#tried to tart myself up

[cantquitu]

.

[arctic-hands]

I should totally learn how to brew my own mead or cider

[solxamber]

Overblot Gang + Rollo vs Plushies

Surely they're not jealous of a stuffed toy, right? ....right???

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stepped into the room, exhaustion clinging to him like an unwelcome guest. It had been a day filled with chaos—Ace and Deuce were their usual disruptive selves, Heartslabyul’s hedgehogs had staged what could only be described as a minor rebellion, and the tea party had gone disastrously wrong when the tart supply mysteriously disappeared.

All Riddle wanted was to collapse into bed with you, the one person who made his world feel a little less upside-down.

But instead of finding you waiting to greet him, he found you fast asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed.

And clutching...a plushie.

Riddle froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes narrowing at the offending object. It was a bunny plush, worn and clearly well-loved, nestled securely in your arms. Your cheek rested against its soft head, your lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.

For a moment, Riddle just stared. Then the tiniest flicker of jealousy ignited in his chest.

It’s just a stuffed toy, he told himself, but the longer he looked, the more irrational his thoughts became.

Why is it getting your affection while I’m here, alive, and far more deserving?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the ridiculous notion, but the sight of you snuggling the plushie like it was the most precious thing in the world made his face heat up.

“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Quietly, carefully, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes fixed on the plushie. His plan was simple: extract the bunny and take its place. Surely, you’d prefer your boyfriend over a stuffed toy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the plushie’s soft fabric. Just as he began to tug it free, your eyes fluttered open.

“Riddle?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Riddle froze like a thief caught in the act, his face turning as red as his hair. “You’re awake!”

“I am now,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the bunny in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was—” He struggled to find a reasonable explanation, but his traitorous blush gave him away. “You were holding it so tightly, and I thought perhaps you’d be more comfortable with me instead.”

You blinked at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh, soft and warm. “Riddle Rosehearts, are you jealous of my plushie?”

“I most certainly am not!” he spluttered, though the way he avoided your gaze told a different story.

“You are!” you said, sitting up and holding the plushie close. “You’re jealous of Bunny!”

Riddle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is mortifying.”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you cooed, deliberately making it worse. “Riddle doesn’t understand how much you mean to me.”

“Give me that!” Riddle reached for the plushie again, but you held it just out of reach, giggling as he tried to maintain his dignity while grappling with a stuffed toy.

Finally, you relented, setting the plushie aside and wrapping your arms around him instead. “I’m just teasing. You know you’re my favorite, right?”

He sighed, leaning into your embrace despite his embarrassment. “I don’t know why I let myself get worked up over something so silly.”

“Because you’re adorable,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but this time, he didn’t try to hide it. “Just...promise me you won’t replace me with a toy.”

You grinned, cupping his face in your hands. “Never. You’re too cute to replace.”

And with that, you pulled him into a kiss, his earlier jealousy forgotten as he melted into your affection. The plushie sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, no match for the warmth and love you gave so freely to the one who truly deserved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona slammed the door to your shared room, the sound of it echoing through the space. His day had been one giant pile of nonsense—from an annoying meeting he didn’t even want to attend to Ruggie disappearing when he needed him to take his place. And let’s not even talk about that one random pigeon that had the audacity to poop on his shoulder during his walk back to the dorm.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your presence and the luxury of using you as his personal pillow while he finally got some peace.

But when he turned to the bed, his sharp emerald eyes caught sight of you curled up against something that was decidedly not him.

You were cuddling a lion plushie, of all things, as you read a book. The toy was tucked snugly in your arms, and every now and then, you absentmindedly stroked its mane while flipping the pages.

Leona froze, his ears twitching in irritation. What in the world is that thing doing in my spot?

You glanced up when you noticed him standing there, his face an unreadable mask of simmering annoyance. “Oh, hey, Leona,” you greeted cheerfully, holding up the plushie. “Look! Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier, and it reminded me of you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, grabbed the plushie from your arms, and unceremoniously hurled it across the room. It landed with a pathetic little plop in the corner.

“Leona!” you exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. “What was that for?”

He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a huff. “That stupid toy’s been hogging my place all day,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t need competition in my own bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as he tangled himself around you like an oversized, grumpy cat. “Leona, it’s just a plushie. Are you seriously jealous of a stuffed animal?”

“I'm not jealous,” he muttered, tightening his grip around your waist. “I’m the only lion you need.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you teased, tilting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “Do you feel neglected? Should I make it up to you?”

Leona raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. “Damn straight, you should. Start with those kisses you owe me.”

With a laugh, you leaned down and kissed him softly, your hands cradling his face. He hummed in satisfaction, his earlier annoyance melting away as you continued peppering his cheeks and forehead with affection.

“Better now?” you asked, grinning against his skin.

“Hmm,” he replied, sounding almost lazy, though his arms stayed firmly locked around you. “Still annoyed that you thought some stuffed toy was good enough to take my place, but I guess I’ll survive.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but snuggling closer to him.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Now shut up and get comfortable. You’re my pillow tonight.”

You didn’t mind one bit, letting him rest his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. The plushie in the corner could wait—your favorite lion was right where he belonged.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walked into your shared room, exhaling a sigh that carried the weight of a long, exhausting day. Between renegotiating contracts with customers, juggling lounge finances, and—most harrowing of all—keeping Floyd and Jade from causing a full-blown diplomatic incident, he was done.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your embrace and the chance to leave the chaos of the Mostro Lounge behind.

But when he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on you sprawled on the bed.

You were curled up with an octopus plushie of all things, the game console in your hands forgotten as you absently squished the toy. It had an oddly familiar round head and floppy tentacles that dangled off the side of the bed.

Azul froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him. His sharp mind began firing off thoughts at record speed.

Is that... me? No, of course not. But you’re cuddling it. You’re smiling. Does it remind you of me?

He frowned as another realization hit him like a cold wave.

Am I... jealous of a goddamn plushie?

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room. “What’s this, my dear?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with suspicion.

You glanced up and beamed at him. “Oh! Welcome back, Azul!” You held up the plushie as if presenting a priceless artifact. “Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier and thought it looked a little like you.”

Azul’s composure faltered for a split second, his cheeks tinging pink. “You think an oversized toy resembles me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, tilting your head innocently. “It’s an octopus. And it’s adorable.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, hiding his expression. “I see.” He hesitated before clearing his throat again. “It seems you’re quite attached to it.”

You hummed in agreement, giving the plushie another squeeze. “It’s so squishy and comforting to hold while I play.”

Azul’s eyebrow twitched. “Comforting, is it?”

He walked to the bed, sitting down beside you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Darling, might I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” you repeated, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “That plushie for... well, anything you desire. Perhaps a free full course meal at the lounge? Or a favor of your choosing?”

You raised an eyebrow, setting down your console. “Are you trying to make a deal with me over a stuffed toy?”

Azul’s cheeks darkened. “Of course not. I simply thought you might prefer a more... meaningful source of comfort.”

It clicked, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, straightening his tie even though it wasn’t out of place.

“You’re jealous of the plushie,” you said, leaning toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Azul sputtered, adjusting his glasses again. “Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Why would I—”

“Aw, Azul,” you cooed, cutting him off as you set the plushie aside and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should’ve just said you wanted to be my cuddle buddy. You’re my favorite octo-mer, after all.”

His ears flushed deeper as he tried to maintain his dignity. “Well, of course I am. There’s no need for comparison.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him down onto the bed and into the position the plushie had been occupying moments ago. You rested your head against his chest, a satisfied smile on your face. “Because this is way better than some squishy toy.”

Azul relaxed, his arms wrapping around you as a content sigh escaped his lips. “Naturally,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From the corner of the room, the plushie sat forgotten. Azul glanced at it once and smirked. You’ll never take my place again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil shuffled down the dorm hallway, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos—cooking for Kalim’s impromptu banquet, mediating arguments between students, and narrowly avoiding another wild scheme involving magic carpets.

All he wanted was to collapse on the bed he shared with you. That you’d be there was just the cherry on top.

He pushed the door open, ready to greet you—only to stop dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on the bed, scrolling through your phone with a peaceful smile. But it wasn’t just you. No, you were wrapped snugly around a snake plushie.

Its long, noodle-like body coiled over your lap as you absently hugged it closer, your cheek pressing against its soft fabric.

Jamil’s eye twitched.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and stared at the scene with growing annoyance.

You look so happy... with a plushie.

“Hey, Jamil!” you greeted cheerfully, glancing up from your phone. “Welcome back. Long day?”

“Mm,” he hummed, walking toward the bed with a carefully neutral expression. He sat down stiffly at the edge, his back to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing his unusually curt demeanor.

“Fine,” he replied, voice clipped.

You frowned, putting your phone down. Wrapping your arms around his back, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, though his tone didn’t convince either of you.

You squinted at his turned profile, the faintest flush dusting his ears. He wasn’t looking at you—or, more specifically, at the snake plushie you still held loosely.

Then it clicked.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Wait a second. Are you… jealous of the plushie?”

His shoulders tensed, and he immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teased, letting go of the plushie entirely to wrap yourself fully around him. “You hate my noodle friend, don’t you?”

Jamil turned slightly, just enough to glare half-heartedly at you. “It’s not— I don’t— It’s a toy,” he huffed, the flush on his face deepening.

“A very cute toy,” you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek against his. “But not as cute as my boyfriend.”

Jamil stiffened as you started peppering kisses along his jawline. “Stop,” he mumbled weakly, his resolve clearly crumbling.

“Why?” you asked innocently, kissing the corner of his lips before moving to his neck. “You’re so much better than any plushie. You’re warm and handsome and smell nice…”

He finally cracked, turning to face you fully with an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, but you love me anyway,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jamil gave you a tired but affectionate look, letting himself melt into your embrace. “Maybe.”

You smiled, pulling him down onto the bed with you. As he settled into your arms, the plushie forgotten on the floor, you whispered, “You’ll always be my favorite noodle.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassed grin. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And Jamil, despite his protests, felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced all day.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil returned to his dorm room with a sigh of relief, the stress of the day clinging to him like stage makeup. The auditions, the photoshoots, and Epel’s ongoing refusal to use skincare—it had been a lot.

What he wanted now was simple: your company, your warmth, and the soothing routine of winding down together before bed.

However, when he stepped inside, his poised demeanor wavered.

You were curled up on the bed, a content smile on your face, snuggled tightly against a plushie—a soft, bunny-shaped one at that.

Vil froze, one hand still on the door handle.

It’s just a plushie, he told himself. A mere inanimate object.

But as he watched you absentmindedly rub your cheek against the bunny’s floppy ear, he felt… something.

Annoyance? At the plushie? Himself? You? He couldn’t even tell.

Brushing off the irrational jealousy bubbling in his chest, Vil set his things down and began his evening routine. He didn’t mention the plushie or the way it seemed to taunt him with its undeserved place in your arms.

You looked up with a warm smile. “Hey, Vil. How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied smoothly, glancing your way briefly before focusing on his vanity.

“You want me to pin up your hair?” you offered, already starting to sit up, plushie still clutched in one hand.

“No need,” he said quickly, voice tighter than usual.

You blinked. That was unusual—Vil always let you (only you) help with his hair. But you shrugged it off, assuming he was just tired.

As Vil carefully applied his cleanser, the plushie caught his eye again in the mirror. It was still nestled against you, smugly enjoying the attention that should’ve been his.

Halfway through his routine, he finally snapped.

With a dramatic sigh, Vil spun around, crossed the room in three graceful strides, and plucked the bunny from your lap.

“Uh—?” you started, confused, but before you could say more, Vil replaced the plushie with himself, settling across your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vil?” you asked, biting back a laugh as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

“Not. A. Word,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at your amused expression. His cheeks were faintly pink, but he composed himself quickly, picking up where he left off with his skincare routine as though nothing had happened.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Vil’s hands faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“You’re totally jealous of the bunny,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his shoulder.

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. Instead, he muttered, “Why would I feel jealous over a plushie?”

“Because you’re pouting,” you said, laughing softly.

Vil sighed, tilting his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “I do not pout. And don’t think I’ll let you win this one.”

“Oh, I’ve already won,” you said, tightening your hold on him.

Vil shook his head, muttering something about your insufferable sense of humor, but his posture relaxed as he continued his routine.

By the time he finished, the plushie had been completely forgotten, replaced entirely by the warm, smug human wrapped around his waist.

Idia Shroud

Idia shuffled back to his room after the dorm leaders' meeting, grumbling under his breath about its sheer redundancy.

"Like they really needed me there. My tablet could've handled it. Heck, I could’ve sent Ortho in my place! It’s not like I’m ever the one making decisions… What’s the point of—"

His mumbling came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into his room and saw you on the bed.

You were curled up against a giant teddy bear, console still in hand, the screen long since dimmed. Soft snores escaped you as you nestled deeper into the plushie's arms, utterly at peace.

Idia froze, his face instantly heating up. "Wha—?! W-why is this so—?!" His hair sparked pink as he clutched his hoodie, feeling like he was going to short-circuit.

The sight was almost too much. You, looking so cute and peaceful, holding a teddy bear like it was some kind of rival stealing his spot.

He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking slightly as he snapped several photos. “For, uh, research. Totally normal behavior. Definitely not for my… secret stash.” His whisper echoed a bit too loudly in the silent room.

But now he was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand, you looked so cozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you. On the other hand… he wanted to be that teddy bear.

Idia stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to decide what to do. He wrung his hands together, muttering to himself like a character weighing dialogue options.

"Option A: Let them sleep. Pros—cute and peaceful. Cons—no interaction.

Option B: Wake them up. Pros—I get attention. Cons—they might get mad."

Before he could settle on an answer, you stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked at him standing there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Idia?" you mumbled, setting the console aside. You gave the teddy bear one final pat before tossing it away and reaching out to him. "C’mere.”

His heart skipped a beat. “M-me?!”

“Obviously you,” you teased with a sleepy smile, pulling him into a hug as soon as he got close enough.

Idia practically melted into your arms, his hair shifting to a bright pink. His smugness quickly returned, though, as he realized the teddy bear had been successfully ousted. "H-heh. +1 affection point for me," he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of pride and shyness.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Affection point? Idia, you already maxed out your affection gauge ages ago.”

His brain short-circuited again, and he buried his face in your shoulder, muffling a squeaky, “D-don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” you teased, leaning back to look at his glowing face. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Idia groaned dramatically, his hair flaring brighter as he tried to hide behind his bangs. But despite his embarrassment, he managed to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Fine, whatever. Just… don’t let go, okay?” he muttered, his voice soft.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not a chance.”

From the corner of the room, the discarded teddy bear sat forgotten, a silent casualty in Idia’s victorious conquest for your affection.

Malleus Draconia

It had been a peaceful evening—stars twinkling, a cool breeze wafting through the window, and the promise of a lovely stroll under the moonlight. Malleus had been particularly pleased with the weather and decided to invite you for an evening walk.

He entered the room, his usual serene expression softening when his eyes fell upon you. But then, he froze.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon in your arms like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Was that… thunder?”

Before you could ponder further, a crack of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by the booming roar of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. You stared out the window in disbelief.

“But it was perfectly clear two minutes ago!” you exclaimed.

Turning back to Malleus, you found him standing as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed and locked onto the offending plushie in your arms. The air around him practically crackled with energy.

“Uh… Malleus?” you ventured carefully, glancing between him and the plush.

His voice was low and serious, tinged with a hint of betrayal. “Is that what brings you comfort in my absence?”

You stared at him for a moment, then at the plushie, before the realization dawned. Suppressing a laugh, you decided to play along.

“Oh no, this?” you said, holding up the plush with exaggerated disdain. “This means nothing to me.”

Malleus arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, though his eyes remained laser-focused on the dragon-shaped invader.

To really drive the point home, you dramatically tossed the plush into the corner of the room. “See? It’s nothing compared to you, my most handsome, powerful dragon.”

You spread your arms and wrapped yourself around Malleus, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His stiff posture eased almost immediately, and the thunderstorm brewing outside dissipated as if it had never existed.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his voice quieter now but still holding a touch of haughtiness. “I suppose it’s only natural. I am your favorite dragon, after all.”

“You’re my only dragon,” you said with a chuckle, leaning back to look at him.

Malleus gazed down at you, his expression softening into something tender. “Good,” he murmured, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your face up. “I would hate to compete with a mere stuffed toy for your affection.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?”

He blinked, visibly startled by the compliment, his ears tinging slightly red. “Cute? I… I do not believe ‘cute’ is the word one typically uses to describe the future king of Briar Valley.”

“Well, I do,” you said, smiling mischievously as you planted another kiss on his lips.

Malleus let out a deep sigh, though the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “You are… quite the peculiar human, my love.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

Malleus chuckled softly, pulling you closer. Outside, the weather had returned to the calm, moonlit serenity it was before—a perfect night for a walk. Though judging by the way Malleus held you now, neither of you seemed in any rush to leave.

Rollo Flamme

After a long day of dealing with incompetent council members, insufferable students, and the lingering stench of magic in the air, Rollo Flamme was finally free. As he walked into your shared room, his shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought of seeing you. Your presence was always the perfect antidote to his day’s irritations.

But then, he saw it.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon that was far too detailed for his liking. Its smug, embroidered eyes glinted in the soft light, as if mocking him. Worse, it was lounging on his side of the bed.

He froze mid-step, the betrayal hitting him like a thunderbolt.

You looked up, immediately noticing his stricken expression. “Rollo? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the plushie with such intensity it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flames.

You tilted your head, following his line of sight. “Oh, this?” you said, holding up the dragon plush with a smile. “I won it at the arcade today! Isn’t it cute?”

Glass shattering. Dramatic violins. Betrayal.

“...A dragon,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging it closer without realizing the depth of the offense. “It’s so soft, and look at its little wings! They’re kind of shiny—”

“Does it need wings?” he cut in sharply, glaring at the plush like it had personally insulted him.

You blinked. “Rollo, are you... mad at the plushie?”

He straightened immediately, huffing indignantly. “Mad? At a stuffed toy? Don’t be absurd.”

But the way his eyes flicked back to the plush betrayed him, the subtle narrowing of his gaze screaming volumes.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Oh my gosh, you are mad! Is it because it’s a dragon? Does it remind you of Malleus?”

His jaw tightened. “I do not dignify such comparisons with a response.”

You grinned, setting the plush aside. “Well, if it bothers you so much, I can just put it away.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he lied, though his shoulders eased a fraction when you stood and picked up the plushie.

“I’ll banish it to the closet,” you teased, waving the dragon plush dramatically before stuffing it into the closet. “There, see? Gone.”

Rollo exhaled quietly, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Good. It’s for the best.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder “You know you’re the only one I’d ever actually want to cuddle, right?”

His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat, but his arms instinctively came up to hold you close. “I would hope so,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you snuggled against him, he allowed himself a moment of peace, though his mind wandered. He would have to get you something far superior—something elegant and tasteful. Perhaps a plush raven or something equally refined. Certainly nothing with wings or scales.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But I’ll be... keeping an eye on your choice of arcade prizes in the future.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Whatever you say, Rollo.”

Deep down, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d won or lost this battle, but with your arms around him, he decided it didn’t really matter.

Masterlist

[wolfiesmoon]

When you suddenly cry in front of them :(

Riddle, Vil, Kalim, Malleus x gn!reader (riddle's and vil's are explicitly post overblot tho it's not super important)

i'm back to entering tartarus every day (school started again) so i thought i might as well distract myself with some hot twst guys :)

i havent been very active i know, i just cant get myself to do anything at all these days 😞i am so so sorry for making a kinda lazy short collection of blurbs but i need to get back into my writing groove somehow

(as a sidenote, i'm worried some of these might be ooc? i sincerely apologise if they are :( )

RIDDLE honestly doesn't know what to do with himself. He never really got the comfort he needed whenever he cried as a child so he had no idea how to comfort you now. He scolds himself internally for not immediately acting and just kind of freezing up beside you so he panics and tries to recall of all the times he saw someone else comforting others in order to end the extremely awkward tension as quickly as possible. He pats your back somewhat rigidly and says "There, there." In an all too awkward manner. You're caught off guard so hard by the sheer akwardness of Riddle's comfort technique that you burst out laughing, troubling Riddle even further. "W...Why are you laughing now?" The dumbfounded expression on his face is the perfect medicine for forgetting your troubles just now. Riddle unintentionally just cheered you up. After the incident, he seemingly becomes less strict with you and starts asking about how you're doing umprompted, which always pleasantly surprises you. Sometimes, Trey even shows up at Ramshackle dorm, holding a tart of your favourite flavour and saying he got orders from Riddle to deliver it to you.

VIL drops his usual strict nature for a bit. Of all people, he would be the one who could tell you were constantly acting strong and unbothered by everything going on around you. He thought of it equal parts admirable as he did foolish. Such intense emotion is not something to keep bottled up inside you and you made him realise that. His expression is surprisingly soft as he places one arm on your back, gently stroking it. He talks you through your feelings with a big sense of maturity and care and you're suprised by just how much he cares for you and your feelings. You don't exactly get that same impression when he's scolding you for not sitting straight or not wearing your uniform properly... regardless, you're very thankful for his words, even the harsher ones about needing to tell someone about things like this. "Tell me, if you must. I will always listen." After the incident, nothing much changes, really. Atleast from the perspective of others. He still gets on your case for not wearing your uniform properly, but he also asks about how you're doing when he gets the chance and does not accept simply "fine" or "okay" for an answer. You simply must elaborate why that is.

KALIM enters big brother mode. He's comforted crying siblings for various reasons before so what makes you any different? He gives you a tight hug, gently rubbing your back and trying to cheer you up with comforting phrases. He'd also try making jokes you to cheer you up and the puns are so bad you might as well start laughing. He didn't even start asking what's wrong but instead waited for you to tell him yourself. He surprised you with how mature (or perhaps just experienced) he is when it comes to crying people. You feel much better even only after a few minutes and you ask Kalim how you can thank him for hearing you out. "Seeing you smile again is reward enough!" He replies and you feel like crying again (but this time not from sadness or stress). After that incident, he always personally invites you to Scarabia parties, hoping they might inject a little joy in your life and keep your mind off things. If you're not a fan of parties, he takes you on carpet rides around the dorm instead.

MALLEUS is shocked into silence. You were smiling at him as sweetly as you always do just a moment ago... He knows how to comfort someone in theory, but now that he has to put it into practice, it feels like he's forgotten everything. He needs to show you that you can rely on him when it comes to your comfort, and that includes crying around him. This might just be one of the most heartbreaking sights he's ever had the displeasure of witnessing. He vows to himself that he never wishes to see you cry again (unless it's at your wedding) and would do anything to prevent it. He wordlessly pulls you into a secure hug, worried that if he does anything else, you might start crying even more. You hug him back and just sob in his arms, thankful for his warm embrace. "It will all be okay, child of man. I'm here, after all." And somehow, you can't help but trust those words with every fiber of your being. After the incident, Malleus ends up confessing what happened to Lilia and Lilia goes into one of those "Oh, how my baby has grown..." rants. But he also does say that Malleus should start inviting you to new places to keep your mind off things and help you let loose. So he does just that, with an added sprinkle of gargoyle-hunting and gargoyle facts. You're now very well educated about gargoyles lol.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

summary: just some small baking hcs because i couldn't help but think about these guys while doing some baking myself

pairings: all students x gn! reader (can be read as either romantic or platonic, except for ortho)

warnings: just fluff, there is no concrete trope here, just random brain worms; reader is not specified to be mc/yuu

a/n: peer reviewed by @daisystwistedgarden who woke up to me spamming our dms with these ♡

twisted wonderland masterlist

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle would be the most attentive student ever, taking notes on the exact ratio and the time you spent mixing everything together. Please don’t give him measurements like “what feels right”, he wants to know the exact amount down to the gram. One day, he wants to bake something for you by himself, but for now he’s content with sharing what you made together over a cup of tea.

Normally, the delicious smell of pastries and cakes comes wafting out of Heartslabyul’s kitchen with Trey at the centre of it, so the first time he comes to your dorm to see you baking, he’s pleasantly surprised. Obviously, he’s liked you before but now he looks forward to swapping recipes and spending afternoons side by side in the kitchen.

Cater would be posting all over magicam how cute you are and would fill his stories with candids of you kneading dough, taking stuff out of the oven, etc. He’d try to hide how flustered he gets if you tell him you made something savoury because you remembered he’s not fond of sweets.

The Adeuce combo would loiter around your kitchen, snacking half your dough without contributing any help whatsoever (Deuce tries, Ace never had any intention to from the start). One thing’s for sure: if Ace or Deuce ever have to bake an apology tart for an unbirthday party again, they already know who they’re recruiting. It’s also a great reason to stop by your dorm more often than they already do.

He would never admit it, if you made something for him, Ace would feel his heart beat a little faster. Instead he’d poke your cheek and make a nonchalant comment about how you must be so in love with him that you couldn’t stop thinking about him but the way his delivery stutters a little and the fact he can’t quite meet your eyes gives him away. Don’t mention if his ears turn red either (or tease him about it~).

Contrary to his roommate, Deuce is adorably honest about his appreciation for your hard work. You made this for him? Just because? There are a few seconds where his brain buffers while deciding what to do, would hugging you be too forward? But wouldn’t bowing be too formal? It’s honestly very cute to watch how his face flushes a colour that’s a nice contrast to the blue mark next to his eye as he stammers out his gratitude, especially if you’re not (yet) dating or haven’t been for long. 

SAVANACLAW

Leona was probably lazing around your dorm already and you woke him up from a nap with the noise of kitchen equipment and the different scents filling the air. He’d slink over to watch you work, offering unhelpful comments while leaning his entire weight on you. Because of his upbringing his palette is obnoxiously refined but he’s the one helping himself to more of what you just took out of the oven, so he’s not sly.

Ruggie can smell that you’re baking something good before even entering your dorm. Sure, most beastmen have a keen sense of smell but when it comes to food, nobody zeroes in quite as fast as the hyena. He’ll join you in the kitchen under the guise of learning a new recipe from you- and he is! It’s just that he’s also sneaking a treat or two off your baking tray.

Jack would help carry and stir stuff for you but he’d mostly keep to the background and let you do your thing, afraid to accidentally ruin the pastries or what you’re making, his nose and tail do twitch at the pleasant scent though. Since he’s an athlete, Jack makes sure to watch his diet but he’d never refuse to try what you made.

OCTAVINELLE

As the head of Mostro Lounge, Azul is always on the lookout for new items to add to the menu, so he takes quite the interest in your recipes. With a few tweaks here and there… For him to enjoy them in private though, he’ll study the recipe for different reasons. Of course he will try everything you make at least once, but the housewarden is still very conscious of his appearance, so he’ll enjoy your baking in measured amounts.

Jade, much like his childhood friend, is very intrigued by what you’re making but not out of business reasons. The eel is much more interested in how your recipes compare to his native ones and he’s already thinking of new things to try the next time around. As with everything, Jade loves to tease and fluster you, so of course he has to show you how to perfectly roll out the dough by caging you between himself and the counter. 

Perhaps you should think twice about letting Floyd into your kitchen. If he asks to let him help you, chances are he’s in a good mood, which is positive for his enthusiasm but detrimental to keeping your dorm clean. Sure, the eel is quite competent when it comes to preparing food but by the time your tray is in the oven, you, him and the floor are covered in flour.

SCARABIA

The first time you offered something homemade to Kalim, he had to refuse with a begging side glance to Jamil. Afterwards, he reasoned with Jamil that if he just joined you in baking, he could be sure of everything that went into the treats and so his vice housewarden relented. Against what people might think, Kalim is not actually half bad at baking, you just have to walk him through all the steps slowly. He might never have baked something himself before but he makes up for it with enthusiasm and the will to learn, plus he makes the whole thing super fun from beginning to end.

The first time Jamil sees you baking, it’s late in the evening and he just dragged himself over to your dorm for some much needed rest. But when he sees you working around the oven, there’s a split second where all the alarm bells in his head go off to thwart impending doom, until he remembers that you probably know what you’re doing and he relaxes. Old habits and all that. After that day, he’ll join you in the kitchen from time to time, if his schedule allows it. There’s no doubt about his capabilities, so Jamil’s always welcome to join you but he also appreciates that you don’t expect him to, which makes this a nice way to wind down for him. Also gets easily flustered if you make something for him and him only.

POMEFIORE

Vil would also compliment your hard work. Sure, he might offer some constructive criticism (if he knows it won’t hurt your feelings) so you can improve even further the next time around, but he’s also not hesitating to point out everything that deserves praise. He might click his tongue if you get cream on your face but will gently wipe it away and dust the flour off your clothes with a fond smile.

Rook is just as excited and eccentric as always, raving about the beauty of baking and how lovely you are for creating something so delicious. It doesn’t matter if you’re making the simplest cookies known to man, to him it might as well be a three tier cake.

Epel would be so happy if you made something with the apples his family sent him, but he appreciates it either way. He’s also really talented when it comes to decorating -probably because of his years spent carving apples- and he feels really manly when you ask him to stir something, knead the dough or carry ingredients.

IGNIHYDE

Idia is probably running through every anime and dating sim with a baking arc he’s ever watched/ played and his hair tinges pink as you invite him over. You’re at the intimacy level already to unlock this super domestic route? He really wants to save state irl, so he can keep coming back to this, both in case he messes up and to relive this moment.

Ortho would be a sweetheart, setting timers and looking up recipes and techniques if you’re stuck. He compliments your work and laments lightheartedly that he can’t smell or taste anything, saying he’ll pester Idia into inventing olfactory and gustatory receptors, so he can get the full experience next time.

DIASOMNIA

Congrats, you now have a very curious fae prince on your hands. Not only is he studying your recipes and ingredients with great interest, Malleus is just as fascinated by baking utensils running on electricity. Do yourself a favour and invite him for tea afterwards where you can serve your treats, he will be puddy in your hands.

Watch your bowls carefully when Lilia is around while you’re baking. There is a good chance the fae will try adding a few ingredients of his own and it will not end well for anyone involved. He’ll playfully pout about you rejecting his help and deflecting from the topic but a second later he’s laughing about how cute you are for wanting to make something for him by yourself.

Silver would fall asleep when surrounded by the good smells, the warmth of the oven preheating, your lovely voice and the kitchen sounds. He can’t help it, it’s such a relaxing environment and it puts him at ease and therefore also to sleep. But, ever the charming knight, he would help you clean up afterwards and very genuinely compliment your hard work with a soft smile.

Sebek will yap up a storm on how ‘your human recipes can’t hold a candle to briar valley’s supreme cuisine’ but he’s oddly docile once he actually taste tests. If you tease him about his earlier statements, he will flush red, trying to save face but also not wanting to lie about liking your baking.

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated (also, yes, there will be second parts for the characters) ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

Twisted Wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I can’t wait to try one,” you beam at the tarts on the cooling rack. 

“Why don’t you?” Queenie asks as she wipes her hands on her apron. 

“Well, it’s only polite we let others try them, right? Thor? Loki?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if we should bother them right now,” she puts her hand behind her. “I’m sure they’ll find us when they’re ready.” 

“Uh, yeah, makes sense,” you raise your shoulders to your ears. “Sorry.” 

“Please, don’t be. I just don’t want to be in the way.” 

“Me either,” you smile. “I feel like that a lot. My sister always makes me the odd one out. Her and her friends.” 

“Oh, really. I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault. I don’t want to tell on myself but I’m really happy we met. I hope... we can be friends.” You chew your lip as you look around. 

“We already are, aren’t we?” She asks. 

Your cheeks hurt as you smile gets even bigger, “really?” 

“Sure. You think I bake for anyone but friends?” She snorts. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not much of a homemaker.” 

“No, you have to be! You always look so nice,” you insist. 

“Ha, yeah, well... that’s what they like,” she swallows. 

“They?” You wonder. 

“Ladies,” Thor’s booming voice thunders in and you whip around to face him. “I smell something sweet.” 

Queen mumbles but doesn’t respond clearly. You perk up, “tarts! They’re all done, if you want to try some.” 

“Tarts,” he echoes in excitement and claps his hand, “I was of the mind for a different sort of sugar,” he steps around you and nears Queenie. He puts his large hands on her shoulders and draws her into a kiss. You avert your gaze embarrassed. “But a dessert would be nice too.” 

You shift and wave at the tray of pastries. “If Loki wants some, there’s a lot to go around.” 

“My brother? No, he disappeared a while ago. So is his nature,” he plucks a tart from the array. “But perhaps we will set one aside for him.” 

“Okay,” you agree as Queenie turns and wipes the counter. She’s already done that but she seems to prefer the distraction. 

Thor bites into tart, nearly taking half of it. He purrs and nods. “Very delicious.” 

“She did most of the work,” Queenie says over her shoulder. 

“We both did a lot,” you counter. “Really, it’s good?” 

“Haven’t you tried one?” He asks through his mouthful. 

“Not yet.” You turn and carefully cradle one. You lift it over your cupped hand to catch the crumbs and bite into it. “Mmm.” 

“Queenie, please, you must,” Thor turns with what’s left of his and offers it to her. She turns to him and hesitates. She lets him feed her the tart and chews tightly. 

She hums and hides her mouth behind her hand, “very good.” 

“Well, it seems you’ve been quite productive,” Thor praises. “You should show sweetness around. Give her a lay of the land. Have a bit of fun. Can’t save it all for the night time, eh?” 

He winks and she bats her lashes bashfully, “sure, um, come on,” she brushes by him and grabs your wrist. “I’ll show you the garden. It’s my favourite place.” 

“Aside from the bed,” Thor chortles. 

She squeezes you tight as she drags you away. It’s cute how much he loves her but you imagine you’d be just as embarrassed. You go with her easily, chewing on what’s left of your tart. 

“You’ll have to take some with you,” she says. “I can’t possibly eat so many.” 

“Oh, thank you.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she takes you through the back door and finally stops. You can sense her dismay. 

“Are you okay?” You free yourself from her grasp and touch her shoulder. She winces. 

“Fine,” she insists and crosses her arms. She marches ahead of you. “Just need some fresh air. It was getting warm in the kitchen.” She stops and glances back at you. “I don’t know how you’re not dying in that.” 

You look down at your turtleneck and shrug, “guess I’m used to it.” You follow her and glance around. The yard is huge. There’s a pool and grotto, a canopy over a dining set, a gazebo at the far corner surrounded by lush rose bushes, flowers at the middle arranged around the immense fountain. It’s like a fairytale. 

“This is so...” 

“I know, it’s beautiful,” she agrees as if it’s a bad thing. “Do you want to see the birds?” 

“Birds?” 

She nods and beckons you after her. She takes you toward the gazebo and around to the rear corner of the yard. The stone wall is woven over with vines and you can hear the steady cheep within. Bright yellow heads poke in and out as wings rustle through the leaves. 

“Wow!” You say. 

“He gets them imported,” she explains. “Pretty but... stuck here...” 

“They can fly away.” 

“They are tracked,” she sighs. “Not that they get very far with clipped wings.” 

You frown, “oh.” 

“Well...” she sniffs, “things are a bit nicer with someone to share them with,” she stands beside you. “Aren’t they?” 

You agree with a nod and gape at the wall of birds nesting between the vines. After a while, you trail after her into the gazebo and play on the wooden chessboard inside. The air smells like pollen. You while away the time, enjoying the lull as the breeze gently flows through the arches. 

“Checkmate. I think.” You say. 

She clicks her tongue, “yes.” 

“Wow, I never played before,” you snicker. 

“Don’t be a sore winner,” she sticks her tongue out. 

“I’m not,” you retort. 

“Well, maybe I’m a sore loser,” she pouts. 

You laugh and when she does, you laugh even louder. It’s infectious as the two of you giggle in the curtained dim of the gazebo. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of the throat also clears the air. You choke on your laughter and look in tandem to the shadow in the doorway. “I was told I am to return you to your home.” 

Loki stands with a placid expression. Despite his unaffected demeanour, you notice that a strand of his hair has fallen forward away from the rest of his neatly combed locks and there’s a dark stain on his collar. 

“Oh, already?” You wonder. 

He checks the watch on his wrist, “my brother said so. It is after dinner time. I believe he has plans with his... companion.” 

Queenie rises, “maybe next time you can stay.” 

“Hm, yes, maybe next time,” Loki repeats deliberately. “Come on then. I’ve not got all night.” 

You stand and give an apologetic smile, “bye, Queenie,” you murmur as she passes Loki. You follow her and stop just before him. “Did you have a tart?” 

“A tart?” His brows arch. 

“In the kitchen. We baked tarts.” 

“Mm, perhaps another time,” he drawls. “Let us not linger.” 

“Yes, sir,” you agree and wait for him to move. He doesn’t. You stare at each other. Finally, he shifts and extends his arm to gesture you out ahead of him. “Thanks,” you bounce past him and down the steps. “Oh look, you can see the moon already.” You point ahead as you cross the lawn ahead of him. 

“Mm,” he follows you at a pace. “Suppose that is rather amusing.” 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Of toppings and fillings

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Dessert

Rated: M

Tags: Established relationship; Idiots in love; Competitive idiots, to be more specific; Sexually explicit language; Sexual innuendo; Eddie is a little shit

It starts out innocently enough. Steve is lounging on the couch, Eddie sprawled on top of him. On the television, some home-making show is running, but Steve has dropped into a pleasant doze and isn't really paying attention. 

Until Eddie says, “Man, I could go for some of that right now.” 

Steve blinks at the screen.

“And there it is,” chirps the host. “Crispy meringue with that juicy filling underneath, which is the perfect mix of sweet and tart. With this delicious dessert, your family will-” 

Steve huffs. “It probably isn't half as good as my nonna's recipe. Her pies were the best.”

“Hah!” Eddie exclaims, propping himself up and ignoring the pained groan when his elbows dig into Steve’s ribs. “That only shows you never tried my granny’s baking.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Steve wheezes. He tries to shove Eddie away, only he’ll have none of it, and within seconds, things escalate into a full-on wrestling match. “Are you trying to insult my nonna’s baking?” 

“My granny’s baking,” Eddie purrs, pinning Steve’s wrists over his head. His breath fans over Steve's face, soft and warm. “Would fuck your nonna’s baking against the kitchen counter like a little bitch, and your nonna’s baking would enjoy it.” 

Steve sputters. Eddie smirks. 

Steve feels his teeth grit. 

“Oh yeah?” Prove it, Munson.” 

*

“Okay,” says Robin. “Walk me through this again. He shit-talked your nonna, so you made a bet on whose recipe was better? You’re supposed to whisk it, dingus.” 

Steve groans. His wrist is hurting. There’s dough stuck in his hair. “Yes, Robin, for the fifth time. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Why is it so hard to understand the difference between whisking and stirring?” she snaps, making to snatch the bowl from his hands.

“Hey,” Dustin bellows. He’s standing next to Eddie, who is furiously attacking his own bowl with the hand mixer, bits of filling spraying in all directions. “No cheating, he’s supposed to do it alone.”

“Cut him some slack, Henderson,” Eddie says, tossing a grin in Steve’s direction. “It’s hard, getting a proper filling all on your own.” 

Robin slouches back against the counter, hiding her scowl behind nonna’s cookbook.

“It seems a bit excessive is all I'm saying. You could’ve bet for money, like normal people? How am I ever supposed to eat anything from your kitchen again, knowing that you’ve been on your knees in here, scrubbing dough off the floor, clad in nothing but a frilly apron, have you thought about that? It’s unhygienic, Steve!” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Steve hisses, throwing a frantic look at Dustin. Luckily, he’s busy shouting at Eddie about tempering the eggs, whatever that means. “And for the record, I’m not losing this. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was ten years old, while Eddie … I’ve seen him burn SphaghettiOs, Rob. There’s no way!” 

“Cooking is different from baking, though,” she says. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Say, is it supposed to look like scrambled eggs?” 

“Whoops,” Eddie says, knocking a bag of flour off the counter with his elbow. “Leave it, Henderson. I’m sure Steve won’t mind cleaning it up later.” 

Steve growls, throwing his whisk down so hard it bounces off the counter and hits the nearest wall.

“C’mon, let’s get this thing in the oven.” 

*

“Esteemed jury,” Eddie declares, setting his pie down next to Steve’s. “This is it, the moment of truth. Two pies have entered into this contest, but only one shall emerge victorious, forever determining who-” 

“Quit it,” Steve says. “Or are you scared to admit defeat? Your topping is as flat as your ass.”

He nods down at their creations. The perfect golden tufts of meringue crowning his own, and the unimpressive, brown crust on Eddie’s.

Eddie grins. “Why don’t you leave your verdict on my topping skills for later, big boy?” 

The kids, who’ve been following the exchange with swiveling heads, frown. 

“Are you still talking about pie?” El asks. “It doesn’t seem like you’re still talking about-”

Robin sighs. “Just cut them and get this over with.” 

Steve nods, grabbing one of the knives from her hand while Eddie takes the second. 

“Look at this and weep, Munson,” he says, cutting a slice and lifting it out of the pan for everyone to see. “Perfect, homemade lemon meringue pie. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just as it should-” 

The topping slides off. A chorus of ooofs goes through the spectators.

“Erm, that’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sure it still tastes fine, it's just-” 

The filling dissolves into a puddle. It lands next to the soggy pile of topping with a wet squelch. The ooofs turn into eeews. Robin cringes. 

“Yeah, no offense, dingus, but I’m not eating that. Gives me icky mouth feels just looking at it.” 

It’s Will’s voice that makes them both turn around.

“Oh, wow! That looks delicious, Eddie!” 

“Thank you,” Eddie says as the kids scramble to hold their plates out to him. With a large smile in Steve’s direction, he hands a particularly large slice to Will. A perfectly shaped slice of bright yellow pie with a beautiful, firm topping of meringue on top. It’s snowy white under the brown crust. 

Steve drops the knife. 

“But I don’t- …” he mutters, sinking down into a chair with wobbly legs. “How did you- … You don’t even know how to cook!” 

“I don’t,” Eddie smiles indulgently, sliding him a plate. “But I’ve been watching my granny bake since I was tall enough to peep over the counter.”

He presses a fork into Steve’s hand and a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he saunters off towards the kitchen. 

“Enjoy your pie, sweetheart. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from the closet. The apron, too.” 

Steve gulps around his first bite of pie. 

More holiday drabbles

Looks like his nonna’s baking isn't the only thing that's gonna get fucked.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for all the love for chapter 1. I really wasn't expecting everyone to like it so much!

word count: 1,334 words

Last chapter

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Series Masterlist

You break your fast with the Queen every morning, but today, you are hesitant to go. For the past few days she has been trying to convince you to set up another meeting with Lord Stark. You show no interest in such an arrangement but you know it is no use avoiding your mother.

You have your handmaiden help you dress for the day in an eye-catching, sapphire gown. It’s low-cut but not in a way that wouldn’t be considered respectable. You may set many trends in fashion with being the only daughter of the Queen but you are still a princess after all. You have your hair done up elaborately and forgo donning your neck with jewels because you enjoy making the courtiers stare. You like tempting the men who will never be your suitors the most. Making your way to your mother’s solar, your gaze falls on a serving boy for perhaps a moment too long. He blushes. You think that you may call on him specially to serve your tea tonight; just because you won’t marry him, doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy him. Ser Erryk holds the door open for you when you get to the Queen’s chambers but an issue arises when you notice her guest.

“Lord Stark.” You attempt to put a smile on your face when you notice your betrothed dining with your mother. It comes out more like a grimace.

“Oh darling, I thought you would much rather break your fast with your betrothed today.” Rhaenyra smiles sweetly but you can see the pointed look in her gaze. She knows how desperately you’ve been trying to avoid Cregan Stark. “I’ll have my meal with the Dowager Queen.”

“Of course, mother. Thank you for the kind gesture.” You say through gritted teeth.

She exits the room, leaving you with only Cregan and a cupbearer. You stand, unmoving, near the door. He stands where he had risen from his chair in light of your presence. He awkwardly waits for you to take your seat so he may also be seated again. You make no signs of moving.

“Perhaps you would like to grant your feet a moment's rest, princess?” He gestures to the chair next to him.

You glare at him. “I do not need to be prompted by you in order to seat myself.” You decide to settle down in the chair across from him instead of the one he invited you to.

“Of course.” Lord Stark tries his best to not roll his eyes at you. “I was pleased when her Grace requested another meeting be set up between the two of us.”

“Were you?” You look at him, amused. You can’t imagine that the man still wishes to court you after your first encounter.

“I am pleased to have any chance to spend more time with my betrothed. Especially when she is as fair as you are, princess.” He says, turning up the charm all the way. “Might I also say that your dress looks absolutely ravishing on you.”

“I know it does. That’s why I selected it.” You say with a roll of your pretty doe eyes.

“A wise selection it was.” Cregan comments, somehow managing to stay courteous.

You fill your plate, taking your pick from the vast variety of fruits and you grab a single lemon tart at the end.

“Do you enjoy lemon tarts?” He says, attempting to keep the conversation flowing.

“No.” You say sarcastically before taking a bite.

“I take it that you still don’t care for conversation?” He speaks, his tone betraying him by revealing a hint of his annoyance.

“Not with any of the men that vied for my hand.” You answer shortly.

“I did not vie for your hand. The Queen gave it to me.” He seems almost offended by your words. You’re sure that a man like him has never had to compete for a woman before.

“Oh good. I’m glad to know that I am not a prize to be won but a gift to be given. What relief that brings me.” He cringes at your words.

“I did not say that and you know it isn’t what I meant.” He says firmly, his patience starting to grow thin.

“I’m sure it isn’t.” You say passively. As if the conversation isn’t worth your time.

“Princess, please help me understand why you seem to despise me so.” Your betrothed is clearly spiteful from the fact that he has been saddled with a woman that has next to no interest in him.

“I don’t despise you, Lord Stark.”

“Then tell me why you act as if marrying me is the worst fate the gods could have bestowed upon you.”

“I value my freedom, my lord.” You say simply.

“I do not intend to keep you prisoner.” He says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

He doesn’t understand. They never understand that being kept prisoner doesn’t always mean being held in a cell. Being free isn’t defined by your arms lacking physical shackles.

“I can see that this betrothal is not what you want but unity between the Starks and the Targaryens is what the realm needs.” He adds.

“I know what is good for the realm. My mother is Queen.” You say defensively.

He pauses for a moment and takes a bite of the pastry on his plate, washing it down with a sip of Arbour Red wine. He is clearly thinking about his words, wondering what to say that would upset you the least. “Of course, princess. So you evidently agree that your mother’s wishes, as Queen, must be followed?” You’re not really sure where he is going with this, if he has a point or is just trying to figure something out for his own benefit.

“Do you think I would be sitting here if that wasn’t the case?” you say condescendingly. 

Another pause from your betrothed. It seems that Lord Stark is considering his options. He then gives you a tight smile. “My house is very honour bound. You will have your freedom through Winterfell and I will never hurt a hair on your head, nor let anyone else bring harm to you. You may bring as many of your ladies in waiting as you would like and I will not bother you often if you don’t wish for it.” He lays it out straight for you, the benefits of having him as a husband. At this point, all he wants is for you to not be so bitter towards him.

You stare at him for a moment. You do seem to be a little enticed by the amount of control he is inclined to grant you. You consider being agreeable by simply giving him a nod of your head but that anger still tugs at the back of your mind. The fact that you will be wed to this man with or without your approval makes you sick. “I don’t require your protection. I have a dragon.” He sighs and looks almost disappointed.

“I offer you more than protection.” He says, firm in his beliefs that he would make a fine husband to you.

“Clearly because I get to bring my Ladies in waiting with me to the North. Hurrah.” You say with a straight face. “What shall you offer for me and me alone? Something that isn’t just for the progression of the realm?” You ask inquisitively.

“Well… I would like to make you happy.” He says carefully and you hope he doesn’t catch how you let your face soften for just a moment.

You have no idea how to respond to that. The sentiment seems so intrinsic and shallow and yet… you don’t believe that you’ve heard the words fall from a single suitor's mouth until him. 

“Oh.” The filler word falls stupidly from your mouth. The conversation does not continue on from there. You just pick up your lemon tart and eat with him in silence

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus

[imbaebi]

 The girl at a coffee shop.

ִֶָ࣪☾. B.C x femoc —

tags: idol!chan, coffeeshopowner!oc, sweet fluff, crushes

warnings: light swearing

wc / cc: 4.8k / 27.5k

Synopsis —---

Lollapalooza, a rather famous music event brings two people together. Fate you should say... Will the Idol really pursue a relationship with her?

—-- ⪩⪨⪩⪨

   “Hyung, we've been walking for like hours” Jisung complained. Chan rolled his eyes, it hadn't even been thirty minutes.

    They were currently in Chicago for Lollapalooza. The festival was tomorrow so the boys were doing their own things, being tourists. Chan was with Jisung who was already trying to get Chan to buy him a coffee. Luckily for him, there was a shop up ahead that said "Eggy's coffee", so he would be able to shut the kid up.

    Chan sucked his teeth. “We'll get you your coffee, Jisung-ah. There's a coffee shop right there.”

    Jisung made happy noises, losing all the tiredness that he was portraying making Chan shake his head.

⪩⪨

    Dina had this coffee shop for about three years, so the decorations were to her liking. There were lots of anime posters around and it had a overall cool vibe to it. Most of her regulars around knew her as Eggy, that's what she went by. Only some people, close people knew her as Dina. Like her staff for instance; Jazzy, Shanda and Bee. They were all close friends after working together for three years—except Jazzy, she's been working here for two years.

    Dina wiped down the counters, today was a bit slow. They only had five people come in, but it was still pretty early—it being 9 am—so it was fine.

    “Shanda, could you refill the sugar packets on table three?” Dina asked, still wiping the counter.

    “On it, Egg.”

    Bee and Jazzy were in the back, baking muffins, croissants and fruit tarts. They didn't have many baked goods since this placed was solely based on coffee but it was nice to have a few things.

    Dina had finished wiping the counter when the little bell indicating customers rang. She wiped her hands on her cute Rengoko  apron. All the staff had to wear Demon Slayer themed aprons, it was required. Dina looked up and almost froze when she saw the man in front of her. Wow... That was an understatement... Who was this pretty Korean man and why did he have to look like he stepped off a cover of a magazine? And he looked like he worked out. Damn, God are you trying to make me kill myself? Dina blinked remembering that time did not stop when this man walked in.

    “Welcome to Eggy's coffee, I'm Eggy. What could I get for you two?” She tried to speak as pleasant as possible. But it was quite difficult when someone so attractive suddenly came in with no warning and now you have to try to keep your voice as even as possible.

    “Ehm. One moment, please.” He smiled softly. Damn she just melted. She took note of his accent. Australian, perhaps?

    He turned to his friend, or possible partner? She wasn't homophobic that's for sure. He spoke to him in a language which she assumed was Korean. His friend had a slight smug look, she could only wonder why.

⪩⪨

    Chan and Jisung entered the coffee shop. It was decorated in anime posters, two sofas with different anime pillows and Jojo bizarre adventure themed rug. This place was so Jisung, he could already feel the excitement bouncing off Jisung.

There was a woman in a Shinobu themed apron, refilling the sugar packet despenser at a nearby table. Chan had only knew it was Shinobu because he watched a couple episodes of Demon Slayer with Felix.

    Jisung was staring around, he was probably in heaven right now.. Chan noticed another woman, working at the counter. Her apron was Rengoko themed. He couldn't help but watch as she wiped her hands on her apron. There was something about her that was drawing him in.. She was quite pretty. Him and Jisung head up to the counter and Chan got a closer look and realized pretty was a whole understatement, she was beautiful. Her box braids had beads at the ends, matching her apron completely. He thought that the apron complimented her dark skin perfectly. He could of stared at her all day but she spoke up.

    “Welcome to Eggy's coffee, I'm Eggy. What can I get you two?” She spoke making him remember that they were here to order some coffee and not stare at pretty women.

    “Ehm. One moment, please.” He smiled awkwardly. He turned to Jisung who gave him a teasing grin. Jisung had definitely caught the way he looked her, totally mesmerized..

    “What do you want?” He asked in Korean.

    

    “What's with that look?” Jisung raised his eyebrows a bit, in a teasing way.

    “What are you talking about?”

    “You know what I'm talking about.”

    “Dude, shut up. You have to choose something. Wait why am I even bothering?” He remembered that Jisung was fluent enough to order himself a coffee. “Order yourself.”

    He turned back to the woman who was watching them curiously. He was kinda glad she didn't understand.

    “Uhm sorry about that..” Chan said sheepishly. His ears felt red. They probably were..

    “No, you're good.”

    Chan turned to Jisung, who still had that look on his face.

    “Hello, Can I have a iced caramel latte?”

    Chan usually was one to get an Expresso but today he was willing to try something different.

    “What do you recommend?” Maybe it was just a sorry excuse to get her to talk again...

⪩⪨

    Dina was a little surprised to hear the other guy speak in a British accent. She hadn't been expecting that.

    She was kind of put on the spot when he asked her what she would recommend. Um. She started to panic inside.

    “Cloud matcha latte?” Her voice sounded so uncertain. Why was Bee's go to the first to come to mind?

    And, it was like the mention of her favorite coffee summoned her or something; Bee came from the back, surprisingly no flour on her Muichiro apron like she usually had. Her hair was pulled back in a half up due. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, a way of asking if Dina needed any help. Dina slightly nodded. She quickly told Bee to make an iced caramel latte. She turned back to the two men.

    “Or I can suggest a frosty vanilla bean latte.” That was her go to.

    “Which one's your favorite?” Was he flirting with her? It was like his dark brown eyes were dazzling her. Oh my gosh. Maybe I should just kill myself right here right now.

    “Frosty vanilla bean latte..” Dina basically murmured. Get a grip girl.

    “Then I'll have one of those.” He smiled. He looked so cute. She noticed one of his dimples was more prominent than the other, extra cute.

    “Sure.. Name for order?” She remembered to ask. She could literally forget how to do her job since this man was making her feel fuzzy.

    “Chris.” He answered. It suited him quite well.

    “And would that be together or separate?” Dina asked, moving closer to the register.

    “I'll pay for both.” Dina put in the price.

    “That'll be fourteen eightie-five. Cash or card?”

    “Card.” He pulled out his wallet, pulling out a credit card. He held it out to her and she took it. She also took note of his arm, she could see the vains popping out a bit... Oh wow now she was wet. Not good.

    She couldn't help but look at name on the card, Chahn Bahng. That was his Korean name, Chris was his English name she assumed. Chahn Bahng, the attractiv— no. She gave him card back.

    Dina got started making the frosty vanilla bean latte and the two men went to sit at a table. Shanda came up to her, her curly afro bouncing a bit.

    “Someone looks a little whipped for a certain customer.” Shanda teased her.

    “Do you want me to kill myself?” Dina hissed. “Shut up, he might hear you!”

    Shanda giggled and headed to the back room, probably going to tell Jazzy about their manger making heart eyes to one of their customers. To be honest she was quite disappointed when she finished making Chris' drink and when Bee finished the other guy's drink. They probably weren't going to see them anymore.. From the looks, they seemed like tourists since they didn't have Chicago vibe. Probably came for that music festival, Lollapalooza.

    “Chris?" His name fell delicately off her tongue, he looked up from his conversation. Usually she wasn't this bad at giving customers their drinks. “Your order's ready.”

⪩⪨

“Chris?” Her voice soft. His name sounded amazing coming from her. He did notice that she didn't have that Chicago accent that everyone else seemed to have. He couldn't help but wondered where she was from. “Your order's ready.”

Him and Jisung got up to take their coffees. Chan didn't want to leave just yet.. He didn't know if he would ever see her again due to his busy schedule and him living on the other side of the world.

    “You're not from here, are you?” He asked before taking a sip. It was quite sweet, not something he'd usually enjoy but for some reason he was enjoying it today.

    “No. How'd you guess?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows.

    “You don't really talk like the people who live here.”

She chuckled, it sounded beautiful to his ears. “I was born and raised in Florida. Bee and I moved up here three years ago.” She gestured to the woman that made Jisung's latte. “And what about you?”

    “I was born and raised in Australia. But I've been living in South Korea for some years now.”

    “ah. So what brings you to Chicago? Lollapalooza I assume?” He almost froze. Did she know who he was? He chuckled and scratched the back of his hair.

    “You could say that.”

    She looked a little curious but she didn't pry. How could he even tell her that he was part of a Korean boy band, that millions of followers that were his babygirls? That's not something you could casually bring up, especially with a stranger you met not even an hour ago. He did wish though that they could be more than strangers...

    “Your coffee shop is really cool, mind if we take a couple of pictures?” He knew Jisung was itching to take pictures for his insta, so might as well ask just to keep the conversation somewhat going.

    “I don't mind at all.”

⪩⪨

    She felt giddy, he thought her coffee shop was cool. A lot of customers thought the shop was cool but hearing it come from such a gorgeous man made her feel butterflies. She watched as the two men took pictures for each other. She noticed his friend—she found out his name was Jisung, since Chris asked Jisung where he wanted to take a picture—mostly took of himself whereas Chris took pictures of the cafe. She wondered if he had a social media account, but she wasn't going to ask since that was too straight forward. When they were done taking their photos, Chris came up to the counter again.

    “Thanks for letting us take pictures, Eggy.” He smiled his cute dimpled smile.

    “Dina...” She murmured. He looked at her a bit confused, which made her snap out of her dreamlike state. “Erm. Just call me Dina. And it's no problem.”

    She could already feel the knowing look from Bee. She heard the door leading to the backroom open and then close. Dina knew the second these two left, she was gonna get bombarded with questions...

    “Yeah, thank again Dina.” He said. “When do you guys close?”

    “Eight am to eight eight pm. But that's only Monday through Saturday. And on Sundays it's 11 am to eight-thirty pm.” She had wishful hope that he would come visit again... “Thinking about visiting again?”

    He chuckled sheepishly. “Maybe. Are you here through all open hours?”

    “God, no. I usually work the afternoon shifts but I'm only here this early is because we had a big shipment and I needed to supervise.”

    “Ah, I see. Well I guess I'll have to come back here in the afternoons before I have to fly back.”

    Her hopes went sky-high, he definitely wanted to see her again. Was he interested in her? Oh what luck if that was it.

    “When are you flying back?” She asked before she could stop herself. Why did she have to ask such a question. Before she could say he didn't have to answer,

    “Monday.”

⪩⪨

Why was he telling her so much? She could be a fan pretending to not know him and so that she could sneak onto the plane. But for some reason, he felt like he could trust her with anything. He and Jisung unfortunately had to say their goodbyes because they had a last minute fitting today. He watched as she smiled her pretty smile and waved at them.

    Jisung and Chris made their way back to the hotel. On their way to the hotel, Chan pulled out his phone and saw on his notification wall that he had a bunch of messages. That was strange. He unlocked it and found that their group chat that was for him and his bandmates was currently going crazy. This usually happened when there was a fight or a something serious was going on. Chan opened it up and read the messages. Oh my God he was gonna kill Jisung.

    “Jisung-ah, what the fuck!” He whined. Jisung only responded in giggles.

    Jisung had told every about his new crush. Now everyone was at-ing him, asking questions of this girl. Dammit now he had to deal with everyone once they reached the hotel. But unfortunately for him...

    

    “Chan-hyung!!” Across the street, Felix and Jeongin were waving at them. What fucking luck.

    The two younger ones jogged over with raised eyebrows and smug smiles.

    “Chan hyung has a crush~” was literally the first thing they said. They two started taunting him and Jisung joined in. Chan's ears turned red. He started walking away, towards the hotel and they followed him like annoying puppies..

    “Who was she?” Jeongin asked. But he already knew that she was the owner of the coffee shop they visited. Jisung left out no details.

    “I'm pretty sure Jisung already told you.” Chan muttered, his ears still tinted red.

    “Was she pretty, Hyung?” Jeongin teased.

    “Very.” Chan answered truthfully.

    “Did you feel butterflies, like how they portray in the movies?” Felix asked.

    “Maybe.”

    “Are you going to see her again?”

    “Probably..”

    “Are you going to ask her out?”

    Why was he even answering their questions? Chan flushed. He probably could ask her out since their dating ban has been lifted for almost two years now. But how would he? He wasn't even sure if she was interested in him. And besides he hadn't been in the dating game for years now so he probably lost whatever game he had before.

    The whole walk back to the hotel, these three were bothering and teasing him. But he ignored them, which caused them to eventually leave him alone by the time they got to the hotel..

⪩⪨

    Once Chan and Jisung left, the back room door opened and her friends came out. They all have her knowing looks. Dina sighed knowing what was coming.

    ““call me Dina”? Wow, that was fast. It took our loyalest costumers two years before they got to know your actual name,” Jazzy teased.

    “You were staring so hard, your eyes turned into hearts like in the cartoons.” Bee giggled, while making hearts with her fingers.

    “Someone's in love.” Shanda smiled. “Can't blame her, he was fine.”

    “And he was totally making heart eyes at you too!”

    Dina looked at Bee. “Really?”

    “Yeah! You didn't notice?”

    “She obviously didn't notice, she was too much in the clouds, couldn't even take his order properly.” Shanda joked.

    “Hey. I took his order, I didn't make any mistakes!” Dina frowned. “You guys are bullies. This is out right bullying.”

    Shanda, Jazzy and Bee just laughed.

    Jazzy leant against the counter. “So, did you get his number or anything?” she asked.

    Dina shook her head. Maybe she should have been bold and at least ask for any socials. And the disappointed looks on her friends faces didn't make her feel any better.

    “Well that's unfortunate.” Bee pouted. “He was really cute too. And so was his friend.”

    The girls didn't have time to sulk for costumers started to show up. Back to work for them...

    It's was a busy day after that. They had quite a lot of people coming to order and taking pictures. Dina was quite confused by the lots of tourists that came, but she wasn't complaining. But she and Bee had to stay for the whole day since there were too many people for just Shanda and Jazzy to take care. Soon the day came to an end and they all were exhausted. The girls were chatting and cleaning, getting ready to lock up. It was quite crazy how busy today was. It was a great day although her friends were still sulking over the lost opportunity. 

    “Didn't he say he'll try to visit again?” Dina nodded, answering Shanda's question. “Then if he does, you better ask for his number or something!”

    “He seems quite familiar to me.. can't seem to place him though.” Bee asked, pausing her mopping.

    “Maybe he looks similar to someone you know.”

    “Yeah.. maybe.”

    The girls quickly finished the chores, wanting to go to their beds and lie down after the busy day. Then Dina locked up the shop. She already knew she was going to sleep until the afternoon, an hour before her shift starts...

⪩⪨

    There were lots going on around him, vocal warm ups, the kids getting their makeup on, last minute fitting, staff preparing things and casual conversations this Friday night. Chan was sitting, getting his makeup done. His thoughts, he tried to keep them in track on the performance he was about to do. But Dina somehow kept coming up. He thought about her every waking hour. It's like he couldn't forget about her. Always interfering in his thoughts. And always, a rosy feeling following after those thoughts and that said feeling was quite foreign to him. He was deep in thought when his stylist told him she was done with his makeup. He thanked and took out his phone. The stylist noona gave him a concerned look, so he pretended nothing was wrong by going on his phone. I mean nothing was wrong right? He needed a distraction... He went on TikTok, stalking STAYs since that's what he liked to do during his free time.

    He was quiet surprised and confused. STAYs had somehow found Dina's Coffee shop. He hadn't even tagged the location neither had Jisung... Wow that was quite scary actually. Yeah maybe TikTok wasn't a good distraction.. Chan turned off his phone with a sigh. He decided to finish drinking the rest of the coffee his manager got him. He had specifically requested coffee from Eggy's coffee. He got another frosty vanilla bean latte. Yeah yeah go ahead and make fun of him. Even his manager gave him a weird look for asking for the drink earlier since it wasn't something he typically ordered. The last of the sweet drink was all gone. He sighed once again. His bandmates looked at him, a concerned look on their faces.

    Fortunately, their manager called. 10 minutes till stage. Chan had an excuse to ignore their concerned looks and went to go check on everything with the staff. There were cameras again. They usually had cameras recording, for their lollapalooza BTS video or for any event in general. While Chan got up to do finally check ups, Jisung spoke to one of the cameras, Seungmin and Felix goofed around, Minho did vocal warm ups, Hyunjin did breathing exercises and Changbin got some makeup touches. He could tell everyone was a little nervous since this was a pretty big show. But he knew they'd do amazing like always. And sooner than they all thought, it was five minutes till stage. Chan gathered the group together, giving them all a pep talk and going through last minute things.

    “Okay, we're going to crush the stage. You'll all do fine, I'm confident. Have fun, go crazy and make sure you don't get hurt, stay safe. We got this everyone.” and to end, they did their group cheer.

    They all got into position. Chan took a deep breath. He was confident, and his secret motivation;

pretend she was out there, watching.

⪩⪨

    Just like she assumed yesterday, she did wake up an hour before her shift started. She quickly ran around her apartment getting ready. She didn't bother getting breakfast since she owned a coffee shop and could easily get breakfast there.

    When she arrived at the coffee shop, she found Bee already at the counter, taking an order. Dina quickly went to the back room and tied her Rengoku apron on. The back room kitchen smelled of muffins, both blueberry and cinnamon. She took a muffin right of the tray, it was warm. Bee or Jazzy must of baked these earlier... Dina quickly ate the muffin, gaining a tad bit of energy from the sweetness. She washed her hands and went out to the front to help Bee.

    The shop kept her busy. She had hope that he would show up today. But as the day went on, she lost some of that hope. She didn't have that usually ray of color to her personality with the costumers. Bee noticed and so did the regulars.

    “You okay?” Bee had asked her when the shop was quiet.

    Dina quickly nodded and gave her a smile. And before Bee could pry, Dina gave her an excuse having to go check on their emails. When Dina was in the small office by herself, she frowned. She made her way to the computer, might as well check on the emails...

    

    Dina sighed as she locked up for the night. He hasn't showed up at all. Oh well. There was always tomorrow.

    He wasn't there next day. Or the after that. Maybe she had gotten her hopes up too high. He'd be leaving tomorrow, that's what was repeating through her mind all the way back to her apartment. She really was mad at herself for not taking the chance and getting his number. He seemed really cool too.

    Dina unlocked the door to her apartment. She had barely stepped into her home when her phone started blowing up. She fumbled in her tote bag, looking for the device. She pulled her phone out, it was the group chat.

Bee had been spamming TikTok links and sent an insta post.

Beechrio <: DINZ I FOUND YOUR MAN😵‍💫😳

Beechrio <: NO WODER HE LOOKED SO FAMILWR

shanobu <: OMG IT IS HIM 🙀

Jazziko <: NO WAY

Dina stared in shock, the instagram post was Chris in her coffee shop. The post had over 900k likes! Who was this man? She couldn't help but stalk his ig... He had to be a model or something... With shaky hands she searched up his name. She read the first thing that showed up, He was in a kpop group called Stray Kids and he was also the leader of that said group. She couldn't believe she just casually met someone this famous and that he possibly had been flirting with her.

    She went back on the group chat which was still going crazy with her three friends raving about the group. She clicked on the first link that Bee has sent. It was an edit, from Lollapalooza. So that answered her questions to his vague answer... She went through the other links Bee had sent, watching with semi wide eyes. She also went through the comments, and found out he had a pretty wild fanbase... She didn't realize she had been scrolling through edits for about ten minutes now until she glanced at the time. Her head felt empty at this new found information. She needed to get ready for bed... She quickly got something to eat, heating up some leftovers from yesterday. She snarfed it down and then got something to drink. Then she went to her room and started getting ready for the night, puting her phone on DND since her friends were still chatting about in the chat. She went through all the steps of her night routine carefully. Once she was under her sheets, she sighed and hugged the pillow besides her. Just when she thought she could be in a relationship. She buried her face in the pillow, flustered from all those edits she had watched earlier. She remembered how his vains went up his arm as he handed her his card, his dimpled smile and laugh. She was sad and a little annoyed at the thought that there was no way he could be with her. She knew how crazy kpop fanbases were...

    That night she couldn't sleep, he was in every thought of hers...

    Dina had come into the shop late, this Sunday afternoon. She felt annoyed by the lack of sleep, she could barely function. It was unfair that he swirled everywhere in her thoughts but there was nothing she could do about it. Dina was mostly silent during her shift, Bee didn't even pry, letting her have her space. She just wanted to go home and sleep. The hours went by slowly. It was nearing the closing time. The coffee shop didn't have many costumers on Sunday evenings. She frowned as she looked out the window. Evening... He should be flying back now. He hadn't come visit once more. It was never a guaranteed he would visit the shop again... Yet why did it kinda hurt?

    “Hey.” Dina jumped slightly at Bee's voice. Where had she even come from?

    “Yeah?”

    “You look tired. Maybe you should go home early. I can lock up.”

    “Are you sure?” Dina tilted her head.

    “We barely get any costumers during this time on Sunday.. I can handle the shop, it's only an hour before closing. I'll be fine. Go home. Rest.”

    Dina looked at her, she felt bad leaving Bee alone when she had come into work late and now she was going to leave early?

    “Just go, Dina! You need rest!” Bee said pushing her towards the back room to get her stuff.

    “Alright, alright! I'll go home. No need to shove me, you prick.” Dina went to get her stuff and put her apron away.

    To be honest, her bed did sound nice right now. Dina said a goodbye to Bee before she exited the shop. The sun had set a few minutes ago. Dina looked up to the clear sky, the waxing crescent looking down on her. The air was cool on her exposed shoulders, it being 73°F.  Time to go home...

    “Dina!” A voice called out to her, making her stop in the tracks she barely began.

⪩⪨

    “Dina!” He called out to her. It seemed she was nearing to leave. But they don't close until eight-thirty on Sundays... Was something wrong?

    Dina turned around, a puzzle yet surprised look on her face.

    “Chris?”

    Chan jogged up to her. He smiled at her, he was glad he caught her before she left, he didn't know when he would ever see her again if he hadn't.

    “What are you doing here?” Her tone matched her puzzled face.

    “Do you not want me here?” He couldn't help but tease.

    “What? No I do... That's not what I meant. Didn't you say your flight leaves this evening?”

    “Yeah, I did.. but it got rescheduled to tomorrow.”

    “Oh.” She simply said.

    A bit of silence loomed over them before Dina spoke up again.

    “Did you come here for a coffee? The shop's not closed yet. I could make you something.”

    “Thank you for the offer. But I actually came here to see you one last time before I go. There's something I want to tell you. And there's something I want to ask you as well.”

    She looked at him, curious of what he wanted to say.

    “Well. Uh. You see, I'm in this group called Stray Kids—”

    “I know. I found out yesterday.” She interrupted softly.

    Well, it was bound to happen...

    “Oh. Well that makes it a tad bit easier...”

    Confusion appeared on her face again, he knew she had no idea what he was talking about.

    “You said there's something you wanted to ask me as well?”

    “Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. He had rehearsed what wanted to say at the hotel but his mind went blank. Damn, time to wing it.

    “I know we kinda just met.. but you're really pretty and I wanted to get to know you better. Truth be told, I can't stop thinking about you.”

    She was silent for a little bit before she spoke, her voice soft as the night's cool air.

    “I can't stop thinking about you either. And I'd like to get know you too.” Her dark brown eyes sparkled by the lights that shone from the shop's windows.

    Chan felt his heart flutter. Maybe this was the start of something amazing...

...

Should I continue this? :]

[sushirrrry]

CELESTIAL | I. LAW OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION 6.1k words - on-going story story summary here ** please be nice, this is the first on-going story I'll be posting!!

Tuesday mornings were nothing to brag about, especially when my statistics class started at eight in the morning. I’d gotten in the simple routine—wake up around six, roll out of bed, take a shower, eat some breakfast, and get on my way.

It was weird what our bodies did normally. The idea of routine, the idea of being simple. Creating routine was one of the easier things that I had been able to teach myself. It was scientific; learned behavior became natural to humans. Practice made perfect.

I always got ready that early and found time to myself before the sun fully rose in the sky. I didn't have a problem waking up early, I never had—maybe that’s what made it easier for me, though. I never bothered my mum about school, or never once tried to sleep-in because I didn’t want to go to school. Something about being up early was always comforting to me.

Well, being up early and being in school were both comforting to me in different ways.

Seeing the moon circle around the earth again was kind of freaking cool, if I was honest. My mum never had to worry about me staying up late and hiding under my covers with a book—well, she did have to worry about that a little bit— but mostly, she had to worry about me taking the telescope to the window so early in the morning.

The moment when the sun and the moon pass because the darkness is fading– everyone always talks about the sunrise, but what about the moon falling? I always liked seeing the change. It was when the night met the daylight, and the world turned over.

This morning wasn’t really like that at all, considering it had been chucking it down with rain since the moment I opened my eyes. The sound of rain woke me up early. I sat with the window open next to my bed, listening to the sounds of it pour off the roof of our apartment.

When six rolled around, I was ready to get up. I rubbed over my eyes, yawning. The glasses that sat on my nightstand were thrown on my face as I trekked to my own bathroom—thankfully, I didn’t have to share with my roommate.

I turned on the shower, letting it run for a minute to warm up. I shivered at the thought of the water hitting me instead. The warm water soothed me this early, breathing in the steam to release anything that had built up in the night. I let it run over my neck and face, feeling the warmth of the water wake me up.

The shower routine turned into brushing my teeth, towel drying my hair a bit, and doing my morning skin routine.

Once the shower was done, I chose a plain black sweatshirt with a hood and a pair of jeans, threw on my old pair of black Vans, and made my way out into the kitchen with my backpack.

All the lights were off still; Chase didn’t have class until around ten, so he was never up this early. He strategically chose to make sure that all his classes were later in the morning because he knew he’d never make them. I smiled to myself at the thought.

I threw a Pop-Tart in my bag and started to head out of the apartment, knowing that I’d have a bit of time to just eat on my way to class instead. Campus was only a short walk, but the rain was chucking it this morning and didn’t seem to be letting us even as I had gotten ready. I decided that I’d just hop in my car and head over to the building instead of walking a mile in the rain.

Parking on the street was the only option for our apartment building, so I hopped into my car and headed towards the main mathematics building on campus. As soon as I turned on the radio, I let the sounds of 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins in the speakers as I relax against the seat. I push my hand through my damp hair, annoyed that there were a few rain spots on my glasses.

There are a lot more cars on the road around the flats and campus when the weather was bad. Kids always decided to get rides or drive to class themselves, which meant that parking was like receiving a trophy. There were only a few spots here and there.

But, because I was prompt and on time, I got a spot close to the door that I had to go into. I put the car in park, sitting for a moment before I went to grab the Pop-Tart from my bag. I opened it, taking a bite of one of them as I relaxed in the seat and let the sound of the radio mix with the sound of the rain.

It didn’t bother me that I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet that morning. Life was usually quiet. There were people who I knew needed to have that connection of someone else around them. I never understood that.

Silence and the solace seemed to comfort me in a way that wasn’t too explainable. I knew that people worried about it—people saw it as a sign of something worse than it was—it was odd to people who didn’t know how it felt. But I truly felt more comfort in the way that my routine worked, rather than the fast-paced environment of always needing to be around others.

I didn’t let myself down, usually. I had comfort in knowing I was dependable; I would always be there for me.

I was at my own pace; I had my own comfort in satisfaction rather than needing distraction. I was able to work on my own life and not worry about having to work on anyone else’s. There was certainly a difference between being alone and being lonely.

My mum worried I didn’t interact enough, my sister worried that I wasn’t thriving in the space like anyone else was—she liked to project herself onto me at times.

“When I was college, I was at the bars practically every night. You can afford to go every once in a while, you know.” She’d tell me. In some respects, I understood what she meant. There was validity to her concerns for me. And I was glad that she was able to experience what she wanted, and she was able to look back and feel that it made her a better person.

But that didn’t interest me in the slightest, and I think I had to respect that for myself.

I wouldn’t be able to wake up early if I drank too much; it would throw my routine off, and I wasn’t interested in losing that, either. I didn’t want to not know where I was, or how to do something. I didn’t want to lose control like that. The people that I hung around with to study—none of us were interested in that.

I was interested in receiving my degree, I was interested in the mathematic world—I was interested in everything that was built up around the world. I was interested in learning why everything happened and figuring out scenarios that felt impossible and making them work. I was interested in logic and satellite launches that I had to live stream from the space stations.

In school, I was the captain of the academic team and won gold with the national robotics team two years in a row.

Now, I was finally in the part of life where I had always dreamed of having—studying astrophysics and mathematics at Oxford. I was following in the footsteps of only the greatest mathematicians and physicists of my generation, and eventually my name would be just as notable as his.

Stephen Hawking and Harry Styles. I thought they sounded nice next together if I was honest.

I check my phone, noticing I have about fifteen minutes until class begins. I throw my hood over my head before I grab my backpack from the passenger seat. The rain is coming down when I step out in the parking lot. I quickly make my way to the door, holding it open for another person coming in behind me. The hood hangs from my head as I take my glasses off to wipe the residual rain droplets off them.

The lecture hall that I make my way inside is old. It’s not been updated in so many years, but something about that makes it feel that much more incredible to be walking the same halls of some of the most extraordinary brains to ever exist.

Even if it’s for a general ed statistics course that I need to fill; it’s one of the easiest courses on my schedule this year. I didn’t fill it first year, as I wanted to give myself the most difficult courses I could my first year. I was excited to learn—and statistics wasn’t what I wanted to enjoy when I was in college.

So, I decided to add it in this semester. It’s almost October now—we’re a few weeks into my sophomore year. I’ve loved every minute of being here in this establishment, and I’ve loved everything that it has brought me.

My gravitational pull to this place feels right, and being in this class must have meaning other than the obvious need to graduate. Maybe something will strike—maybe a thought or something that the professor says will undoubtedly make me think about all the other unanswered questions.

I take a seat closer to the back; I think it helps me to be able to set all my papers out in front of me and be able to take notes where I need to. I’m not a huge note person, as I just try to listen. I feel it helps to just keep my mind open. Information goes in, and seemingly, just stays there.

I’m one of the first ones in the hall, but as the time starts to near, there’s around a hundred kids that take up the lecture hall—easily. It’s a gen-ed course, which means that it’s kids from all over the university. The row I’m in is seemingly empty; kids don’t always show up to class, a lot of kids like sitting closer to be able to see what the professor is drawing on the board to try to copy for themselves.

I basically teach myself as I sit with the textbook, trying to follow along with the professor’s words and everything seemingly makes sense.

I pull my water bottle out of my bag to take a sip. The sound of the room in seemingly quiet except for the professor’s words; my brain is focused on the ideas of categorical equations and numeric sequences before an overwhelming presence takes over to the right of me.

“Excuse me,” I hear the voice again, a bit closer to me, “Is this seat taken?” I hear as I stare at the front of the room. I turn my head to the side a bit in a little confusion.

She's standing there with absolutely dripping hair; her jacket is sand-colored but looks like it’s coated in water droplets. She has the most doe-eyed stare I'd ever laid my own on; her eyes are chocolate and amber at the same time and for some reason I don’t know why I can’t answer right away.

I’m not even recognizing that I’m staring until I can't let my eyes leave, and I watch her shift on her toes a bit impatiently before she looks at the students behind us.

“Oh– no, no it's open.” My voice is quiet, as the professor is talking only up ahead. I'm trying to pay attention to both, trying my best to be respectful to the professor and the girl next to me who’s trying to find a seat even though it’s almost halfway through the lecture.

I move my backpack from the seat that she goes to pull out, my hands place the backpack under the desk near my feet instead. My eyes try not to drift, but I can't help but watch as she starts to unpack her belongings. There's a notebook, which is undeniably wet, and a small textbook which we use for the class.

Also, soaking. Dripping, practically.

“Fuck,” She curses, her hands going to run through the dripping pages before she lets her backpack fall to the floor in a huff.

I can tell that her stress level is at a high, all her belongings are soaking wet from what looks to be walking to class in the rain. I’m watching as she fumbles her way around her bag, trying her best to wipe some of the water off, trying to salvage what’s left.

But it’s obvious that most of her belongings have been ruined from the rain.

“Do you need paper?” I ask her, my quiet voice possibly too quiet as she starts to search through her bag without acknowledging me.

She didn’t hear me. I adjust in my seat a little bit, maybe seeing if she would look over from just my movements. She was distracted from trying to piece herself back together, and I could tell that her brain wasn’t in the place to hear anything else.

I clear my throat, turning a bit towards her again so maybe my voice would be heard. “Sorry, do you need some paper?”

Her head jerks towards me, almost a bit in shock like she was surprised I was talking to her at all. I watch as her face goes from an anxious state to a more softened one when she sees that she's also startled me in the process.

“Oh,” She nods a few times. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

I opened my folder up, pulling a few blank pages out to hand to her. I see that her nails are chipped lilac when she goes to grab them.

The paper was gifted to me every year from my grandfather who was the one providing me the opportunity to go to college in the first place. Well, providing the funding for this adventure, at least.

So, in true Styles fashion, the small H.S. imprinted on the top with a simple logo of Saturn sat next to it. It was an official letterhead, and it was the only loose paper I had with me.

For a moment, I thought about forgetting the whole thing because in honesty, this was a bit embarrassing– but my brain and my actions didn't catch up as I handed her a few sheets and watched her eyes trace over it.

I can tell a hint of a smile when she sees the writing up on it at the top, her pen clicking in the process. In our lecture hall, there are over a hundred kids sitting and listening about chi-squares tests and the uses of categorical variables.

And I seemed to miss a bit of the conversations due to lack of concentration, a bit of distraction. That never really happened to me before, but this overwhelming scent of orange blossoms must have been trailing from her. An obvious distraction, but not one that I thought I would be caught up in.

I push my glasses on my face as I go to write down a specific note that was mentioned by the professor about possibly being on the test for tomorrow. I had caught that bit, thankfully.

The girl next to me sighs; the audible noise of annoyance is obvious when I look over at her. Her eyebrows are knit together as she pulls out her agenda, making more noise that just seems to be audible to me as we’re a few of the only ones in our row of seats.

When she notices that the notes of her calendar are also damp, she settles back in her chair for a minute.

“God fucking damnit.” She huffs. She takes a ribbon around her wrist. Pulling her hair back frantically into a taut ponytail, she holds her head in her hands, staring at the dampened notebook. “Could this day get worse? We have an exam tomorrow?”

I hear her words, and I'm not sure that she's talking to me or if she’s just speaking out into the universe. So, I stay quiet for a moment before I look up and feel that her head has turned to me. She was addressing me again, so I turn to see the amber eyes pleading at me as if I was the one who set the test schedules.

“I’m– uh, we really have a exam tomorrow?” She asks again; this time, I see she's looking at me with a worried glare.

“Yeah, uh,” I flip through a few papers to grab the printed-out syllabus to show her. I clear my throat, trying to stay quiet. “It's just going to be on basic inferential and standard deviation, I think. Maybe a bit of categorical stuff, we just learned that on Tuesday, but I'm going to confirm with the professor after class. Not hard stuff, so we should be good.”

I watch as she looks away from me for a moment, “I just…yeah, I don't know. Statistics and I aren't really friends, I guess. I don't understand it at all, and I already feel like I’m behind. It's only the third week– fuck.”

She sounds stressed, and I feel bad. I don't know what to say to her, because I'm still not entirely sure if she's talking to me or if she's taking to herself. I just know that I'm listening and I'm struggling between involving myself and leaving it be.

“Thank you all. Let me know if you have questions, I will see you tomorrow for the exam.”

The professor’s words made everyone start to stand up, grabbing their materials to leave. Her eyes look around the room in the same amount of panic.

“Shit– lecture is already over?” She says, checking her phone time. The way that her shoulders shrug down is so dismissive as she looks around at the kids starting to move up the aisles and towards the door.

“It’s only a fifty-minute lecture,” I tell her softly, trying to not make her any more upset. “Do you—” I take in a breath, wondering if I’m starting to intrude on her life and what she’s needing, but I still feel like I have the obligation to ask, “I mean, do you have some questions about the test tomorrow?”

I see her looking over some of the notes—some of the papers that weren’t completely drenched by the rain that I can tell that she raced through to be here. Her eyes fall down the messiness of the handwriting. I can tell that there were many times she messed up, or times she didn’t completely understand something and wrote in the margins. There’s ink everywhere, I don’t know how she stays organized or knows what she’s looking at.

The scratches over things are plentiful, and I relax in my seat rather than starting to get up like everyone else.

Maybe she doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s our first exam in this class, but I’m not worried about it in the slightest bit. I’ve passed through Calculus and Algebra, and since this is just a required class for graduation, I know that I don’t have to worry.

She starts to shake her head as she looks flustered, throwing her papers back into a folder with finality.

“I’m not trying to hold you up, you probably need to get somewhere—I'll just, um, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, zipping up her backpack quickly.

She’s trying her best to get away, and I can see that she’s possibly a bit embarrassed by how quickly she came in. How she wasn’t just late to class, but she also didn’t seem to have any idea about what was going on in the first place.

It seemed that maybe she had something else on her mind, and I don’t thinks he can be faulted for that.

“No,” I shake my head, standing up with my backpack to mimic her. It hangs from my shoulder on one side, pulling it up a bit as I watch the lecture hall clearing out quite quickly. “No, I’m not in a hurry. I mean—”

“Just—thanks for the paper. That was nice of you.” The girl gives a soft smile, the softest smile that her face can seem to manage as I notice that she seems to be a bit upset. Her back turns to me and I’m now left standing there with no one else now.

I look around for a moment, thinking about what I was doing before my life was interpreted in a way. My life is always so ruled by the way that I wanted to live it—I was not easily distracted, my mind never really went to places that felt fuzzy or uneven.

But something about that interaction left me a bit speechless. I don’t even know her name, but something about that made my brain feel a little bit blurry.

There’s another person down with Professor Turvel, asking questions about the exam for tomorrow, I was certain. I knew that I needed to go down there—to make myself known and question the best ways to solve the problems, to understand what needed to be studied the most. Most people didn’t take these kinds of classes seriously, but anything that had to do with my education was serious to me.

I always asked questions—every time there was a exam, I made sure I had all the notes to understand concepts and what would exactly be on the exam so I could stay up and ensure that I knew the concepts like the back of my hand. Sometimes, the professors even assured me that I would know all the material, and not to worry so much. That didn’t keep me from asking.

As I watched the girl moving to leave the lecture hall, opening the door herself because someone hadn’t held it open for her. An instinct rose in me that was so foreign that I hadn’t understood it before.

I didn’t know why I decided to follow her instead. But my feet drug me up the steps and towards the door that would lead out into the halls, where kids were now scattered. Her backpack was purple, a dark purple with small white polka-dots. It should have been a bit easier to find, but I just held my stance at the door, turning my head to see if I could find her.

I’d know her if I saw her, she was distinctive, striking, even. Her dark hair and eyes shone against the warm tones of her skin. When she came in, it was a curly mess—dark curls, practical ringlets.

I held onto the shoulder strap of my bag, watching as kids were moving out of the corridors to head out to their next classes and outside. It seemed that she must’ve slipped out, gotten away from me when I had been looking for her.

Letting out a sigh, I lick over my lips softly. My shoulders let go—I try to push the thoughts out of my mind. Instead, it was time for me to start to prepare for my next class of the day. I had a physics class just upstairs, but I would show up prematurely to prepare and write all my calculations on the board for the lab portion of it.

It was best to be early so I could collaborate with fellow students, and it was even encouraged to allow for that time. I pull my backpack fully onto my back, both straps on my shoulders as I start to head towards the stairs to the lecture halls that were situated upstairs. They were smaller, for the specified classes.

I pulled my backpack around my middle for a moment to grab the headphones that I had placed in the small pocket in the front for my short walk. When I go to insert the headphones into my ears, I do a double take because I’m not sure that I believe my eyes as they seem to possibly trick me.

Over by the large doors. Purple with white polka-dots. The phone against her ear is being held up unwillingly; she doesn’t look like she’s invested in the conversation, but mostly upset by it.

I watch as she shakes her head, her mouth stern as she speaks into the receiver. Instantly, she takes the phone away and shakes her head before placing her thumb to end the call.

I couldn’t make out what she’s saying because we’re still too far apart. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m staring, or that I’m listening in at all. My feet guide me towards the general area, as the door to the stairs is just around the corner from where she’s standing.

She’s standing there with her arms crossed, looking out of the door as if she’s waiting for someone. It looks a bit impatient; she’s just as upset as she was back in the lecture hall, and maybe now even more so.

I don’t know what it means, but it seems that she’s a bit off and I just can’t let it go. I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning, but my feet seem to only… pull me closer. I’d have to debate Newton’s laws of gravitational pull, because the Earth’s axis seemed to be tilting just a bit.

Wherever she seemed to be is where gravity was pulling. And nothing about that made sense in the logical world, so my brain was a bit scattered about how that could have even been a possibility.

In an anxious turn of my shoe, I head towards her. I pivot from walking towards the steps and decide that a soft approach towards her is an option that I’m willing to take.

“Um, I’m sorry—I’m not trying to interrupt,” I approached her, softly. As one would a wounded animal, like she might get scared if I spoke loud enough. Her head turns towards me, her fingers move up against her cheek as she tries to look more pulled together, like she was unraveling quickly.

I notice that there’s a tear stain on her cheek, but she did her best to clear it away. Something about that doesn’t sit right with me and I clear my throat as I try to not embarrass her by noticing.

When she doesn’t speak, I just shake my head a little, trying to make sense of what’s come over me.

“I—I mean, are you okay? You,” I push my glasses up on my nose, “Are you waiting for someone?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she takes in a deep breath. I watch the sleekness of her hair back in the ponytail cross over her shoulder when she stares at the ground.

I’ve always been partial to understanding when people were upset. I didn’t know what it was. My mum always told me I was just sensitive, my sister telling me that I probably watched too much Bambi as a kid.

Something about watching someone suffer endlessly, without another word, hit home. I didn’t want her to feel like she was alone, if she didn’t want to be. That was the difference—I wanted to be alone most of the time, so I didn’t mind. But that didn’t mean that she did. Maybe she wasn’t—maybe I was overstepping. As I overthought it, I shifted on my feet as she stood in a solitude of silence from the corridors of the university filtering out for the next sessions.

But it just felt like my heart was understanding right now.

“I’ve just had a... difficult morning, really,” She starts, shrugging. The problems are brushing off her shoulders when she looks up at me once again. I see that the sadness reigns in her eyes, but it’s being shielded by the layers of needing to show that everything was fine. “I’m okay. Seriously. I know this probably looks insane but trust me. I’m fine.”

There wasn’t anything I could do but trust that she was. I didn’t know her—I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t know anything else about her, and while I could notice that there were still tears welled up in her eyes, the smile had been the greatest mask of it all.

I nod at her, taking the moment to try to understand if that’s the cue to leave. When she starts to turn around just a bit, I settle with the idea that the conversation has ended. It’s ended, and it’s time for me to move back towards the stairs.

My brain recomputes that I have physics in about twenty minutes, and I’m going to go upstairs to dispute Hawking’s radiation theory of black holes. That’s where the gravitational pull is taking me next—it has to be.

As I go to place the earbud back into my ear, making a few steps towards the door that held the stairs, I hear the voice again.

“Hey,” Her voice rings out just a bit, as we’re now the only two in the corridor of the hallways. I turn my head back, our eyes reconnecting. Her eyes blink a few times as she lets out a sigh, which almost makes her look like she could break down at any moment, but I hold my breath. It looks like she had been holding in that breath for a while, so her shoulders drop to meet mine. “Do you—what if I did have questions about the exam tomorrow?”

I don’t know if words come out of my mouth in an answer, so I’m trying to compute what she said. Unfortunately, I think that she notices so she presses on.

“Like, could you help me study?” She asks, pressing on. “You said it was easy—I just, I need some extra help because I—I just have a lot going on.”

I pause in my tracks, not anticipating her questions or flat-out asking for my help.

“Oh.” I swallow dryly, as she stares at me with the slightest bit of eagerness for my answer I hadn’t noticed that in her eyes before, and I’m not sure that I’m used to it. I’m not sure that I’m prepared for how… she looks with hope coating her eyes. “Oh—yeah, I mean, I’ll be in the library tonight around six if you want to, like if you want to come study or something.” I shrug, “I can help you.”

I watch as a hint of a smile starts to turn at the edges of her lips. She holds the crossing on her arms over her chest tightly, as if to feel an odd sense of comfort from it.

“Can I meet you there tonight, then? You won’t mind?” She asks, her voice a bit unsure. It’s like I’d say no, even though I was the one who offered in the first place.

I’m still taken aback by the response of her wanting to meet me there at all. Thursday nights usually meant that the library was the quietest day in the week. Most people went out on Thursday’s around here to start their weekend—it was apparently the best bar deals, but I hadn’t taken advantage of that.

It was the best day to be in the library, just because of that.

“Yes. Yeah, of course, you can—” I pause for a moment, blinking a few times as I stick my hand out to her recognizing how I hadn’t even introduced myself to her yet, “Sorry—I’m Harry.”

Her eyes widen just a bit at my words before she starts to giggle a bit, her hand fitting into mine. My molars bite the inside of my cheek just at the grip, the softness of her hand in my palm has me distracted for a moment.

“Stella.”

Stella.

Stella. Stella. Stella. Stella.

“Star.” I say, a bit under my breath. She tilts her head a little bit at my whisper before I shake my head with a little bit of a laugh. I feel embarrassed that I spoke out loud and she heard, so I just try to explain the thought process with a simple shrug.

“It’s, your name, it’s ‘star’ in Latin,” I pull on the strap of my bag before I’m biting on my lip a little bit, “It’s a nice name.”

I watch as Stella’s face has started to turn into more of an arraigned softness; her features not as harsh, her brow isn’t knit.

“Sorry, I don’t know the origin of Harry.” Her chuckle is playful as she shakes her head.

“It, uh,” I rub the back of my neck as I feel an odd hint of embarrassment play on my cheeks, “Means ‘home’. Or something like that.”

As I watch her face, I study it as best as I can without seemingly staring, I watch her eyes move between mine.

I look away when I notice that she hasn’t—she’s still looking for a moment longer. I clear my throat to try to break up the instant staring game that we’ve started. I check my phone in an awkward angle to get out of the moment that has seemingly turned quiet, when I recognize how long I’ve been standing here.

9:26.

“Shoot,” I say quickly, “I have class in a few minutes. I’ll—”

She cuts me off as I adjust my bag on my shoulder, hoisting it up.

“Oh, fuck—I’m going to be late.” She checks her own phone to confirm the time for herself before the smile catches on her face, “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” Stella confirms, nodding a few times.

Before I know it, I watch as she walks behind me and towards the other door on the other side of the hallway. I didn’t even get a chance to ask for her phone number—knowing I’d stumble my way through that sentence.

Not really a sentence I’ve ever really asked casually before.

It was odd—that feeling in my brain. The feeling of blurriness, almost like nothing had been in there at all. It was like every thought I’d had was placed into a certain box now, unable to think of anything else except for the way that Stella’s eyes were merely amber and bronze all at the same time.

I shook my head, thinking that the physical movement may take my attention back to what I was supposed to keep my eye on. I put my headphones back in, moving towards the stairs as I climb them quickly.

I wouldn’t have enough time to write all my worked equations on the board. But, for the first time in my entire life, there was a feeling of ease that happened to replace the anxious voices that mirrored in my head. There was confusion; one unexplained.

Having to be smart enough.

Having to be good enough.

Having to be enough.

Logically, this didn’t make sense—this feeling of satisfaction that rested in my chest and head. It was like an overcome sense of relief.

Maybe Hawking had a theory to explain this feeling that had completely dismissed my thoughts and worries— it had complete trampled it, made me unaware of the worry that I may be late to class, or that I may not be prepared. Maybe it had already been explained and logic had nothing to do with it.

I shook my head at the thought, entering the familiarity of the physics lab. The third table to the right was where I placed all my belongings in the same routine that I had made for weeks.

This time, just another atom of a thought processes through my brain and into my cerebrum—allowing the thoughts to muster and to sit as I thought about what I would be doing for the next eight hours.

The library never made me feel lonely, and for once, I wouldn’t be alone.

And today, I was okay with that.

________________

THANK YOU FOR READING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS <3 please please please let me know what you think!!! I'm excited to share this with a new audience, so please be nice!!

[sirspazingtonthefourth]

Did You Miss Me?

Summary: Katsuki worries that you might be cheating on him when you don’t seem to miss him when he leaves on long missions. 7.5k, angsty fluff, domesticity, Bakugo x Reader

A/N: A story I’ve had kicking around for a while and decided to write and post. It is almost entirely fluff, with a little bit of angst mixed in. It’s aimed at military brats in general and I may or may not have written this to help myself deal with that trauma a little bit.

Content Warnings: Cursing, implied sex once, suspecting partner of cheating, might be a little ooc

You were terrible at expressing your emotions. It had always been that way. You never learned how to say the things you wanted to say, and you hardly even understood them enough to know what you felt at all.

It was one of the reasons you and Katsuki got along so well.

You two had met at the entrance exam to U.A., and it had been anything but a happy meeting. He’d thought you were stuck up, and you’d thought he was an ass. You both somehow ended up in Class 1A together, and had butted heads through half of the first year. But somewhere in that half a year, something about the way you saw each other changed.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, at first. The both of you sniped at each other as you had been doing for months, still insulted each other, still tormented each other. But somewhere along the way you both realized a fundamental misunderstanding in your communication.

Katsuki, you realized, didn’t talk with words. At least, he didn’t express what he meant with words. And you, he realized, didn’t either. Katsuki spoke with actions, and you spoke with body language. And once you both realized that, no one could tell the difference between how you two acted.

You both sniped still, insulted still, tormented still. But you were actually speaking to each other now, in a language no one else understood. His friends knew his actions spoke louder than his words, that he rarely meant his insults wholeheartedly, but they could not trade words without speaking one, as the two of you did by the end of that first year.

“How do you do that?” he asked aloud that summer, staring up at the stars from his backyard. The two of you had just had a silent argument in front of both your parents at your birthday party. It hadn’t been anything big, just friendly teasing about your choice in cake flavor.

“Do what?”

“Talk like that. You say things without talking, and you’ve started to do these weird… bird chips too. How do you talk like that?” You shrugged, laying down next to him to look at the stars too.

“Oh, the chirps? You just-”

“I don’t mean how you physically do it. How do you understand what I mean, even when I don’t say anything?”

“Because you do say things.” You turned to look at each other, and the look of contentment on your face melted Katsuki’s heart a little.

“Every time you crunch your nose when you’re confused, or raise your left eyebrow when you’re impressed, or scoff when you get embarrassed, you say something without even meaning to.”

“Tch, whatever,” he grumbled, turning back to the stars to hide the light blush on his cheeks.

“See, you did it just now, Pop Tart.” You poked his cheek as he pouted at the sky.

“I’m not a damn Pop Tart, whatever the hell that is.”

“‘Course you are! I mean, you’ve got such a sour personality, it’s a wonder anyone can stand you,” you said with a smile. “And when you get angry, you set your quirk off a little, even if you don’t mean to. It makes this little popping noise. So, Pop Tart.”

It was quiet between you two for a while, the sound of both of your parents talking amongst each other reaching into the night through the screen door. Your siblings were upstairs, keeping each other busy away from the adults. Maybe playing hide and seek, maybe just yelling at each other, speaking to one another the same way you spoke to Katsuki.

“Why do you talk like that? Without saying anything?” Katsuki whispered. You sat, still staring at the stars as you tried to figure out what to say. He almost thought you hadn’t heard, when you replied.

“Because words never worked for me. I mean, you’ve met my dad, he’s a bit of a hot head. Worse than you, sometimes,” you chuckle lightly, trying to push away the bad memories. “Someone like that isn’t in touch with his emotions enough to teach a kid how to talk about them, let alone how to deal with them. So I taught myself a way.”

You both kept talking that way your whole lives. Your classmates picked up that they could talk to you without talking, but only a few realized how to talk back. Katsuki, of all of them, was still the most fluent in that language, one you had spoken before learning how to actually talk.

You knew what he had meant in second year, when he sat with you in a tree after school, stuttering over his words and unwilling to meet your eyes as pink dusted over his cheeks. You had kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips. He knew what you meant when you pressed your forehead to his after, eyes scrunched tight and noses brushing together.

He had known what you had meant when you stood outside his dorm in the middle of the night a month later, dark rings under your eyes as you stared at nothing, looking so much smaller than you had ever let yourself be seen. He had pulled you into his chest, clutching you tight as you did the same, tears finally slipping from your eyes. And you had known what he meant when he rested his head on yours as you cried into his shoulder.

You stayed with him once your family left, the military calling your mother back to the States, your father and younger siblings in tow. The two of you had been prepared to fight on the matter. Fight for you to stay behind, finish your education at U.A. But it hadn’t been necessary. Your parents and his had pulled you two aside and suggested the idea before the two of you could even bring it up.

Your families had grown close over the year you and Katsuki had been friends, and your parents would have no one else house you if you were to stay. You both agreed quickly, and within two weeks of the conversation, you were moved into the Bakugo’s spare bedroom and your family had moved back to somewhere in the States.

It was the first time he noticed something truly strange about you. You moved on with your life almost too quickly. You adjusted to living with him and his family within a week, as if you had always lived with them. You never talked about your family. Granted, you rarely had, there’d been no need. Your house was practically Katsuki’s house too, your younger siblings had practically become his, too. Hell, he found himself missing them more than you seemed to.

But he brushed it off. After all, it was the middle of the school year. You couldn’t exactly let this shake you with the mandatory work studies and homework and all. And you still called your family, when you could. Time zones were quite the pain, but you made it work.

You graduated together. You were there when he and Eijiro opened their agency a year later. Hell, you were the first person to turn in an application to join, handing it to him the moment he clocked into the place for the first time. It was more a gesture, you both knew; you could have handed it to him that morning at the breakfast table.

Through everything, you both made communication a priority. You were both well aware of how you two couldn’t talk about your emotions to save your lives, so sat down regularly to talk things through. Even when your anger issues fed off each other and the two of you blew up, you would make it a point to come back later and talk it through. Sometimes it took a few days, sometimes you needed to talk with a friend to mediate, but you would talk.

You both wanted this to work. Katsuki knew that. You wouldn’t put so much effort into something you didn’t want to work out. Neither would he. But lately, something had been feeling wrong.

Katsuki and you both had started to take missions that required you to leave for weeks at a time. He always made a big deal about you leaving, getting a “last date” in before you left. He'd almost made you late for several flights because he didn’t want to say goodbye yet. When you were gone, he couldn’t wait for you to get back. He was antsier than normal, more likely to snap at the heroes and sidekicks at the agency. He called you every night before you went to bed, even if it meant he had to wake up at 3 a.m. to wish you good night.

When you got back, there was always something that had to happen. A date of some kind, no matter how small. He would be nigh inseparable from you for hours, showering you with affection the whole time. Whether he picked you up from the airport or you took an Uber back to the house, the first thing he would always do was pull you into him, smothering you in a hug and kissing you all over your face to make up for lost time.

But when he left… it was different.

You went on a “last date” with him, too, but it never seemed like you were as desperate to make the most of it like he was. You’d help him pack, sneaking in some of his favorite snacks somehow no matter how hard he tried to keep you from doing it. You’d kiss him at the door, or at the airport if you dropped him off, but it was him that always tried to stay longer, never you trying to make him stay. No one ever mentioned you seeming more stressed with him gone, even Mina and Eijiro, who could read your body language almost as well as Katsuki himself could after seven years of constantly being around you.

When he got back, you would have your own little celebration. You’d greet him at the airport gate, pulling him into you for a hug as he did for you, rubbing your head against his in a gesture that meant more to you than kissing him ever could, whispering how you missed him. You’d make a meal, cuddle under a blanket for a movie night that would often turn into something more.

But you were not constantly seeking to be by his side, like he was seeking to be by yours. You never pulled him into you like he was the last source of air, like he did for you. The thing that really made him suspicious was that you outright said that you missed him. You never outright said what you were feeling. You were too uncertain of how, usually.

“It just… it feels like they don’t miss me when I’m gone,” he confessed to Eijiro. It was one of his days off while you were gone, something he hated since it meant he had nothing to do and you weren’t there. The two of them were sitting in a nice cafe in a back corner, away from windows with hats pulled low to hopefully avoid being spotted.

“Have you guys talked about it yet?” the red-head asked. “If it’s really bothering you that much you know they wouldn’t brush you off.” Katsuki’s leg was bouncing under the table, and he raised the paper coffee cup to his lips. It was good coffee, one of your favorite places, in fact.

“It’s just… what if there’s someone else?” Eijiro choked a little, setting the cup down and turning his head as he tried to hack up the coffee that had gone down the wrong pipe.

“I know, I don’t think they’d do that either, but-”

“Clearly you do, if you’re bringing it up. Seriously, man, talk to them. As soon as you can. What even makes you think that, anyway? You know how they feel about stuff like that. They can’t even stand when two love interests try to kiss when one of them is in a relationship, and that’s TV.”

Katsuki rubbed at his face, shaking his head. His hand came to rest on his mouth as he tried to form into words what he was thinking. There was an old coffee stain on the edge of the wooden table. He remembered it from one of your first dates. Someone had closed the cash register too loudly and you’d jumped, spilling coffee over the table and your leg. It was an old joke between you both, now.

“I don’t really know. But… they don’t seem like they miss me, and I can’t think of another reason they wouldn’t. It doesn’t make any sense!” His hands ran into his hair, tugging on the strands as his hat began to ride up. Eijiro let out a sigh, the two of them oblivious to the growing noise in the cafe.

“Whatever you decide to do, it should probably be face to face. This is not the kind of conversation you have with someone over the phone.”

“You got that right,” Katsuki mumbled, hands pushing his hat further up his head.

“Mommy, look! It’s Dynamight!” Oh shit.

The day you got back was tense. All the usual things Katsuki would have planned were canceled. Eijiro was right, he needed to talk to you about this. He asked Mina and Eijiro to show up, just in case it turned into a fight. He prayed it wouldn’t.

He picked you up at the airport, pulled you into him like he always did, but you knew something was wrong. His shoulders were tense, and he had looked nervous when you saw him. He pulled away faster than normal, hands on your shoulders to tell you he meant business.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about tonight.”

You were tired. You’d just gotten off a four hour flight, the mission had been exhausting, and you hadn’t slept right since you left home. You never slept right without Katsuki around. The part of you that sounded like your dad told you to brush him off, reprimand him for asking this of you so soon after your arrival.

The rest of you told that part to shove it. Katsuki was worried, and he wanted to talk about something. You owed it to him as your partner to talk it over with him, whatever it turned out to be.

“Of course, Love. Am I allowed to change beforehand?” You cracked a small smile, resting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder so he knew you were taking him seriously, so he knew the joke wasn’t meant to be a jab. He smiled in return, resting his head against yours.

“I guess.”

Katsuki’s prayers were answered. The conversation didn’t turn into a fight. In fact, it didn’t happen at all. Almost as soon as he got home, right as you left to change into clothes that didn’t “reek of plane and airport,” as you liked to put it, his manager called.

“Hello, Dynamight. I know this is short notice, but there’s been an emergency in Okinawa. It’s all hands on deck over there, and we need you to get over there. There’s a plane leaving in five hours, we need you on it. I’ll text you the details.”

“The hell? I have the next two days off and Y/N just got back!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but this came directly from the Commission. I tried to keep you out of it, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry. It’s supposed to take a month, that was the shortest they would allow you to stay.”

“Tch… fine. Send me the details. I’ll be there.”

“Will do, sir. Sorry, again.”

The line went dead, and Katsuki wanted to throw his phone so badly. Blame it on some accident in the kitchen or something. He couldn’t make it to a flight if he didn’t know where it was, and he couldn’t get the information if he never got that text from his manager.

“You have to go in, don’t you?” Katsuki turned to you. You were on top of the stairs in your favorite pair of pants and an old All Might t-shirt you had stolen from his side of the closet. You still looked tired from the flight, but you gestured for him to come up.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-” You pulled him into a kiss, letting him hold you as you did. When he pulled away, he rested his head on yours, noses touching.

“It’s fine. I know you would have stayed if you could. We can talk about that thing when you get back, okay? Now come on. How long do you have to pack?”

“A couple hours at best. The flight leaves in five hours,” he said. You closed your eyes and nodded softly, taking the information in. You were no doubt already planning what he would need. He could do it himself, you both knew, but it was something you cherished doing with him.

“Alright. How long?”

“A month. But it’s an emergency situation, so it might go longer.” You nodded, pulling your head away and holding his hand as you looked into his eyes. The look you gave him, tired but full of love, made him feel awful for what he wanted to talk to you about.

“Let’s get packing, then.”

When he got to the hotel he would be staying in, he wanted to just collapse. But he was still in outside clothes, and he refused to go to bed without pajamas. He dug into his bag for where you always packed the comfy pants he liked sleeping in.

They were a pair you had ordered for yourself last year with angry chihuahuas, but you’d gotten them in the wrong size. You had been rather upset, excited for the new pair of silly pajama pants, and he had immediately taken them and put them on, fully expecting them to be so ridiculously not his size that it made you laugh. He had not expected them fit him perfectly, and when he walked out with the angry chihuahua pants you had been equally stunned.

The memory of your face when he’d walked out, utterly gobsmacked that the pants had fit him, stuck with him. You had been surprised, and trying not to laugh at his face. And then you’d pretended to accuse him of switching the sizes because he “wanted the damn things so bad,” even though he hadn’t even been in the house when you ordered them. It made him smile, even now as he pulled the pair of pants out. They were bigger and more crinkly than normal.

He pulled the couple bags of snacks out from where you’d folded the pants around them. A bag of extra spicy kaki-no-tane, and two packs of his favorite instant ramen had been hidden in the pants, and the pockets felt like they had some kind of candy in them. But most important was the note you’d taped to the snacks.

Come back to talk to me about that thing, okay Pop Tart?

Love

Y/N

There were a couple of hasty doodles on the note. A few hearts, a stick figure drawing of him blowing up a villain with a cartoonishly angry face, and a stick figure crowd cheering for him. Your notes were as cheesy as they had been in high school, and he laughed. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see you calling.

“Your doodles are still as terrible as always,” he said by way of greeting. You huffed good naturedly on the other end.

“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Art Critic, sir, but I only had a few minutes to make them.”

“In a few minutes you still managed to make my mouth bigger than my damn head. And the hearts? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had feelings for me.” The exchange felt nice, but something about it felt hollow to him. The nagging feeling that you had someone else wouldn’t leave him alone, making him feel guilty for having this silly little conversation with you.

“Maybe I do, or maybe I thought they just enhanced my masterpiece.” You sounded less tired than earlier. Maybe you’d gotten a nap in. Maybe someone else was there with you, making you feel better after a long day.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to sound as happy as you did. But it was hard. The doubt, the frustration, and the missing you all made it hard.

“... It’s really bothering you, huh? That thing you wanted to talk about?” He sighed. Even three hours and hundreds of miles away, you could read him.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to feel worried about something like… like whatever it is that’s bothering you.” He almost broke, told you right there what was scaring him so much.

“I… I don’t think I can talk about it over the phone. It’s a face to face kind of conversation, you know?” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. He could almost see you nodding, that stupid, warm smile on your face you used to reassure him.

“I get it. And I meant what I wrote on that note. Come back, so you can tell me all about it. Don’t think you get to die just to get out of talking through this,” you said, and he could hear your own throat start to tighten.

“I will. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Katsuki. Love.” He smirked at your unconventional confession. Though he supposed he wasn’t much better, for playing along with it.

“Love, too.”

The month dragged on for Katsuki. Helping with the disaster relief, keeping villains from taking advantage of the weakened infrastructure, and his worry made every hour feel like days. But he had a date marked on his calendar, exactly a month after he left. The day the Commission said he could go home.

Until it wasn’t

“Those fucking bastards! Changing the date last minute. They told me I’d leave tomorrow two days after I got here, just to fuckin’... Others are going home on time, but-”

“Katsu, hey.” You pulled his attention back to your face on the computer screen. Your arm was stretched out of frame, and he just knew you were holding your laptop screen. “It’s okay. I had a feeling.”

“It’s not okay! First they pull me here right after you get back, despite the time I took off, then they change the day I’m supposed to go home… Sometimes I just wish I was able to blast myself all the way back to you, so they can’t keep me here like this.” It felt like he’d grabbed your heart and squeezed it. You had to hold back a couple tears, and you resolved to call your mother about it later. You owed her… you weren’t sure what, but you owed her something.

Katsuki was just sitting silent on the other end, staring at you for a minute.

“What do you mean, you had a feeling?” There was the edge of suspicion in his voice, and it cut. You didn’t know what he suspected of you, but it hurt that he did at all.

“It was like this with Mom a lot. Anytime she would tell us when she was going to come home, it would get changed. It’s why I told you not to tell me, it’s bad luck.”

“But I’ve told you when I’ll come home before, and you’ve told me too. It hasn’t changed before. The Commission’s just being-”

“A government entity that doesn’t care about either of us beyond numbers in a list. Pieces to push around on the board. The other times were with other agencies, and agencies care about their heroes because their heroes are the ones running the agencies. The Commission doesn’t give a shit.”

He sighed on the other end. He was laying on his stomach talking to you, chin in his hand as he turned his head away. His elbow braced him against the bed, and his feet kicked up behind him. He would kill you if you mentioned that he kicked his feet up like a teen girl on her phone to anyone. It made it that much more funny to you.

“It sucks. I just wanna get home, and now I have to wait another week.”

“Check the inside pocket on your suitcase,” you said, a mischievous little smirk starting on your face.

“You didn’t.”

“You won’t know unless you look~!” You sang. He huffed, going off screen to check his bag. It took too long.

“The other pocket,” you yelled. You heard the telltale crinkling of the bag of wasabi kaki-no-tane and Katsuki cursing you as he stomped back to the bed.

“How the fuck do you always manage to sneak these things in?! I swear, you have a second quirk you aren’t telling me about,” he said, opening the bag and grabbing a few pieces.

“Sure I do. Not my fault you never check your bag,” You shot back.

“I do! And then this shit appears out of nowhere!” You laughed at his false indignation. You knew he liked the snacks, or you wouldn’t pack them. Plus, it was a game the two of you could play, no matter how far apart you were. No matter how suspicious of you he felt.

“I’m going to have some extra time while I’m here. Anything you want?” He asked. You snapped back into reality. You hadn’t even realized you’d started to drift away.

“Oh, um… Could you bring back some brown sugar senbei? They’re super tasty, and I wanna mail some to Mom for Christmas.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll pick a couple packs up. We could just get some back home, you know.”

“I do, but the Okinawan ones taste better, and those cost an arm and a leg everywhere else.”

“So I hear. Anything else you need?”

“Nah, just the head of whoever made the decision to yank you around, but they’re probably here, which means I can get that myself,” you joked. Katsuki cracked a smile.

“Careful, they might be listening to you through your computer mic and charge you with conspiracy to commit murder. Then we’d have to go on the run, and you and I both know Ei couldn’t handle running the agency alone.”

“He won’t be alone, he’s got Mina and Denki and Sero.”

“Oh, yes, and they just inspire confidence.” You blew a raspberry at him and his attitude.

“You know damn well they can handle it if it’s all four of them.”

“You’re right, I do.” Katsuki fought down a yawn. “I gotta turn in. G’night, Y/N.”

“Night, Katsu. Stay safe.”

“I will.”

There was another delay in getting Katsuki home, and you scolded him for mentioning he had a week left. You made him promise not to tell you until he was on the plane and had taken off that he was coming home. You worked on getting ingredients together to make mapo tofu and miso butter cookies in the meantime. You wanted to have everything put together for when he got home.

You had a feeling he was going to want to talk to you the minute he got home, so you called Eijiro and Mina to let them know ahead of time that you would be calling them in to mediate. You didn’t think it would escalate, but Katsuki had been sitting on this for over a month. He might blow up after keeping a lid on this for so long. He had been adamant about not talking about whatever was bothering him over the phone, and you didn’t push him.

The minute you got the text that he had taken off, at 2:27 p.m., you started cooking. You didn’t want to cook the tofu until he got back, so he could have a fresh, hot meal, but the cookies could be made ahead of time. Once they were done, you did a quick round of the house to make sure everything was put away and clean.

You checked the time. 5 p.m. You grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and a packet of Airborne. You opened the packet and the water bottle, dumped the powder in, and popped the cap back on. You shook the bottle to mix the two together all the way to your car.

It was with you as you sat in the arrivals area in the airport, waiting for Katsuki’s flight. You’d been waiting for twenty minutes. Not uncommon, but you were worried. Had something happened once he got airborne? Had the plane needed to turn back? You checked your phone for any new messages from Katsuki.

The waiting was always the worst part. Flights weren’t always on time, and you hated it. It meant you could never be certain when Katsuki was going to be in your reach again. Or if something had happened that the tower just hadn’t found out about yet.

The relief you felt when you looked at the big screen displaying the arrivals and departures and saw that Katsuki’s flight had landed ten minutes ago almost knocked the wind out of you. He was safe, nothing had happened midair, he would probably be out in a few minutes.

Ten more minutes passed before you saw Katsuki walk out among the crowd. He had his carry on bag over one shoulder, scanning the crowd of people sitting, looking for you. You stood, walking over to him. He picked up the pace once he saw you, crushing you with a hug once you got close enough and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you said to him. His shoulders tensed a little. You’d said the wrong thing. Or maybe it was something you’d done. Whatever it was, you didn’t know what to do to fix it.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered into your neck, not letting go of you despite his want to leave.

“Okay,” you said, pushing your head into his through the ball cap he wore, waiting for him to let go so you could go get his suitcase. He did eventually let go, and you handed him the water bottle.

“Okinawa’s hot this time of year, and you just got off a plane,” you said as you handed it to him. He stared at the pink lemonade flavored death you’d just handed him.

“You trying to kill me or something?”

“Look, I hate it too, but it does work and I don’t want you getting sick right after you’ve gotten home.” He rolled his eyes, but did as you asked and drank the vitamin C rich water. You pretended not to notice him fake gagging after he’d downed the water bottle as you walked towards the baggage claim.

When you got home, Eijiro and Mina were already there. You had long since given Mina a key to your house, and Katsuki had given one to Ei. They were your closest friends, welcome in your home anytime, even if you had to fight Katsuki to agree to give them the keys. He’d said they could know they were welcome without having the keys, but he ultimately caved.

The worrying part was that you hadn’t asked them to come over or told them Katsuki was home yet. Which meant Katsuki had called them. Which meant he was also worried this would blow up. Not a good sign.

You greeted your friends before helping Katsuki carry his bags upstairs. He didn’t even take time to change clothes or unpack anything before heading back downstairs. That really set off alarm bells. True, you both had only been taking missions out of the city for a year now, and Katsuki didn’t always unpack and change right away like you, but it didn’t sit well with you.

You both sat in the living room facing each other. Mina had made tea, a small tactic to keep things civil. You couldn’t very well flip a table over dishes when there were dishes on the table.

Eijiro sat to Katsuki’s right, Mina on your left. That way they could signal each other without necessarily alerting either of you in case they needed to act without you both noticing.

“Okay, Katsuki. We’re both here, what do you need to talk about?” He took a deep breath through his nose, gathering his strength. His fingers were steepled, hiding the lower half of his face as he stared at the coffee table between you. Kirishima rested a hand on his shoulder to encourage him.

“Do you miss me?” he blurted out, looking you in the eyes. “When I leave, do you miss me at all?” It felt… bad. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling, though you supposed hurt was the best way to say it. 

“Of course I do. Why would y-” you stopped yourself. This wasn’t a blame-game, he was worried. “What was it that… that gave you the impression that I didn’t?” You looked away from him as you chose your words, but you brought your gaze back to his as you finished.

“You… you don’t act like you miss me. You don’t… treat me how I treat you when you come back. Or when I leave. It’s like it’s just a normal day for you!” His shoulders were tightening, and he tore his gaze from you, like he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Hey, man. Calm down,” Ei urged.

“Okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “What exactly do you mean, when you say I don’t treat you like you treat me?”

“Do you honestly not see it? I… When you’re about to go, I take every second I can with you. I feel like part of me is gone when you aren’t here, and-” Katsuki started to stand, and Eijiro stepped in.

“Sit down, Kat. You’re worked up. Take a breath, a drink, something.” Katsuki looked like he wanted to challenge the red head, but Mina stood too.

“Bakugo, he’s right. You need to calm down.” He sighed, collapsing back to the couch. You had a feeling he’d been planning on pacing, but it was best for everyone to stay seated. It was easier to get worked up if you were already up and moving around. Katsuki took a drink of the tea, wincing as he burned his tongue. You reached a hand across the table to him, and he took it as he set the cup down.

“... I’m different, when you’re gone. Everyone knows it. Hell, Ei’s had to stop me from blasting a hole in my desk over the stupidest shit when you’re gone. When you get back I…”

He sat, thinking about how to say wherever it was he needed to say. You rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand to comfort him, and he did the same.

“I can’t let you go when you leave or when you come back. But when I leave… you act like you don’t care.”

“Of course I care!” You interrupted. You winced as soon as you said it. Why was it that the tactics you hated when they were used against you were always the first ones you used? “Sorry. Please, continue.” Katsuki nodded.

“You don’t seem like you value the time before I go the same way I do. No one notices you acting any different at the agency when I’m not around. You don’t… you act like there’s someone else here while I’m gone.”

The bottom dropped out of your stomach. He thought what?

“And I don’t think you would, but I don’t know why else you would act like that. I mean, you don’t talk about how you feel, even less than me. But every time I come back you have to tell me that you missed me, and it just… it doesn’t make sense.” He spat out all at once, his free hand tangling itself in his hair.

You just sat there, breathing. Did he think you were cheating on him? Or was it just his bad communication skills? Granted, they were better than they were, but it was times like these you wondered how much they’d improved.

“Katsuki,” you said, reaching your second hand to grab his, “if I tell you that there’s no one else, will you believe me?” Tears were starting to fall as you looked at him. He moved his hand from his hair, wrapping it around yours.

“Promise me.” He lifted his hands from yours, leaving you free to hold your hands up. It was something you’d started with your siblings. The childish game of crossing your fingers behind your back to get out of a promise had taken hold in them when they were younger, and so to prove honesty you would hold your hands in front of you. Proof that you meant what you said. It was something you still did, no matter how childish it seemed.

“Katsuki, I promise you… I would never, ever, cheat on you.” Relief washed over Katsuki, the tension draining from his shoulders as he watched you.

“I believe you. And… I’m sorry, I don’t- I…” You rested a hand on his again, tears still bubbling op and spilling out from your eyes.

“What do you actually want to ask? Because if you actually thought I was cheating-”

“I didn’t! I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of another reason you would act like that.” He’d cut you off, but you decided to let it slide.

“Like what?”

“Like me leaving isn’t a big deal! When you leave, it feels like everything falls apart. When I leave you just… act like it’s business as usual.” he took a deep breath, grabbing your hand from across the table. You nodded in understanding.

“Do you think you’d feel okay doing the rest of this in private?”

“Yeah. Just… didn’t want things to get out of hand. Are you okay with that?” you nodded.

“Okay, Eiji. You heard them. We come back to find the house destroyed again and you both are grounded, ‘kay?” Mina half-joked. There would be hell to pay if she found out you two started fighting once they were gone. Eijiro got up to go with her, giving a last supportive pat on Katsuki’s back before walking out the door.

You took a breath, drawing back into yourself as you carefully put the words together.

“When you leave… I don’t know. I don’t miss you the same way you miss me. I can’t miss you like you miss me. I don’t know how, I guess.” You paused, taking a minute to breathe. You were already crying, and you still needed to explain. Katsuki didn’t ask anything as you pulled yourself together, so you continued.

“Mom… the first memory I have of her is when I was two. She’s in the kitchen making eggs. My second is a couple months later. She was in the desert, and she’d recorded a message to send to me and Dad. She couldn’t come home when she said she would. She… was trying really hard not to cry.” Again you paused. Again, Katsuki didn’t ask anything.

“That kept happening. Over and over and over again. I got older and older, and I started to understand what it meant for her to leave. I never knew for sure when she’d come back, cause if she told us it was almost a guarantee that the date would change. Hell, I didn’t know if she’d come back. And that was everyday for me for a long time.

“The point is… When you have to keep saying goodbye to someone, you learn how to let them go, even if it is just because you can’t remember how to hold on. You keep going because life keeps going and you can’t afford to spend time thinking about how they might not come back this time.”

You took a last, shuddery breath, staring down at the coffee table between you two.

“I don’t know how to miss you like you miss me. I don’t know if I know how to miss anyone, anymore. You’re right, I do say it when I hate downright talking about things like that, but it’s because you deserve to hear it even if I don’t know how to say it how we normally talk. You deserve to be missed. And… and I’m sorry that I don’t-”

Katsuki pulled you to your feet, guiding you around the coffee table towards his couch. You collapse next to him on the couch. He holds you close, and you do the same, crying, terrified that after everything you said, he doesn’t think you care. You do care, you care so much, but you don’t know how to express it. You hardly know how to feel it.

“Hey, shh. It’s alright. I get it.” You sag into him even more, relief flooding through you. He didn’t think you were cheating on him. He didn’t think you didn’t care about him.

“You’re shit at explanations, though. Did you really have to bring your mom into this?” he joked.

“Shut up, you dick,” you laugh back, tears and a little snot still running on your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know. I should’ve asked.” You gently swatted his shoulder. It was awkward, considering it was behind you, but you made it work.

“You didn’t know to ask. I can’t blame you for that. Thank you for wanting to talk to me about it. Even if you did think there was someone else.” Katsuki chuckled at you, rocking you both on the couch as you just enjoyed each other’s company, something you hadn’t been able to do in person in months.

“Can you blame me? You and I both know you could pull just about anybody you wanted. