try to hold it in, and take deeper breaths but your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, it feels as though it’s going to burst. The next thing you know, you’re on the ground hugging your knees into your chest as tightly as you can. Your eardrums cut out all other sounds, they were just echoing your heartbeat. With your face turned into the carpet, you’re sobbing breathlessly. Atsumu jumps up and grabs his phone, eyes scared to no end. “I’m calling Kuto, now.”

“N-no, please d-don’t.” You say as strongly as you can. You lift your head and force your breaths to become decently even. “Please give me more time.”

“You know,” he looked down at you with a concerned look, “you need to talk to him soon.”

Your eyes furrowed in distress before saying, “Why should I? It’s quite obvious what went on between them, why should I do anything for him?” You wiped some spare tears still leaving your eyes from your panic attack. “I don’t want to see him-“

“Your first thought when you woke up here,” he motioned around the room, “was that you were with him.” Atsumu stated bluntly, he lifted an eyebrow, “You think I didn’t hear the hope in your voice when you called for him?” You blinked, completely stunned at how he read you so easily. “Also, from what I’ve gathered these past couple of weeks, Tamra isn’t very trustworthy when it comes to telling the truth.”

“She didn’t have to tell me anything,” you sighed heavily, hugging your knees again. “I saw it, ‘Tsumu.” You tried to blink away the tears yet again. “And it wasn’t just a ‘She was close to him and he was close to her’ type deal. It was a ‘She was only wearing a towel and he was shirtless in the hotel suite by themselves, ready to get their room service’ type deal.”

Atsumu looked honestly shocked. He started talking with his hands, “Well, that doesn’t make much sense.” He slightly raised his voice, and you realized he was talking more to himself than to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Kuto, is a simple, oblivious man. When Tamra started talking to him after some of our practice games, they only talked volleyball. I honestly just thought they became friends.” Atsumu pulled his hand to his chin in thought. “They never hung out outside of the courts, unless we all went out to the bar down the street, but even then it was always in a big group.”

“So what are you trying to say to me?”

“What I’m trying to say is that Kuto has texted in our team groupchat about looking for you in the city. He’s given us your complete physical description and told us to call him if any of us see you. We’re told to take you to him as soon as possible.” Atsumu tries to hold in a giggle at the whole situation. “He seems like he’s going out of his mind right now.”

Your face froze. “So, why haven’t you taken me to him? Or even told him that I’m here?”

His smile diminished slightly, “Because of how you were talking about him at the bar.” His face became serious. “You were,” he paused, taking a deep breathe, “ are, so hurt, Y/N. And as much as I don’t truly think he did this to you, there is the smallest of possibilities. And if he did, which God forbid if he did, I don’t think he should have the satisfaction of being able to see you at your lowest. I wanted to sober you up, talk to you first, and then figure it out from there.” Atsumu talked with such kindness, your respect for him instantly grew. “So, what do you think you want to do?”

You sat there for a couple of minutes in silence, ‘Tsumu waiting for your response. You finally looked up, certain, “Call him, and tell him to come here.”

//

“She hasn’t come back to the bar.”

“She hasn’t come by the airport.”

“Her suitcase was left in the hotel, so maybe she’ll come back here?”

No one knew where you were, which Bokuto didn’t expect them to. He just wished for a different way. Wished that he could’ve explained it when he had the chance, wished he wasn’t in such a damning situation in the first place. Bokuto should’ve never trusted Tamra, he should’ve listened to his friends, and now he pays for it.

~

It was the third day of training camp, and Bokuto was completely focused. His practice matches were getting tougher, ralleys taking longer. After a while, he was becoming tired.

“Hey, Bokuto right?” A small voice perked up.

Bokuto turned to face a short, young woman, petite, with a kind smile. She wore a track suit, but not for his team, must’ve been another team’s manager. “Yes?”

“You’re doing great out there! I’ve heard of you before but I didn’t expect this.” She laughed, clutching her clipboard.

Bokuto laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks!”

He walked back towards his teammates, who were taking a water break, when he heard one of the guys say, “Kuto, I wouldn’t get too close to her, she’s bad news.” Bokuto furrowed his brow in confusion, waiting for the rest of the reason.

“Yeah,” another piped up, “I heard she tried to break up Ushijima and his wife, uh, Kate.”

“Guys, she probably just doesn’t have any friends! She seems nice enough, and you know I would never do anything to hurt, Y/N.” Bokuto’s expression was playful, but his words were dead serious. He truly believed what he said. “Plus, Toshi gets a big head sometimes, I bet that girl said two words to him and he got flustered.” Bokuto laughed, his team looked around for a second and they laughed too, trusting him.

So for the next week and a half, Tamra would speak to Bokuto every once in a while. Always something nice, always something about volleyball. Sometimes about his own experience, other times about how he helps lead the team. Never once did he actually think there was anything going on, because he trusted himself to recognize the signs. He didn’t want anyone other than you, so he didn’t worry about anyone other than you. A couple days later and Tamra has started going to the bar with the whole team. Everyone cutting up, acting like old friends. Everything seemed fine, but then it all went to hell.

Tamra:

‘Kuto, can I come use your shower? The hotel staff says that mine won’t be fixed for a couple of hours and I feel gross.’

Bokuto:

‘Yeah, that’s fine. I’m in room 428.’

Tamra showed up shortly after, and he had just gotten out of the shower. She knocked, and he answered, allowing her to step in. “Thank you so much, I just feel gross.”

“No problem, I understand the feeling.” Bo laughed sheepishly, looking through his drawers for a shirt. He heard her stomach growl, and laughed a booming laugh. “Someone’s hungry?” He looked over at her, and she nodded, giggling. “I haven’t eaten dinner either, I’ll order room service.” She bowed her head slightly in thanks. “What do you want?” He asked, standing to grab the menu from beside the dresser.

“I want.. a burger, and fries, and..” she paused, staring at him trivially. She took a couple of steps forward. She was a breath away from him. “You.” Faster than he could stop her, Tamra kissed Bokuto, hard. Her hands grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into her unwillingly.

He grabbed her arms and wrenched them off of him. “No.” He breathed hard, using the back of his wrist to wipe his mouth. His eyes darkened slightly with anger. “No, do not do that again.”

“But, I thought-“

“No, you thought wrong. I have a fiancé, remember?” He looked at her confused, as if she hadn’t heard him talk about you for the last 2 weeks at all. Her eyes looked desperate. “How-“

“I’m so sorry!” Tamra blurted, holding a hand to her chest. She looked as if she had been wounded as she turned her face away. “I am so so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I guess, I just wasnt thinking. Please forgive me, I don’t want this to be held against me.” As fast as the anger came, it also left. Bokuto felt bad for her, and she looked ashamed of herself enough.

“Okay. Just do not do it again. I am only a friend.” He said, and walked towards the hotel phone. “Once you’re out of the shower, the food will be here, but I would rather you go to your own room to eat.”

“Okay, I can do that.” She said in a small voice.

Bokuto watched her stalk towards the bathroom, and went about ordering room service. What he didn’t see was the sly smile on Tamra’s face, or her calculating moves up until this point. She had made herself look innocent, but in reality, she had a plan. She wanted the scandal, and the chaos that came with it.

~

‘And she got it.’ Bokuto thought to himself. ‘She definitely got it.’ A sudden buzz took him out of his head, saved him from his thoughts. He lifted the phone to his ear, not even bothering to look at the caller. “Y/N?”

“No, but I do need to talk to you about her. Come to my room, ASAP.” Atsumu said calmly.

Bokuto looked at his phone, not believing that Atsumu really wanted to help. “I’m confused, you weren’t at the bar tonight, what do you know exactly?”

“Come to room 317, this is important.” Atsumu seemed very serious about this.

“I’m on my way.”

///

The hotel room was cold, so you had to cover yourself in the bed’s blankets to keep from shivering. Everything felt too foggy. You were sobering up quick, the thought of having to look him in the face making you shiver on its own. A knock came from the door and you glanced over at Atsumu, the mix of emotions becoming too much. He was already looking at you, waiting for the okay. You steadied yourself, giving him a nod. He moved swiftly to the entryway of the suite, and opened the door. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear his voice. “What do you know?” Bokuto rasped, walking in. He followed Atsumu’s gaze and finally found you, his golden eyes softening.

You froze under his intense stare. His eyes taking the sight of you in. You hadn’t even thought to have taken a look at yourself, you probably looked how you felt, like a train wreck. He took a step toward you, and you made sure to stay still, knowing, with the look on his face, he was hurting too.

“Y/N?” He took another step forward, lifting his hand as if he was holding it out for you.

Atsumu, grabbing his car keys, sighed. “Well, I’ll let you two talk this out.”

Bokuto turned toward him, his face flashing with anger, making him stop in his tracks, “We will have our own talk later.” Atsumu opened the door quickly, leaving in a flash.

“Don’t be too upset at him.” You whispered softly. Bokuto turned his complete attention to you, sitting on his knees by your bedside. “He only did what he did to help me, and you.”

A silence fell between you two as you stared at each other. Bokuto looked disheveled, his hair down, his clothes were wrinkled, and his face. Oh, his face, so sad. And his eyes were not as bright. He looked tired. “Y/N,” he muttered softly, “please let me explain.”

He waited for your permission, but you sat there silently. “Will it make everything better, or worse?” He looked down, his mind, no doubt, moving hundreds of miles a second. You spoke up, and he looked back up at you. “Because tonight, I was broken. I felt as though I was forgotten, that I wasn’t needed in the same way that I need you. I felt as though I had been replaced.” You breathed shakily, tears already forming in your eyes. His expression dropped immediately, tears streaking down his face. “Will what you say make me forget these things? Will what you say to me make me see you clearly?” You looked down at your hands, holding them together, as if they were holding you together. The flesh around your ring turned white, along with your knuckles, because of how tightly you pressed them.

Bokuto’s left hand covered your own, and you noticed a small glint of something shiny. There, on his ring finger, was his wedding ring you had chosen. Your breath hitched as you stared at his hand, at his finger, at the ring. “Y/N,” he started, but you already unclasped your hands and was holding his.

“You,” looking him in the eye, “you put it on.”

“Of course I did.” He smiled sadly, wiping a tear from his cheek. His eyes suddenly shot up and looked at his hand frantically, bringing his hand back. His fingers grazed his ring, “If you don’t want me to wear it anymore I can take it off, I would understand-“

“No!” You said hastily, his eyes getting wide. “No, it’s okay.” Your eyes softened, and you gently grabbed his hand and brought it back down to your lap. “Do you like it?”

He chuckled slightly, putting his other hand on yours. “I absolutely love it.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, but then his eyes glazed over. His face fell, and you knew what was going to happen next. “As much as I don’t want to, we have to talk about this, so we can move on.” He spoke timidly. “So we can be happy again.” You sat there, unmoving. He waited for your permission to continue. You nodded firmly.

Will you have the clarity you want- you need? You hope so.

///

Part 4 will be the last chapter and should be up in a couple of days :))

Update: heres part 4 :)

[fandom-thingies]

We Exist In Parallel (But We’re Not The Same)

Working title: Dream face reveal NOT pog

Dream is everything Tommy refuses to become.

He’s seen so much more of him, so much more of what he’s made himself than any other member of the SMP.

He knows Dream’s quirks, knows his ticks and unconscious gestures and nervous habits he never managed to break, and it hurts because Tommy has so many of the same.

He’s not sure why, to be honest.

He suspects it might be a kind of influence, all the time he’s spent around the bastard creating a distorted reflection of that famous smiling mask.

Or maybe it’s just coincidence, just two people similar in only the most ironic ways, echoed in all the least comfortable places.

Dream hates it too, he knows. When Tommy reaches a hand up to scratch his chin the same way he might if most of his face were covered, when he takes up a battle stance built for agility rather than the bashing Techno’d taught him…

He knows Dream, yeah? He knows what a flinch looks like from him.

Especially when they flinch the same way.

But they aren’t the same, no. Couldn’t be less similar, in a lot of ways.

Tommy stakes everything he has on his ability to care, Dream throws it all away for just one iota more control. Dream gives someone a gift and expects them to pay it back, Tommy gives someone a gift and expects them to dismiss it.

Tommy sacrifices everything he has for his friends, Dream sacrifices his friends to keep his power.

Fucking funhouse mirrors, they are.

So Tommy knows him and Dream are a lot alike, yeah? He’s uncomfortably fucking aware.

That doesn’t mean he’d ever have predicted this, though.

Because who would, right? Who could?

Tommy points his axe at Dream and tells him to put his stuff in the hole and it’s a triumphant moment because finally, finally, he’s got an assured win.

He’s got his friends at his back, Tubbo safe and sound, the discs away from Dream, and there’s nothing left to hit him with, nothing left that could destroy this perfect victory over the one who’s tormented them all so long.

Dream leaves some of his stuff on, so Tommy tells him no, all of it, and Dream complies and something about the action feels off and Tommy doesn’t figure out what it is until Dream’s taken everything off and has his hand in the claps of his mask, saying,

“Are you sure?” With that horrible false sympathy he specializes in, and Tommy says

“Yes, I’m fucking sure, or I wouldn’t have said it! Unless you’re that fucking ugly, why’s it even matter?” And oh, how he eats those words.

