#this is the same woman who likes to point out when she’s doing harder exercises than me

[sisyphussister]

was chatting with a woman at crossfit after class yesterday and i mentioned that next week would be my first week off since i began 9 weeks ago and her first instinct was to say in a peppy, only semi-joking voice, “DON’t get FAT!” I—

[spiderlilyserendipity]

Safe and Sound 🔞🔞🔞🖤🖤🖤

Summary: You have a hot neighbour, Jeon Jungkook. It starts out as a little crush, then turns into something more. Can you keep your feelings a secret?

WC: 5522 (5.5k)

Tags: jungkook x reader, neighbours au, shared wall between bedrooms, dom!JK, sub!reader, teasing, JK has a title (owner), multiple orgasms (f. recieving), vibrator use, mild breathplay, creampie, aftercare king JK, implied happy ending

Warnings: Unprotected sex (be careful!)

A/N: Sorry for disppearing randomly everyone, I am in fact alive LOL. I come with JK smut as a peace offering. Requests open. Okay enjoy :-)

🖤🖤🖤

It starts out pure, as most things do. 

His name is Jeon Jungkook, and he’s your neighbour. The two of you have lived beside each other for a few months now and he has never given you any grief. Aside from that, you know little about him. He looks like a superstar: long hair that he keeps tied back neatly, a sleeve of tattoos, and a nonchalant vibe to him. He isn’t a superstar—you googled him the same day you met him to make sure. He tells you in the elevator he works in the music industry, a producer. He asks about what you do, and you keep it short and simple because you’re nervous and you don’t want to make your little crush seem bigger than it is.

He looks thirty at least, but when he smiles, his face turns younger. He has laugh lines despite his youth, and dimples. He works long hours, and when he comes home, he often looks exhausted. Despite that, Jeon Jungkook is polite to all the neighbours and does not make much fuss. He works out in the apartment’s gym, mostly using weights. He’s not always there when you are, likely adjusting his workout times to his schedule. Sometimes you run into him when he’s warming up, and he nods to you. Other times, he’s concentrating on counting his reps and you take the time to eye his glorious muscles. But your favourite times are when he’s boxing. 

You tell yourself not to be weird about it, but there’s just something about the sport (or rather, Jungkook engaging in it) that makes your stomach turn. It always goes the same way: he warms up first, wraps his hands, then starts. It’s light punches at first, then kicks, then faster hits. You watch him from your treadmill through the reflection of the window in front of you. He never notices you looking, assuming you’re focusing on the music you’re listening to (you’re not listening to anything). You suppose your crush broils down to the paradox between Jungkook’s nature and his cool exterior. After all, there are many men who put effort into looking cool and then ruin it by opening their mouths. On the flip side, there are men who are sweet but can’t keep a woman’s attention for the life of them. 

Jeon Jungkook has the best of both worlds, and from what you’ve seen, he’s single. A couple years older than you and with a very different aesthetic, you don’t know how well it would work. But that’s the point of a crush: the less you know about them, the more you like them.

So you resign yourself to just watching him from afar. A few times, you and Jungkook finish exercising at the same time. It’s the same conversation every time, small talk in the elevator. Then you get to your front door, and he smiles at you one last time before unlocking his own. He disappears, and you go on with your life. 

Until you come to a startling conclusion: the two of you share a bedroom wall. 

The realization comes to you at midnight one Thursday, at the brink of a long weekend. You don’t hear the sound of Jungkook’s door open, nor are you awoken by the quiet voices. But what does wake you is the thud right next to your bed.

Your eyes fly open, your mind immediately racing. Did something fall? Is there an earthquake?!

Then, you hear the woman moan. “Oh, please.” She whimpers, and you feel your face flush. Oh. 

“Please, what?” It’s Jungkook. His voice is muffled through the wall, deep and raspy but you recognize him nonetheless. You flush harder, pulling your blankets in tighter. “You have to be polite, sweetheart.”

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.” The woman concedes. You hear the rustle of fabric against the wall as someone moves against it. The woman’s pants draw closer to your head, and you hold your breath. Jungkook has pulled the woman over, pressing her against the wall. 

“Mmm, hmm.” Jungkook says, sounding very pleased. “That’s better. But you know I won’t let you have your way, right?”

The woman murmurs something in response, and another smack resonates. You flinch at the sound, but the woman moans. “You can’t just please, sir your way into what you want every time.” Jungkook hisses, sounding perfectly cruel. “You know damn well I have a trip with my friends that I have to leave for in the morning. So why the fuck are you here now?”

“I missed you.” The woman admits. 

Jungkook scoffs. “So you ask my friend for my address and show up unannounced without panties under your dress?” You can hear the scowl in his voice. Another smack and the woman’s pants grow louder. 

“You like it.” She says. 

At that, Jungkook says nothing for a moment. Then, you hear a low chuckle. “Don’t push it.” He warns in a soft voice. Unconsciously, you swallow. You hear the clink of a belt, and then the woman giggles. Another smack and her giggling is cut short. 

Footsteps move away from the wall, then the woman calls out. “Ugh, why are you getting a condom?”

Even though you don’t mean to, you find yourself straining to hear Jungkook’s answer. “Why would I give a little whore like you my come?” Jungkook says with a laugh, as if he’s talking about the weather. At that second, your traitorous brain decides to remind you of the time you made Jungkook laugh with a pun about the weather. 

“I must be crazy.” You mutter to yourself, throwing your blankets off. You reach for your night stand, rummaging through it for your ear plugs. “Boundaries, Y/N. Boundaries.” You mutter, shoving the ear plugs in as far as they’ll go. Then, you roll to the side away from the wall and concentrate on your breathing until you fall asleep.

But as your brain would have it, you dream of one thing: a set of hands. The right one is tattooed and the left is bare, the fingers long with beautiful nail beds. You dream about those hands being wrapped before boxing, the strong hits against the punching bag. A polite smile flashes in your mind, and then a much less polite set of words coming out of the mouth. Little whore.

***

Morning comes, and you do your best to get your mind off the events of last night. You tell yourself it’s normal to overhear a conversation or two while living in an apartment building. You tell yourself it’s perfectly normal for a grown man like Jungkook to bring a woman home, to indulge in whatever consensual pleasure he enjoys. Most importantly, you keep a steel grip over the butterflies in your belly. A crush is one thing, but having sexual thoughts about someone who has never so much as flirted with you is inappropriate. 

“Oh, let me.” 

You freeze in the doorway. You’re fighting with your front door, trying to get it to stay open so you can lug your suitcase out. At that moment, Jungkook comes out of his own apartment. He’s freshly showered, his hair still wet. He smiles at the sight of you struggling, then easily pulls the door open the rest of the way. As he comes closer, you smell his soap and aftershave and try not to die on the spot. You can’t even hide your expression, because Jungkook is looking directly down at you, smiling. Who knew a man with such an innocent smile could say such nasty things?

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asks, his smile faltering for a second. Then, he looks down at your suitcase. “Oh, is it stuck?” He guesses, his hand brushing over yours. You watch him pick up the suitcase that was requiring your whole body to pull with one hand. “Ah, the back wheels stick a bit, don’t they?” He says, chuckling softly. 

Little whore. The words echo in your mind.

Fucking shut up. You tell yourself, then smile at him. “Yes, they do.” You force a laugh. “I think it’s time for me to invest in a new one.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jungkook says, laugh lines appearing on his face. Then, his eyes glance over your sundress and sandals. “Are you heading somewhere for the long weekend?” He asks, and you swear for a second his eyes linger on your collarbones. 

You fight a blush, then nod. “My friends and I are going to the beach. We’ll drive down this morning, have a picnic down there. That’s actually what the suitcase is for, I made snacks. Well, it’s not all snacks, there’s some clothes because we’re going to visit my hometown and spend the rest of the weekend there. I haven’t been in a while, but I really miss my parents, so I’ll probably get them souvenirs from the beach before—” You stop yourself short when you realize Jungkook’s smile is growing wider. Your face feels hot. You hope you’re not blushing, but from the look on Jungkook’s face, you are. There’s no way Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. 

“A-Anyway. I’ll leave you be. I’m sure you have to leave soon, too.” You say.

Jungkook raises a brow. “How do you know I’m going somewhere?”

You know damn well I have a trip with my friends that I have to leave for in the morning.

The two of you just look at each other for a moment, and at this point, Jungkook doesn’t even bother to hide his amusement. “Well, just a guess.” You flounder. “It’s the long weekend, after all. Why wouldn’t you go somewhere?” You say.

“Mmm hmm.” Jungkook says. Then, he purses his lips. “Have you been keeping tabs on me, Miss Y/N?”

“No.” You mean it—you might have googled him that one time but you have never looked up the man’s socials or anything. You don’t even have his number, so of course it would be a violation of privacy to follow him uninvited. The problem is that you say it a little too fast, which makes you look like a liar even if you aren’t.

Jungkook takes a step closer, and you swallow. You step backward, hitting the now-closed front door. He chuckles. Don’t push it. You’re reminded. “Do I make you nervous, Miss Y/N?” Jungkook asks, even though he knows the answer. “Or is there something else you’d like to tell me?” His eyes glint with the answer, but you refuse to acknowledge it. If you say you heard him last night, he’ll definitely think you’re a pervert.

“No, not at all.” You say, side stepping him. “Have a good trip!” You say without looking back, then beeline with your half-broken suitcase for the elevators. In your rush, you miss the smug expression on Jungkook’s face and the way his eyes flicker down your body.

***

The trip goes fine, or as fine as it can go in your circumstances. You try to sing along to your friends’ playlists to distract yourself, but the only thing that comes to mind is Jungkook. You try your best to make sense of it. You’re not a virgin by any means, but it has admittedly been a while since you dated or slept with someone. Jungkook is handsome and polite, but there is a third important factor: you see him often. You see him around, and although you two aren’t friends, you feel comfortable for that reason. 

That’s all it is. Familiarity. You aren’t crazy for him, you don’t even know if he has a girlfriend. You’ve never so much as sat down and had a cup of coffee with the man. He’s just a really handsome man and you’re an extraordinarily single woman. End of story.

But still, as the day drags on you keep thinking about him. There’s a certain tenseness to you, throughout the picnic and even when you visit your parents’ house. You’re not sick, you’re not hurting. But there’s a tension you don’t have a name for, and only Jungkook’s face seems to ease it.

It’s not until you’re home that you realize what that tension is: sexual frustration. You need an orgasm.

You push off your frustration for a bit longer, choosing to get a little bit done. You cook dinner for yourself and carefully select which photos to post on your Instagram, and make plans with your friends to meet up again next week. 

But as the night draws closer, your frustration hits a peak. You need an orgasm badly. 

So you try the old-fashioned method: your vibrator and porn. You pick a random video with a semi-good thumbnail and put your earbuds in. The man in this video talks dirty to the woman, but for whatever reason, you’re not turned on by it. The tone of his voice is all wrong, and he says the words like he’s reading off a script. He doesn’t care about her pleasure as much as he does the camera. He doesn’t mean it.

Little whore.

You gasp, opening your eyes. You turn off your vibe, setting it aside. You’re losing your mind, you really are. What kind of a pervert gets off to someone who has absolutely zero interest in them? You’re insane. 

So you try again with the vibrator, this time without the video. You use your imagination this time. You imagine your ideal man—muscular and handsome. He’s rough in the right ways, but knows what you need and what your limits are. He calls you filthy words and makes you work for your own orgasm, and when you obey him perfectly, he will reward you with a sweet title. He’ll tease and touch you, but he’ll give you what you want if you’re patient. If you’re not, his big, calloused hands will come down on your ass. But if you behave, he’ll slip one tattooed finger inside—

“Fuck.” You gasp, cutting off your own orgasm. You groan, tipping your head back against the pillow. You just did it again. You whine, setting your vibe aside. You want an orgasm so badly, but not an unethical one like this. 

You try one last time, turning the vibe back on. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second, and your hips rut up on their own. But you don’t want that, you don’t want the freedom of doing whatever. You want the discipline of someone’s hands pinning your hips down, someone’s mouth controlling when and if your clit gets stimulated.

“Please, please.” You whisper, trying to dissuade your own mind from thinking of Jungkook. You feel the high building, and you’re wet from all the edging. You slip a finger inside yourself, but it’s just not enough. You need someone to fill you up properly and rub your clit for you, not a stupid toy and your own fingers. At this point, you’re all but crying with frustration. This isn’t how you want it to happen, this isn’t how it should go. But you’re high strung and you’ll take any orgasm you can get at this point. “Fill me, fill me—”

Your quiet begging is cut off by a loud clatter on the other side of the wall. 

You hiss. You snap the vibe off, tipping your head back. Even at the brink of pleasure, only one name crosses your mind: Jungkook. Jungkook is home, and you need to make sure he doesn’t hear you.

“Fuck.” You hear him curse, then his footsteps draw closer to your head. A beat of silence, and you think he must have picked up whatever he dropped and left. At least, you want that to be the case, because you don’t know how long you can hold out. So you turn your vibe back on, but before you can put it back against you, your doorbell rings.

You smack your head against your pillow, wishing you could knock yourself out. You’re crying now, and you’re wetter than ever. You need this orgasm, but some fucking asshole has to show up right this instant and bother you. 

You pull your panties and shorts back on, then pull your baggy shirt down. You’re not wearing a bra, but you don’t particularly plan on opening the door anyway so you just head over. You look through the peephole, and the sight all but takes your breath away. It’s Jungkook. 

“Y/N.” Jungkook drops the formality, knocking against the door. “I know you’re there.” 

You take a deep breath. Surely, he didn’t hear you, right? He’s not going to think of you as some pervert, right? You tug down your shirt more to cover your tiny shorts. No, surely Jungkook just wants something simple. A cup of sugar, the new hours for the apartment gym, etc. So you open the door. You pretend to yawn, but Jungkook’s sharp gaze cuts you off. Immediately, his eyes flicker down your body. You’re sure he can see your hardened nipples through the shirt, and the high rise of your shorts. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath, like he is trying not to lose his mind. Your heart thuds in your chest. “Did I interrupt something?” He asks. You hate that habit of his, asking questions he knows the answers to. 

“No.” You lie bluntly, and a muscle quivers in Jungkook’s jaw. 

“Can I come in, then?” He asks. You watch his eyes roam your face, taking in the flush of your face and the half-dried tears.

“No.” You answer.

“You said you weren’t doing anything.” Jungkook says, taking a step inside. You inhale sharply. Without looking behind him, Jungkook closes the door and locks it. “Am I wrong?” He challenges you. 

You can’t take it anymore. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, a slight smile on his lips. 

You look down at his baggy black t-shirt and skinny jeans, at his sleeve tat. You’re too close right now, less than a foot between you. He looks down at you with a darkness in his eyes you’ve never seen, and it drives you insane. “I’m sorry.” You apologize, looking him in the eye. “I didn’t listen in on you and your girlfriend on purpose. You just woke me up.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Is all Jungkook says, but his eyes hone in on your tear-stained face. “Is that why you’ve been crying?”

“No, I—” You want to cry again when he asks you. Jungkook cups your face, holding you steady. You take a step closer and dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt. “I want to come, but I shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks.

You start to cry again. “Because I keep thinking of you and I shouldn’t.”

At your confession, Jungkook hisses like you burned him. “You can’t let yourself come because you keep thinking of me?” He reiterates, wiping your tears. You nod. He chuckles darkly, and you feel yourself slipping into his control. “What if I gave you permission? Would you like to come then?” He asks, his voice low and soft. You feel reassured at his words.

“Yes, please.” You whisper.

“Yes, please, what?” Jungkook has a glint in his eye now that tells you his own self-control is slipping, but he won’t make the first move unless you let him.

“Please, owner.” You cry, and Jungkook seals your lips with a kiss. In a heartbeat, Jungkook’s shoes are off and his hands are all over you. He kisses you like he wants to eat you alive, and you’re so needy that all you can do is whimper into his mouth. You let him pull you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his middle. He walks you to the bedroom, undoubtedly knowing which side of the house it’s on by now. He sets you down on the edge of your bed, kissing you.

“Take everything off, baby.” Jungkook orders, and you have never wanted to obey a man so badly in your life.

You stand up since it’s easier to strip like that. Meanwhile, Jungkook takes your vibe in his hand, smirking at it. “This little thing is all you have?” He laughs at it. You flush as you come to stand between his spread legs. You press your thighs together, turned on by the fact that you’re completely naked while Jungkook is dressed.

Jungkook pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your hips. He looks up at you, then kisses along your belly and hips. You wriggle, and Jungkook digs his fingers into your ass, holding you still. He glances up at you, eyes full of lust, then smacks your ass. You gasp, loving the feeling even though you know he means it as a warning. Jungkook then pulls the back of your thighs, and you take it as your hint to straddle him. Once on his lap, Jungkook kisses along your neck and collarbone. He chuckles as you sigh against him, then takes one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucks at it and fondles the other side. It takes everything in you not to grind down on him. 

“Such small hands, too.” Jungkook says once both of your nipples have been sucked. You follow his gaze to where your hands are resting on his chest. Belatedly, you realize your right middle finger is still wet from fingering yourself. “Poor thing, no wonder you were begging to be filled.” Jungkook mocks you.

“Owner.” You say breathlessly. 

“What, whore?” Jungkook says, then leans back. You watch him take off his shirt. He smirks at you ogling his muscles, then smacks your other ass cheek. “Don’t be a greedy slut, you’ll get what I give you. Now bend over my lap.” He orders, and you follow suit. You whine at the sensation of Jungkook’s denim against your already wet pussy, but Jungkook doesn’t care for your complaints. He kneads your ass with his hands, and you moan. “What do you like about me so much, anyway? Tell me.” He says.

“Y-Your hands.” You answer immediately, making Jungkook laugh. He slaps your ass twice, and you all but shake with the effort to not grind up against him. “S-So big. I w-wanted to feel them on me since I saw you boxing.”

“Ah, is that why I always see you at the gym these days?” Jungkook says in an exaggeratedly understanding voice. He slaps your ass again, harder. 

“Yes, owner!” You cry out, clenching your thighs. 

Jungkook chuckles. “How cute. You really are a greedy bitch. I don’t know how you went all these months without begging me to fuck you even once. It’s obvious you needed it.”

“I-I did, owner.” You say. Jungkook pulls your right leg out so that your thigh dangles over his knees. He rubs at your clit, making you whimper. You’re concentrating so hard on trying not to come that you miss Jungkook’s question. Jungkook slaps your pussy, making you focus. What else? “A-And your muscles are so nice, you look so strong. I wanted you to h-have your way with me.”

Jungkook laughs, slapping your pussy again. You feel your tears return at his teasing, bubbling up. “Is that so? Wanted me to make an example out of you, show everyone how I can make a needy whore like you do whatever I want?”

“Yes, owner!” You respond enthusiastically, and Jungkook rewards your honesty with a gentle rub to your reddened ass and then up your lower back. It almost feels like a massage, until you shift just slightly and feel Jungkook’s hard member right under your clit.

“Come.” Jungkook orders, turning the vibe on and pressing it to your clit.

“Owner, no!” You beg, and Jungkook stops instantly. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, making you turn your head to look back at him. Worry crosses his face. “Is it too much, baby?” He checks, and you shake your head.

“I wanna come with you.” You say, and Jungkook’s expression softens. 

“I won’t give you just one, since you’re pent up.” Jungkook says in that same low and soft voice that makes you feel like you’re floating. You’re sure if you asked, Jungkook would have no problem going gentle on you, but his sweetness feels more valuable since you have had to earn it.

“Okay.” You say softly, feeling lost in Jungkook’s hold. Jungkook leans down, kissing your hair. Then, he turns the vibe back on and presses it to your clit. “Oh, fuck. Oh, owner.” You cry out, and reach back for Jungkook’s free hand. He gives it to you, and you hold it between both of yours like a lifeline. You press a kiss to the back of it as you come, shaking hard. Jungkook lets you ride it out, never so much as grunting when you dig your nails into his hand. He lets you lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Then, he helps you sit up.

“How was that, baby?” Jungkook checks, brushing the hair that’s stuck to your face away. You preen at his gentle touch, feeling proud to have met his standards.

“Good. Thank you, owner.” You say, and Jungkook beams. Then, you look down at his bulge. “Could I help you now?”

At that, Jungkook’s smile flickers. “Can you handle it? We don’t have to if it’s too much.” Jungkook makes sure you know, but you shake your head.

“Wanna make you feel good. Just for you.” You tell him. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. “Lay down then.”

You lay back against your pillow and Jungkook gets up. He unbuckles his belt, which alone makes your stomach flip in glee. He removes his jeans and then his underwear, 

“Would you like to come from my fingers?” Jungkook coos at you, blatantly ignoring you writhing against him. He laughs as you clench and unclench, curving his fingers at the perfect angle. “You have to answer me to get what you want. I won’t give you anything if you’re greedy, you know.”

“I want to come. Please, owner. I want to.” You beg, and Jungkook turns the vibe off. You watch as he leans in, pressing his lips to your clit. He sucks at it while fingering you, then looks up at you. You come blindingly fast, purely from the knowledge that although Jungkook is technically pleasuring you, he still has all the power.

“That was fast. Did my little whore need it that bad?” Jungkook mocks you, running his thumbs over your hip bones. You shudder at his all too gentle touch, knowing damn well he could leave bruises if he wanted to. But he doesn’t because he knows you’d love that, and he won’t give you anything you want unless you show him proper respect.

“Yes, owner. Needed it.” You answer honestly, then let Jungkook help you into a sitting position. Jungkook holds you by the back of your neck, kissing you slow and deep. You sigh into his mouth as Jungkook uses his clean hand to rub at the knots at the base of your neck, quiet but attentive.

When you break off the kiss, you glance down at Jungkook’s hard cock. You lick your lips and Jungkook snorts. “Not right now.” He reads your mind. “I want to be inside you.” He says. You swallow at the thought of it.

Jungkook turns you around, positioning you so you’re on your knees. You whine as he wets his tip in your come, then slides in inch by inch. Both of you groan at the feeling of your overstimulated pussy clenching around him, wanting more. Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist, holding you flush against his chest. You rest your head back against his shoulder, and Jungkook gives you a minute to adjust to the feeling of him. When you’re ready, you squeeze his arm and Jungkook starts to pump in and out. 

You whine, and Jungkook kisses your neck. “That’s it. So obedient.” He says, and the praise makes you groan. You reach down and take away the vibe from Jungkook’s free hand. You take his hand and guide it to your throat, making him hiss. You hold the vibe to your clit on your own, satisfied at being used. Jungkook lets you get away with taking charge, if only because he notices you clench harder around him when he presses on your throat just enough to make you lightheaded. Within a few minutes, Jungkook’s thrusts begin to lose their control, and grow faster and rougher. It gets to the point where Jungkook is all but holding you up, and his groans and pants are no stranger to you now. 

“Would you like my come?” Jungkook asks with a slight laugh, still having the energy to tease you in this state.

“Yes, owner. Yes. Thank you so much.” You chant, and Jungkook tightens his hold on your throat just enough to make you lightheaded. You tip your head back against his shoulder, only able to concentrate on holding the vibe to your clit while Jungkook wraps his free arm around your waist. He uses his arm around your waist for leverage to fuck into you, and you have no shame in crying at this point as he uses you. You feel so full already, but you want his seed.

“Good girl, come.” Jungkook praises you, and that alone sends you over the edge. As you clench and shudder around him, Jungkook comes into you. The two of you end up back down on the bed, with Jungkook laying behind you. You let him tuck his chin over your shoulder, rubbing his hands along your sides to soothe you. “Good girl, so perfect.” He praises you, holding his come deep within you. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much, owner.” You say in a desperate voice, your sub space overtaking your rational mind. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, however, smiling and peppering kisses against your neck. 

“Let’s stay like this for a bit, okay?” He says and you hum in agreement. 

The two of you lay for what feels like forever, and you’re so tired and satiated that you feel yourself starting to fall asleep. But that’s when Jungkook pulls out of you, reaching for the tissue box on the nightstand. “Here.” Jungkook whispers, wiping between your legs gently. When you whine from the overstimulation, Jungkook kisses you softly. “Do you want to shower now or after?” Jungkook asks.

“Now.” You say, but hold your arms out. Jungkook grins, his eyes crinkling. He lets you wrap your arms around his neck and carries you like a bride to the adjacent bathroom. He turns the shower on and helps you get in. You let him wash you down, cleaning your skin and hair. Jungkook takes his sweet time, humming under his breath as he works on you. When you’re both clean, Jungkook wraps a towel around his hips and then another around your body.

“Do you want to get dressed and I’ll change the sheets?” Jungkook asks. You can’t answer him, too deep into the feeling of being safe and doted on. Noticing this, Jungkook cups your face, kissing you. Then, he leads you back into the bedroom. You sit on your vanity chair, watching Jungkook rummage around your room for fresh sheets as if he’s always been there. 

As if he’s always been there. 

The thought is dangerous, even in your blissful state. Jungkook has other women, probably multiple. You can’t be stupid and think he only does this stuff with you. The thought makes your heart sink, getting in the way of the soft feeling in your head. 

Eventually, Jungkook finds a fresh set of sheets on the top shelf of your closet. He strips the bed down and changes it, then throws the soiled sheets into the laundry basket in the bathroom. You even watch as he looks through your nightstand for disinfectant wipes for your vibrator, and cleans it off. Then, when he’s done everything, Jungkook opens his arms and lets you come over to him. You get into bed, cuddling into Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook pulls the covers over both of you, holding you close. 

“Sorry.” You whisper. Even one word is hard to say, but you need to say it.

“Why?” Jungkook says, patting your head. You sigh against his chest. Even with your body wash on him, Jungkook still smells so much like himself.

“Y-Your girlfriend…” Is all you can get out, and Jungkook quickly pieces together what you mean.

“I don’t have one. She’s only an acquaintance.” Jungkook says, then pulls back to look at your face. His expression softens. “We can talk about all of this later. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No?” You ask.

“No.” Jungkook reiterates firmly. For good measure, he holds you tighter and you sigh. You love this feeling, love feeling taken care of. “Just relax and let me take care of you, baby. We can talk more later. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, and Jungkook continues to hold you close until you fall asleep. Safe and sound. 

[jess-le-mess]

Feedist Kinktober - Day 17

(Prompt: Gaining Gamer 🎮)

(Content notes: fat cis woman main character; fat cis woman supporting character; f/f relationship; feeder/feedee dynamics)

Gamer

As a lifelong fat girl, I'd always held the feedist community at arms' length. Not necessarily the kind of thing I was going to judge, as I think kinks and all that should be respected, but not something I'd wanted to indulge myself in either. I've always been pretty big so the idea of gaining more weight has never been something that appealed to me. And I've sometimes dreamed of enticing a partner to gain weight to reach my size, but I wouldn't have called myself a feeder or whatever. I figured I was just lonely from so often having to be the fattest girl in the room that I just wanted company.

And, I mean, who knows. I'm sure deep down that's probably still part of the reason. I do feel increasingly confident while out and about now that my girlfriend is inching ever closer to my size. I'm still a bit bigger, but since she's passed two-hundred-fifty I definitely feel a bit more relaxed while out. As bad as it is to say, I know now that people are going to be looking at her with the same looks they've always given me.

It's less bad, I think, because I know my girlfriend loves it.

Alison and I have been dating for a little over a year at this point. I remember when she asked me to be her girlfriend. She was clearly nervous, her hands were practically shaking. She'd confessed that she was into gaining weight. That she wanted to get fat. I admit at the time I kind of scoffed at that as she was definitely pretty thin. Not necessarily a stick, but certainly slim and athletic-looking. But I figured we could try it, as it was something I'd always wanted to try anyway.

What I didn't realize was how into it I was going to be. The first few months I couldn't keep my hands off her, just caressing her growing body and overwhelmed by the urge to shove more fattening food into her and send her further down the road to fatness.

I eventually did manage to chill out a bit as she gained a bit and the relationship was less new, although not a whole lot. She's still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I still can't keep my hands off her.

I'm so in love. I can't believe she trusted me with this, and I get to share in it. And I find that I'm sharing things with her too. Things that were harder to share when she was thin, just from bad experiences. I'm opening up more. I'm getting better with non-sexual touch.

We actually hug sometimes. I'm not normally a hugger. I won't even hug my brother, although I love him dearly. I've just never been much for feeling that kind of touch on my body. It's weird, but it has almost felt too intimate, too invasive.

But with Alison, it's okay.

What I've loved about this process is not just watching my girlfriend gain weight, but watching the way the weight has changed her in so many ways. Like, yes. She's fatter and she eats more now. But I love the other changes that have happened as she accommodates her growing body.

Like how she pretty much only ever wears leggings now, and when she sits down her giant ass is always hanging out of them. She's slower, and has developed a shuffle that every day threatens more and more to become a waddle. Her voice sounds different, and I catch her taking breaths while talking now.

But one thing is that she has hobbies now. When I met Alison, I at first sort of worried we wouldn't work out because she didn't seem to do anything besides work, cook, and exercise.

If anything spoke to how deeply she must've wanted to gain weight, it was probably this. It was almost like I was watching her bloom into a whole person. She watched TV now, had favorite movies, played video games. I've always been a fan of these things, so it was really nice that we could honestly share that. Watching her excitedly force me to watch the shows she wanted was such a trip.

She seemed to mostly like girly slice-of-life anime, but I wasn't going to judge. I was just basking in my girl's newfound delight with the world around her.

She'd also taken up knitting again---she was a textile artist working with yarn in university, but then dropped as “real-life” sucked the joy out of it, according to her---and also sewing, which I loved because not only could she make clothes for herself that were her exact size, but she could also repair stuff, like when my favorite dress got a tear in it. It was just a loving gesture that I really liked. Although we didn't live together, it felt domestic and homey. Like perhaps we could one day have a home together.

Alison had developed a love for video games that outstripped my play-MMO-games-with-my-friends urge. I might still probably play more hours per session, but she'd become an all-out gamer nerd. She'd picked up an encyclopedic knowledge of the genres she liked and would excitedly tell me about what she discovered each time we saw each other.

Right now, I'm just sitting here watching her play some JRPG she's into right now---supposedly it has a million parts and she's sent me the wiki but I frankly haven't looked at it because I want to see her excitedly tell me more stuff about it. She's shirtless, with her belly flopping out onto her thighs, and wearing those leggings she loves so much. She's got her glasses on, and is periodically frowning at the screen and taking sips from a 2L of orange soda, presumably for courage.

She's so perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am.

I reach out for her hand. She looks at me, at first with a look of surprise and offense, but then her face softens and she takes my hand.

And I can't help it. The bare truth of it wells up inside of me, forcing itself out of my mouth, needing to be said, "I love you, Alison. I love you so so much."

She looks at me and smiles, her face placid, angelic. "I love you too."

I kiss the adorably chubby indents where her knuckles were once visible, and let her go back to her game.

[witchinatree]

we're about to get real on the blog ☝️ sorry mutuals

long and very personal vent post (?) below be warned

i am not overweight (i used to be), i'm in the higher average category for my height, but i don't exercise (i'm also a minor)

for a major part of my life, beginning when i was 9 i think? i've had severe breathing issues and a lot of fatigue that significantly worsened during the pandemic. i used to run 5ks, play soccer, i did a tri-althalon once, i biked all the time, in general i was an active and outdoorsy kid! and then i felt my health decline, i would run a mile in my neighborhood with my mom and be crying in pain by the end of it, i quit soccer and stopped running and to this day i've never had that level of activity, because i can't.

i went to the doctor about this as a kid and they didn't give me an answer (i actually have no clue what they told me it was several years ago) and i started to gain a lot of weight (unrelated, kind of? i guess my sudden drop in activity was part of it) and was considered overweight by the time i was 12

this was still before the pandemic so it had just faded into my life; it had become a regular pain i felt and i no longer noticed it! and then suddenly it stopped being regular and once it came back i couldn't tolerate it

i saw 14 specialists my freshman year of high school, i had allergy tests, whatever that thing when they stick a camera in your throat is called, asthma tests, etc and the moment the doctor no longer knew what to do with me they said it was anxiety/inactivity/being overweight

so i went to therapy, i joined my school's swim team, i lost weight. my sophomore year i focused purely on proving to these doctors there was something more. but no one believed me. i hadn't been active for long enough, i still weighed on the higher average side, i wasn't medicated for my anxiety, nothing could prove to these people that something was wrong

and i gave up! my junior year of high school i tried my best to live with it, i settled into the pain that i had been fighting for so long. i had to quit the swim team because we got a new coach and she pushed us harder, wanted us to swim more, and i could not do it! she's a very kind woman and i cried in my car after every swim practice because i knew i had to quit because i was literally drowning but i didn't want to because i loved the team and i love swimming! i had a panic attack at the first meet i tried to attend and ended up just going home before any of my events and that was the breaking point. my mom wanted me to do one last appointment, and she asked for an allergy test. it came back with a dairy allergy, a minor dairy allergy that just means i can't eat my favorite foods anymore because suddenly that's the source of my pain that doesn't go away when i don't eat dairy, i feel ever so slightly better and now when i eat dairy i get really sick, but it didn't fix it

now i'm a senior, i've been tested for so many things and seen so many awful doctors who have echoed the same sentiment, i need to lose weight and become physically active in order for my problems to be taken seriously. i cannot be physically active because it feels like i will die

i became a vegetarian, i joined a sport, i fucking developed an eating disorder all to prove that i should be taken seriously and nothing has worked, my problems aren't easily diagnosed so they're not real

i'm not scared to go to more doctors, i just don't want to waste my fucking time, if there's an answer out there maybe i'll get it when i'm in a retirement home and it doesn't matter anymore

sorry about the long ass vent post i just see things like this and it really speaks to me as the (formerly) overweight kid who just needs answers no one will ever give me

also disclaimer ☝️ don't lose weight if you don't want to. unless you're gonna like die if you don't, you should probably lose weight at that point!!!! but like i'm happy with my weight loss but i wish i did not use the methods i did

it’s also fucked up that fat people literally fear going to the doctor for anything because they know the first thing out of their dr’s mouth no matter what their ailment is, is gonna be “lose weight lol” broken leg? lose weight. rash? lose weight. whooping cough? lose weight binch!!!!! like we get it. but can you just write my prescription you bitch so i can go eat a salad and not call you again until im about to die of the plague????

[sajaffery]

3...

i have to come up with a different proverb. maybe a new one. this is harder then i thought. but im really enjoying doing it. it feels like a wrting exercise. shit! it is a wrting exercise and i hate those. i absolutely hate them because they feel gimicky and unimaginative. but i came up with this on my own. so is it unimaginative? wait isnt there something called free association writing? is that what im doing right now? im not sure. i dont think youre allowed to think in that you’re just supposed to write and write and write and write. but how can you write without thinking? okay charger has been plugged back in and i can stop and think again. full disclosure by the way i am cheating to a certain extent because i keep editing every fifth mistake i make. im still leaving a lot in there to make this feel authentic. i felt like adding an emoticon there. cue self loathing. but no wait. old white men dont like emoticons do they? that good we like that. but young white girls do like emoticons. and justin bieber. dont know which way to turn now. lets move on. and i’m blank. i cant get justin bieber out of my head. good thing its not young white girls because that would be creepy. andd liable. is liable the right word. i want to google but i cant. new rule! no googling allowed. just train of…no no no. we cant use that either no trains allowed. old white men use trains. river of thoughts? cheesy. to similar to stream of consciousness, which isnt so bad because Virgina Woolf is a dead white woman. and i hate to love joyce. Love Dubliners. Love the idea of Ulysses, despite never getting past page 50 and not understanding what the hell happened in the forty or so pages i do read. except a young jesuit was or wasnt shaving. no word count either. new rule. im always checking word count to make myself feel good but we wont be doing that anymore. but i cant do this in the mornings anymore. not when i have to write. i mean seriously write because i would like to get published one day. read my name on the cover of a book. a hardback thak you very much because i do still love those (dead white men be damned) even if i dont particulalrly like paying for them. 15.99 for a book is ridiculous. especially when you can get it for 1p plus shipping costs in a few months time. i just cheated again. i deleted a whole paragraph i dint like anymore. its just felt repetitive like i was just telling you the same thing all over again in different word. filler. and we don’t like filler. its something EL James would use. i’m so glad EL James has become the by word for bad literature. she fully deserves it and im not just saying that because shes made a shit load of money. it does help though.it also helps that everyone seems to know who she is. James Patterson is equally shit, actually hes a different kind of shit. those alex cross books werent too bad to begin with. they certainly made good movies. anything with morgan freeman is a good movie. i hope if god does exist he does look like him. i wouldnt mind listening to him for all off eternity then. but then he started buying up unpublished manuscripts, polishing them up and printing them as his own with the real author getting a co-write. that fucking pisses me off. and he has the nerve to defend it by saying that he’s helping young unpublished authors. no you’re not asshole youre just printing money and using struggling authors just like every other arsehole looking to make a quick buck is. but you cant badmouth patterson because most nonreaders don’t know about him. but everybody knows EL James. god bless anal beads. okay im back. its the same day but i just posted this went downstairs to make some more green tea and came back up to add a little more to it. had two slices of chocolate cake too. i thought i was eating more because i was having a hard time writing but apparently i just like cake. and stuffing myself to point of explosion. edited slices and explpsion. there must be a way to switch off the squiggly lines that come up while im wrting this. typing. i’m only typing this.

[lubdubsworld]

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC 

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content. 

Rating : 21+ 

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so ) 

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes] 

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond. 

Everyday began much the same. 

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work. 

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point. 

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes. 

But not today. 

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little. 

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?” 

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way. 

It had been eight years ago.

 A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg. 

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back. 

But the nerve damage stayed. 

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches. 

But it wasn’t something I could hide. 

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed. 

The girl who couldn’t walk. 

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place. 

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.” 

I smiled a little. 

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said . 

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly. 

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole. 

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran  marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered. 

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy. 

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large  portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed. 

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be. 

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company. 

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son. 

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing. 

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me. 

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad. 

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it. 

It was a brutal sort of realization. 

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change. 

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate. 

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed. 

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.  

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking. 

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.                                                              

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me? 

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone  and of course, how little he cared about me. 

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid. 

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him. 

There was a reason. There had to be. 

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to 

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days. 

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me. 

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant. 

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

 Finally. Now he can’t leave you. 

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in. 

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face. 

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here? 

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped. 

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me. 

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms. 

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the 

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?” 

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare. 

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively. 

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated. 

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned. 

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking. 

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists. 

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would. 

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes .  I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked. 

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away. 

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened. 

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt. 

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “ 

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly. 

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway. 

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

 Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it? 

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were  a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to 

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it. 

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day. 

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked. 

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch. 

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared , 

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously. 

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left. 

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either. 

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate. 

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place. 

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me. 

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting. 

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name. 

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning. 

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. 

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something. 

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed. 

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?” 

He exhaled sharply. 

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.” 

Jungkook nodded. 

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long. 

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled. 

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint. 

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened. 

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head. 

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore. 

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly. 

 Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

 I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out. 

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost. 

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath. 

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a  thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it. 

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face. 

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.” 

Silence. 

“Have you told your parents?” 

I exhaled sharply.

“No.” 

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him. 

“No.” I said softly. 

He sighed. 

“Alright. Should  I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?” 

I laughed. 

“How very practical of you..” i said. 

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

 This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly. 

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted. 

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us? 

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently. 

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?” 

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt. 

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.” 

I turned away. 

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly. 

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling. 

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down. 

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest. 

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing. 

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling. 

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought. 

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control. 

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : You Again

Summary: It’s been years since seeing each other and a lot has changed.

Genre: Fluff , Mentions of Smut

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,478

* * * * * * 

Green eyes discreetly watch their surroundings as the redhead makes her way down the street. She purposely avoids stepping too close to anyone.

Her hand shoves into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating phone. A blocked number displayed across the top of the phone telling her exactly who is calling.

Turning down an empty alley, she answers.

As expected it’s Fury requesting that she come in and she agrees without hesitation. The call ending just as she’s on the other side of the alley. 

The second someone collides into her shoulder she tenses and levels them with a glare. 

E/c eyes instantly flicker over her form,“ I’m so sorry I’m in a bit of a rush, are you okay?” The voice belonging to the offender sounds wildly familiar, causing the redhead to frown and look up at their face. 

The woman in front of her raises an eyebrow, a concernedly soft smile tugs at her lips.

“I-I’m fine.” Natasha says, the frown still deep on her face. 

Nodding, the h/c takes a small step to the side, and continues to rush down the sidewalk.

The encounter remains in Natasha’s mind until she gets to the compound. She just can’t shake how familiar the woman looked. Those eyes were ones she swears she’s seen before, that voice pulled at something seemingly buried deep in her memory.

It’s not until she’s standing in front of Fury himself that she let’s the thoughts ghost away.

“You took your sweet time Romanoff.” He says with a stone face, but knowing him for years allows Natasha to detect the teasing in his tone. 

Moving her curls over her shoulder with a shake of her head, the redhead smirks,“ I was in the city Nick.” 

He nods in understanding.“ Well now that you’re here, welcome to your new assignment,” he holds a file out to her.

She accepts it and flips it open. The frown from earlier returns as she looks at the list of recruits, the same familiar face from earlier stares back at her from one of the many pictures. 

“Don’t tell me all your Avenging has made you too hot for recruit training.” Fury teases once more.

“No just- where’s the file on recruit seventeen?” Her inquiry makes Fury raise his eyebrows, head raising in further curiosity. 

However he searches through the stack of files on his desk,“ lucky for you they haven’t been processed yet.” He hands her yet another file and she tries her best to refrain from frantically flipping it open.

The second she sees the name at the top her breath hitches. 

There’s no way it’s you. 

* * * * * * *

Perched behind the ledge on the building’s roof, Natasha once again peaks through the scope of her sniper. 

“I’d truly appreciate if you didn’t kill him. Not until he’s answered my questions at least.” 

The voice put Natasha on guard instantly. She can’t recall the last time someone had snuck up on her.

Spinning around, a stoic expression plastered on her face to hide her true emotions, Natasha comes face to face with a woman nearly four inches shorter than her. An amused smirk plays on the woman’s face and it instantly irritates Natasha. 

“I’m afraid your questions will have to go unanswered.” The redhead replies, just waiting for a challenge. 

The woman’s hands raise in a show of harmlessness,“ I won’t make your job harder, I imagine if you’ve been looking for him as long as I have this is a rare opportunity.” Nonchalantly she comes closer, raising a questioning eyebrow as she points at the sniper’s scope. Natasha frowns but nods, watching as the woman looks through it.“ What if you just took out his legs. I go in, ask my questions and you finish your job after I’m gone.”

“What makes you think I’m willing to help you?” 

“Isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do, help people?” An eyebrow raises at Natasha.“ Come on Black Widow, you scratch my back I scratch yours.” 

Green eyes narrow at the use of her alias. Something tells her that her identity was known before she was approached.“ Who are you?” She asks. 

“Ooo introductions, fun. I’m Y/n but you can call me Ghost.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.“ I work special operations for a private organization. As mentioned, I’m just here to get some answers. Your target is a scientist gone rogue, if I don’t speak to him a lot of people could get hurt, myself included.” 

Natasha’s head raises, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception.“ I know who he is.” It’s not surprising that someone else is after the doctor, just surprising that someone found him when she did. 

Taking a risk, unlike anything she’d ever do, she agrees to help. 

A plan quickly forms between the two of you that executes perfectly. You get your information and she takes out her target, both of you gone without a trace. 

“You know, we made a pretty decent team.” A teasing smile hits your lips as you glance at the woman beside you. 

“Don’t get used to it.” For the first time tonight, a smirk plays on Natasha’s lips. 

Chuckling, you nod,“ since we’ll never see each other again, how would you feel about a celebratory drink?”

Once again, she finds herself taking a risk.

* * * * * * *

Natasha pulls herself from that train of thought before she can dive into the remaining events of that night, though she can faintly remember the feel of your hands across her heated skin as whispers of her beauty left your lips. That wasn’t even the last night it had happened, what you did to her left her hooked.

So much so that it became a regular occurrence for her to end up in your bed when she was assigned to missions in Canada. Connecting with you in bed inevitably lead to a stronger connection emotionally. 

It stumped Natasha how you’d managed to get through her facades as if it were nothing. Even more so than that, she wasn’t expecting you to understand her so well, not even her closest friend, the man she considers her brother, understood her the way you did. 

But then the Avengers became a thing and she wasn’t sent on missions to Canada anymore. 

“When was she recruited?” Natasha asks, finally looking up from the picture of you.

“A few months ago, she found us and that,” the man chuckles impressively,“ that’s impressive on it’s own.”

With nothing more to say to Fury, Natasha nods non verbally accepting the mission, and leaves out. Heading straight to the elevators that would take her to the training floor. 

Common noises of the compound could be heard: another group of trainees outside with Sam and Steve, faint sounds of orders being shouted, occasional drilling sounds. 

Stepping into the training room, Natasha’s eyes scan the small group of recruits, and land on you. 

No wonder she wasn’t sure if you were familiar or not. Last time she saw you, you were shorter than her, just as skinny. Now you’re almost a foot taller, more meat on your bones as defined muscles. 

Your eyes land on her and you smirk, winking just barely. 

Of course you recognized her, only difference in her is the length of her hair. Those enticing green eyes are still just that, curves still accentuated by the leather catsuit, expression just as stoic as the night you met. 

Calling the recruits into order, Natasha runs through the basic entry speech, words of intimidation and motivation spoken to reach the hearts of those who aren’t ready and those born ready. She can easily detect who won’t last longer than a week, you aren’t one of them.

“Pair up, combat training begins now, if you can’t take down each other you have no business in the field.” She says, then looking you dead in the eyes,“ seventeen you’re with me.”

Nodding, you follow her over to a set of mats near the window, stepping up to face her head on. There’s just enough time to release a single breath and then she’s attacking. To anyone else she does so with movements as calm as the wind, each strike or counter move executed with precision. 

But you, you know her in a way nobody does, nobody ever has. It allows you to see the slight irritation in her punches, the anxiousness and curiosity in her eyes. It’s how you see that her guard is back up in regards to you. 

You let her get the upper hand, yes let, just so she can pin you to the mat, your arm behind your back in her grasp with her mouth to your ear. 

“Whatever you’re worried about Romanova, let it go. I’m not here with any bad intentions.” You speak, voice as smooth as the day she first heard it.

Her eyes narrow,“ so why are you here?” 

“To see you.” You smile only to grunt when her arm presses into the back of your neck.“ Okay okay. I left the last organization once it fell into the wrong hands, HYDRA’s hands. I found out through some reliable sources that the Avengers were hunting down HYDRA. After what they did to me, what they may still be doing to my friends,” Natasha’s grip has long since loosened, allowing you to shift slightly,“ I have to stop them.”

Releasing you completely, Natasha pops up and offers you a hand of assistance.“ What did they do to you?” 

A snort falls from your lips, your arms spreading out,“ don’t tell me it's been so long you don’t notice. Maybe if I-” playfully you squat down to the height you used to be. You smile when you see the slightly amused smirk on Natasha’s lips, accompanied by an eye roll.“ They made me Captain America 2.0 and at first I was with the idea, until I got word of what their true intentions were.”

“They wanted you to be a weapon.” She understands. If no one else ever will, she does. You nod solemnly and the ex-assassin sees how much you’re torn up by the corruption of the organization. It’s like looking in a mirror, that’s exactly how she felt about SHIELD collapsing. 

With present company around, you both agree to talk after training, Natasha telling you to come to her quarters after you’ve checked in. 

So for the time being you focus on training, nailing the hand to hand combat with Natasha before being handed over to Sam Wilson for basic exercises and a run around the compound, where you’re shown the trainee’s residence. 

After checking in with the agent in charge of your training group, you shower, change, and head to the main building in search of Natasha. 

It doesn't take long to find her since you follow her directions perfectly. 

Looking around at her luxury apartment like quarters, you can’t say you expected anything less. Of course Tony Stark made sure his teammates had more than adequate accommodations. 

“Always early L/n.”

The redhead’s familiar sultry voice grabs your attention, causing you to spin around from the window to look at her. 

She’s as gorgeous as she’s ever been. Admittedly the long hair suits her better, still damp from the shower she obviously just took and falling down her bare shoulders. Subconsciously your eyes trail down her tank top and yoga pants covered form. 

“Eyes up here.” She further teases and your eyes snap up to hers.

“Sorry it's just- you look good Romanova. Really good.” You say breathily.

The urge to just dive head first back into your charm hits Natasha hard. She’s seen you for all of a day and apart from your physical, you seem to be the same person she was falling for all those years ago. The only people she’s ever fallen for.

In the next few minutes, Natasha makes coffee, telling you to wait in the living room for her. Only to return shortly after to hand you a cup, and ease on to the sofa. 

Pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her butt, she faces you as you sit beside her, a noticeable distance between you two.

“How long?” She asks almost cautiously, clarifying when you raise your eyebrows.“ How long have you had your abilities?”

“Three years.”

A heavy sigh leaves her lips. Two years after she left HYDRA took over your organization and turned you into a super soldier. She can’t help but wonder what may have happened if she were still around. 

Would you have needed her comfort? Could she have stopped it?

Suddenly a weight lands on her knee, a glance down revealing your hand comfortingly resting there.“ There’s nothing you could’ve done. I wanted the serum, just not for the reasons they gave it to me.”

She silently nods, eyes casting back down to the hand on her leg. 

Whether or not she mentions it out loud, she missed your touch, even the ones as simple as this. Something about the way your touch affected her, be it arousing or calming, occasionally featherlight with the intent to cause laughter from the usually stoic woman. 

A mental sigh brings the thought to the forefront of her mind. It’s not just your touch, it’s you as a whole. Your energy, your aura, your personality, your smile. 

How she’d gone five years without you?

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she looks back up into your soft eyes, hurt hides in them that makes her frown and nod.“ Did you ever consider coming back? Or even contacting me?”

The look that crosses her face is answer enough but she still says,“ more often than you’d think. In the beginning, all I could think about was going back to you and never leaving. I considered finding you just to say goodbye.”

“Talked yourself out of it huh.” It’s a statement not a question. Another nod to how well you read her.“ Figured I was better off without you and the enemies you come with, even if my life was dangerous long before you.”

She shakes her head, chuckling at how easily you saw through her reasoning when she hadn’t even admitted it herself.“ Can I contribute that conclusion to you having mind reading abilities?” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better but it’s not true,” your thumb smooths across her knee in the same way it always had.“ I never had to read your mind.”

Much like she always had when it came to you, Natasha allows herself to take just one more risk. She let you in the first time, hopefully this time would end better or not at all.

Laying her hand over yours, her fingers wrap around your hand,“ I’m really glad to see you again.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[paperpocalypse]

significance.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,118 words

Warning: Swearing, violence

His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.

Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”

The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.

Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”

Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”

“Mean nothing to me.”

“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”

Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –

“We had no choice.”

“I know. But …”

“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”

“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”

The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”

At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”

“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”

She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”

Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.

“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.

Shit. Shit!

Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.

Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!

Fucking shit!

“Let her go.”

—

The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”

The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.

“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”

“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”

He looks at you. You blink.

Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.

Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.

Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.

You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.

“[Y/n].”

Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.

“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.

“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”

You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”

“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”

“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”

“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”

The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”

There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.

“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.

You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”

He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”

Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.

“The luckiest.”

—

He’s going to kill her.

Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.

“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”

“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”

“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”

Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.

You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.

“Don’t speak.”

“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”

“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”

“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”

“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”

Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.

Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.

“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”

Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”

“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”

What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.

“Why?” she whispers.

Come on …

“‘Cause you’re one of us.”

Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.

Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!

“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.

“No. It’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”

The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.

Five sees red.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

“STAY BACK!”

“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”

She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”

Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"

“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”

“It’s not about bringing them back.”

He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”

As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.

Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.

Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!

“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”

Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”

“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”

“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”

“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”

—

“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”

Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.

“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”

“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”

“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”

Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”

The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”

“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.

“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.

He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”

“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”

“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”

“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Five sighs.

“You’re so sappy, you know that?”

(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)

—

“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”

“Shut up.”

“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”

She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.

“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.

Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.

“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”

Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.

When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.

Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.

“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”

“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”

His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.

Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.

Gunshots echo throughout the barn.

—

You’re smiling.

—

He wakes up, gasping for breath.

“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”

Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.

But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.

Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.

She falls.

Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.

The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.

This is the end.

(This doesn’t have to be the end.)

… Five blinks, numb.

(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)

Unless …

(Seconds. Not decades.)

Seconds.

His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.

(C’mon, Five.)

Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.

It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.

Seconds.

Seconds.

He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.

Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.

Holy shit.

Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.

Got you, you son of a bitch.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”

The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”

Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.

The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.

Luther charges after her. “The case!”

“No!”

Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.

One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.

Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.

Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.

This is the end.

Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.

“Enough,” he says.

Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.

Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.

“Inte mer.”

He drops his weapon. No more killing.

—

After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.

As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.

“Five, it’s just a scratch.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.

Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.

“She could’ve killed you.”

“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”

Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”

“At your expense?”

Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”

All he can retort with is a displeased huff.

Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.

Suddenly, you chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”

“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.

—

“How bad does it hurt?”

Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”

“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”

A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.

… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.

In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.

“I love you.”

The words slip out, rough and unbidden.

Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.

But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.

“I love you too.”

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 10 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

“If you don’t talk to me, I’m not going to leave you my keys.”

Annabeth looks at Piper from behind the loom, glaring through the threads. “Then you won’t come back to ten bolts of fabric.”

In fairness, it was sort of an empty threat. Piper has all the good stuff: the surger, the embroidery machine, the industrial sewing machines, plus a million sources for fabric that aren’t Annabeth’s stress weaving. Annabeth only has her own shitty sewing machine at home that she’d gotten for Christmas when she was fourteen.

Also, Piper wouldn’t actually lock her out. She needs those fabrics.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Annabeth says. “If you stay, I promise to tell you all the gritty details.” She’s joking, but the second she says it, she’s hit with a strange wave of desperation.

She wants to tell Piper all the gritty details. How she had giggled and smoozed and looked so pretty on Luke’s arm, tattoos and undercut and everything else so carefully concealed. She never wanted to tell Thalia the gritty details. The dirty ones, sure, particularly when the dirty things didn’t involve Thalia’s beloved younger cousin. But she had spent two years, two hard painful years, hiding vast swaths of herself from Thalia.

She thought of the night of the gala, of Thalia telling her family she knew Luke from college. NYU. They’d been actors together.

Annabeth hadn’t been the only one hiding things.

It had stung, in all sorts of ways.

Piper stares, narrowing her eyes. “How dare you tempt me into giving up my creative retreat for gossip.”

Annabeth shrugs. “It’s one or the other.”

The glare at each other, stubborn as all hell.

Piper throws up her hands. “Fine. Just make my fabric and call Leo if you’re having another crisis.”

The truth is, she will tell Piper. Eventually. She knows she will. It will probably be in eight months, when she gets back, when hopefully the shame of her false life and the devastation of losing Percy has lessened, but she will tell her. But eight months is a long time. “I do have other friends, you know.”

“Then call Luke. Or Thalia.”

It takes absolutely everything Annabeth has not to wince at the names.

She would never have told Thalia. Not really. Even things like this, even if it hadn’t involved her. Thalia wasn’t… good at relationship stuff. Not like Piper. And she never knew all of Annabeth’s romantic history--not like Piper did, anyway.

And it wasn’t just romantic relationships.

Annabeth might have been able to share her pain, and share her pain with Thalia, but it had, in many ways, only been a surface level thing. Thalia saw her pain after Annabeth’s mom had rescinded her approval of her life, but she'd taken Annabeth’s silence as the end of the matter, and responded to it by acting out, and arguably drinking too much.

But they never talked about her mother. They never talked about Thalia’s, either, and if there was something Annabeth learned from Hazel’s gala beyond how unfairly handsome Percy was going to look in thirty years, it was that there was a lot going on there.

It is a little hurtful on reflection. Making her feel less close to Thalia, but also less guilty about what she never said. And less willing to accept her reactions.

Her emotions have been all over the place the last few weeks.

Piper notices, because of course Piper notices, but she is an angel, and has known her for a long time, so she doesn’t badger her too much. She also doesn’t mention that Annabeth’s measurements all seem to be off. Not even to say something about beauty at every size or her well publicized efforts for diverse bodies in fashion.

But it was still nice to spend time with her. It felt like the old days, staying up too late making the next thing in fashion, and then passing out together, surrounded by bobbins and bagels, Gossip Girl playing on TV.

It did make Piper’s impending departure that much harder, though.

Two weeks into November, she meets Piper and Leo for dinner, and then sees Piper off to JFK for her eight-month creativity retreat in Oklahoma. “You know, like how you decided you couldn’t have a doorman for creative reasons,” she’d said with a raised eyebrow when Annabeth had questioned the move. Piper likes to treat the last two years of Annabeth’s life like some sort of creative exercise. Her dad had done that too, once, when she bothered to answer his call.

Not that she’s not doing anything other than helping Piper pick stitches, and sewing hemlines Piper is too important to deal with herself. She wishes that earlier estimation had been true.

Since the gala she’s been living on Uber Eats at Piper’s, unless she gets bullied home, in which case it's the same but less varied selection with more meat, so the night out with Piper and Leo the night before Piper’s flight feels like a radical departure from the norm. Even though they just go to dinner.

Which does not stop her from feeling hungover the next morning.

“You had half a glass of wine last night,” Leo points out from the door of her bathroom.

“I remember,” she agrees when it lets up for a moment.

“If you get me sick,” he says, “I’m sending you the doctor's bill.”

“Fair,” she chokes out.

Leo doesn’t hug her goodbye, but he does tell her he hopes she gets better before heading back to Boston.

Annabeth, hugging porcelain, wishes she could go with him.

She was very seriously considering it a few days later. Magnus would take pity on her and Alex was always fun to hang out with. Plus, they’d probably think she was too pathetic to be called on her shit. She only did not make plans to go up to Boston because on Wednesday Luke texted her: Already a shit week, brunch this weekend? And she knew if she ran off to Boston, she wouldn’t leave Magnus and Alex’s guest room until they forced the issue.

But it would be nice to talk to someone in New York City who doesn’t hate her guts, she thought.

So, on Sunday morning, she throws up the wonton soup she’d ordered in for dinner the night before, gurgles some mouthwash, uses the expensive concealer to hide the dark circles, and over does the mascara in hopes that she mostly looks awake.

“You look terrible,” are the first words Luke says to her.

“You have no idea how to talk to women,” she says, slumping down across from him.

“I do,” Luke says, “I just know not to bother with you.” But he frowns at her, taking her in. She’s broken out a Chanel jacket, but she isn’t sure when she last washed these jeans. A real winning combo, her.

“But really,” Luke says, “you look miserable. Is it about what happened on Halloween?”

She shrugs. It isn’t not that. Percy’s words still circle through her head, his sad, defeated face as he bemoaned the, how did he put it? All the rich girls who fucked him to make a point. Made all the worse because she believes them. Probably not the same points as those princesses, but… probably not as different as she would like.

She wonders if Europe is full of very wealthy aristocratic women who are all secretly and shamefully still in love with Percy Jackson. And Frank Zhang.

It makes her feel hollow and nauseous all at once.

But she’s been feeling nauseous for weeks now, so at least it's not a new feeling. If it keeps up, she’s going to have to go to the doctor soon.

She hates going to the doctor. It feels like cheating when she just goes and pays and knows other people can’t. She had once lied to Thalia about getting money for a side gig, and then given her two hundred bucks for a trip to the clinic. Now that Annabeth has spent many hours in his cousin’s apartment, and has heard Nico talk about his yearly income on top of the money his dad gives him, she’s not sure how it came down to her.

“Not really,” Annabeth says, “I mean, I still feel just as terrible, but that’s mostly the problem. I feel sick.”

“It's been three weeks.” Luke looks genuinely concerned. “What’s going on?”

“I’m exhausted and nauseous all the time,” she says, groaning at the thought. She was okay right at this moment, but she knew it could come back at the drop of a hat.

Luke frowned at her. “That’s all?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“I mean…” He looked at her, his eyes gazing lower, to her body. Luke had never really come on to her in any kind of real way. But she’s not sure he’s ever looked at her with less lust than he does right at that moment.

It is calculating. She’s gained some weight, she knows. But if Luke points it out, she’s going to kick him in the nuts with her steel toed boots. Or maybe make him explain himself and his relationship with Thalia.

“Annabeth,” Luke says, his voice lower, a frown on his face, “please don’t freak out.”

She can feel her heart pick up, just a bit. “That’s a terrible place to start.”

“Have you been feeling… emotionally volatile lately? Having a lot of mood swings?”

She frowns. She’d maybe been crying a little more than normal at sentimental hulu ads, but she always has a soft touch for that kind of thing, and she’s going through some stuff. “I don’t think you should ask a woman that.”

“You are really not going to like my next question, then.” He leans close and says, “Are your… breasts tender?”

“You’re right, I don’t like that question,” Annabeth says, crossing her arms over her chest. Even though they are. “I don’t know why you thought that, and how you knew.”

Luke looks at her with such pity, she feels like she’s suddenly eighteen years old again, and crying on his couch at the end of freshman year about the greatest heartbreak of her life. (It had moved to second place. Lucky it. The boy in that bar had only been theoretical, mostly.)

Luke reaches out, grasping one of her hands, and for a second, Annabeth is sure he is going to tell her that she’s dying.

“Have you considered you might be pregnant?”

She yanks her hand away. “I can’t be pregnant,” she says. “I haven’t had sex in weeks.”

“Have you had your period since then?” Luke asks.

“Not that it's any of your business,” she says, “but I haven’t had one in years.” They do talk about sex sometimes, but periods had long been off the Luke table.

Luke grimaces. “Well, you’ve been sexually active recently…”

“It’s been more than a month!”

“When did you start getting morning sickness?” Luke asks “You were throwing up at Halloween.”

“That wasn’t in the morning,” she snaps, “and I feel fine now.”

“You know morning sickness doesn’t just happen in the morning,” Luke says. “And with the rest of your symptoms, well--”

She shakes her head, glaring at Luke. His judgement would have been better than his patient mansplaining. “You think I don’t use birth control?”

Luke shrugs a little. “I mean… you’re… not great at things like daily medication. That’s what happened last time. And if a condom broke or you didn’t use one…”

Last time. Oh, last time. Last time had been the worst four hours of her life, in between realizing that she hadn’t been remembering her birth control pills every day, that her period was a few days late, and that she’d definitely been having unprotected sex with that boy in Luke’s cohort who was probably too old for her. Last time had been her having a panic attack on Luke’s Cambridge apartment couch while a very reluctant Leo was sent to buy a pregnancy test or twelve, and Piper reassuring her via speaker phone that it would be ok, while Luke rubbed her back and reminded her to breathe.

“I do remember what happened last time,” she says. “That’s why I got an IUD. Which, if you don’t know, from all your girlfriends' pregnancy scares, has the same failure rate as permanent sterilization, less than one percent. So…” So it would be okay. She couldn’t be pregnant. That’s why it had been okay for Percy and Annabeth to start fucking without a condom.

“When was the last time you got a new one?”

“August.” She says, thinking back. She was almost sure. “I remember because it was before the Eta thing--Leo called me to tell me about the ceremony while I was at the gyno.”

“So you were distracted and being a bad patient when they were trying to put it in?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

But she won’t give Luke, of all people, the satisfaction. “They are professionals. They should know what they’re doing, even if I was on the phone.”

Luke gives her his most disappointed dad face. It is worse than Annabeth’s own father. “You’re the one who always tells me I need to not make people’s jobs harder by being a bad client,” he quietly reminds her.

She fucking hates him.

But despite herself, she pulls out her phone, and begins googling misplaced IUDs and pregnancy.  

They haven’t even ordered yet, but Luke is already standing up, probably based on the look on her face as she manages to fight through the dyslexia and figure out what it says. “Come on,” he says, helping her out of her chair, even though she’s not an invalid. She just might be pregnant.

She pushes that thought away as she follows Luke into a cab and then up to his apartment. He makes her some tea and hands her a banana while he goes to get her a pregnancy test, because Luke’s not quite shameless enough to have one at home. She waits for him in a living room straight out of American Psycho and reads up on IUD pregnancy complications online. Which she probably should not have done.

By the time Luke gets back, she is crying again. He’s gotten her 3 tests, which is very considerate of him, as she’s going to need them.

Walking into the bathroom, she’s shaking hard enough that she needs to brace herself on the wall. He lets her use the nice one off his bedroom, though it's not like she needs the jacuzzi tub.

When she’s done peeing, she sets a timer on her phone and sits on Luke’s bed. He tries to speak to her several times. She doesn’t respond.

It isn’t the longest ten minutes of her life, because the truth is, she knows.

She already knows.

When the alarm goes off, she shrugs off Luke’s arm and silently walks back into the bathroom.

Luke got a digital readout, because what else was he going to do. And so she looks at the little screen and just barely processes the word pregnant.

She doesn’t need to take the other tests. She doesn’t need confirmation or to be convinced.

She reaches down and pressed on her lower abdomen, lifting her shirt. She had noticed a slight change. But she’d also changed a lot of her daily routine lately, had eaten a lot more ice cream. Right now, she can’t see any kind of bump, not really, but she can see a shift. Something flat gone fuller.

Annabeth is pregnant.

Annabeth is pregnant with Percy’s baby.

Percy’s baby.

She bursts into tears all over again.

An eternity later, there is a knock on the door.

“Annabeth,” Luke calls, “can I come in?”

She manages to choke out a yes.

Luke finds her sitting on the edge of the tub. He looked at the test still sitting on the counter.

“Let me make a call,” he says, sitting next to her, resting a hand on her arm. “I know a doctor. He can get you a pill or maybe even see you if you need it. Probably today or tomorrow. We can get this all taken care of and then I’ll buy you ice cream and we can watch Legally Blonde, and you can complain about how it doesn’t accurately reflect the admissions process.”

Normally Annabeth would pre-complain, and point out that given Elle’s GPA, LSAT, and extracurricular activities, she would have been a shoe in for her program, and the movie was dismissive of her prior academic achievement. But she’s too busy parsing what Luke is saying.

He squeezes her hand in support. “It's going to be okay,” he says, sweetly.

“No.” She says. But not because it won’t be okay. “No, I’m not going to have an abortion.”

“It's okay,” Luke promises. “I would never judge you. And no one else would ever have to know. This isn’t something you have to do.”

“I know that,” Annabeth says. “I don’t have to do anything.” She detangles her hand from Luke’s and rests it on her stomach, where her uterus waits under her skin. “I want to do this.”

Luke looks at her hand. “Poseidon Olympianides’ son?” he asks. “That’s the father?”

She nods.

Blowing out a breath through his teeth, he sighs. “Well, you’ll be able to get some good child support out of him at least. That family is loaded.”

“Don’t say that,” she nearly screams, and Luke actually jerks back a little. “He doesn’t have any money. He’s his dad’s bastard kid,” she says, feeling a little bad about revealing his family history, but knowing that the word would spark something in Luke. “I don’t know if I’m even going to tell him.”

It feels like something cheap and shallow, trapping a man with a lie, then a baby.

She’s still crying and tentatively, Luke reaches out and wraps his arms around her, pulls her to him.

“Come on,” he says, pulling her up. “You still need ice cream and a movie.”

Annabeth cries. And she doesn’t fight him, but it feels so strange. Half way through her Caramel Sutra and the Legally Blonde proshot, she realizes what’s different.

For the first time since Percy walked out of her apartment without a good-bye kiss, Annabeth Chase is happy.

She’s pregnant with Percy Jackson’s baby.

She’s going to have Percy Jackson’s baby.

She’s not sure if she’s ever heard anything as wonderful in her entire life.

And if she’s going to be worthy of it, worthy of her baby, then she’s going to have to get her shit together.

[seodami]

Gym surprises | KTH

Genre: Fluff, simping, (((suggestive???no?)))

Warning: thirsting over muscles, being awkward, mentioning of sweat

Word count: 1376

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader (gn)

Note: so so I just imagined going to the same gym as Taehyun after watching talk x today and he would honestly be a great gym buddy fr love his determination! Go go Taehyun!✨ anyways please don’t sexualise him I just think he has been working great on himself and has great physics! He is really working hard!

Main Masterlist

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, over the bridge of your nose onto your fitted red sport shirt. You quickly let go of the handles, belonging to the hanging leg raise workout equipment of your local gym. You tried standing.

Your feet were still wobbly from the previous exercise, now having to mainly focus on the intense pain in your abdominal muscles. With a quick movement you grabbed your small towel and dabbed away the fresh sweat on your face. A long sip of water closely followed.

Still with heavy breathing, trying to calm yourself down, you took a glance around the almost vacant gym. There were not many people around at this hour. Most people decided to come near the afternoon.

There was an older woman running on the track mill, humming softly to the tunes played from her headphones you believed. She obviously tried to block out the fast energizing sounds from the gyms speakers. You never minded them, being too occupied with your own thoughts anyway.

Further on the side, there was a very muscular man, working further on his biceps and triceps, even though they probably already had the size of your head. There were some actual gym monsters here. You and your noodle arms couldn’t even dare to compare. But you still wanted to keep fit and sporty, not being the next bodybuilder.

Your eyes moved towards the fully mirrored wall. Your eyes froze upon a head full of reddish hair. And an extremely attractive backside of a young man, probably around your age. Instead of being the decent human being, you should probably be, your eyes watched attentively how his muscles tensed at the impact of the weightlifting. His arms were smaller than the guy before but they looked just right on him. You already admired his hard working spirit.

To put it into words: this guy was absolutely goddamn attractive in your eyes. He had a determined look on his face, his dyed sweaty hair was sticking to his forehead. Besides that, his facial features were just heavenly. Eyes as big as coins and a defined jawline, sharp nose.

When your eyes met his suddenly in the mirror, it struck to you how long you must’ve stared at the stranger. You immediately averted your gaze, anywhere else. Oh look, what a nice water dispenser and wow, nice sweat stain on your shirt. The incoming blush on your face didn’t make it any easier.

Suddenly remembering you still haven’t finished your set, you moved up your recently used machine, propping your back up against the backside and started moving your legs upwards. You just prayed that he didn’t just catch you staring at him so obviously and that wasn’t looking at you now. Why was your life so humiliating sometimes?

When you finished your set, you quickly moved machines, just thinking about moving out of his eye sight radius. To your disadvantage, you didn’t think clearly about where to go next, resulting in you awkwardly trying to find out how to work this machine in particular, you never happened to use before. Really humiliating Y/N, actually!

No matter how hard you tried to move it, it didn’t budge by the impact. Not even an inch. This was just your lucky day. You were on the verge of quitting this unexplainable weird machine and moving on, when you suddenly heard a voice next to you.

“Do you maybe need help with this?” Your head whipped in lightning speed towards the source of the soft voice, to your shock swing the blond haired attractive guy in front of you. He now had a grey towel hanging from his shoulder and a water bottle in his hand. The strands of his hair were still sticking on his damp forehead. You nearly choked from pure air, being in such close proximity to him. From up close, he looked even more handsome.

Your eyes went wide, struggling to say anything. Your head was like cotton candy, nothing wise seemed to come out. You remembered faintly croaking out a strained and way too high ‘yes please’, when he started to explain you what you did wrong. You subconsciously held your breath, having him bend over to the front of the machine to adjust the settings more fitting to you.

“It’s a tricky machine, honestly. I wouldn’t have understood it either without a coaches help.” He explained, his hand now resting on his hip bone. You noticed the thick veins along his strong muscular arm, making you literally wanna hold onto them.

You looked up to him again. He had a gentle smile on his face. “Is it now better? You need to move this up in order to begin- yes just like that - perfect” he watched you finally being able to move on your own. You sighted in relieve, giggling slightly in embarrassment.

“Thank you, oh god I must’ve looked so embarrassing.” He looked down swiftly on the ground before shaking his head laughing lightly. “No it’s all good. Not many people use this machine in the first place. I’m glad to help.”

“You didn’t say it wasn’t embarrassing.” You chuckled, nervously trying to avert your gaze onto his shoes. He giggled childlike, not fitting to his first impression exactly, but still making you feel giddy. “Well, it looked a bit funny but it was cute.” He grinned cheekily. You flushed even harder, trying to persuade yourself that it was only looking like you just had finished a heavy workout.

“Hey, if you have any more questions about equipment or else wise, I’m right over there. Don’t feel shy to ask.” He pointed pack to the place in front of the mirror, he was standing before. His other hand reached for his neck as he send you a last smile, seeing as you nod and thank him again.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the typical symptoms of an incoming crush. In the corner of your eye you saw him get into position again. Your eyes met again for a swift moment before you both looked away. Were you really that easy to be swooned? Yes you were.

Half an hour and three more exercises machines later, you finally figured out a plan inside your tiny head. You couldn’t just let this chance slip away like the other ones. You were a goddamn strong woman who can pursue her own desires. And you were feeling surprisingly bold after this small encounter, so why not giving it a shot? The worst thing could happen was that you need to change gyms. You could live with that.

So after finally collecting all your courage you possibly could have, you went to the counter, asking for a piece of paper and a pen, quickly writing your phone number and name in large letters.

With a last deep breath, your feet carried you over to the other end of the gym, where the attractive boy was now working hard on the lat pulldown machine. Standing in front of him, you suddenly felt shy again, twiddling with your fingers.

He stopped to greet you again with a bright smile. Without much overthinking, you pressed the small piece of paper in his sweaty hand. He looked up to you with big sparkling eyes as if you should elaborate.

“Just...just you know, if I need anymore advices.” You managed to say, feeling your cheeks warm up once again. Before he could reply anything, you already muttered out a high pitched ‘bye’ and turned around to head towards the changing cabins. You gathered your belongings and left without making a scene or embarrassing you even further. Your whole car ride home was filled with doubtful discussions with yourself.

What you didn’t saw, was his relieved gentle smile after he opened the folded piece of paper, finding your phone number and name on it. Y/N...

So instead of having a shower on top of his priority to do list after going to the gym today, it changed to texting your number with the best feeling of confidence in his system.

[itstheimpossibledream]

Only A Play-Part 2

Word Count:3053

Pairing :  AU Henry & FemBlack! Reader

Warning:Angst, soon to come Smut

Summary: Y/n and Henry still trying to navigate their mutual attraction but, their job is making it harder to deny.The next chapter is already written, there’s sex in it I swear.

"So today I want you guys to focus on working with Dana" Steve began 

"She's our resident intimacy coordinator, I've already gone over the scene with her and she's going to make sure it goes over as smooth as possible. We're going to get her assistance a couple times during this process but today we're going to empty out the studio so have fun, play and get to know eachother. Today is just a day for you two to find some comfortable physicality with eachother." Stephen winks at you and then begins ushering tech and the few ensemble members out of the room. Friend or not, anyone attracted to men could not deny that Mr. Cavill was absolutley gorgeous, as wasted as it may be. In all honesty you hadn't spoken much aside from that snowy day outside the studio. He did begin to bring coffee and Kal to rehearsals and you tended to find the snuggly, bear of a dog always next to you when you were waiting for a cue but, it wasn't as though the two of you had had a heart-to-heart and resolved any of these unspoken differences. And as far as the scene was concerned your heart was doing backflips unable to tell which action would come more naturally, to kiss him or to hit him.

"So I'm seeing a lot of passion here! O !Please remove your shoes for today's lesson." Dana cuts in breaking the silence. Both of you look down at the wood paneled floor. Now was the time where you really had to work, you think to yourself while slowly slipping out of your shoes. 

“Unfortunately Dana, “ Henry begins, immediately charming the brakes off of her. 

 “ At this point of the play I believe her character is quite conflicted, as a woman she obviously wants to give in to him but, at the same time she knows she'll be letting down her family and he will too, they'll live a life with no family outside of the one they create for themsevles. It's quite powerful.But, a tough emotional point to bring oneself to."

"That may be how Christopher sees it -" you snap referring to his character. You are suddenly aware that you sound way more upset then you had intended to. "She doesn't want have sex with him because if she does she's giving up more than him,she always has.That's the whole story of their relationship. " you say, allowing your words to be the dam between the flood of  frustration you want to direct his way.

"So as you said we both have a lot of emotions here, we need to work on honing them into something that could potentially work itself into this explosion of passion okay?" Dana jumped excitedly. She looks exactly like what you would have expected from an intimacy coordinator.She wore a long moo-moo like dress and chunky amber jewelry.She smelled of a ton of weed, not as though you were really complaining but, it all added to the aesthetic that had washed into the room on her heels as she had entered. 

"I want to begin with an exercise- Mr.Cavill I know you've done scenes like this before so please work with me if I touch on some things you've already heard." she says leaning over and squeezing his forearm while winking. Great even the sex scene coordinator thought he was hot.

" I'm going to give you the space to choose but I want you both to just slowly go through the scene and when you hit a line that feels acceptable you remove an item of clothing. On stage you've both agreed to full nudity but today I just want to push you to do what feels comfortable!" Quietly you both moved to the opposite ends of the room, hitting your marks to begin the scene. You said your first few lines focusing on washing the dishes, the studio didn't have running water so it ended up being more like mime washing dishes. You were so much more professional than you were proving to be in this moment but, the second Henry removed his shirt you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. On his first line?Really? That was so like him ,so pompous.  And even more upsetting how ridiculously attractive he was. God was his body sculpted from marble? Nothing but pure muscle rippling evenly, he seemed somehow tanned, despite the blistering New York winter. You focused hitting your next line perfectly ,completely unphased by his topless body.With the following delivery you shrug out of your jacket, revealing your tank top. Thank christ you had expected to have a hook-up with a bartender after today's rehearsal. You weren't in full lingerie but, you were definitely in a matching set. A matching set that happened to make your ass look great. You held that in your back pocket, knowing you had every right to parade about, naked in the same room as someone who was a shoe-in to be named 'World's Sexiest Man'. You went for it, pulling off your tank top with your next line. This is when your blocking got physical. You had run this scene before but, running it scantily clad was an entirely different matter. You were supposed to  straddle him. That seemed simple enough. You stood before him, gingerly sliding one knee up onto the couch and then swinging another to the other side of him. 

"Are you sure?" he whispered, low and slow. You hated how during the scenes he actually had moments of completely brilliant acting where you could see an amazing talent. Then, you felt his hand on your knee. It was absurdly large and warm, so warm. You froze. You didn't want to do it but, you froze.Your eyes flitted all over the room, desperately looking for a way out , to end the scene. You feel his hand move up your thigh, it's the blocking, he's just doing his job, you remind yourself. But, something in you makes you afraid of his touch. You look into his eyes and you can tell he's noticed you shrinking under his touch. He clears his throat and drops character.Changing his intention toward Dana.

"I'm sorry can we start over? I completely forgot my line." he smiled at her.

"Sure! That was really great I think just focus a bit more on your intention. It's funny I think you guys had more sexual tension at the start of the rehearsal than at the top of the scene!" she laughed to herself. "Okay, let's take a step back, relax , stand up !  Stand up!" she says, jumping to her feet. The two of you peeled yourself apart from each other and you found yourself looking down at your perfectly perky breasts feeling more insignificant than ever. You could feel your face heating up by his move to take the blame for the scene. It was much more gentlemanly than you were expecting from him. 

"How about we take a break and come back in twenty? She suggested after a few warm-ups of jumping around and saying self -assuring mantras out-loud. After half a bottle of water, redressing, boring stretches and pretending to avoid eye-contact with Henry your rehearsal was finally up.

“ Oookay guys good stuff. Goooood stuff ! So for the weekend tomorrow I know Stephen had you signed up for a few meet and greets and publicity shoots but, I actually think that if you guys could set aside the time that you do spend together to get physically comfortable it could do a lot for your onstage comfortability. Hand holding, general petting or stroking, you may even want to try a light sitting on the lap, just anything really to get you more used to one another. This relationship needs to seem as effortless and fluid as possible.” She smiled “ also note that my number is free for 24/7 communication so if something comes up for you emotionally in this work feel free to get in contact with me, even if it's just to chat my door is always open!" she beams,collecting her water bottle and other assorted scripts she was reading through at the beginning of the rehearsal. 

Stephen reenters and, he and Dana go to the corner of the room to talk. 

You work your back pack onto your shoulder and begin to head for the door.

"Wait up!" Henry calls out from behind you. You whirl around and almost bump into him. His sweatshirt is baggy but unzipped enough that you can see the small tufts of hair playing at the tops of his chest, his baseball cap pulled way down over his forehead. Those blue eyes shined bright from the shade under that baseball cap. 

"What are your plans for tonight ?" he asked, slightly exaggerating his breathing from the light jog across the room. You searched the room awkwardly,looking for an out. What is it with him? Why did he think, especially after the last time the two of you had spent alone together, that you would ever want to be included in his plans for the night.  

"Perfect Idea!" Stephen exclaims from across the room. "You guys use tonight to bond as much as possible before tomorrow afternoon's interview session yeah?" 

"Uhhhh sure ." You agree, not wanting to seem like the town buzz-kill. You turn shrugging towards Henry. He smiles, seeming almost relieved that you agreed without putting up a fight, as Steve moves to rejoin Dana in the back

"So uhhh my place or yours?" he asks in a half hearted joke. 

"Uhhh" you definitely don't want him at your place, where there is laundry strewn all over the apartment . 

"I mean I have to feed my dog and run some errands anyway so my apartment would be ideal."

"O great! Okay yeah , let's do that then." you pushed on the door and headed for the elevator, the ride down to the lobby of the rehearsal studios was entirely silent, filled with awkward shuffling and avoided eye contact. Only punctuated by a short uber black ride in silence to an apartment on the upper east side. Ofcourse he lived on the upper east side.The doorman was polite as you followed behind him, clearly him bringing strange women up to his apartment was not entirely unheard of. Once in the room, you asked where to sit your bag down, your afternoon ritual usually included a trip to the gym, that is what had become your me -time since college. He motioned you to his guest room, in which you were shocked,contained a shower, granted the entire tiny room was a shower but, being a guest in New York with your own bathroom was definitely not an everyday thing. Especially, for a little black girl from the south. 

"Is it okay if I shower before we grab dinner?" you ask.

"Oh! You wanted to grab dinner?I was just going to order chinese."

"That's fine! " you ungracefully exclaimed from the other room.Shit. Hopefully he didn't think you really meant grab dinner like on a date.

"Do you have a special order?"he asked, appearing in the doorway. You turned around slightly alarmed that his voice had gotten that much closer.

"I love everything!" you smile, he looked down at the floor nervously. "but shrimp lomein is my favorite." you say unzipping your jacket and placing it on the bed, your bra was working overtime holding you up and you made a mental note to order another one exactly like it. He cleared his throat and there was a second of silence. You could feel his eyes slowly darting around the room trying not to look at your chest. As actors, especially ones who have to do nude scenes together you didn't think it would be a big deal to him that you were getting ready to shower. You had mentioned on the elevator earlier that you had wanted a shower. Taking off your jacket just seemed like the right next step, nothing to feel weird over. 

"Sounds Good!" he exclaims, finally showing you his full smile, for the first time since the rehearsal process had started. God he was a sight, he had removed his hat and you noticed how perfectly his hair curled onto his forhead.It was adhered by sweat but, not the weird homecoming- football helmet sweat, you get from your highschool crush. This was a grown-man glistening infront of you. It sounded ridiculous, the situation itself was ridiculous,why was he even sweating ?

"Sorry-I uh- I didn't know you were showering right now. We can talk about it later if you-"

"It's fine" you say, stepping in and  laying a hand on his forearm.His eyes shot down to your hand then immediately back to your eyes, sure to avoid seeming like he was staring at your breasts. He clears his throat again and you can smell the faint cologne on him as you watch his adams apple bob. The air in the room changes and you feel him shift away from you. You mumble a thanks for the dinner as you hear  him close the door between you. 

Your shower was perfectly steamy and warm, much unlike your brooklyn apartment that had charm and character but, a much worse hot water heater. As you washed away the dirt from the day you tried not to think of Henry, of what he must think of you for absolutely chewing him out just a few short weeks ago. He seemed to have gotten over it but, at the same time perhaps he was just trying to be the better person. As much as you hated to admit it he had completely accepted your scathing critique and was now treating you like the highest paying guest at a five-star resort. You turned down the hot water, basking in the last bit of steam and enjoying the first true silence of your day. Reaching an arm up, you grab a towel, wrapping it around your body. You stretched out for another towel that you had laid across the sink, somehow your legs completely slipped from under you and you crashed to the floor,grabbing the sink for leverage. Really all you did was knock over some toiletries that you had put on the sink earlier and you could feel your cheeks heating up. It was weird to be embarrassed in a room by yourself but, you knew he must've heard something. You sat on the floor, allowing your chin to rest on the top of your knees. You desperately needed a moment to breathe. Life had been so stressful lately, and you possibly had let off a bit too much steam on him. He was actually a nice guy, sure the accessible information on him didn't make him look amazing but when it came down to it once you explained how you felt about him he had worked so hard to seem normal and accessible. For whatever reason  he seemed to respect your opinion as an artist. The knock at the door kept you from becoming completely lost in your thoughts. It knocked again and you could hear his feet shuffle on the hard wood outside of the door, the nails of the large dog clicking the floor next to him. 

"You okay in there?" It seemed earnest enough.

"Yeah!" you called back "My mind has really been somewhere else lately, I just umm lost my footing- that's all." 

"Okay well let me know if you need anything." It was cheery but helpful. Once you heard him close the door to your room you got up and got dressed as quickly as you could, fumbling to get sweatpants on without accident. Today was definitely not your most agile day. You finally let your hair down and put on just the smallest amount of mascara to make your eyes pop.It was an effortlessly hot look that had worked for you for years, especially in college. You closed the door behind you and gently padded your way to the kitchen. The apartment was cozy, Kal was curled up on a rug in the corner of the room while Henry portioned the food onto pristine white plates. You noticed the baseball cap was back on and at least thanked god for giving you that small assistance in removing the temptation to touch him by running your fingers through his hair.

"So you order takeout but refuse to eat it out of the container?"you asked jokingly as he whirled around from the counter.That smile appeared on his face again and you knew you were putty in his hands,The way he filled out his navy blue t-shirt was unbelievable.

"It's less calories this way." he winked. Thank god he had a sense of humor.You returned his smile now sitting in the chair closest to the kitchen. The conversation veered from workout routines, to body image stress as a performer and then back to work. You found yourself sucking a noodle wishing he'd bring up something else. You absolutely could not do a night of niceties and small talk at this point in your life but, you also weren't ballsy enough to walk right up to him and tell him you wanted him.

"Y/N?"he asked

"Yeah?" you jumped being pulled once again from you daydream

"Do you wanna run lines or watch tv or something?"he asked shyly

"Yeah I mean -we can run lines if you want I just thought we were supposed to bond by talking or something." you laughed trying to take the edge off the awkwardness of the scenario.

"Well what do you want to talk about ?' he asked, leaning back in his seat, baseball cap over his eyebrows.His jawline was so sharp it could cut ice, it dawned on you that he was actually much too goodlooking for his own good. 

You picked up a fortune cookie at the center of the table and tossed it to him.

"Read me your fortune."you smiled seductively. He raised his eyebrows at you but, something must have convinced him because he simply shook his head and said.

"Okay."

[writer-panda]

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 3/Leaps in logic (and over the edge of the rooftop)

Chapter 1  -|-  Previous -|- Next

---------

Adrien’s day wasn’t good at first. Okay, it was straight-up terrible. For most, their wedding is supposed to be a happy day. Or at least a reason for celebrations. Adrien? He couldn’t even hope for a cake since it would ruin his model body.

For the last several months, his father was working him into an early grave. The extra photo sessions, harder classes, new exercise regime… and Lila. The last one was terrifying. 

Adrien tried to hold onto hope that his father would in the end cancel the whole affair. That he would drop the ridiculous notion of wedding or at least push it back. The young model wasn’t sure exactly why was his father so insistent on pushing for the wedding. He repeatedly asked himself if Lila was blackmailing his father, but it was hard to think of anything that his father possibly could be blackmailed with. Adrien spent countless hours wondering if his father had some dark secret, but it didn’t fit the man. 

Did the designer have an affair with Nathalie? No… he already got angry about the suggestion once. And even if so, it wasn’t something that he would be so ashamed about. 

Was his father doing some illegal business dealings? It was somewhat possible, but what? It would need to be something big. Something extremely big. 

Thinking rationally, he had no idea what could it be…

What could be so big that it was worth more than the happiness of his only son?

--------

When one looks at all that, being kidnapped right at the altar was almost… nice. Sure, Adrien had been dragged by a sentient pile of mud into the sewers and then carried to some unknown location. Sure, his beautiful suit was ruined and all the hard work Marinette put into her work was irreversibly wasted. 

But, he was not married to Lila. 

The pile of mud dragged him deep into the sewers until they found a ladder leading up. It appeared to be grievously damaged, with several steps in the row removed. Adrien didn’t protest much when he was lifted up and into the place above. 

The place turned out to be a quite comfy flat. It was overall smaller than Adrien’s room back in Paris, but it felt more welcoming. It only had one big room, divided in half with a plywood panel. In the first ‘room’, there was a couch, a small table with three chairs, a tv on a cabinet, and two armchairs. It all appeared to be old and worn out. The second part held two beds (one without any mattress), a desk with an old computer, and a kitchen annex. It was… nice. Adrien almost liked it better than the big, sterile manor. 

The pile of mud seated him on one of the chairs before condensing into humanoid form. Slowly, his body turned human and in the end, he looked almost exactly like the wedding officiator. The man pulled his phone and sent some text before turning to Adrien. 

“Do you want something to eat?” He asked, walking over to the kitchen annex.

“Um… anything would do.” Adrien hesitantly spoke up. He was only slightly scared. Honestly, first, he is saved from the wedding and now he is given free food? Yes, purr-lease!

“Vegan or non-vegan?”

“I would kill for a fat, juicy steak…” Adrien remembered his last photo session, which was advertising the summer collection. One of the photos had him standing over the BBQ grill. The smell of the food being prepared almost made him salivate back then. 

“Ah… The actor’s diet?” His kidnapper/savior asked, giving him a knowing look at the same time.

“Yeah… I’m a model, but I heard it’s the same” Adrien corrected. 

“I’ll get you something. We need to wait anyway.” 

Adrien chose not to speak to the man while he was cooking. It was still a bit awkward. He was being kidnapped.

It didn’t matter. The meal was too good to complain. Who cares about kidnapping when one is given some meat. It was a light meal, probably not to upset his stomach, but it was still more than he hoped for that day. 

Of course, it couldn’t be that pretty.

The moment Adrien finished with the first piece of meat and was reaching for another, the doors were violently kicked and a man entered. He was dressed in a red bodysuit with silverly metallic elements. His helmet had one eye replaced with a red… monocle?

The explosion was quickly followed by a single gunshot. The moment it sounded, Clayface (because that was the name of the ‘pile of mud’) became frozen in place. Literally. He was covered head to toes in ice.

“My steak!” Adrien cried as he was being dragged away by the newcomer. 

They were already away when Clayface managed to break through the ice. He wanted to pursue them, but his phone rang suddenly, giving him a pause.

“Who is this?!” He snarled, irritated at the interruption.

“I was led to believe you have what I wanted.” The voice on the other side growled and Clayface paused. It sent shivers down his figurative spine. His employer sounded dangerous. 

“Ah… Yes… There’s been a… complication.” He stuttered, hoping it wasn’t too apparent. Whoever was on the other side made a terrifying first impression.

“What do you mean ‘complication’?” They hissed. Clayface stumbled and almost dropped the phone. He knew the employer was someone powerful, but it was a whole new level of scary. Sure, he was technically a mercenary, but until today his biggest job was some light security gig. This was supposed to be his way of reinventing himself into part of the major league. But this was being much more overwhelming. 

He quickly got to the point where his employer should’ve been somewhat satisfied and hanged up quickly. He had to get the boy before he became the target himself.

----------

Elsewhere, Adrien was starring into a pair of curious sea-green eyes.

When his new kidnapper brought him to the apartment and tied him to the chair, Adrien was still bemoaning the loss of his steak. He disliked the lack of freedom, but he was still feeling safer than with Lila and his father. Objectively looking at it, he knew it was wrong, but he preferred to be kidnapped. 

To his surprise, the kidnapped tossed him and the chair into some spare room of the flat they were in when the doorbell rang. There were also some curse words, but Adrien chose to disregard them.

It took a very energetic girl (about two years younger than him) all five minutes to figure out he was in that room. Not that the man made it particularly hard, leaving the doors half-open and all that.

She leveled her head so that they were on an equal level and stared into his face with an inquisitive glare.

“Daddy! You promised not to work on our day together!” She turned to the man and complained. “You clearly kidnapped him!”

“I’m really sorry, cupcake. I didn’t plan it. The time zone changes can really mess up with the calendar.”

“If it helps, this is better than the alternative.” Adrien smiled shyly.

“How is being tied to the chair good?”

“It’s better than being forced to get married.” The boy deadpanned.

“Fine.” She then turned to her father “But you will untie him. He can join us in our board game evening.” She declared imperatively.

“You won’t try anything, right?” The man glared at Adrien, who shrugged (as much as the binds allowed him). 

“I quite like it here. I could do with some water, but it’s really better than how the day was supposed to go.”

The man sighed and walked over to the boy. The rope fell to the floor and Adrien could move freely. Yet, he didn’t immediately move. He did try to get up, but the world swirled and blackness consumed his consciousness.

----------

When he woke up, he was once again faced with a set of sea-green eyes. The girl apparently liked to stare at faces in close quarters. Not that Adrien complained much as long as she didn’t actually touch him. He was used to the attention. 

“You must’ve been really tired. Daddy said he almost wanted to get you to a hospital.” That woke Adrien very quickly.

“No hospital!” He launched himself to sit straight up and almost crashed with the girl. Luckily, she moved out of the way. Otherwise, her father might’ve actually sent him to the hospital. Probably in pieces too. 

“Don’t worry.” Speaking of the devil, the man entered the room with a platter full of fast food and a glass of water. There was a hamburger there!

“Zoe. Please leave us alone for a moment. I need to discuss some things with Mr. Agreste.”

“Sure. But remember you promised not to hurt him. And we promised him board games.” She reminded her father before happily skipping out of the room. 

Once she was out, the man handed him the platter and Adrien practically leaped to devour the food. 

“So…” His kidnapper/temporary caretaker started awkwardly. “If it’s any help, I’m sorry for kidnapping you.” 

“Dot wowwy” Adrien dismissed him with a mouth full of burger. His father would lock him up for months if he saw him, but the boy was way past caring about it. He gulped before continuing though, as it was a shame to waste anything of the tasty goodies. “Seriously, you guys are making me a favor.” 

“Huh?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah! If not for this,” he gestured vaguely around the room, albeit it was clear he meant kidnapping, “I would’ve probably been married already.”

“Ah… And I guess the wedding wasn’t your idea.” It wasn’t a question. Deadshot (because he was the kidnapper if it wasn’t yet obvious) had some experience with runaway brides. Grooms escaping arranged marriage were rarer, but not unheard of. He used to take those tasks without remorse. At least until one time, when he tracked the bride, instead of an adult woman like usual, he found a pre-teenage girl. She couldn’t have been older than his own daughter at the time. 

Let’s just say that he failed to deliver that contract. Or any similar in the future. 

“Sir?” Adrien asked once he finished the meal.

“Yeah?”

“Could I get some more?”

“In a moment. Let what you ate settle down first.” He scolded him lightly, his parental instincts kicking in. “So, do you have any idea who might’ve wanted you kidnapped?”

“Not really… Only Marinette and Gerard cared about my opinion on this matter. And neither is the kind that would arrange a kidnapping.” He did his best not to think about his past as Chat Noir. No one but Ladybug knew, but his Lady wasn’t someone that would get involved with criminals. And even then, he doubted she could afford mercenaries. He always thought they were expensive. Could someone else figure out he used to be Chat Noir?

“Hm…” Lawton focused for a moment. “And what about The Seamstress? She is a completely new player that came out of nowhere. I suspected she might’ve had a personal connection to you. What about your father? Could someone want to get back at him? Especially someone with that name?”

“You do know what my dad does for the living?” Adrien deadpanned. 

“Yes, but did he anger someone? Enough that they would want to ruin him?” The man pressed. 

“It would be easier to list people he didn’t anger. My father is not… not the easiest to be around.” The light that was in the boy’s eyes just moments ago dimmed slightly. “Why are you asking all this?” He suddenly perked up and met the gaze of the mercenary. 

“Honestly, I really dislike the jobs involving kids. I thought that you were just another bratty teenage star that got his way with the wedding. A kid wanting to be treated like an adult. Now… now I can’t with clear conscience return you or deliver you.”

Adrien held back any witty remarks about hired gun having a conscience. “So… I’m living with you?”

“Sadly, no. I’m not around often enough and there is still a price on your head.” Lawton pulled out his phone and carefully read through something. “The more I think of it, the more it looks like you are not the most important part.”

That got Adrien’s attention. His own brain started to work overtime to get the meaning. “What?”

“The wording of the contract. ‘Grab from the wedding’, ‘possibility of further assignments’, ‘very public’… and the price is unreasonably high for such a simple task. It appears as if whoever The Seamstress is wanted a show. Like she wanted to recruit whoever brought you in. It appears as if she was setting up some sort of competition over who brings you to her.”

“But why me?” Adrien ran through ideas, but only him being Chat Noir would make sense in the long run. 

“Publicity. Your old man made sure the wedding was the event of the decade.” The merc simply shrugged. “If they wanted to announce their entrance to the big league, they would pick the biggest, most prominent target.” 

“Figured father is to blame…” Adrien grumbled before reaching into his pocket. “I… would like to call a friend of mine. To reassure her I’m safe.”

“She won’t run to the police?” Lawton was hesitant to allow it but also didn’t have the heart to tell him no. The kid was emotional wreck. And if his appetite was anything to go by, it was possible physical abuse was also there.

“Marinette wouldn’t do anything dangerous. She… I think she was trying to stop the wedding. Or delay it.”

“The girl that stood up shortly before the panic?”

“Yeah… She used… She’s a friend of mine. Probably the last true friend I have left.” 

“I see… Okay, call her. But make sure not to mention anything about me. Just in case.”

There was a moment of tense silence while Adrien waited for his friend to pick up. Finally, after the fifth signal, there was a rustle on the other side.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng speaking. Who do I have the pleasure with?” She spoke almost mechanically. To someone who never met her before, it might’ve sounded sincere. To Adrien, it sounded like she was exhausted both physically and emotionally. He almost blamed himself, but at the last second shifted it all onto Lila and his Father. 

“Marinette!? Are you okay?” He asked, wanting to make sure there was nothing truly wrong.

“Adrien!? Adrien!” She immediately seemed to cheer up. “Where are you!? Are you okay? What happened? Did they hurt you? Are you safe?” She finally paused to take a breath. 

“I’m okay, Marinette. I might’ve sorta gotten myself kidnapped,” he realized how bad that sounded as the words left his mouth, “but it’s all okay! It’s better than it was!” He rushed to reassure her, albeit his method was not a hundred percent successful. 

“Are you safe?” Was the question she repeated. It sounded almost… guilty. To Adrien’s tired brain though, such subtle details were second to the question. 

“I’m probably good. Someone put a bounty on me, but it’s all about me being alive. It’s like whoever did it accidentally saved me from the wedding.” He chuckled a bit darkly, thinking about how much of a temper tantrum Lila must’ve been throwing since his disappearance.

“Call me back later, okay?” There was a sudden urgency that Adrien did pick on. “I have something that needs to be sorted out.”

“What’s happening?”

“Just my Maman is coming. She is knocking right now.” With that, she hanged up. Adrien relaxed. There was no danger. And even if there was, it probably just ran away to hide as Sabine Cheng came to town.

“Kid, you done?” Deadshot walked back into the room with another hamburger.

“Yeah. I feel much better now. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“Don’t sweat it. Listen… I can’t just keep you, but I called some friends of mine. They’re willing to help you. Well, she is. Her girlfriend is just going with it for her sake.”

Lawton carefully studied Adrien to see his reaction to mentioning the couple, but there was no visible reaction. He just watched the hamburger with a hungry gaze. 

-------

Elsewhere, an exhausted kwami flew out of the jewel. Hawkmoth was one step from tossing the jewel at the wall. 

“I don’t understand! He should be terrified by now! He was kidnapped! They wouldn’t kill him after going so long to kidnap him!”

“Maybe your powers aren’t as good as you’ve thought?” another voice spoke from the shadows. Lex Luthor walked into the center to join Gabriel Agreste.

“They didn’t have time to move him out of the city before I started the search. Not without magic and he said there was no magical travel to or from Gotham so far.” Gabriel paced around the room. 

“While you were playing with your precious jewels, I actually used some of my contacts. It appears that someone ordered a hit on your son. They wanted him kidnapped from the wedding.”

“What?!” Gabriel paused and glared at the other man.

“While I can’t stop it or even try to outbid them, I do know of one person I can convince to take this task. And she just happened to be coming to Gotham this very moment.”

“Fine. I want my son back, or our deal is off, Luthor.” 

“Don’t worry. He will see the Light soon.”

[elsannabackwardsposts]

Bonus Feature (apology for the chapter delay)

I think this was a requested Bonus prompt from a long while back. Posting as a little apology for the delay in getting out Chapter 40 Part 1. :) 

Flynn POV; Mid-Chapter 12 time frame

“Hey, Elsa,” waved the boy from across the lobby of the campus’ business building. The blonde woman turned her attention from her notebook, curiously looking up from where she sat on the cushioned bench. With a smile, the brunet plopped down beside her, backpack falling at his side. “Got a minute?”

Raising a brow, Elsa nodded, making one more pencil mark in her notebook, filled to the brim with print outs of what looked like a class’ power-point slides. Once the book was closed, resting on her lap, pencil fit through its coiled binding for safe keeping, she turned her head to face her underclassmen.

Taking the acknowledgment as her means for him to continue, he sighed. “I need some ‘dating’ advice..” He had caught the widening of blue eyes, and although already knowing the real reason behind why the older rower held such a surprised reaction, he played it off innocently. Running a hand through his loose bangs, he sighed, shrugging his arm. “I know. Me, of all people. Crazy.”

When he glanced toward the Senior again, he noticed that she’d schooled her look back to that of a more controlled expression; one which matched her soft voice. “I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be on this..”

He waved his hand. “Don’t sweat it. I just don’t really know how to approach this one girl. None of my usual ideas are working..” He let his gaze fall, hand absently raising to scratch the nape of his neck. “She’s on the team, which may be why it’s harder. I’ve never, ya know, dated on the team before.” Flynn knew it wasn’t the greatest way to pose this question, but really, he didn’t know what else to do.

“You know how I feel about dating teammates, Flynn..” Elsa said quietly, having turned her eyes away solemnly, a bit of warning in how she spoke his name.

“Yeah, I know..” he said apologetically with a sigh, lulling his head for an instant before locking his honey-hued gaze on her. “But you’re also filled with wisdom that I don’t have,” he said, trying to give a cheeky face, although feeling the sincerity slip a little too much into his words. It did seem to give the blonde a pause before looking back at him with a bit of amusement. “Seriously though, if you were to ever go about dating again, team or not, and, hey, look. I get it, you totally won’t, but just hear me out.” The smolder was locked and loaded in his wide, pleading eyes.

The older of the two made a face, finally rolling her eyes in an exasperated manner, motioning her hand with a twirl, letting the man continue. He smiled.

“Alright, so. If you were to ask them out.. what would you suggest? Or even say?”

There was a long silence and the blonde averted her eyes. The way her expression morphed into a pensive gaze gave away the fact that she was just taking her time to really think about the question. So Flynn casually pulled his leg up to his lap, relaxing back into the seat, prepared to wait patiently for his quiet friend’s response.

“I’d make sure to remind her of the importance of putting crew and studies before a relationship.” The young captain groaned, lifting his eyes dryly to the ceiling with a long blink. Elsa frowned at his reaction. “What? It is very important to get that out of the way in the beginning,” she stated firmly.

Hanging his head, Flynn nodded, voice defeated, but tinged with a delicate sadness more than anything. “Yeah, I know..” Seriously. What else did he really expect from the lone woman? After all she had been through, of course she would opt to make sure every one else was warry, not wanting to see anyone else get all caught up in feelings only for it to all end painfully. But he could appreciate it fully all the same, because no doubt Elsa would not offer this advice, one learned so deeply due to cuts in her own heart, up to many others, if any others, but him.

Tucking a strand of flaxen hair behind her ear, Elsa softened her look. A few thoughtful seconds later, she gently added, “Just.. keep showing her that you care; that you respect her. Be yourself. Honesty is what means the most to everyone.”

Turning, seeing the gentle look cross his childhood friend’s face, the boy felt himself inhale, just in the slightest, just because of seeing the glimpse of ease emanating behind sapphire eyes for the first time in a long time. Unable to handle the elated emotion of seeing the Senior finally melt, even if in the slightest, in a highly delicate moment which could be easily ruined if he harped on her heart’s submission, or made mention of it at all, he instead played it off in the best Flynn way possible. He made an ugly face.

“Ugh, that’s it?” He closed his eyes, tilting his nose up. “No offense, but that really is girly advice.”

“Full offense,” Elsa genuinely laughed, hand shoving the boy’s shoulder lightly as he grinned back. “If you didn’t want a woman’s input, why did you not ask your guy friends?”

Flynn rubbed the light scruff of his beard. “I don’t talk about this ‘touchy-feely’ stuff with most people. And Hans is never around anymore since he’s so busy with Anna. I really didn’t have anyone else.” His honey colored eyes fell to the side, noticing how Elsa had looked down to her hands again. He blanched, realizing his words. Shit. “Ah..! I know you two don’t get along, sorry for bringing him up.”

But the girl shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” Her blonde brows furrowed in a strange way, as if there was a hint of confusion and some sort of disdain intermingling in her emotion. “Honestly, sometimes I forget that they’re together, so thanks for reminding me.”

Something about the way she said that made Flynn pause. He honestly couldn’t really comment much, as the young couple always seemed to hang out outside of crew practice; only a handful of sparse remote moments could be recalled of the two giving off romantic vibes at the boathouse or after a race. Maybe Anna wasn’t the type to talk about her relationships very much with her teammates, airing away from typical PDA-type antics. Or maybe the Freshman was discreet enough and careful of Elsa’s feelings to not bring up the boy in conversation (as Flynn had just absentmindedly done here), effectively keep Hans out of Elsa’s mind.

He hoped it was the latter. From what he had begun to observe, the rowing pair had seemed to have a good mesh, even noticing a bit of brightness returning to his best female friend as the fall season began to roll into early winter. If Anna was that considerate of Elsa’s feelings, she was definitely a good person who’d treat her friendship with Elsa well, prioritizing the gentle soul over the novelty of a boyfriend.

His eyes scanned the Senior once more, noticing something else in her eyes; a distance usually reserved for her pensive thoughts. A place she’d fallen in and out of periodically as her years at university rolled on, usually when reflecting on her race performances and, if ever another person, it would be her Ex.. But this expression was never offered regarding the auburn haired Junior boy. So, given the conversation, did that mean it was the talk of Anna who had triggered the look this time?

Blinking, Flynn held his breath instantly as the connection was made, looking at the stoic woman with a new eye. Her expression paired with her previous reaction at the couple’s mention. His brain was suddenly pulling up images from before; her reaction Halloween night, the way every time he recently messaged her she happened to be studying or exercising with Anna. Nowadays, everything that he knew of Elsa revolved around Anna. When had that happened?

Could it be that she..?

Does Elsa actually have feelings for..?

Blue eyes were suddenly on him, narrowed. “What are you looking at?” asked the woman tersely, a frown on her lips, making Flynn startle.

“Ah, sorry, thinking of, um, you know, how I can go about wooing my lady.” He grinned sheepishly.

Sitting forward, he watched as Elsa slipped her notebook into her backpack and sat up straight, sliding her satchel strap over her shoulder. For a moment, the Junior Captain thought the woman was about to stand and take her leave, but instead, she stayed still, a pale hand lingering on the strap.

“Hey, um..” Flynn was looking directly at the porcelain face which was turned downward, gaze locked on the brilliant tile floor. “What about studying together and hanging out afterwards at your place?”

The boy blinked and tilted his head. “Huh?”

Elsa made a small grimace barely visible in her side profile. “A suggestion for you and her.. to get closer.”

The Starboard rower brought his palm beneath his chin as he leaned forward, eyes still watching the Senior. “Huh. Well, we don’t have any classes together, but maybe that’d work.” He looked to the high vaulted ceilings and the gorgeous chandelier overhead and smiled. “Yeah. Study date and a movie. Sounds like a plan!”

This time, the blonde looked at him. “Why a movie in particular?”

He laughed good-naturedly. “It’s the perfect ‘hang out’ excuse to blur the lines of a friendly date. Even if nothing happens, or if conversation lulls, you can at least extend your time with the other person and quietly enjoy it that way.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be a Netflix and chill deal.”

The Senior slowly nodded in understanding at his response, if not also scrunching her nose in confusion at the final weird phrasing he had chosen, before finally standing and bidding a farewell. Flynn reciprocated in kind and watched his blonde friend head off toward the glass-walled entrance of the building.

He leaned back, arms crossing against his chest with a smirk.

Despite his excellent acting skills revealing the total opposite, Flynn himself did not miss the subtle implications hanging in the blonde’s suggestion, nor how there was an honest curiosity in hearing his interpretation of why a movie could be a nice transitional date option. He really hoped he had worded the idea optimally enough. And although he certainly was down to implement it in his own endeavors, with what he had assumingly discovered regarding the elusive woman’s heart, he hoped he would not be the only one picking out a movie this week..

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Gen

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter except for like, the word orgasm

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 8/16 (all chapters)

The sports festival was over before you knew it. You left the school grounds on a high, proud of being even slightly involved in such an impressive event.

You knew that the next few days were going to be frantic, so made a point to stop off at the store to pick up some last minute groceries while you had the chance to do so. They were having a sale on seasonal produce and you ended up buying more than you meant to, struggling under the weight of your numerous bags as you arrived at your house.

You lifted your bags to reach for your keys, only to catch your ankle on something and fall face first onto your own doorstep, vegetables flying everywhere in your wake. Somehow you avoided smashing your face against the concrete and escaped with only minor grazes on your knees and palms. You rolled over onto your back with a hiss of pain, wondering what the hell you’d tripped over.

You got your answer soon enough, though you didn’t like it. Shouta was sitting on the ground beside you, pointedly looking away. You realised in horror that you had almost certainly flashed your underwear on the way down. Heck, you were flashing him then.

“Oops,” you said, quickly rearranging yourself and clapping a hand in your lap for good measure. “Were you...waiting for me?”

It was a stupid question and you knew it. Why else would he be sitting at your door?

He’d got the food containers that you’d given him in his lap and you felt more than a passing pang of joy at the knowledge that he must have eaten everything you had made for him, even if you were still more than a little miffed that he’d gone back to work without rest.

“Come on in,” you said, getting up to gather the vegetables you’d dropped everywhere. Thankfully you hadn’t bought anything particularly fragile. “I’ll make some-

He reached out to take the bags from you and you glanced from his casts to his blank expression and back again. He wanted to help, that much was clear, but there was no way you were going to push all of your groceries into his injured arms. Instead you lifted a single bright red tomato from your bag and set it down on top of the food containers he already had.

He was far from impressed by the gesture, but said little of it as he followed you into your home. You headed to the sink to wash your hands and hissed with pain when the water hit your grazes.

“What is it?”

Shouta peered over your shoulder, standing so close that you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. It was more than a little distracting, all things considered.

“You really are an idiot,” he sighed.

For a second, and only one, you agreed with him.

“Wait. Me?? I’m the idiot?! Why were you sitting at my door in the first place?”

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

“And you shouldn’t sit in such a prime tripping position,” you said. “I could have broken my nose!”

You turned towards him, ready to make a comment about how he was exactly like a cat, running between your legs and trying to trip you over onto your ass, but you fell silent at the realisation that you were at kissing level.

“Oh,” you said. “Hello.”

He glanced at your lips, however briefly.

“Sorry,” he said. “I came to talk about...I came to talk about 1-A.”

“Okay,” you said, “um...where would you like to start?”

He stood there, eying you from head to toe as if you were a battle scene and he needed to devise a strategy. You might not have known it, but in many respects you were.

“I didn’t come to talk about 1-A.”

“No.”

Truth be told, you already knew. You had both dreaded and looked forward to this moment; the discussion about the kiss. You were both adults and couldn’t dance around the topic forever, no matter how much you might have wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I took advantage of you and I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Stop it with that. If I didn’t want to kiss you, I wouldn’t have.”

He was so close...so warm. He was close enough to touch and you couldn’t distract yourself from it. The students weren’t the only ones you hoped your feelings reached. You wanted him to know how much you had feared for him the day of the accident; the feelings deep within you that you didn’t want to leave behind.

You didn’t want him to leave you behind.

“I…”

“Hizashi,” he said.

It was perhaps the last thing you expected him to say and you weren’t sure how to respond.

“Uh...I’m (Name).”

He laughed at that under his breath, so quietly that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t standing so extraordinarily close.

“Fried chicken,” he continued, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was having a stroke. “Black nail polish, green candies.”

“Shouta…”

You planted a hand on his forehead to feel his temperature, wondering if you should call an ambulance. Maybe it wasn’t only his orbital cavity that had been damaged.

“Purple socks, studded leather, zombie movies, horror games, candles that smell like desserts, cheap sunglasses, expensive shampoo, eighties rock and dubstep mashups, light beer…” he skimmed your hairline. “(HC) hair.”

“Shouta, what are you…”

He took a step back and crossed his arms as much as one could with two casts.

“Those are the things Mic likes,” he said, as politely as if you were strangers. “Bear them in mind.”

“Uh...okay,” you said, wondering if his birthday was coming up. “I will.”

Shouta nodded and you couldn’t help but wonder. If it was just Hizashi’s birthday, why did he look so sad?

“I’m rooting for you,” he said, giving you a polite bow.

You stared at your front door for a long time after he left, going over everything he had said. You couldn’t understand why he had looked so upset, however briefly.

What had any of it got to do with Hizashi? Why did it matter if you knew the kind of movies he liked?

Why would he-

Realisation hit you like an ice cold bath as you considered recent events: Hizashi’s immediate invitation for beers the day that you met; his insistence that you called him by his first name within a matter of hours of meeting. Hizashi, who seemed incapable of going a single conversation without calling you ‘cute’. Hizashi, who nudged you with his elbow the last time you had recorded Support Mic and told you with a wink that the walls were soundproof.

Oh

You moved towards your cupboards and began to pack your groceries away, too many thoughts circling your mind for you to settle on a single one.

This was, to say the least, an interesting development.

~~~~~~

Aizawa Shouta had suffered many misfortunes in his life. He had lost friends, family and students alike, had slept in the cold with nothing but a cigarette for dinner.

He had almost always accepted his misfortunes with grace; it was easier to dodge punches when you saw them coming.

Even so, he left your home slowly, thinking of Shinohara.

Hizashi and Nemuri had him wrong; since high school, they had believed he was oblivious to her advances and discarded her love notes by mistake. As a matter of fact, he had done so deliberately.

What was it you had said the night of the reset? That you had never done such a thing before and didn’t know what came next?

Shouta knew as much about relationships as you did casual flings.

He had read each one of Shinohara’s notes. He had seen the way she behaved like a deer in headlights and concluded that he didn’t understand any of it. She spoke of him in such abstract and illogical terms that he wondered if she knew him at all.

It was easier to believe she didn’t. When she spoke of kind eyes and wisdom, she meant someone else. She offered up a piece of her heart with every letter and he was doing her a favour by not taking them. That person she liked didn’t exist.

Casual lovers didn’t expect anything from him other than an orgasm, which was easy enough to provide with practise. Longer term partners, though, that was something else entirely. He didn’t know the first thing about being someone’s boyfriend, but he did know that Hizashi would make the perfect one. In the long run, you would be better off with him.

It was easier to dodge punches when you saw them coming; easier to avoid disappointments when you didn’t hope for things in the first place.

Even so, he caught himself thinking back to the day of the reset.

You chased after him then and, if he was completely honest, he wanted you to now.

~~~~

While you cooked dinner and Shouta returned home, Hizashi sat at the bar in Ego , sipping at his drink with a depressed expression that completely contrasted the upbeat music playing over the speakers.

He had gone to Ego straight from work, meaning to ask about the mystery woman. He’d gotten distracted, though, watching the video over and over instead of showing it to the staff. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Shouta held the woman’s hand in his.

He’d held Shouta’s hand before, during training exercises or to find him in crowds, but it had never had the same feel to it that he saw in the video. Shouta had always been reluctant about it, never once taking the lead and Hizashi felt oddly jealous, wondering why he had never received the same level of tenderness as the woman at Ego .

For the briefest of moments, he was tempted to delete the video and erase the mystery woman from their lives. He didn’t like what she represented, no matter how wonderful she might have been.

He downed his drink in one with a grimace, catching the attention of the bartender.

“Can I get you a refill?”

Hizashi sighed, twirling his glass and spinning the ice cubes within.

“Yeah, maybe something harder.”

“Mic, you’re going to scare away the customers at this rate. What’s the matter with you?”

Hizashi set aside his glass with a sigh.

“I’m looking for a woman,” he said.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Not like that. She was here about six months ago. Had drinks with Eraser. I was hoping you’d remember her.”

The bartender laughed as he reached for a bottle of rum.

“Listen,” he said, grabbing a glass and setting it down on the bar with a flourish. “I have a better memory than most, but even I can’t remember that far back.”

“Don’t you have CCTV or something? It’s pretty important that we find her.”

“Oh? She do something illegal?”

“No, I just want to talk to her.”

The bartender poured rum into the glass, flinching at his answer.

“I’ll be honest,” he said. “The boss man handles all of that stuff and I doubt he’d part with that kind of information without a formal subpoena. Do you have any idea how many creepy guys come to us looking for girl’s numbers?”

Hizashi reached for his newly filled drink.

“Not even for me?”

“ Especially not for you. If anything went south it would be even more of a scandal.”

Hizashi hadn’t expected to hit a dead end so early on and didn’t know how to feel about it. He wondered if he should have followed his instincts and deleted the video after all.

He wondered about it on the train ride home, as he combed his hair, as he sat down in his studio. He played the video on silent and scrolled through it as he loaded up each track.

Finally, at minutes past midnight, he leaned into his microphone.

“Now, listeners,” he said, “here’s a song for the lovers.”

There and then he played a song of unrequited love, of strangers on trains and secret words and crossed paths, a song that bled with emotion and longing. A song that you sang along to as it played through your earphones. A song that Shouta nodded his head along to on his balcony, Sushi curled up on his lap.

Hizashi closed his eyes as he listened to the song, the video from Ego loaded and his finger hovering over ‘delete’.

One tap and the mystery woman would be gone forever. One tap and this feeling of dejectedness would leave him. He wouldn’t have to think anymore about what she represented, the realisations she had forced upon him without ever introducing herself.

One tap and he wouldn’t be the Shinohara.

He locked his phone instead and set it aside, the video safe for another day.

He told himself the same thing you told yourself as you stared at your bedroom ceiling, thinking of the way Shouta had backed away.

He told himself the same thing Shouta told himself as he thought of your lips and bewildered expression.

I shouldn’t be selfish. This is the way it should be.

[retromotherfuckers]

Six Years (Part 1)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Platonic Octavia Blake x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you had become.

Warnings:

Some mf ANGST, themes of mental illness and addiction

Word Count:

1.2k ~roughly~

A/N:

FUCK JASON || I will write a part two if requested

It was just supposed to be a few years. Five to be spent underground, escaping the radiation-soaked earth so Praimfaya could finish ravaging the planet.

The arrangement seemed good on paper, but as soon as those steel doors closed, chaos ensued. Clan leader after clan leader came after Skairipa; everyone wanted the bunker to themselves, despite the initial decision to unite. The youngest Blake held her own, taking each of them down, spouting the same phrase after each and every one of them.

“You are Wonkru or you are the enemy of Wonkru. Choose.”

At some point, they gave in, deciding that living under someone else’s reign was better than dying bloody. It was then that a new energy seeped into the bunker, red stained the walls and ghosts lurked the halls, their reminders to choose or die. No one dared to defy her again.

Now, it felt weird to call Octavia, Octavia. That woman - the one wearing her face - that wasn’t her. That was Bloodreina; a ruthless, unforgiving dictator doing what needed to be done to keep her people alive. You and Miller were the only surviving members of the Hundred in the bunker and there wasn’t a day she didn’t ask you for your council. Along with Kane, Indra and Abby.

All that being said, as she lost more and more of herself, so did you.

Everyone could see what you were doing, why it was you and the Red Queen being judge, jury and executioner. You had seen how things were going and decided to take a page from Clarke’s book. It forced Octavia to split the load, even if she didn’t want to.

We bear it so they don’t have to.

You were doing just that when you pulled the trigger that day; but, you couldn’t stop the guilt that filled your stomach, nor the bile the crawled up your throat at the view of the light leaving that blonde girl’s eyes. You held the sobs in, only letting a few silent tears fall as Kane’s begs echoed through your ears. His attempt to beg for the life of a girl with a target between her eyes, futile.

You had a job to do and only when Bloodreina gripped your arm in support, did the two of you raise your guns.

That’s when you remembered what Lexa used to say.

Love is weakness.

Bang!

Leksa kom Trikru was the last thought you let yourself have of before. If you thought of anything or anyone else, he would slip into your mind. You knew that if he was there with you, none of this would be happening - he would stop it at all costs. That simple fact was overwhelming, leading you to sneak into the infirmary and take the same things as the doctor. You saw the stashes; she was stealing things periodically - so you started pulling from the morphine stock.

The irony didn’t escape you, but it kept you breathing. Every kill, every beating, every memory, sucked the air from your lungs. Eventually, thousands of days bled into nights and not only would he not recognize you anymore, but nobody would. It started getting harder and harder to resemble that person staring at you in the mirror; just as difficult as it was to see whatever was left of Octavia.

Then, you got caught, and the confrontation with Bloodreina was exactly what you expected. However, she was anticipating a fight - a last string of hope that maybe you weren’t all lost, that maybe you still wanted to live. When you confessed at the immediate accusation, you saw a flash of a girl you used to know in her eyes.

A flash of the girl they found hidden under the floor. A flash of the girl you held when her first love was killed in front of her. A flash of the girl that is simply a little sister and a daughter, terrified of seeing what life wanted to throw at her. A flash of Octavia. But it was just that. A flash. For Bloodreina saw no trace of the girl her brother loved, all remnants of who you were, gone.

You broke the rules again and no one, no matter the status, was to be exempt from punishment. The Red Queen knew what she had to do and within two days, you were in the fighting pit being reckless. You had no strategy and relied entirely on how well you handled the axe you grabbed at the jump.

Somehow, at today’s reaping, you and Kane ended as the final two. He stared at the crimson liquid you bathed in, the way your shoulders heaved with each breath, and the tears pooling in your eyes. The only sign you were still in there.

You had forgotten Marcus Kane. You had forgotten that the man who raised you was the man standing in front of you. Your axe was at the ready, almost to his neck, but then your father’s eyes connected to yours and you froze. With a deafening screech, the sword in his hands fell to the ground. His mouth was opened to speak, voice low and comforting - words hitting you directly in the chest.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. If this is what you want, it’s okay.”

Neither you nor Marcus noticed the commotion surrounding you, eyes locked on each other’s. It didn’t matter that a hole had opened up from the ceiling; all you could see was the absolute devastation that lived in his muddy orbs, disguised as reassurance.

It ruined you.

There was a sudden change, a ghost you had given up on ever seeing ever again stood in front of you - a torn type of resistance to his posture. He pushed himself between you and your father, your name spoken precisely and with caution. “What are you doing?”

All other thoughts of the current predicament were discarded, only one thing running through your mind. This cannot be real. Why your head decided to fuck with you now, after almost four full years of never letting him in, was what confused you. You couldn’t fathom why he looked different, he looked older. A beard adorned his face, his hair was longer and it looked like he spent the last decade exercising.

Unconsciously, your arm came down, moving the deadly weapon from play. This didn’t feel like a memory, it felt like a memory being created. You felt yourself be dumbfounded when he repeated the question from before, his voice deeper than you remember.

“Bellamy...”  The name left your lips in a breath, it tasted so foreign, one you hadn’t spoken in years; it didn’t even feel like you were the one that said it. Taking the smallest step towards him, you just wanted to feel him again. It was as if every time you had pushed him away was meaningless; your heart fluttered and the smallest bit of a wish blossomed in your chest.

But he immediately stepped away from you, something unrecognizable in his eyes - it was a look you had never seen someone wear towards you. You gazed at your father, not knowing if it was for support that you weren’t completely lost or confirmation that you had been gone for too long. You couldn’t read him anymore, and you guessed that was your answer.

It snapped you into the reality that you’ve tried to avoid at all costs.

They’re fucking scared of you.

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader Side Story

Word Count: 3898

Warnings: None

Main Story Part Links:

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11

_________________________

“Lost In The Past” Side Story - The Missing Five Years

January 6th, 2014

You were nervous this morning. Today would be your first day at your new school. It had been about a month and a half since you arrived in the future and all of the people you were about to attend school with were kids technically younger than you. You had knowledge of times when they didn't even exist and you worried about saying something out of date and being the odd one out. You were already the new kid so you were at a disadvantage to start with. As you sat at the kitchen table for breakfast you went over your notes of what was popular during this period. You looked at top songs, popular bands, different media platforms, current fashion trends, things called memes, and anything else so you could fit in.

"Here's your breakfast! Are you excited for your first day of school?" Grace asks

"Kind of. I've only ever been to private school so going to a public school will be different." You explain "I just hope I can fit in."

"I'm sure you will! You're a wonderful person and anyone would be lucky to know you." Grace replies

Taking a break from your notes you eat some of the breakfast that Grace had made for you. Two eggs and bacon in the shape of a smile. As you finished you looked at the time and saw that you needed to head out and get to school. Grabbing your backpack you say,

"Bye Grace, I'll see you later."

"Have a good first day!" She calls out

You make your way upstairs and outside the front gates when you see a familiar face in front of you leaning on a car.

"Diego? What are you doing here?" You ask

"You thought I wasn't going to see you off on your first day of school?" He asks

"I just didn't expect it." You reply

"Well, here I am so hop in," Diego says getting in the driver's side of the car

You walk around to the other side and get in the front passenger seat. You and Diego make the drive over to your school and when you arrive he asks,

"You ready?"

"Yeah, I guess so." You reply unsure

"Hey look at me. You are smart and brave and more powerful than any of those kids. You're going to do great and if anyone bothers you" He says taking out a knife "you let me know and I will handle them."

"Don't kill them!" You exclaim

"I won't, I'll just rough them up a bit." He replies avoiding your gaze

"Okay, I'm going now." You say getting out of the car

Diego gets out of the car and says,

"Wait one second!"

"What?" You ask turning around

"Stand there so I can take a picture," He requests

"Oh my god, are you serious?" you complain

"Aw c'mon, please?" He asks

"Fine."

You put on a smile and Diego pulls out his phone to take a couple of pictures of you standing in front of your new school.

"Eudora is going to love these, I've been telling her all about you." He mentions looking at his phone

Once he puts his phone away he comes over to you and gives you a big hug before getting back in his car. Through his window, he tells you,

"Have a good day."

And with that, he drives off and you were on your own at this new school. Walking into the entrance you make your way to the front office and tell them who you are. The secretary, an older woman, then gets up from her seat and guides you to what would be your homeroom class. Since you were coming in the middle of the year the teacher introduces you to the rest of the students. To your surprise, they aren't rude or exclusionary and during your free period and lunch, you get to know a few of them. Using your knowledge of popular things that you studied you're able to get by talking about stuff outside your interests. The kids who talk to you seem pretty nice and you think you'll be able to become friends with them. Even though you were making friends you couldn't help but think of Five. None of these kids would ever compare to him no matter how much you got to know them but you at least needed to give them a chance.  And so throughout your first day and the days after you were able to build a group of people you'd want to be around during school hours.

July 17th, 2015

"Again." Reginald commands

All-day with no breaks, you had been practicing to develop your powers. Ever since school finished Reginald had been pushing you harder to develop your powers. Day in and day out you would train. There were physical exercises, self-defense, power development, mental sharpness tests. It was excruciatingly long and you never stopped. At this moment you were practicing to detect slight disturbances before you could see them. Reginald had finished training you to do your powers without concentration being necessary. You were able to control your own molecules and that of other things without thinking. You could transport yourself and other objects with ease. You even improved to the point of being able to see the types of molecules around you and use them to create other things beyond, fire, water, and smoke. Now he wanted you to use that ability to see the molecules around you and make it instinctual to detect disturbances in them. So he had you geared up and blindfolded and had Pogo shoot paintballs at you. You didn't understand how blindfolding you was going to help you see the molecules since you didn't have your eyes but you went along with it anyway. You had been the same exercise for about a month and a half at this point and with each day you were starting to get better. When you first started you got hit with paintballs consistently but now you were able to feel the disturbances in the molecules around you and were able to dodge the paintballs. As much as you hated the way Reginald went about things you were impressed with the progress you were making. You kept going at this until you heard Grace call out,

"(Y/N), you need to get ready for your piano recital."

With that, you took your blindfold off and asked to be excused. Reginald let you go and you rushed off to get ready for your performance tonight. You had been practicing your piano and when you learned that there were auditions to represent the school in a summer music showcase you took it upon yourself to make sure you got the singular spot for your school. Every moment you had free you spent practicing and now came the day you were waiting for. You put on a nice white shirt and a black skirt before heading downstairs. You looked at the time on the clock and saw that if you didn't leave soon you would be late for roll call.

"Oh no, where's my sheet music?" You said frantically as you just remembered it

"Don't worry, I have it right here." Grace calls handing you the folder with your music

"Okay thank you! I better get going." You say quickly "Bye mom!"

And with that, you had rushed out the door and started making your way to the performance hall not too far from where you lived. You weren't there to see it but Grace became overwhelmed with feeling as no one had called her mom in a while. She was never going to make you call her that but for you to accept her as another mother to you meant the world. She stood in the foyer for a second staring at the door you had just left from taking in the moment. After a bit, she went off to her bench near all the paintings to start a new cross stitch hoping you would continue to call her that when you came back home.

You had made it to the hall just in time and when it came for your turn to play you made your way out on stage. Sitting right there in the front row was Diego. With a big smile on his face, he used his phone to take pictures as you made your way to the piano in the center of the stage. You gave him a small wave before sitting down to play. Placing your music on the stand you took a deep breath. You knew what you were doing, you had practiced for weeks. With the crowd dead silent, you started to play. You played your heart out, putting every ounce of emotion and effort into your performance. This was your moment and you made every second of it count. When you had finished the crowd gave you an overwhelming amount of applause. You stood up from the piano bench to take a bow and as you did you saw Diego standing up and cheering you on. You could tell from the way that he was looking at the people around him and point towards the stage that he was bragging about you, tell them all how you were his talented little sister. You took one more bow before walking off and when the showcase finished Diego walked you home.

"You did amazing! I'm so proud!" He exclaims

"Thanks. I'm proud of me too."

It was a short walk and before you knew it you were back home.

"I'll see you this weekend to train and box alright?" He says

"Alright Eggo, see you then."

Diego walks off as you make your way inside the house. When you get inside you go and find Grace calling out,

"Mom! Mom! I did so well tonight!"

Grace stops her cross-stitch. Turning her attention to you she says,

"I knew you would sweetie! Now, why don't we go get you ready for bed."

"Okay!" You reply running off

As you run off, a wide smile on Grace's face as she knew you calling her mom would most likely be a constant from now on.

May 14th, 2016

"Listen if you're nervous or worried about getting hurt then you don't have to do this. You can back out right now and I can take you back home." Diego says concerned

"Diego I think you're the worried one." You comment

Tonight was your first real boxing match. After two years of practicing with Diego, you felt that you were ready to get out there and fight. There were no other girls to fight you so you were going against a guy from a rival boxing club. You were excited to step in the ring and take this dude on but even after the years of training you've done Diego was still worried about your safety.

"Okay maybe, but I don't want to see you get hurt out there." He replies

"We've been training for this moment. I'm ready and if I take a few punches so be it. I'm not a helpless little princess." You explain

"But you are a little princess...to me. If you got hurt I would kill everyone and then myself for not doing a good job keeping you from harm." Diego explains back

"It worries me that I know you mean that sincerely," you reply

You were about to say more when you hear the announcer call you and your opponent to the ring. You nod at Diego and make your way over there. Entering the ring the announcer introduces you and the other guy to the crowd. The crowd cheers and the announcer gives to go-ahead to start. The two of you circle the ring for a bit before the guy throws a punch at you. You're able to dodge it and punch him right in the gut. When he doubles over you throw a couple of jabs at his head hoping to throw him off his rhythm.  As he comes back up the guy you were fighting nails a hard blow on your jaw. You stumble back a bit but regain your balance and head back. The two of you go blow for blow, for the next couple of rounds landing solid hits on each other. The guy stumbles towards you and you know this could be it using all the strength you have you swing towards his jaw and hit him straight on. The guy you were fighting falls to the ground and is out cold. The ref comes and does the countdown and when it is evident that the guy was knocked out completely the ref raises your hand and declares you the winner. It took you a second to realize what you had done but when you do you exclaim,

"Holy shit I won!"

Diego and some of the other guys from your club lif you up into the air cheering for your victory. This win would be one to remember for a long time.

October 1st, 2016

Sunlight shined through your curtains as the sounds of the city outside you started to wake you. Slowly you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. When your eyes came into focus you took a look at the calendar you hung beside your bed. The date of it read October 1st, 2016. Today was your birthday. You got up from your bed and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

"Happy sixteenth birthday!" Grace exclaims "I made you some pancakes because it's like the cake of breakfast."

"Thank you, mom." You reply sitting down

She had put some strawberries as eyes and some whipped cream as a smile. Birthdays had always been a bit calmer ever since you arrived almost three years ago but you were grateful for what you did receive. Each birthday you spent the morning with Grace and the afternoon and evening Diego would take you to do something special. You looked forward to what he had in store this year.

"I almost forgot, I have a present for you!" Grace says handing you a box

You undo the ribbon on the box and take the lid off. Pulling the item out you see that it is a beautiful knee-length dress.

"This is wonderful, how did you get it?." You ask still in awe of the gift

"Well, I was going through some of Allison's old clothes and saw a couple of items that I thought I could sew together to make a more modern dress for you. I hope you like it."

"I love it Mom, thank you!" You say gently putting it back in the box.

Finishing your breakfast you give Grace a hug before taking the box and heading upstairs. You were absolutely going to wear this dress today. Putting it on you look at yourself in the mirror for a while. You really looked nice in the dress. You spent some time in your room writing in the diary that you had to tell Five about your day so far. When you finished writing for now you looked at the time and headed out to the curb. You knew Diego would be picking you up soon. You waited outside for a bit before seeing his car drive up.

"Happy birthday princess, hop in!" He says from his car window

You slide into the passenger seat of the car and Diego starts to drive away from the house.

"You look nice," He says

"Thanks, Mom made it for me." You reply "What are we doing today."

"Ah well that is a surprise, you'll see." He says

The two of you drive around for a while and do a couple of activities. He takes you to the movies and a nice bakery for lunch. A little less exciting than prior years but you were happy nonetheless. The two of you pull into a parking lot and Diego says,

"I ordered some food from this venue, can you come in and help me carry it out?"

"Sure!"

The two of you head inside but when Diego opens the doors to the venue there stood all your friends from school. Looking around you see decorations from wall to wall and a DJ in the corner. You turn to Diego and ask,

"What is all this?"

"You think I wasn't going to give the little princess a royal sweet sixteen party?" He replies with a smile "Now put this on and have a blast."

Diego hands you a tiara and you enter the venue to meet all of your friends. You were so surprised and extremely grateful for what he had done. He must've saved up a bunch of money form his janitor and boxing jobs to afford this. You and your friends ate, danced, and celebrated your big day all thanks to your older brother, Diego.

November 22nd, 2017

Today was exactly four years since you arrived in the future back in 2013 and started living in the Hargreeves house. Over those four years, you had done many things. You had gone to school, made some friends, became a stellar piano player, had a good boxing record, developed your powers further than you thought you ever could but there was one thing you still hadn't done. You still hadn't gone into Five's old room. Every day for the past four years you had passed it multiple times but you dared not to enter as you feared it would hurt you too much. And as you walked back to your room from dinner you passed the room once more but this time instead of just heading to your room you stopped in the hall. Turning around you stared at the door. Slowly you took steps towards it. Now as you stood in front of it you wondered why you were so compelled to do this, nevertheless, you slowly reached your hand out to the doorknob. Grabbing it you hesitantly turn it and hear the click of the door opening. You gently push the door open and turn on the light switch. And there it was, his room. You stepped into the room and looked around. Everything was just as it was the last time you saw it all those years ago. Desk in the same spot, closet still full of uniforms, the bed was perfectly made. The room was untouched. You remembered all the times you had in here. This is where you told him you had powers, this is where you two hung out, this is where you danced with him that one night. This wasn't just a room, this was where you two became best friends. As you walk further into the room you see his old domino mask laying on his desk. Gently, you blow the dust off of it. You always thought the mask looked good on him. Walking over to his bed you lay down on it. Holding the mask close to your chest, you close your eyes. You missed Five more than anything in the world. You wished day in and day out that he would come back. But he hadn't as of yet and you wondered if he ever would. You kept hoping though. You hoped that wherever he was he missed you just as much as you missed him and you hoped that one day he would come back to you. So as you laid there on his bed holding the domino mask you remembered all the good times with your best friend. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a bit more at peace.

March 17th, 2019

Your heart was racing with excitement as the night you had been looking forward to finally arrived. All school year you had been excitedly waiting for prom night and now here you were getting ready to go. You had spent all day getting ready with the help of Grace. You had been sitting in the bathroom for who knows how long as she did your hair and makeup to make sure that you looked perfect.

"What do you think sweetie?" She said getting you up to look in the bathroom mirror

"Oh my gosh, I look beautiful Mom!" You exclaim

"You were already beautiful sweetie, you just have some makeup on now." Grace replies

You quickly turn to her and give her a big hug.

"Thank you, Mom!"

"It's nothing, now you need to go put your dress on." Grace states

You nod to her and head to your room. You go to your closet and grab your prom dress from it. It had been sitting in there in its protective bag for months. Finally, the day had arrived for you to wear it. Taking the dress out of the bag you carefully slip it on. When you finally get the zipper of the dress up you put on your shoes and jewelry before you hear Grace call,

"(Y/N), come down here!"

Grabbing your purse and prom ticket you head out of your room and towards the foyer stairs. As you make your way down them you see Grace and Diego waiting at the bottom.

"Oh, honey you look beautiful." Grace compliments

"You look like a real-life princess," Diego adds

You can see tears forming in Diego's eyes. He is such an emotional person even if he wants to put out to the world that he is tough and strong.

"Diego, are you crying?" You ask

"No, it's just dust in my eyes." He replies wiping his face

"But I dusted yesterday," Grace says

"It's just d-d-dust..." he stutters "Here let me take some pictures."

"Diego you take way too many pictures." You comment

"Just keep quiet and take the pictures," He says

You roll your eyes before posing on the stairs and smiling so that he can take pictures of you in your dress. After he takes solo shots of you he takes some of you with Grace and then has Grace take some of you with him. He had to show her how to work the camera on his phone though before that could happen. After that, he was able to set up the timer on his phone and take a picture of the three of you together.

"Now that's a nice photo. Looks like I got a new lock screen." He says "Oh one more thing. I know you don't have a date for the prom, which is good because you're too young to date, but anyway I got you this."

Diego then pulls out a pretty corsage for you to wear to the prom and you put it on.

"Aww thank you Eggo," You say giving him a hug

From outside you can hear a car honking.

"Oh, that must be my friends. I'll be back later Mom and I'll see you soon Eggo."

"Have fun!" Grace replies

"Be safe." Diego states

Rushing out the front door you hop in the limo that you rented with your friends and head over to the venue hosting your prom. As the limo drives and you talk to your friends you feel like good things are going to happen this year and you couldn't wait to see what comes next.

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