Because Dream just laughs, undoes the clasp, pulls his mask away from his face as gently as you tell your child Santa is only a story, and his face-

He’s got Tommy’s face.

He-

They could be twins, if not for the scars on Tommy Dream put there himself.

“Wh- The fuck? You ‘sposed to be my long lost brother or some shit?” And he says it sarcastically, but he’s only half joking.

Dream laughs again, like it’s all some fucking joke only he’s privy to.

“Oh, Tommy, that would be fun, wouldn’t it? I think Phil might have mentioned it, though,” And Dream tilts his head to the side, and it’s such a damn cold expression, not an ounce of fucks given, like he doesn’t even care and the worst part of it, Tommy thinks, is that he knows Dream does care, in his own fucked up way, and he does all this shit anyway.

“No, I’m not your brother.” And what the fuck does that mean, anyway? Vague ass answer, just so the fucker can drag the conversation out a little longer, just another fucking power play and Tommy is so tired of it all.

So he doesn’t play Dream’s game.

“Look, asshole, I don’t give a shit if you’re my evil twin or whatever. It doesn’t change shit, yeah? You still suck and the server would still be better off without you in it, so spill or don’t but do it fast because I’ve had it up to here with your shit.”

And Dream looks surprised, for a moment, the calculated shock looking utterly foreign on Tommy’s face, before he wipes it away and smiles in a way that looks perfectly at home on his face because that’s Tommy’s smile, and he says,

“I thought it would be obvious, Tommy. I named all my armor and weapons Nightmare, of all things,” and Tommy doesn’t know where Dream is going with this but he hates it already and Dream continues “I figured calling everything Clementine would be too much of a giveaway, but maybe I should have just gone for it, if you’re going to be this oblivious,” And the pieces are fitting together in Tommy’s head but the picture they create makes no goddamn sense, the hell-?

“What are implying here, Dream?” It’s Tubbo who says it, voice still ringing with the blankness it’d held when he’d told Tommy this is checkmate, I suggest you resign-

“Well, the future is a dark place, you know? Just ask Karl. Shit sucks, so I left,” and he’s saying words and they aren’t really registering because he’s changed his accent just a bit, pitched his voice two centimeters to the left and altered his vocabulary and when he says that sentence Tommy nearly feels for his own throat to make sure he hadn’t said the words himself.

And just-

What. The fuck.

“Fuck this.” Tommy says in one of the deadest tones he’s ever mustered, and he raises the Axe of Peace over his head because this doesn’t change anything, not really.

“Aw, Tommy, you wouldn’t kill yourself, would you?” And here’s where Tommy sees the situation for truth, sees the utter fucking lack of comprehension in Dream’s (his) eyes, and he just,

Tommy just laughs. 

“Wouldn’t I, Dream?” And Dream flinches.

“Because I’m pretty fucking certain that I tried, several times,” and there’s a soft gasp behind him he can’t identify but it doesn’t matter because he is at his wits end.

“I’m pretty fucking sure I stood at the edge of a lava pit and tried to jump, and you pulled me back and said it wasn’t my time yet, and that makes so much more sense now because you really can’t grasp your own goddamn mortality, can you?”

He lowers the axe, but his grip doesn’t loosen.

“I also remember the time after you blew up Logstedshire, left everything me and Ghostbur’d built as a fucking burning ruin, I remember kinda fucking clearly when I towered up until I could see past what you’d done to me and only landed in water by chance,” And his hand on the axe hurts but he needs the grounding it provides because these memories aren’t painless.

“And that’s not- That’s not even mentioning all the times I woke up breathing seawater and I’m still not sure whether you fucked with my bed somehow or whether I just wanted it all to end that goddamn much, but you say I wouldn’t kill myself?” He feels like he can’t get enough air, the recollection of the sea in his lungs hitting almost as hard as Dream had, all those times.

“Don’t fucking pretend you’re me. I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, to be honest I don’t really care, but either way you’re not me and you never will be,” 

Dream takes a step back, hitting the blackstone wall he built himself, and there’s something poetic in that, but Wilbur is dead to Dream’s machinations and Tommy doesn’t have any fucks left to give.

“Because you know the difference between us, Dream?”

Dream looks at him, two inches taller than Tommy, five years older, and not an ounce of wisdom to show for it. Dream is taller but he’s not the one looming here, not the one who holds the scene in his hands and shapes it how he sees fit, and Tommy knows now the real reason Dream always wears a mask, because he’s doing nothing to hide the fear in his face.

“What’s the difference?” He asks, and Tommy knows in an instant that Dream really, genuinely has no clue where he went so wrong.

“I care.” Tommy says, and swings the axe.

[katsuki-goodness]

'You Make My Heart Beat' Part 3 - Deku x Reader

Summary: Your friendship grew but then, he disappeared with the words that came out of his lips being, "Please, stay safe".

How many years has it been since you last cut your hair? One. Only one if you can recall. When was the last time you saw your best friend as he walked you inside the dorms to UA? About 3 years. He had gone missing for that many years. No one knows what happened to him, not even his mother who was the last to see him that very night. You had been contacted in the morning by her and she sounded very worried, alarming you right away when she asked if you had see Izuku or if he was with you. He was not. The last memory of him was him telling you to stay safe.

At that time, yes, it was worrisome but it was your best friend who was gone, disappeared. Even when you got the called from Izuku's mother, you were standing around the living area that morning with your classmates before class, when they heard you mutter out, "Izuku is not with you?". They all stayed silent with everyone looking at each other.

You quickly went over to his dorm room, searching for him. You wanted to make sure he was there, that he was okay and what you had been feeling before was not a warning sign.

Even knocking on the door didn't bring him out. You tried the handle and it was unlocked, pushing through it but it was empty. No one was here. Some of his figures were still here, and it looked like he recently had been here as his books were stacked all across his desk. Even the covers on his bed were moved a bit as if someone had been sitting there. It had caught you off guard but did it really? You saw it coming, or more like you felt it in your gut. You knew something was wrong, you knew he was acting strange but you couldn't figure it out. It wasn't obvious but his mannerisms, those were much obvious to anyone who talked to him.

You blamed yourself because he was hurting and you didn't take the chance to ask, but you had asked. You asked him but you were quickly put at ease even when you felt like it wasn't true. At the same time, you didn't know the circumstances would get this far.

It clearly wasn't your fault but you continued to blame yourself. You could have done more to help him, made sure he got home, and even offered him out to eat at least. Anything to get him from feeling alone.

No matter how much you thought about Izuku, it wasn't going to bring him back. You held onto the thought that he was alive, that nothing happened to him, but as your daily routine of patrolling the city had been extended because of a hero who had an emergency and had gone home, you had encountered something. Someone suspiciously looking around the area then a massive explosion erupted. A few characters had jumped down from the top of a building, a few villains thought it was a good idea to cause a ruckus this early in the morning. You had quickly run to where the explosion had detonated but it had occurred to you that these villains were some you haven't seen before, or even seen any type of report, to begin with.

”Oh, a hero, ” One had spoken, their hooded face was still slightly visible but nothing that indicated who he was. It was hard to tell and even when their smile was visible to you at this distance. He had moved a few steps forward, slowly grabbing at his hood and showing his face. No matter how much you had prepared or not, regardless, the strike of pain you had felt in your chest was unbearable. You had no room to cry, no movement in your body that could get you out of this situation. Even if you wanted to, you are a hero, and you have sworn to protect the people of this city and any other person of this world, but how could you right now.

“Izu..” His face contorted in disgust, and it was notable now the scar he had on his cheek. Those things weren’t the only thing different from him, his clothing and the way his eyes had stared back at you, pain and sorrow, and even hate.

“It’s still funny to hear that name almost come out of your mouth... Y/n.” His eyes narrowed your direction, sending chills down your spine as he motioned his goons to split with just one hand motion. He got closer, his arms opening up as if he was lightly praying but he wasn’t looking up. He looked at you with a mischievous smile as if wondering. “Kaachan looked exactly like you.” A chuckle came out of his lips, but you refused to move, clearly out of fear. Reality had quickly set and you couldn’t turn anything back.

“Izuku... what happened,” You asked in a quivering tone and replied to you, not before he puffed in annoyance towards you.

“Can we please get rid of that name? It rings in my ears each time I hear it.” Now he was right in front of you and you quickly tried taking a step back but he caught your arms, gripping them lightly as he spun you in place. His hands had moved down to yours, intertwining with them and staring back with that same smile as before. “Don’t want you falling, do you?” His speaking patterns, his voice, his now sweet face had become distorted in your memories. It wasn’t him. Someone had to be messing with you. He couldn’t be standing here in front of you looking like he killed someone.

You quickly shook off his grip and he quickly let go. “What happened to you, Izuku!” He was becoming more unpleased with you. He. Had clearly told you to stop calling him Izuku. He didn’t want to be involved with his past anymore, especially the people who fooled him, thinking this world would be changed.

“I’ve told you not to call me by that name.”

“Then tell me what happened! Why are you here talking nonsense!? Your mom was so broken, worried for you, looking for you because she thought someone had kidnapped you. She started to blame herself for letting you go back to UA, and it hurt me too, Izuku! My best friend was suddenly gone after he told me to stay safe and what was I suppose to think then, huh?!” Your tears had begun to drip down, staining your cheeks and making the bags under your eyes, bright red. “Y-you couldn’t have become..” His straight face had given you the answer without really doing much aside from smile softly to your reaction of utter disbelief.

“It’s crazy how much time can really change someone, especially when that person was supposed to be the one you cared for.” You had widened your eyes slightly, looking confused.

“I had always cared-“

“As much as I want to continue the back and forth games, I have no time for you right now. I seriously did not have it in my plans to deal with another hero, and that includes my beloved, Y/n.” With one last villainous smile, he had quickly taken off, but you had started to run. You ran after him but you couldn’t catch up at all. He was faster than before, smarter, and calculative but it didn’t take away how much it broke you to see him like this. He was getting away again, your hand stretching out to reach him but as quickly as he came, he had disappeared. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but stop and cry.

-

“He was standing right in front of me, do you guys not understand?! He was so close that I could reach out and touch him!” You explained so frantically that Shouto was lightly putting his hands in front of him to calm you down but he couldn’t even get near you. You would pull away, walk around as if desperate. You were desperate but the thoughts ran through your body as if it was waiting to explode. You were scared and in pain. Katsuki had been staring back at you, silently trying to figure out what to do to help you. Was there really anything to help you at this moment?

"Y/n, please, take it easy. Worrying won't do anything good for you," Shouto had told you but you just threw your hand through your hair, inhaling and letting it out in a long breath.

"What can I do aside from worry?" You asked him, your eyes were looking down at the floor, the red carpet of Endeavor's office, somehow reflecting the color of Izuku's eyes even if it was his usual green eyes that stared back at you. No matter how painful it felt to remember, you couldn't forget. He needs help and you were determined to do something about it.

No one had responded to your previous question, lingering in the air as you began to walk out of the room. "Are you really planning to go out there looking for him?" Katsuki's question did make you look back, the seriousness in your eyes telling everything he needed to know. "Then, for once, let us help you."

"Thank you, Katsuki." His hum was light as he responded but he quickly took action, ordering Shouto to call his father and some of the pro heroes to help in search of the kid. Almight also deserved to know, is what Katsuki had said to you before walking off in opposite directions to hunt down the green hair boi, not knowing that he had completely disappeared again. So many hours had passed and no sign of him. He knew that you would come looking for him again. He knew you and he knew he was that important to you because he has known you for many years. You never failed to tell him how important he was, and that included his saddest moments.

Y/N: "Have you seen any trace of any villains? I haven't been able to find any activity regarding disturbances."

Bakugou: "Where ever that fucker hid, he must have pulled back the villains too. He seems to be operating a small group of people."

Shouto: "How about the outside area?"

Iida: "Nothing out here that I can report. I have been running around the areas where villains are most likely to appear for good measure but it seems like they had retreated here too."

Even with bigger cover of the city, using radios to contact each other, no one was able to find him. How the hell was he able to hide so effectively when someone should have found them at this point? You bit your lip out of frustration, not realizing that your lip began to bleed from the nerves building inside you.

The only way you will be able to find him would be to think like Izuku. He is a smart kid, tactful, and very quick to react. If anything, he must have pulled back when he saw you. It would mean he had ample time to hide the people who are working for him.

You had enough after hours of searching, taking breaks, and asking for help, you decided to call it day and search again tomorrow. It was almost 11 and you had passed your working hours today so you went back to the agency to report back all that had happened today. Everyone else did the same, exhausted from the amount of walking and ground covered.

"Are you sure you'll be okay, Y/n?" Todoroki had asked you before you had left. You assured him that you were, confident enough that you will be able to see him, or at least, find him again in no time. Todoroki had given you a really odd expression but you had brushed it off and said your goodbyes.

You were finally home, your feet sore and your head full of mush from thinking and worrying for Izuku. No matter how much time had passed, you couldn't shake off the thought of seeing Izuku back to the way he was. He was gentle, weird, so out there, but just shy and had the issue of shuttering a lot. He was so strong and you had no idea how much you had admired your friend up until now. A smile spread across your face, the now distant memories fading away as you walked into your room and into the bathroom to shower before heading to bed. You dried your hair, sighing loudly and throwing yourself onto the bed to finally relax before having to search again for your friend.

You had realized something though. It was a bit odd to have come into your house with it being clean and your bed made when you hadn't had the time to do so. The covers were up to your neck as you wiggled a bit in place and realized...

Someone had been there.

Someone was in here in your home, unless they had left once you had entered the house, and you were too afraid to even look around the room. You had felt someone here. If you pretended to go to sleep, maybe you can catch them by surprise and take them down. But your heart was racing. You were afraid of who it was, and something told you it was him. It had to be.

"Don't sleep on me just yet, Y/n-chan~" Your body had begun to shake, flinching almost, as your now trembling hands lifted you up slowly, trying to keep yourself composed. Your eyes trailed to him with his eyes looking straight into yours as if he has been analyzing you. They moved around, landing on what seems to be a bat right next to your bed. Depending on the quirk of the person, sometimes you couldn’t protect yourself and you were one of them. Your quirk was more from “the shadows” type of deal and it made it hard to use it in front of other people for training, or even villains without a proper distance. But Izuku was the one in front of you and you couldn’t help but feel fear, and no matter what, you couldn’t stop seeing him as your old friend.

His walk becoming more confident as he came to you, his now then messy hair looking bizarre. His hand-covered glove touching your cheek as he sat down next to you on the bed but his eyes didn’t look at you anymore. He made sure they were looking at your hands and not letting them move anywhere near a potential weapon. He held your hands in his, squeezing them lightly and smiling softly.

“I can not get over how beautiful you still are, Y/n-chan.” He complimented you, his grip tightening and his smile becoming sickening, painful to even look at. His ears are sharper now, and his eyes were still reflecting evil intent. You sat there in fear as he got up again, taking the bat into his hands and tossed it aside. “It's better to keep distractions at a distance, no?”

Panic set in. Your hands shook, your eyes looked around for a place to escape, but he knew your every move. You tried getting out of bed but he put his hands on your shoulders, sitting you back down with the same smile from before. "Hey, it's almost your bedtime, how about we talk a little before then?"

You instinctively shook your head and his expression changed. It looked in pain but he made sure to change it quickly. "I thought after all these years you would have loved to hear about me?"

"No. N-no! I did! I do!"

"Then, let's talk." It fell silent, his eyes tracing the features on your face as yours looked down at your hands, fidgeting them around, but as you thought more to yourself, you realized he shouldn't be here.

"You wanted to talk to me... didn't you, Izuku?" Your question came out as a soft whisper. He didn't acknowledge it so you continued. "I've missed you. Where did you go?"

He was silent for a while. Somehow, his old self was now visible to you, his eyes softening and his hands grabbing yours again, this time with gentleness. "I came to see you, multiple times. After all, you were the only one who really cared for me."

"But why. Why are you with the villains? We could have helped you, or-"

"NO!" You flinched to his sudden outburst and he quickly composed himself. "I-i... I don't want your pity."

"Well, I wanna-"

"Y/n?" Someone yelled out your name, knocking on the door of your house, echoing from the silence between you and Izuku. He looked angry, irritated that he got up and walked to your window. He swiftly opened it and without another glance or stare, he jumped out quickly, with no chance to even say his name. You had gotten up to see the outside of your window empty. He was quick, you knew that, but he disappeared faster than a shadow. You were just getting comfortable and now, he is gone again, and who knows if you'll ever see him again.

"Hey, I was knocking a few times, I'm sorry I woke you up, but it's an emergency." It was Kirishima who was alone but he was suited up for some reason, making you wonder that the reason he came over was to inform you about Izuku.

"No, it's fine. I was just getting to bed. What is that you needed?" You weren't positive if it was a good idea to say anything about your old friend coming into your room late at night, or if you should keep it to yourself. It's not like it wasn't important information but you were scared that they will catch him. You started to worry about his safety when you, in reality, probably shouldn't.

"We have spotted some villains wondering the streets down your street and we assumed Izuku had been close. Have you heard anything?"

Maybe you should say something now. You mustered up the courage to say yes. You didn't explain why he was here, but you told him that as soon as he had knocked on the door, he had disappeared. He will tell the others but you didn't care because to you, it's the way to help your friend. Talking to him today showed you he was there, still the same Izuku. You wanted him back.

You lost him before, you're not planning to lose him again. After all, you loved him too much to let him go.

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

P S Y C H (ch.4)

We’re getting to the good parts my beloveds. Enjoyyy

Previous // Next

“UA is known for its ‘freestyle’ education system.” Aizawa began “That applies to us teachers too. Soft ball throwing, the standing long jump, the 50 meter dash, endurance running, grip strength, side-to-side stepping. Upper body training. This country still insists on prohibiting quirks when calculating the averages of those records. It’s not rational.

The class stood in shocked silence. [Name] who had read Aizawa’s mind before he began his rant, started sweating anxiously. He had a massively powerful quirk but still lacked confidence in himself. He could not just decide to show off for the class and unlock the full capabilities of his quirk. He was someone motivated by spite and emotions. And it could’ve been his proximity to the successor of OFA but the only emotion he felt in the moment was anxiety. 

[Name] had gone so far off the deep end getting lost in his own thoughts that the sound of Aizawa calling his name made him realize he had zoned out for what felt like a few minutes and hadn’t had enough time to talk himself out of the corner he’d been backed into. “[L.Name]. How far could you throw in middle school?”

“50 meters I think”

“Great. Now try it with your quirk. Do whatever you need to. Just don’t leave the circle. Give it all you’ve got”

‘HA! I could throw 67 meters in middle school. This shitty extra only beat me on the practical exam because he focused on saving the other extras while I took down villains. His achievements don’t matter.’

[Name]’ eyes glowed gold immediately grabbing the attention of a few of his classmates, especially a certain blond and green haired duo. [name] began tossing the ball up in the air and catching it, wondering if he was gonna just levitate the ball from a standing position. It would be an awesome feat to just make it seem like the ball was doing the work. But then he decided he was gonna keep his classmates on their toes. He widened his stance, left foot in front of the right kind of like a baseball player up to bat, took a deep breath and lightly flicked his wrist. 

“It’s important for us to know our limits.” Aizawa said as he turned the device he was holding up for the class to see ‘That’s the first rational step to figuring out what kind of heroes you’ll be”

“Wow this is awesome” “800 METERS???” “He flicked his wrist like he was skipping rocks!!??” 

[Name] took pleasure in his classmates' shock. He could of course feel insulted at the implication he would be weak and useless. But their awe not only stroked his ego but eased his anxiety of constantly being one step behind everyone else. He had huge shoes to fill, being one of God’s chosen. 

“Awesome.. You say? You’re hoping to become heroes after three years??! And you think it’ll be all fun and games?”

A pin dropped.

“Right. The one with the lowest score across all eight events will be judged HOPELESS and will be expelled.”

‘Aizawa uh…’ 

“Where the fuck is that voice coming from” [Name] whispered to himself as he whipped around

“Your fates are in our hands” the homeroom teacher continued with a manic look on his face “Welcome. This is… The Hero Course at U.A High!”

‘I’m a little scared’ [Name] thought ‘But loving the drama’

“The lowest score will be expelled,” a student said “It’s only the first day! I mean even if it weren’t that’s totally unfair!!”

“Natural disasters… Highway pileups, rampaging villains, calamity is always right around the corner. I’d say Japan is full of unfair things. Heroes are the ones who correct all that unfairness. If you were hoping to spend your evenings hanging out at McDonald’s... I'm Sorry to tell you that for the next three years U.A will run you through the ringer”

“I think he reached his word limit for today”

“That’s plus Ultra. Use your strength to overcome it all. So bring it”

“Nope I was wrong he’s still going.”

[Name] did not feel motivated by Aizawa’s speech. He knew there was no way with the way his class reacted to his softball pitch that he would be in last place, so he wasn’t exactly worried about being expelled, but instead he was trying to think of a way to avoid doing too much exercise. Fear of failure vs a deep hate of exercise round one was about to begin. THe exercise? Running.

When it was his turn [Name] made his eyes glow as he focused his telekinesis in his feet, making them lighter just as he picked his feet up. Sort of like another girl in his class. People can call him a copycat all they want but he considered learning from others’ failures and successes a necessary skill for all heroes in training. 

He pretty much did the same thing for all the tests, using his kinetic blasts for more force when necessary like the standing long jump. The slide stepping event was in his opinion lame and unnecessary so he actually got a pretty average score for that one. His grip without using his quirk was 60kg but when using his quirk he crushed the device easily.

When it came time to the throwing event [Name] paid close attention to his classmates. He was the one to beat and so, he felt less like some creep and more like… an opponent scouting out the competition. There were three people he decided were dangerous should they develop their quirks more aggressively. The ash blond who (bakugou he reminded his inner monologue) who scored 705.2 using his explosion quirk, the cute brunette with the gravity quirk and the man of the hour, Izuku Midoriya.

When Midoriya first threw the ball he scored a measly 46 meters and froze in shock. Apparently that’s when he realized who exactly their homeroom teacher was. [Name] might’ve done a little… digging but it still isn’t like he knew who “The Erasure Hero: Eraser Head” was. Said underground hero seemed in [Name]’s terms “smart enough” and immediately made a connection between Midoriya and All Might but failed to grasp just how deep the connection grew. Through a little tough love Aizawa had the OFA successor draw out the limits of his quirk without serious injury, shocking everyone, including All Might and Aizawa himself. 

“!!!”

“Oh no please no fighting someone please stop this” [name] sarcastically drawled as Bakugou launched himself at Midoriya.”What the hell? Explain yourself DEKU!”

“Wahh”

‘?’

[Name]’s fun was spoiled as Aizawa quickly restrained Bakugou. “What is this??” “It’s a capture weapon made of carbon fibers and a special alloy wire. Stop using your quirk already.. I’m getting dry eye over here”

“Okay I think I like this teacher” [Name] though aloud

“Shota Aizawa!”

‘A voiceover???’

“He can nullify the quirk of anyone he looks at! But the effect wears off if he blinks” 

“What a waste of time” Aizawa continued “Prepare for the next event.”

When the events were over everyone gathered to see their ranking. [Name] tried to subtly wipe his sweat in order to keep up the air of his achievements being effortless. Unfortunately he was also mouth breathing so sweat or no sweat everyone knew he was at least a little winded.

“Moving along. Time for the results. Our total scores simply reflect your performance in each of the events. Explaining the process would be a waste of time, so all you get are the final rankings”

‘He’s totally gonna be my favorite teacher. If anything bad happens to him I will kill everyone and then myself’[Name] thought to himself a little too honestly

“Also I was lying about expelling someone”

“?????”

“That was a rational deception meant to bring out the best in all of you”

“Well of course it was a lie” Ponytail said confidently “Didn’t take much to figure that out”

Aizawa, who didn’t want to admit that it wasn’t a TOTAL lie, just excused himself and gave Midoriya a pass to the nurse to heal his finger. [Name] unconcerned for the green haired boy went to take a look at his ranking to find out he was once again first among the students who took the general admittance exams and third out of the total class

‘It was totally the sidestep thing wasn’t it’ he thought to himself before trailing after Aizawa to ask him an important question. He noticed All Might and Aizawa talking and stayed a couple steps behind knowing that he could stay out of sight, keep an eye on Aizawa and eavesdrop using his telepathy. Once they were finished [Name] appeared behind Aizawa and gave All might a polite greeting, shocking the two pros

“[L.Name] go home”

“Just a moment sir I had a question for you. The telepath said before looking at All Might. The giant hero didn’t get the memo “Privately”

“Ah! Yes. I must be on my way. Good day Aizawa! [L.Name]-kun”

“What is it?”

“I noticed that some teachers had… favorites”

“And you think you’re mine?”

“No but I think you’ll be my favorite so I was hoping to get a little ahead of the curve. I was wondering if you could teach me some hand to hand that I could incorporate into my quirk”

“Incorporate?”

“I’m telekinetic amongst other things and I can’t just rely on throwing random objects at an opponent, so I want to reinforce my blows with kinetic energy, that way they pack a bigger punch”

“...I’ll let you know [L.Name]. Go home”

“Thank you sir”

“Yeah”

[ambitionsource]

i watch a lot of avatar the last bender and i gonna ask the question. which of the a class is a bender (water, earth, fire, and air) or a non bender? who do you think would be the avatar?

given that she has an atla url, you can imagine es was very excited to answer this question LOL. we decided we’d approach this from like the standpoint of if bending existed, but in the current setting and world as we know it (so not quite fixed in the atla world or lore). i made visual aids to go with it because i’m a visual person, but i’ll talk a bit through our thinking for each type!

water felt so obvious for riley she was one of the first people we decided on. she definitely has that katara-like energy for a waterbender where she’s gentle and practiced and quite fluid with her motions and her emotions, but she’ll also flip on a dime in an instant and kick your ass with water if you hurt anyone she cares about (which brings us to a necessary thought -- missy vs riley epic bending battle like katara v azula energy? would love to see it). for chai, we decided she would be water because it’s interesting to have a diva type who falls in a category that is represented by folks who aren’t at all divas, so it just adds an interesting variety to things. she’s also the direct opposite to maya as a rival in that sense (who we’ll come back to).

for charlie, both he and zay we thought a lot about how the movements of bending could be tied to dance and where their strengths lie. esther said that the fluid movement of water bending reminded her a lot of ballet / lyrical, and that made sense to me. it also ties together the similarities between riley and charlie in terms of their personalities, but i think where they differ is charlie would be someone who struggles a lot with his bending. i think you have to have a big sense of inner self and balance to bend proficiently, and as we know, charlie never feels on balance. i think he’d be victim to more overwhelming moments of bending when his emotions feel out of control, and for that reason he’d try really hard to avoid using it whenever possible. esther also pointed out the cool idea of he inherited a bit of this as well -- if the gardners are all water benders, but eleanor is very strict about them only using it for healing properties and Nothing Else, that kind of belief can constrict charlie’s ability as well and contribute to his fears. and perhaps the reason bridgette was exiled also has to do with her wanting to explore bending in a more well-rounded sense, so then she could be a mentor to charlie later... truly much to think about.

(also, again, i say... can we imagine the epic bending battle that could exist between brandon, charlie, and zay? charlie who is always underestimated and brushed aside and doesnt feel in control of his own power stepping up when zay starts to lose the upper hand in a bending face off and thus charlie comes into his own and jumps into to take on brandon too and its like yeah YOU THOUGHT HE WASN’T GONNA DO NOTHING. BUT THEN LOOK AT HIM GO. LOOK AT CHARLIE AND ZAY TAG TEAM. EXACTLy).

continuing under a read more because there’s evidently lots to say!

earth happened to be a crowded category for us though why i don’t know. i jokingly said that dave would be like the boulder but also he like... is basically a human brick, so it makes sense he’d have some earth roots. but i think dave uses his bending in a more silly / lowkey way, and has no ambitions to try and master it. he also is part of the quartet of bending in the techie boys that makes up the full element list (dave, nate, dylan, and jeff), which is kinda cool. zay we went with earth for because unlike charlie, the most key trait to his dance (and bending) is how firmly rooted and grounded he is -- he has faith in his own abilities, he’s balanced, one could even say he’s stubborn in how he sticks his ground. but this parallels well to dance as well where you need to have faith in even footing and knowing you’re going to land the right way and in the right position. esther also suggested that he would be one of the few who can lava bend, which kind of makes him this interesting near-intersection of earth and fire which i thought was super cool.

for isadora, we agreed she would be of the metal bending camp (and perhaps, in this world, is even the innovator of it) and is always trying to experiment with her earth-bending. we know she’s stubborn as hell and very firmly planted in her stances and opinions, but i think where she trips up is in the moments where she does feel unsure or kind of loses her footing (like with val or knowing how she wants to be perceived over s2), her bending no longer comes naturally and she almost loses it in those moments. so like over s3, in theory, as she’s grappling with grief you’d see her have to struggle to even get the basic bending capability back in decent shape as she’s also recovering emotionally. then for eric and harper, both of them to me have very stable, grounded energies, and i think they act acutely as mentors to isa and zay respectively.

most of these feel obvious, but maya is probably the most self-explanatory bender you can get here. she is like azula in a nutshell in terms of being showy, hot-headed, calculating, arrogant, etc... though she admittedly has more heart than azula. which is saying something. we thought of maya and asher as honestly sort of antithetical to one another, as asher on the flip side is terrified of his bending ability and thusly is almost a non-bender in that he never uses it. it flares up sometimes when his anxiety gets bad and so he freaks and tries to stifle it (almost like elsa with ice but. reverse lmao), and i also think there’s something really cool in the way of like... how breath is tied to bending (especially fire) but also tied to calming panic so there’s... something there. a thread to pull at. but essentially its kind of like zuko v azula where like if asher believed in himself and stepped up to his full potential he could 100% take on maya, but it’s his own insecurity, fear, and self-doubt that holds him back and keeps him all wrapped up. also, yindra v maya fiery bend-off when?

all four of these kiddos have air bender energy to me, but in different ways and for different reasons that i can’t even necessarily articulate. haley i think is very dreamy and somewhat flighty and so wouldn’t be very good with her bending abilities. yogi just has the like... air trickster energy. then you have nigel and dylan, who are kind of like polar opposite air benders. dylan is definitely in the class of aang where it’s like silly tricks, aid in helping him leap and flip and soar around, constantly showing off that marble party trick, goofing off with the other techie boyz and trying to teach them how to do air games, etc. it’s to the point where jade (a non-bender) is like air benders must be the most annoying type on earth do they ever RELAX? impossible to work with... and then she meets nigel, also an air bender, who is like the antithesis to that in that he’s calm, thoughtful, peace-making, almost overly cautious (in that same way aang is where indecision can be your greatest enemy) and jade is like... now that. that’s what i’m talking about.

back around to dylan, though, this brings us to our assertion that dylan would be the avatar. this is something we actually mused on ages ago together when doing atla rewatch (for maggie) / watches (for es), and he just has the perfect energy for it. he’s someone who brings people together, he’s a unifier and peacemaker, he has so much intrinsic hope and optimism... but he also can be too silly and naive and would have struggles here and there trying to learn different elements (both focus wise and generally). but he basically has a team avatar built in his usual core group, with riley (water), isa (earth), and asher (fire), not to mention his techie buddies who add to that.

i was also very excited about the thematic element of dylan being air and asher being fire, because what does fire need to survive? air. yeah, it’s poecy.

and there’s something interesting there too of like... you know, the reason aang didn’t want to learn fire bending anymore was after he accidentally burned katara, and i think that sort of thing is what asher is most afraid of -- especially if dylan eventually comes to him and claims he would be the perfect teacher to teach him fire bending which will be the hardest element for him to master. it’s like, if you’re already scared of your own ability to cause damage, how do you possibly risk that even slightly to try and pass it onto your most treasured loved one? you know? there’s just so much interesting fodder there.

anyone who has known me for a while should find lucas being a non-bender exactly 0% surprising. when it comes to magical or mystical concepts like this i nearly always give lucas the normie everyman role, because i feel like it is just so quintessential to his essence. even in aaa, actually, he kind of represents this role being the “untalented,” average person stuck at the performing arts school with people who are supremely talented. so you see the blueprint. he kind of makes up the sokka angle of the dylan-team-avatar arrangement, and he also falls under the guidance of jack who is a non-bender in the vein of that expert swordsman that sokka trains under. they have that kind of dynamic and energy to me (which brings us to our third point: jack v yancy epic battle with swords when?) i think there’s also something interesting to lucas and asher’s friendship if part of the reason they’re close is because asher stifles his own abilities so much to basically be on the same playing field as lucas, which makes him feel less alone... so how does that change if he does start exploring his bending in the effort to help dylan... much to think about.

jade, as previously mentioned, is just a very Tired non-bender being surrounded by her loud bender boys. darby and sarah, as non-benders, reinforce their theoretical subordination to the likes of maya and chai (though i support darby fighting back if she could just wile up the courage...) then we have farkle, who is in a very interesting place as a non-bender trying to elbow his way to the front of the pack amongst the likes of maya and zay. i think this inferiority complex would contribute to... you know, everything about him (especially s1) and would be exacerbated even further by the idea of him REALLY being the black sheep of his family if he’s the only non-bender in a family full of practiced and prestigious fire benders. we also felt like farkle would definitely be someone who dabbles and experiments in technology around bending, trying to replicate the thing he just doesn’t have.

-- Maggie & Es

[lovehugsandcandy]

One-on-One: Decisions (Colt x MC)

A/N:  Third one-shot for basketball!Colt. I have two more planned after this.

Pairing: Colt x MC, ROD

Length: ~1,500 words

Rating: R? (Swearing. One suggestive line. Idiots.)

Summary: Colt should never talk to the media...but Ellie will allow it this one time.

Ellie set up the media alert fairly early in their relationship; it allowed her to catch threatening situations before they boiled over into irrecoverable issues that inevitably would involve her bailing out her idiot boyfriend-yet again.

It allowed her to call him right after he lost his first game this season, interrupting the complete destruction of a locker room that could have resulted in a suspension. It was the reason she sped north, weaving frantically through rush hour traffic for hours, when a gruesome Achilles tear had prematurely aborted his senior year and he had to redshirt so he could actually play out his final season. It was the reason she convinced him he should never attend the post-game press conferences. Ever.

And it was now furiously dinging over.

She groaned and reached for the phone, eyes still closed, slapping the sheets once, twice, three times until she finally clasped her fingers around plastic. Her eyes fluttered open, bleary and slow, as she internally prepared herself for whatever foolish shit he had pulled.

However, before she pulled up the browser, her phone rang; it was her dad. She declined and tried to pull up the search engine when the phone rang again. Ingrid. She frowned and declined. When her dad called again, she raced to her computer, sinking suspicion that the plethora of alerts and multiple phone calls were no coincidence.

Where was he again? Texas.

She scanned the gossip rags, relieved to find nothing damaging, and then navigated to ESPNU. Oh Lord, a video. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to the media. 

She hit play.

“Your third Nationals Title is looking more and more like a lock. What are your plans for after graduation?”

Colt shrugged, looking directly at the camera, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I don’t know. Maybe the draft. My wife’s gonna go to Yale for grad school though so, no matter what, I’m gonna be in the Northeast.”

She blinked. It was overall a calculated move, signaling to anyone interested in drafting him that there were only a few pro teams he would consider. But she was more caught by the word choice. But did he just call her his...

The phone rang again, and this time she connected to her dad screeching over the phone line, “Did you get married?”

~~~~~~

She waited up for him. He usually crashed in the city once their plane landed, ditching the team bus to crash in her apartment before heading back upstate, and they would spend a few carefree days lounging at her apartment and strolling the city streets as if they weren’t facing impending graduations that would thrust them into a future they could never prepare for.

Sometimes, she would greet him with pizza and commiseration over a tough loss.

Other times, she would greet him with a shared bath, ostensibly drawn to ease sore muscles, but always ending with them both soaked and sated, huddled close under her covers, reconnecting in the most satisfying of ways.

This time, she perched on the sofa, toe ticking by the seconds, mentally mapping his route through airport corridors, then where the Dryve would crawl down crowded city streets, to where he would walk through the lobby, up the three flights of stairs, and turn the spare key in her lock. She seethed with every imagined step.

Finally, twenty-three minutes after landing, 1,387 furious taps of her toe against hardwood, jingling sounded outside her door and the knob turned, opening to reveal a broad-shouldered figure that she was going to murder.

“Hey!” He dropped his duffel bag on the floor, locking the door behind him. “You waited up?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

He froze, forward progress halting as his jaw dropped at the venom dripping from her words. “Uh… baby? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows climbed her forehead, and she stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong?!?!”

He blinked, mouth opening and closing, and she could practically see him reflecting on his day, the day prior, hell, the last week as he tried and failed to figure out why she was glaring daggers at him. “Uh… are you mad that I fouled out? Because, I mean, the game was over and there was forty seconds left in the quarter and-”

“No. Not that.”

“Uh…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Is it because I told Logan that if he sat next to me on the plane, I would cut his hair off in his sleep?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I had no idea you said that, but I appreciate you adding it to the list.”

“Ellie, just fucking tell me. I don’t know what the fuck you’re pissed off about.”

“Your interview.”

He blinked blankly down at her. “What interview?”

“After the game? About your plans once you graduate?”

“I thought those…” He paused, uncertain. “I thought those were our plans. Are… are they not?”

She winced at the stab of guilt; she did not mean to imply that they wouldn’t move in together after school. “Urgh, yes, they are but you… Colt, you called me your wife.”

“That’s what you’re pissed about? Seriously?”

“Yes! It’s not true and my phone has been literally ringing off the hook, and some ESPN talking head devoted ten minutes to it during one of their trashy shows and-”

“Elie, we’re basically-”

“We are not-”

“Babe, I just meant-”

“Don’t you babe me!” She stomped closer to glare up at him. “This is why Logan is the one who talks to the press.”

“What? Fuck him. And what was I supposed to say? She cornered me!”

“Oh, how about anything but that?”

“Come on, babe.”

“Don’t even.”

“Who cares what the hell they say on tv?”

“Colt…” she put a hand to her temple. “You created not only confusing press for you but also drama. For me! My dad is convinced we eloped.”

“Babe, it’s like wifey. Everyone knows I meant it like that, come on.”

“No, no one knew that.”

“Come on, wifey,” he pouted.

“Jesus Christ. Don’t you dare-”

“Wifey…” he complained while she bristled, traitorous lips twitching regardless of how hard she tried to fight the smile down.

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Oh, wifey. You-”

She groaned, jumping away to stalk into the kitchen, yelling “Oh my God!” Footsteps followed her and she spun, glaring. She tried to stay annoyed, she did, but he was fucking ridiculous, lips curved in an exaggerated frown and eyes brimming with mockery.

“Wifey....”

“I swear to God!”

His hands wrapped found her hipbones, pulling her close to kiss her neck before whispering in her ear, “Wiiiifeey.”

“Jesus!” She pushed him away, barely able to get the words out through hitching giggles. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me.” She couldn’t speak through her laughter, but she hoped the fond grin stretching over her face betrayed her thoughts. “How about wifey like marry me?”

She froze. “... What?”

“Marry me.” Time stopped and the air left Ellie’s lungs.

“This isn’t…”

“Ellie, marry me.” His eyes were intent on hers, and she had to lean against the counter to hold herself up.

“You…” she stuttered. “You asked me that before.”

That brought him up short. “I did?”

“Kinda.” Her shaking hands found the counter top behind her, and she held on for dear life. “When you got your concussion junior year against Hartfield.”

“When I was in the hospital for two days?!?”

“When you were bleeding out on the court.”

“Oh. The perfect time for major life decisions.” His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Well, what did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything! You passed out!”

His mouth dropped open. “You left me hanging?”

“What.”

“Seriously, you just ignored me, what the heck, El?” he jeered. “You can’t leave a man hanging like that!”

“What the-” She rolled her eyes. “Colt!”

“Well, what do you say now?”

“You don’t… you don’t have a ring.” His lips stretched into a self-satisfied smirk. “You have a ring.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the piece of jewelry and holding it out between two fingers. “What? You want me to do this right? Get down on one knee and all that?” She couldn’t even answer, eyes welling with tears; he rocked back on his heels. “Uh, Ellie? You gonna answer me?”

“You-” Her voice trailed off as the tears started falling, rivulets over her cheeks, her smile; she tried to blink them away, tried to speak, tried to do something, but she could only stand there, watching him gaze at her in absolute adoration. Finally, she gave up and just nodded, slowly at first, then frantic, giggling, leaping  into his arms, not even caring that she was crying all over his university tracksuit as he cradled her close.

When she finally thought she had control of her face, she glanced up and the smile on his face made her heart skip.

At least until he spoke. “I knew you would wanna lock this up.”

“Don’t make me immediately regret my decision.”

He pulled back to shoot her a cocky grin, eyes gleaming. “You’re not gonna.”

She only smiled back, thinking, No, I’m not gonna.

.

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Colt

ROD

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[queen-of-the-avengers]

Worth the Wait

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 2,494

Warnings: smut, begging kink, sexual frustrations, jealously

Summary: You and Bucky like each other but won’t do anything abut it until this night... this very hot and heavy night.

Squares Filled: begging for @mcukinkbingo​ // taking charge for my second card for @star-spangled-bingo​ // enemies to lovers for my second card for @avengersbingo​ // “kiss me” for my second card for @buckybarnesbingo​ // bite off more than you can chew for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo​

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

The party Tony threw is meant to be a distraction for you. He threw it because, well, it’s Tony and he really loves people telling him how awesome he is. For Natasha, this party means getting drunk and maybe bringing someone home if she gets lucky, and when has she ever not gotten lucky? For Steve, this party is a way for him to get to know other people and recounter what he lost. For Thor, this party is a way for him to show off just how strong he is, and how no one but him can pick up his special hammer (if you could pronounce it, you would). For you, it’s a distraction and nothing else. It’s a lame distraction, but you’re just trying to make it work.

All week you’ve been building up tension in the worst way possible. Physically, you’re fine, it’s emotionally that has you in a wreck. All week, you’ve been trying to ignore the one thought that has been filtering through your mind about a certain Avenger wandering the property.

Bucky fucking Barnes. That man is going to be the death of you.

It’s not what he does to you, it’s what he doesn’t do that ticks you off, and that is revealing his feelings for you. You know they’re there because you overheard him talking with Steve about you. To be fair, you have the exact same feelings and are doing nothing about it, but you know he’s close to his breaking point.

Most people think you and Bucky are enemies because every single conversation you have ends with one of both of you screaming at each other. For no goddamn reason, apparently. It’s just so infuriating when the man you want to the most behaves and acts the way he does without consequence. One man shouldn’t possess the power to look and act the way he does, yet, he’s doing it. Just thinking of his name is sinful enough, so saying it is even worse.

“Where’s Bucky?” Natasha asks you after her third drink of the night.

“Really? You’re asking me? How the hell should I know?”

“You’re the one who can’t stop eye-fucking him. Figured you knew where he might be,” she laughs.

“Yeah, well, I don’t. Why don’t you go hit on that man? He looks as if he doesn’t want to kill himself. Go make him want to,” you say.

“You’re mean,” she sticks her tongue out at you and leaves your side.

She knows you’re only teasing her, but she heads over to him anyway at the thought of bringing him back to her bed. Now that you’re alone, you sit on the barstool and watch the party liven up without you. Tony’s house is normally empty save for the few Avengers walking around, but this time, not an inch of floor isn’t uncovered by someone doing something they love while you’re just sitting at the bar like a fucking loner.

You should be up and mingling. You have nothing to be emotional about. Your life is going exactly the way it’s supposed to, and there isn’t a single thing out of place. So why do you feel like the smallest thing will piss you off? This is a party, and parties are meant to be filled with fun and excitement. However, your eyes just landed on the one guy who makes your blood boil. He’s with Steve right now, and he’s wearing the biggest smile on his face. Why should he smile like that when you’re over here with a scowl? He knows what he’s doing to you, and he has the audacity to act like he’s Mr. Innocent.

Fuck this, You’re going to have fun tonight. Jealousy and pent up frustration fuels your body right now, so you may not have the best intentions with what you’re about to do, but you can’t think of a better way to agitate Bucky even more. You could tell Bucky how you feel and just fuck, but messing with him is so much better. You kind of want to see what he will do when he breaks because you know it’s coming soon.

You down the rest of your drink to give you the courage you need and head over to the duo. Steve is the first to see you, and he tenses just a bit which gets Bucky's attention. The other man turns to face you, and he rolls his eyes lightly.

“No, I won’t dance with you,” Bucky assumes what you might have to say to either of them.

“Good because I didn’t come here to ask you,” you sneer and turn to the blonde man. “Steve, will you dance with me? I absolutely love this song.”

“Excuse me?”

“What?” Bucky says at the same time his best friend does.

“Please? It’s rude to turn a lady down.”

“You’re no lady,” Bucky mutters.

“Sure,” Steve says and you lead him to the dance floor.

“You’re treading into dangerous waters,” the super soldier shakes his head as a particular nasty song comes on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just want to dance with my friend,” you chuckle and turn so that your back is facing his front.

“Then why haven’t you taken your eyes off him since we left,” he chuckles.

Damn, you’ve been caught. Bucky’s eyes are full of fire, and you can’t help but grin at what might happen when that fire explodes into something uncontainable.

“What, I can’t look at him?” you ask as you move your hips sexily.

“You’re biting off more than you can chew. Bucky is not someone you want to make jealous.”

“I can fight my own battles, thank you very much. Now, let’s just see how jealous he can get.”

At the best part of the song that’s on, you start to slide down Steve’s body so that the back of your head is right next to his dick. You slowly start to stand up, but you keep your lower half bent until your ass presses into his growing cock. You feel bad for using him to get back at his friend, but what’s a girl gotta do?

Something seems to snap inside Bucky’s head because he’s storming over to you and Steve as soon as he sees you dance like that. He doesn’t say a word as he grabs your wrist and yanks you off his best friend. Steve can only shake his head, but he lets you go off with Bucky.

This is it. This is the part where you and Bucky go off to have secret hot sex that will leave you wanting more… or at least, that’s what you want to happen. Or maybe he’s here to cuss you out for corrupting his best friend. Bucky leads you into an empty bedroom on the other side of the goddamn tower, and you grin when he locks the door.

“What’s your problem, Barnes?”

“You! What the fuck was that?”

“I was just dancing with a friend,” you shrug.

“That was not dancing. That was seducing. I know what you’re doing,” he glares and takes a step toward you.

You take one back, and this little game is played until your back is pressed against the bedroom door. His face is so close to yours that you can smell the alcohol on his lips. His pupils are wide with desire, and you know you hold the key to lock his full potential.

“What am I doing? I was just dancing,” you whisper.

“You’re trying to make me jealous,” he accuses.

“As if I’d want that.”

“Your body betrays you. Your cheeks are flushed and your hands clenched from the temptation to grab at me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Kiss me,” you demand, but Bucky is way ahead of you.

He cuts you off before you can finish what you wanted to say. His lips push against yours feverishly, and his hands grab at your waist. You first your fingers into his hair and tug, and that seems to release the beast inside him. He pulls away from you and picks you up only slightly. He tosses you onto the bed only to put all his weight on you so that you can’t escape.

It’s not like you would if you could.

“If you want to act like a slut, then I’ll treat you like one. You want everyone to see you and hear what you have to say. Well, I say let’s give them a show.”

While keeping his weight on your body, he reaches down with his flesh hand and slides it into the front of your shorts. Your panties are already soaking, but that comes to no surprise as the man can make you wet just by a thought. He bypasses your throbbing clit and to your dripping center. He slides in two thick fingers, and you arch your back as much as you can.

“Fuck! Bucky!” you moan his name.

“Let me hear you purr,” he whispers into your ear.

His fingers cause a surge of pleasure to coarse through your veins, and he doesn’t even try to hide his satisfaction. He knows exactly what he’s doing, but it’s not like you mind. He shoves his fingers deeper and starts to scissor them to open you up further. He wants to make sure you’re nice and ready for his cock.

With his cold metal hand, he rips your shorts and panties in half but you're not even fazed by it. All you can focus on is his fingers and his hot breath on your neck. The tip of his metal finger grazes your clit, and you jump from the sudden change in temperature. He’s using his greatest loss to his greatest advantage.

Your entire center is hot and throbbing, but his hand is so cold and calculating. He presses your clit with his finger, and you all but jump away from him. He just chuckles and bites your neck to keep you where you are.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re not leaving here until you come all over my fingers. You want that? Huh? To come and watch me suck off everything you have to give to me? What if I made you suck them? Would that turn you on even more?”

Your response isn’t verbal at all. Instead, you squeeze his fingers tightly as if you don’t ever want him to leave the comfort of you. You tip your head back and let out a guttural moan at the thought of sucking your release off his fingers.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that. Now, why don’t you be a good girl and come,” he bites your neck once again after he finishes.

You can’t help but do as he says, and your release spills onto him. Some even drip out, but he’s got that covered. He slides down your body and replaces his fingers with his mouth, and you can feel another wave of pleasure surge through your body. He licks up every drop of your release until there is nothing left for you to give him.

“I knew you’d taste delicious,” he chuckles darkly.

He reaches up and shoves his two flesh fingers into your mouth, and you welcome them. Tasting your own orgasm off another man’s body part is something you will never not find sexy. You can only imagine what you’d taste like on his cock. Your eyes are trained on his until you pop his fingers out of your mouth.

“Do you like the taste of yourself?” You nod faintly. “No, use your big girl words. Do you like the taste of yourself?”

“Yes, sir,” you take a risk with the title.

You’re not sure what he likes and what he doesn’t, but judging the way his eyes dilate until his eyes are almost completely black, you know he likes it.

“Do you want me to take care of you? Hmm?”

“Please!” you beg.

You’re loving the way he’s taking charge and taking you the way he wants to. You’ll gladly let him use you however he wants to as long as you get his cock. He smirks and strips off the rest of your clothing before turning on himself.

You drink in his body the more it’s being revealed to you. You can’t believe you’ve been too stubborn to get with him until now. Just think of all the good times you two could have had. But then again. think of the good time you’re having right now.

His cock springs free as soon as it’s released from it’s denim prison, and your mouth physically waters. All you want is to have him rest against your tongue, but he has other plans.

“Get on your stomach. Ass up,” he demands.

Who are you to deny him? You roll over when he gives you the chance, and your ass automatically sticks into the air. His metal hand pushes your head down into the bed, and his flesh hand grips the base of his cock. He runs the tip through your folds twice before sinking himself into your warm center.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him bare. He can’t have children since he’s been sterilized, so you don’t have to worry about getting pregnant tonight. He pounds into you from behind with the only thing you can hear is his skin slapping against yours. The pressure builds up inside you with every thrust, and you know your second orgasm isn’t that far behind.

His sweaty chest presses against your back, and his hand comes around your front before settling on your bundle of nerves. He presses hard circles onto your clit, and that combining with the pleasure coming from his cock is too overwhelming. Your walls clench around his cock tightly, which gives him the sign you’re close.

“Come, baby girl,” he growls.

You listen, and you release all over him. He shoots his load into you, and you milk him for everything he’s worth. Your body is sweaty, your pussy throbs, and your mind is tired. The build up of frustration is so worth the wait. It wouldn’t have been like this if you hadn’t.

He pulls out of you and watches his come drop down your thighs. He wants to shower with you later, but he needs to catch his breath right now. He falls next to you as you roll onto your back.

“You know I don’t like Steve right? I did that just to get back at you.”

“Get back at me? For what?”

“For not telling me that you have a thing for me. I know you do. I heard you tell Steve.”

“Why didn’t you come to me then?”

“Making you jealous has its payoffs. This was fun,” you laugh.

“Well, from now on, I’m the only one you dance like that for.”

“Deal,” you grin.

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[cosmiclatte28]

Eunoia (Schoolboy! Taeyong  x reader)

A story I worked on Summer and just had the time to finish up! 

warning some cheesy fluff moments... lacrosse training... 

Anyways enjoy this boarding school au! Taeyong x reader .. with bestie!Jaehyun and Doyoung and a sport leader Yuta plus MARK JUNGWOO! 

ENJOY! !!!

Eunoia - beautiful mind 

You run through the big hallway of Neo Culture Institute. You’re late for your Lacrosse training and that’s because your Chemistry teacher held you back after class to get explanation about your burned work.

You know how pissed Nakamoto Yuta will be to find you late again. He’s a strict leader.

Welcome to Neo Culture Institute, a school for the selected ones only. That explains the moderate numbers of pupil in one year. Now this prominent school is turning 80, pupil whose parents were graduates from this school will of course study here : the cycle goes on. The school’s known for a lot of things one of which is the Mix gender Lacrosse team. Yes a mix gender match. The rules are alternated and modified as years passed by. Neo Culture obligates their pupil to live in the school’s dormitory so they will set off as a prepared adult later on. The dormitory is divided to four towers: the North, East, South, and West tower. Each tower holds separated rooms for male and female students from different years. The tower consists of rooms and each year has their own big comfortable common room.

You finally make it to your tower, the North tower. You quickly take the stairs to your bedroom in the second floor and change your school uniform to your training attire. You grab your lacrosse stick, goggles, and mouth gear. You leave the room just to bump over a boy with heavy books falling over to the floor.

“Sorry… I was in a rush and I did not see you,” you bend to take the books and hand it into him then run for your life to the court, until you saw the lucky man you bumped was.

You got tongue tied. The guy clearly doesn’t look slightly happy. You know you screw up twice (coming late to training and this), now he won’t like you at all.

He’s no other than Lee Taeyong, a guy from the same year as yours. He’s also a North Tower pupil. He’s the quiet and smart type of man; however, He has friends here and there because of his kindness and intelligent plus handsome look. You can’t deny the one sided love you’re feeling on him. And now you just made a bad impression on your crush. In that silent moment, he speaks up.

“(Y/n) right? It’s okay… I wasn’t looking on my way too.” He shifts his book from one hand to another and pushes his glasses up.

“I’m at fault for running without looking where I head.” you squeeze your racket, heck it’s okay if Yuta will piss off for you being so late… you get a chance to talk with your crush after two years of seeing him from afar!

“Wait.. you know my name?” the realization hits you late and your cheeks are burning.

You see him struggles with his heavy books again, “Want me to help?” you take half of his books without his approval.

“Ah you don’t have to… I’m heading to the common room.” He starts his walk and you turn your body to follow his steps.

The two of you made it to the common room. You put down all of his books to the small table and silence fell until Taeyong realizes the attire and gears you’re wearing.

“Where are you heading?” he asks when he discovers the lack of formal uniform in your body.

“Lacrosse training,” you shrug your shoulder.

“Right…” he goes red; everyone can clearly guess that by the appearance and stick.

“Why don’t you see me train?” you suddenly blurt out those words. Surprised by your own mouth, you don’t want Taeyong to misunderstand you as being inconsiderate for breaking his busy schedule. He looks like he’s ready to bury his head into those thick books. You can see he’s a little bit annoyed by whatever is running in his head, and you thought breathing some fresh air can help him relax.

“I—” Taeyong was cut off by you “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you studying! Well I’ll go first, I’m late.” You turn around in a dash of an eye and run with all your might to the green fields.

Taeyong stays back in the common room, stunned and petrified by what just happened.

Meanwhile Yuta really looked pissed when you come fifteen minutes late.

“You know we’re having a match this weekend with the West Tower right? Their new goalie- Winwin is —”

You nod your head and snapped “Get the ball ready.” You put on your mouth piece, showing him you’re not in the mood for  a long debate.

You’ve had enough embarrassment from saying the wrong thing to your crush, and now your team captain isn’t much of a help. You are close to hitting him, luckily your best friend, Jaehyun comes to safe the moment.

“Now I’m sure she has her reason for coming late. She’s right, why don’t we start the practice today since our goalie is here already.” Jaehyun pats both shoulder and the team practice begins.

You’re not on your mood to play nor focus on the game. Your mind is still taunting you over Taeyong’s surprised face when you asked him to see you. Hell why would he see you play? You’re nobody to him. He’s clearly busy and yet your mouth blurted a really silly question. You just saw his stressed face and thought maybe a fresh air will do him some good. But apparently Taeyong won’t think like that.

You end the training with three goals, that’s not much as usually you score five or six. Your mood is totally ruined and you decided to end the practice scornfully.

Yuta doesn’t bug on you. He needs to rush to his Literature class; he’s a fourth year student: being late is considered rude and bad. You sit back on the bleachers with Jaehyun who clearly senses something’s not right.

“What is bothering you?” He throws the bait and with much nagging Jaehyun makes you finally spill everything out.

“He’ll see me as a fool now. What should I do?!!” You hit your best friend out of frustration.

Jaehyun laughs and taps your shoulder, “At least you made a new step,” he points to a man sitting alone on the opposite bleachers and when you look into his way, your mouth hangs open seeing Taeyong waves at you.

You eagerly wave your hand and take quick steps to Taeyong.

“I think you’d like to have a shower first from that sweaty jersey.” Jaehyun whispers.

Right, I should at least smell good.

You shower and change in the provided room and Taeyong is waiting for you outside. He left his glasses; which allows you to see his twinkling eyes better.

“You came! I.. I thought you’re busy.” You stutter out of surprise and delight.

He laughs and you swear that’s the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard.

“I was about to say I’ll come see your practice after I finish my work… but you left me before I got the chance to speak,” Taeyong smiles.

“Right, I thought you look so wrecked and a bit of fresh air might help.” You offer him your genuine smile.

“It’s a nice shoot. You’re our best goalie.” He hides his hands into his pockets and glances over to the big field.

“Well… the West Tower has a new goalie. Heard he’s the best West Tower ever had.” You slump your shoulder suddenly unconfident with your abilities.

Taeyong looks into you, “But you’re our best player. I’m sure you’re a better goalie than him.”

You turn red and realize he just complemented you. It’s only you and Taeyong. A stroll without third party!

After all, lacrosse practice wasn’t that bad. Come to think of it, a night stroll with Taeyong after a lacrosse practice, what else can you wish?!

“With your abilities, any tower won’t stand a chance.” Taeyong walks beside you.

“You’re flattering me too much there,” You chuckle at his words.

“No really, do you think I ever forgot our first lacrosse game? It was a mandatory for all of us to try and find our suitable sport.” Taeyong drives back to memory lane.

Well on our first day of choosing sports, the whole students were tested on different sports. Taeyong happened to be trying the lacrosse with you, everything started well until a quick ball almost knocked Taeyong off to the ground. He never played lacrosse before, while you… you’ve played basic games. Since you were standing close enough to him, you quickly defend him from the ball and you’ve calculated that both of you will fall: he probably from the shock, and you from the jump. You ended up listening to an hour lecture from your coach, but because of that you were scouted as the North Tower’s lacrosse team. Taeyong was really grateful and to thank you, he brought you a box of chocolates and since that day you’ve always love that certain chocolate brand. The choco pie.

“I never forget the person who saved me from falling ungraciously to the ground! Ever since that day I’ve never hold the stick again!” Taeyong dramatically said.

Your brain is malfunctioning. Lee Taeyong, the man you secretly crush, still remembers you. Well he has a lot of friends, he aces all of his tests, teachers all love him, and he has your name kept nicely in the midst of all those important things.

“And thanks to that incident, I found my talent.” You feel butterflies are flying in your stomach.

“Right, you’re really talented!” he praises you once more.

“It’s just lacrosse though,” you said embarrassedly, “I wish I can do everything else perfectly. I failed my chemistry project; Mr. Yukhei really gave me an additional work to recover my burned solution. You can do all of them perfectly.”

“Nah, Mr. Yukhei is totally giving you a hard time. My friend, Mark, sets fire and he’s not given an additional work. Besides, Classes are easy since you just follow the text books.”

“My bad then, I can’t properly follow my books.” you playfully shrug your shoulder.

The dining hall is slowly filled by students chatting and savoring dinner. You reach the table now. You look down at the floor, wondering how to say goodbye and go sit with Jaehyun since Taeyong would likely go sit with his friends, when he speaks again.

“If you want I can help you finish your additional work.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes widening.

“N-No, that’s okay, y-you don’t have to do that, it’s my homework—”

“I don’t mind,” he says, shrugging. “Really, it’ll just be like practice for when it comes up in the exams. Besides, studying with a friend is always less boring, right?”

With a friend. Had he just called you his friend?

“But it’s not fair to you—”

 “Look, I’ll help you with your Chemistry works; you can help me with my literature. I’m also not good in literature.” Taeyong stares into your eyes.

“But I’m also not that good in literature…” your words trail off.

“That’s why we can improve together!” Taeyong happily brings a conclusion.

“Well, I’d never reject a help. So, see you after dinner?”

He nods and the two of you part ways. You sit with Jaehyun and Doyoung. Taeyong has gone to his other friends.

--

The two of you meet each other again in the common room after the dinner. The North common room is always the best. With the nice view of the school’s pool and sea, the students of the North Tower are always boasting about this.

You take your favorite spot in the corner and Taeyong seems to enjoy that same spot too. It’s near the edge and the peacefulness is wonderful there. The moon shines nicely through the big windows and the other students are also busy studying or writing letters.

Taeyong calmly explains you the process you failed to do in Mr. Yukhei’s class and the additional essay was done within a reasonable hours. The two of you have moved on from Chemistry to reading the book from your literature class. Clearly Taeyong is a faster reader than you are. You’re struggling with the confusing words unlike Taeyong who’s quickly absorbed to the conflicts. His nose sticks to the pages and you? You fell asleep ten pages into the story.

Taeyong yawns after finishing the first three chapters, his eyes are tired. He glances to your side wondering why it’s so silent. He shakes his head when he sees your eyes closed.

Gently Taeyong taps on your shoulder and you turn red.

“Think today’s a tough day for you. You’re tired from lacrosse I guess. Why don’t you go to bed? We can work on the literature tomorrow.” Taeyong cleans your papers and his belongings.

Work on literature tomorrow, did you just hear things? Does that means he’s offering you for studying together again tomorrow.

You yawn and stretch from the short sleep. “Right, I better move to my room. Well thanks Taeyong for helping me tonight.”

Taeyong hands you the papers and he stands from his chair. You leave the room.

“Good luck handing them to Mr. Yukhei tomorrow. See you!” Taeyong waves and the two of you part ways.

Well what a nice day and memory! A night stroll with Taeyong, a study date, and a hearty conversation with him.

You’ll see each other again in Chemistry class tomorrow and in the evening. You only share Literature, Music, and Chemistry with Taeyong, other than that it’s totally different from his.

__

 Your legs can’t stay still; if your mother is there she’ll most likely slap them for being so restless. You swear you can basically sew a pair of jeans with the constant leg movement on top of a sewing machine. Well, you’re nervous about meeting Taeyong. Usually you’re calm and reserved because you know even when you share the same class with Taeyong, he would not bother looking for you. Today is different though, you told Jaehyun and Doyoung about finishing your Chemistry essay with Taeyong and the two men seem to tease you more and more. They know about your crush on him, and they have been trying to set the two of you up for a date, but yes Taeyong is always preoccupied with his books. Your mind is drowned with his warm eyes and sweet smile. For a moment, the loud voice of your English teacher is muted and all you can hear and think is Taeyong. You’re sickly in love. This is not good for your sanity.

“Class is over now, please remember to submit your five pages essay tomorrow. You are dismissed.” Mr.Johnny’s clear voice brings you back to reality.

You snapped your neck to Doyoung who sits beside you, “What essay?”

Jaehyun laughs upon my question, Doyoung whilst cleaning his books replies, “The four pages essay about Taeyong my darling. You’re totally absorbed in your day dreaming that you did not hear the whole class scowls over the insane work.”

“Stop joking. I did not hear him, was thinking about lacrosse.” You lied.

“Huh- never knew Taeyong is the definition of lacrosse.” Jaehyun joins his friend mocking you.

“Fine, I can ask the others. You two have fun teasing me!” you pick your books quickly and stand away from your table.

“It’s about Rom-com TV shows. You need to make an argument on why it’s necessary or not. Don’t worry we can do it together tonight.” Jaehyun finally explains the real deal.

“Great, Mr. Johnny is a real pain in the ass. Did you forget we have training again today?” You asked Jaehyun upon hearing his calm demeanor.

“Of course I remember, it’s only an hour of practice before tea time. We can do the work after dinner.” Jaehyun takes over some of your book and helps you move class. Doyoung has bid his farewell on the junction, he’s attending Philosophy class and the two of you are taking Biology.

To tell you about Jaehyun, you two met at the first day of school: in the midst of the chaos of classifying students. You two saw each other when handing over your data and health certificate, then the matron said the two of you belong to the North Tower. Since you came alone to this school and Jaehyun was as confused as you were, the two of you exchanged names and shortly stuck together. You found him nice and easygoing; he too found it comfortable to befriend you. So your first friend in Neo Culture Institute was Jaehyun. It must be luck that both of you shared the same time table: the only class you were separated was only Geography. You both share the same struggle memorizing the big hallways and rooms, getting lost in the middle of moving to another class, and you both made it to the lacrosse team. Being in the same lacrosse team meant that you two even saw each other outside classes. You admit it was nice having one best friend, but you know you can’t only have one friend, that’s when the two of you met Doyoung in English class and received a group project together. Since then the two of you clicked with Doyoung and he jumped into your friendship circle. Three years of sitting with the same people and laughing over the same jokes, you did not realize that actually a lot of people are interested in knowing you.

“(y/n)? day dreaming again? We’ve arrived! Where are you going?” Jaehyun raises his volume, but still keeping it low.

“Ah! Yes, I forgot… I thought it’s the next class.” You are flustered. Well, your eyes are focus on someone entering the class beside yours: Further math. Taeyong is there walking while chatting with his genius friends Mark and Jungwoo.  

Jaehyun follows your gaze, but he fails to see anyone. “You’re seeing things? Come Bio class is here, that’s for further math and we know you’re not going to survive a second there.” Jaehyun reaches for your free hand and pulls you inside. He puts his books down on his table, and passes yours to the table beside his.

“It’s been six month since we use this room, how can you forget?” Jaehyun wonders and finds you still dozing off.

“I swear if this is what happens if you met Taeyong, I will not allow you to meet him again!” Jaehyun scoffs and slumps in his chair. There’s no point in talking to a love-struck statue.

“Jae, cut it off. I was only wondering if I can make it to the further math class.” You nonchalantly voice what’s in your mind.

Jaehyun slumps in his chair and decides to leave you be.

Meanwhile in further Math class.

Taeyong is trying hard to calm his hard beating heart. He saw her earlier, walking to the class next to his. Taeyong just realizes that (y/n) has always been taking that class, but he never saw her before. He felt his heart skipped a beat when he saw her figure walking down the hall. His heart then beats faster when he saw who was beside her; of course it was Jaehyun. The whole school knows that those two are inseparable. Taeyong shakes his head from his dream, and focuses back to the numbers on the board. He repeatedly told himself to get a hold and focus.

 __

You spend your afternoon in the field. While waiting for your team, you and Jaehyun decided to train some passing and scoring. The two of you are having fun with each other and the team begins to complete. Yuta takes the lead as the captain and not long after it you are running around the field, jumping, and catching balls. You perform nicely in today’s practice, well if it’s talent it won’t be that hard to keep a nice performance. The match with West Tower is coming in two days. Today may be your last practice, since it will be beneficial to take a rest one or two days before the match.

Taeyong did not appear on the audience bleachers at all, and you laugh at yourself why would he watch you practicing when he has more things to do and friends to hang out with. You take off your goggles and mouth gear. Your sweaty and messy body screams for shower, and so you shower. You are greeted with a fresh Jaehyun and the two of you walk your way back to the next class. Yes, you have one Music class to attend right before tea time. The two of you reunite with Doyoung and class begun. There is nothing remarkable or special, just that the three of you are the teacher’s favorite singer. Yes Jaehyun and Doyoung are talented and so are you.

You spend your tea time and dinner with them and your lacrosse team. Yuta needs to talk about our practice earlier. The team members are called to gather in a table. You look around the big hall, and found Taeyong sitting with his other friends; he sure has a lot of acquaintances!

“So, where are we going to do the essay?” Doyoung questions when the team finish the evaluation.

“I don’t think I can join you two. I forgot to tell you, I’ve made a schedule to learn with Taeyong at seven tonight.” You bite your lips anxiously.

To your surprise, the two boys have no problem with it, “Good luck then! Let’s see if your essay can get a high score tomorrow. Now go and chase your Prince Charming!” Doyoung squeezes your shoulder and pushes you to leave them.

Jaehyun just smiles and waves his hand, then he puts his hand on Doyoung’s shoulder and they cheerfully left.

You meet Taeyong on the school’s indoor garden. During summer, the sun sets a bit longer and the weather is perfect to study in the School’s garden. There are several chairs and tables, most students also use the soft grass directly. As long as you don’t stain your uniforms, you’re good. You’ve changed into a comfortable sweater and pants, you bring your papers and books. Taeyong is already sitting on one of the chair and waves to call you.

You rush to his side and with a big smile; you take the chair across him.

Studying with Taeyong is always serious and efficient. He doesn’t want to disturb my sleeping schedule because he knows how hard and tiring it is to train for lacrosse.

“Any trouble today?” he chuckles after asking you.

You shake your head, “None. You saw me handing my papers to Mr. Yukhei and he was surprised I can finish it. I need to thank you one again Tae.”

“Great! I need to finish on my Philosophy essay, do you need any explanation tonight?” he asks before starting his own work.

“No. I’ll work on my English essay then, it’s due tomorrow!”

Taeyong guesses a number, “Let me guess, must be 4 or 5 pages right?”

You gasped in surprise, “How did you guess?”

He points at your papers, well he’s an observant. You feel foolish thinking that he researched from his friends about your works.

“Right, better start now.” He waves his pen over you and you quickly nod your head.

You are clearly clueless about your essay, while Taeyong easily finishes his introduction.

He pauses from his work and looks at you, who still have a blank page.

“Having hard time? What’s the topic about?”

You once again feel so bad and useless. Taeyong can finish his work in two hours, but because of you he will need more time. Gosh what a nuisance you are.

You guiltily tell him about the theme and he laughs for the absurd choice; however, the two of you got carried into a deep conversation about Rom-com and soon you are able to fill in your papers.

You draw your last period on your last sentence and cheer happily. You stretch your palm which aches and sure will go numb. Taeyong has finished his philosophy work not long after it. You want to give up on his offer to read the literature book, but Taeyong is already on his sixth chapter, and you are still on page twenty… and reading together means more time to spend with Taeyong right? So you force yourself to read the lines.

The two of you have moved from the chairs, your butt hurts and you choose to sit on the green grass. You are leaning back against the cool pillar wall in the indoor garden, with your knees pulled up. Your fingers fiddle with the edges of your literature book. Taeyong is opposite you mirroring your position exactly, just with a calm expression, unlike you who’s frustrated with each dialogue.

After a good ten pages, you give up. Taeyong is still absorbed in the confusing words exchange. His eyes are focused on his book, seemingly deep in thought. His lower lip shows a small pout which he occasionally keeps moist. He sometimes chews on his lips a bit, probably stressed with the plot. You feel your heart melt at his sight. All you want to do is lean in and kiss him then and there. Feel the warmth and plushy pink lips of his.  

Did he even know how beautiful he was?

You hold yourself back from spilling any unwanted words out. Right at that moment, two loud voice break through the silence.

“There you are Tae! I swear I can’t keep up with Jungwoo any longer-“ Mark bends and puts his hands over his knees while gaping for air-“Jungwoo has not left me since dinner and he’s been questioning me the same silly riddles which I do not found funny.”

Jungwoo comes behind Mark with his dorky smile plastered on his bright face.

“There you are Mark! Told you, you can’t escape me. Ah hey Tae, and...” Jungwoo tries his best to recall your name.

“The lacrosse girl from North tower right?” he snaps his finger in attempt to bring back his memory “(y/n)! Woah you’re now studying with (y/n) Tae!”

Taeyong’s face flushes a little and Mark clearly busted him.

“So now you two are a thing?” Mark wriggles his eyebrows.

“What? What do you mean? We’re only studying and doing works together. Nothing’s wrong with it right?” replies Taeyong, flustered.

“Oh yeah we get it studying” Jungwoo puts his finger to make a flying quotation.

You stay quiet while hiding your smile. You got to admit your heart is also beating fast, and seeing Taeyong’s blushing face makes you want to blush too.

“We’re reading our literature task. You want to join us?” Taeyong returns to his cold attitude again.

“Oh definitely no thank you! I’m busy getting under Mark’s skin, good luck for you two!” Jungwoo pushes Mark and waves his hand, then he drags Mark away from us. His tone clearly mocks Taeyong for being shy in front of his crush, but both of you are too shy to admit your feelings.

“I’m sorry about those two. They were never tired. I sometimes wonder why I’m friends with them.” Taeyong turns his body to face you and the moon perfectly glisten his silhouette and sparkling eyes. You are lost in his presence.

“Well how did the three of you met?” You ask clearly curious how Taeyong managed to befriend  two energy balls.

He smiles and got caught in his memory, “We took the train on our first day, and we shared the same coach. That’s how we became friends, but they were sorted to another tower and we promised to still be friends.”

“Lucky you,” you say sincerely. “Honestly. It’s amazing how you’re friends with the other towers. The only person I’ve ever known is Jaehyun.”

Taeyong shakes his head. “No you’re wrong. You have all of the lacrosse team as friends—”

“Not really,” you cut. “They’re not friends. Jaehyun is my only real deal. He’s the only person I’m comfortable in talking to. But it must be nice to have more than one person like that, right?”

Taeyong has an odd look in his eyes. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?” The question surprises you. “Um…yeah. He’s my best friend. I don’t think I’d survive school without him.”

Taeyong’s impassive countenance is puzzling. “Well, you have me now too.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

 “Well, you can talk to me too now! I’m your friend too right? I mean… it’s okay for me to listen to you if one day you need someone.” Taeyong blurts out his messy words.

You look at him surprised, and he quickly drives your attention else where, “Look, I just want you to feel happier. Now it’s almost night time, I think we have to go back.” He shakenly picks his books and stands up. You copy his action and soon the two of you made it to the North Tower.

You both bid farewell and go to your assigned bedrooms. You can’t stop smiling when your memory repeated his words again and again. Taeyong mentioned you as his friend and he sounded like he wanted you to talk with him.

--

The upcoming week end is sports day and the whole school is rejoicing over the short break. For once they can meet their parents who come to look at the game, and have lunch with them too.

Today is the lacrosse sparring game between Neo Culture Institute and WayV School. The two favorite boarding school in the area.

You are especially nervous today, since your rivals are looking tall and big today. You walk through the changing room and gather with the rest of the team. Your coach is busy planning and explaining the game plan for today. You can’t stand still, your nervousness makes you sway from one foot to another. Jaehyun who stands beside you nudges your shoulder. “Stop swaying. You’re annoying.”

You raise your brow, “Hey I’m nervous okay. Look at them… they’re tall and big! I can’t imagine getting hit by them.” You fold your hands over your chest. Jaehyun glances over his shoulder to look at the other team. He smirks and pats your back, “You’re strong. I know you’ll have no trouble today. Just stay calm okay.”

Actually Jaehyun’s words are making you more nervous, it’s as if the whole school has high hopes on your performance today. Well as a shooter, you’re burdened to bring the trophy home. When you turn your back to look at the spectators, you see Taeyong walking to you. He waves at you and you forgot everything else.

“Hey Good luck okay! The North Tower is all here rooting for you! I’ll see you from the bleachers. Break a leg!” Taeyong fist bumps you and leaves to take a seat near the waiting bench.

Your team gathers their hands and yell your jargon. The referee blows the whistle and both team walk into the field. You shake hands with all of the players and note how strong their grips are. You may look smaller than them, but your desire to win is bigger than anything else.

You stand on your position, looking at Jaehyun – who’s on defense – he sends you a reassuring nod and you grip on your racket harder.

The game starts and after the ball is tossed from one racket to another, the first goal belongs to WayV. You did not get a chance to score, for the ball was always on their side. The audience cheers for your team and Yuta burns the team’s spirit back up. You once again return to the hot field and focus on the quick ball. While running here and there, you finally receive a nice catch from Jaehyun and you see the clean chance to score a goal. One to one marks the end of first segment. Your team mates run all scream in joy when you made the first goal.

Your coach makes a note to you, telling you how the opponents are starting to run out of breath. Lucky you, your breathing is still constant. You nod your head in understanding when the coach tells you to keep shadowing them and try to score whenever you got the chance.

You return to the field one more time with big determination and when the whistle sounds, you’re back running to where the ball is. However in the middle of the heated game, you are trying to receive a passing from Yuta when a big-built player from WayV stumbles on you and knocks you down. You’re tossed over the grass and the game is stopped. You see black for a moment and all you can think is you must not pass out here. Not in the middle of the field. Not in the middle of a game.

You open your eyes and found the referee asking your condition.

“Are you okay?” The referee asks

You nod your head and grimace at the feeling in your right ankle. Jaehyun is already kneeling beside you. “Is it your right ankle? You twisted it?”

“I think so,” you look at your right ankle it is slightly swollen.

You nod, he speaks to the referee, “Her right ankle is weak. Usually she banded it firmly with a piece of wood and she must keep walking.”

The referee looks at you and you nod your head approving Jaehyun’s explanation.

“Okay, we’ll see if you can still proceed with the game. Break.” He helps you move to the waiting bench and your coach quickly tied your ankle for support. You force yourself to walk so it doesn’t feel numb and Jaehyun hands you a lemonade to quench your thirst.

Taeyong calls your name and asks if you’re okay. You just smile at him and send him a thumbs up. His smile really numbs your pain.

The break was over and you choose to continue the game. Your coach knows you well, you’re not the weak type to cry over a twisted ankle and beg for substitution. No, instead you’ll be begging to play. You force your foot to function back and although it starts to swell, you’re back on the game. This time, Jaehyun is always running near you. He blocks you from the big players, he helps take the ball, and he’s tirelessly making sure you’re okay. Your fighting spirit returns and you start to forget the pain in your ankle. You receive a ball from Yuta, pass it to Jaehyun who’s free and you rush to get near the goal. Before you have a nice chance, Jaehyun is blocked by two big players which forces him to pass the ball to anyone near him. That person being you, his toss was super high and you jump with all your might to catch the ball. The opponent team is slower to jump, and the ball is in your racket. Quickly you aim for the goal and shoot. Two-One and the game ends with Neo Culture’s win. The audience cheers on the top of their lungs and your team runs to carry you and toss you in the air. The North Tower is cheering the loudest, as they’re super happy that a student from their tower made the winning goal. You see Taeyong smiling at you, but the concern look in his face is unbeatable. Jaehyun comes to hug you and helps you move out of the field. Taeyong once again feels a burning sensation in his heart.

You’re ecstatic. Damn your ankle will probably go black tomorrow and you won’t be able to walk well, but because of the winning shot you’ll even accept it if you have to bruise both of your ankle.

The team escorted the opponent to the dining hall. The tea time is a great banquet at times like this. Parents are also welcomed to enjoy hot teas and fancy sandwiches. The school’s kitchen prepares a big feast and the hungry lacrosse players find no difficulties in finishing those.

Taeyong comes to congratulate you along with his two best friend Mark and Jungwoo. They praise you for your goal and they tease Taeyong for being super worried earlier. You’re happy to learn that Taeyong is worried sick when you fell, but you keep your emotions inside.

The day ends nicely with three big cheers for you from the North Tower. They’re proud of you.

--

You didn’t knew that a week end like this could ever happen. You’re now in the town with Taeyong, his friends, and Jaehyun. His friends insist on inviting you to join their week end get-away. You see Taeyong enters a book shop with his friends while you are dragged by Jaehyun to a fragrance candy shop. He’s busy walking around the aisle picking candies and sweets while constantly bickering on you to try the testers when you are not a big fan of sweets. Not now when all you want to do is sneak out with Taeyong to you don’t know.. maybe a stationary store or a puppy adopting house.

You turn your head to the entry door when you hear the loud voice of Taeyong’s buddies and the two of you exchange glances. You offer him a smile which he did not return. There, Taeyong sees you and Jaehyun sticking to one another and he couldn’t bring a smile to his sour face. He drives his eyes elsewhere and walks to join his friends. You’re confused, what’s wrong with him? Did you do anything wrong?

“Hey (y/n)! Quick what do you want? I’m going to check out after this.” Jaehyun pulls your sleeve and you turn to him, “I’ll take the Choco-pies. 2 boxes. Thanks for the treat.” Jaehyun shakes his head but proceeds to pay his belongings and yours.

Taeyong sees every interaction between you two and he hates himself for not being able to man up and walk to you. No, he’s too shy for you.

Hours of study date and several more lacrosse matches, Taeyong finally found his courage to be a man and spill his heart out. If he has the balls, he will confess and maybe ask you out.

He's been thinking of this for a long time, every night he imagines the possibilities of what might happen after he tells you his true feelings. Will he be your boy? Or will your friendship and his end here?

With the help and support of Mark and Jungwoo, who have been convincing Taeyong that you are also interested in him, Taeyong has finally recite his final practice on the mirror tonight.

Tomorrow's a big day, the school game! Taeyong has prepared your favorite chocolate brand and a hand-written letter. He made a back up plan, yeah he will give the letter if things go wrong.

Taeyong spent some good five nights to write a poetic letter for you, or at least he tried to sound romantic but not cheesy!

He will either talk to you directly or just leave you the message, because he never knows when his tongue will freeze.

The big game day happens from the morning to noon. You've taken breakfast earlier than the other students and were drilled for a light game before the actual one. You're a bit nervous today since the visitor is the strongest challenger from nearby.

One small warm up game won't hurt right?

“Ouch! Fuck jae!” you yell as you throw your racket to the ground and bring your hands to cover your nose.

“Woah i'm sorry really!” Jaehyun tosses his racket to the ground and runs to check on your accident.

Well earlier you and Jaehyun had a little argument because he's been pulling on your nerves for the last weeks. Teasing you that you still don't have anyone to come with you to the prom. You're mad you cannot fight him back because he did find himself a partner already and you're still preoccupied by the tons of homework.

“Hey let me see,” Jaehyun crouches and reaches out a hand to check your nose, but you quickly brush him off.

“Go away! You really pissed me off" you push your body away from him. Maybe it's the hormone and the nerves from the tight schedule and the upcoming match, you never intended to be this rude to your best friend.

Jaehyun stands back with a confused look, he looks a bit hurt, but majority of his face shows concern. He knows the team will most likely blame him for tossing the ball too hard when he clearly sees you’re quite close enough to receive a light throw. But he wants to tease you a bit from the tension and did that strong hit… only to mess up and hit your nose to bleed.

The coach calls and end to the game and you're ushered to the clinic.

“Welcome, what can I help you with?” a soft voice you've heard a lot now, greets you.

You look up from the messy strands of hairs on your face and close your eyes when you recognize who is standing before you.

Out of all student working here, why must it be Taeyong and why must you look this messy and horrible.

You hold your blood red uniform to your nose, you don't realize your skin has been exposed since you drag the top to suck the blood.

“Woah you're so bloody.. seat down" Taeyong hurries over to take the first aid kit and you sit yourself  down on one of the beds.

“Now lean forward slightly and keep breathing from the mouth" Taeyong explains as he rushes back now in front of you.

“Excuse me,” he pinches your nose and after a while he presses an ice pack to stop your clotting.

Taeyong is completely focused to stop your bleeding for ten minutes. Your eyes travel to record every details of Taeyong's beautiful face. He's so close to you, you can feel his light breathes touching your sweaty face and you try your best not to mess your breathing and choke ugli-ly infront of him. Eugh.

“Hey we're almost there.. hold the cold for a moment okay,” he flashes an apologetic smile. You blink and he sorts of get it, you actually forget the freezing sensation… the man you like is standing just inches away from you?! How can you not blush and feel burnt?!

You thank the ice and the alibi of running in the field.. so that way he won't ask why your face is so red now.

Taeyong stops pinching your nose and takes away the cold ice bag too. He then proceeds to clean the bloody mess you have and carefully he asks all the procedural questions he has to.

“So who did this to you?” Taeyong finally let out the most bothering question he has.

You roll your eyes, “Dumb Jaehyun"

Tae’s surprised by your answer, well he thought the two of you cannot have fights but did Jae punched you?

“Lacrosse match is starting soon and he decided to throw me a strong swing when i'm near him… of course the ball will hit me. And voila i'm here.” You look into his worried eyes and suddenly rage is gone from your mind.

“But I gotta thank Jaehyun though,” Taeyong whispers as he cleans up the tissues and ice packs.

“Huh?”

“Uhm don't bend first (y/n) or look down.. that will cause another nose bleed.. just stay calm for a while okay.”

“Well I mean.. because of your accident… we got to meet here…” Taeyong sheepishly smiles, he really has a hard time controlling his emotion.

“Oh well i'm not that happy since you got to see my super ugly side. I mean you see me covered in bloods.. it's horrifying right?” you throw your glance to the floor and swing your legs.

“What's the problem with that? You don't look horrifying… you're still pretty in fact.” Taeyong stands on his track, frozen when he realizes what he just said.

You turn your head to face him, and he looks so flustered, “shit I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Ugh i'm sorry..”

You laugh and tap the empty spot next to you “Come here for a sec?”

Taeyong tosses the medical tray to the sink and he strides to your side.

“Can you say that one more time?” you smirk at him

He looks so flustered, “Uhm which one?”

“That one .. oh you know.” You wink at him.

He inhales a deep breathe, well guess this is it.. the right moment.

Taeyong lets go off a long breathe and he finally holds one of your hands.

“You look pretty. Despite the bloods and the sweats. You really captivate me and you mess me up!” Taeyong stares into your eyes as he spills out his hidden emotions.

“You’ve been running around in my head all the time and guess that's how you can endure the long training from lacrosse! You don't get tired running every day in my head here!” Taeyong rolls his eyes at his own lame joke. Your laugh at least make him more comfortable.

“Nice pun and pick up line there mr sexy brain!” You poke his stomach and he flinches.

“Hey! Glad you like it… I thought it'll sound lame..”

“Well I like you too Tae,” you blurt it out.

His eyes widen in surprise, “Wait I haven't said my words yet! You stole my line.”

You jump from the bed and giggle “Well but I knew you were going to eventually say You like me.. if i'm wrong then I have to leave this school and change face!”

“No.. well you're not wrong.” He also jumps down from the bed

You take some steps backward to the door, “Great! Now I have to cut this sweet moment because… five minutes after this it's the game time!”

Taeyong copies your strides and he is already in front of you, holding you back from leaving the room.

“I like you, meet me after the game… balcony usual place.” He gives you his sweet smile.

“Okay.. guess i'll have to go" you awkwardly wait for something.

Taeyong looks puzzled, you're waiting for something and the door is not closed.

“Oh! GOOD LUCK!” He suddenly realizes that maybe you're waiting for that.

You launch yourself to his embrace. Thankfully, he catches you and prevents you from falling down.

“Need my good luck hug.. jae's probably not giving me any…” you squeeze him tight and leave after realizing you're late

“Go! I’ll see you from the bleachers! Just like that time" he waves and pushes you lightly through the open door.

You smile and rush back to the field. You'll be playing after the break.

“Break a leg team!” you scream to your team mates and they're relieved you're treated and back at the field.

“Change your clothes, and warm yourself up. Guess a nosebleed won’t stop you from playing right?” your coach toss you a new jersey and you excitedly change.

When you return from the changing room, you catch Taeyong on one of the bleachers smiling into you and giving you two thumbs up.

Your fighting spirit returns and you know today's game will be interesting.

--

“Hey hey look who's over the moon!” a silhouette appears from the corner of the balcony and you look over your shoulder to smile at the man taking calm steps to sit beside you.

“Congrats on winning!” Taeyong uses his peripheral view to check you.

“Thanks… I also need to thank your help with my nose.” You shrug your shoulder, “If someone else was there and messed up.. I won't be in the field.”

“So.. is this where I am supposed to tell you what was interrupted this morning?” his legs shake and your heart beat increases.

“Okay I’m doing it now!” he inhales and finally speaks his heart aloud

“I’ve really liked you a lot since the first time we met. I know it took me a long time to convince my heart and say yes this is the girl I want to be with… I'm sorry if I never tell you  this before because I cannot imagine what will happen if my feeling is not mutual ! I did not want to lose a friend like you and silly me used to thought you like Jaehyun and that I don't stand a chance." Taeyong's voice was shaky at first but he managed to sound bold and free on his last words.

You grin when you heard his confession, well you've drop dead gave him a lot of hints that you like him yet he was so pliant and vague about giving signs if he likes you back.

But tonight everything will change!

“So since you’ve blurt it out earlier. I'm gonna make it clear. I like you and I think we can be more than friends!” Taeyong smiles and bites his lower lips just like he usually does when he's nervous.

You nod and hide a strand of hair away from your face, suddenly being so woman-like.

“I like you too Tae,” you chuckle and let go a breathe you did not realize you've been holding.

“So… are you still free to the prom?” Taeyong slips his hand into his pocket and crumple up the letter he has there.

Your eyes twinkle, knowing where this might be going.

You quickly nod your head, “I got too carried away with tests and training… haven't gotten any partner yet. What about you?”

A big grin grows on his face as he reaches out for your hands “Great because this man over here is also looking for a partner. So, will you go to the prom with me?” he lightly squeezes your hands and you feel an electric shock rushing in your body.

“Well what color are you wearing? It better be something that matches with lavender blue, because your girl is going in that color.” You boldly wink at him and he laughs at your action.

Taeyong pulls you closer and hugs you tight “You know what? I have the exact matching attire to stand next to you. See you on the prom?”

You push your body away from him and hold his face in your hands “See you on the prom and breakfast tomorrow!” you press a quick kiss on his cheek and run away. Waving good bye as the night bell rings.

Taeyong stands under the moonlight, blushed with one hand hovering over his red cheek. Did you just kissed him?

Well believe it or not Taeyong craves for more of that plush soft lips!

Sometimes it takes courage to know the truth, but it is always better to take the risk and regret nothing.

The end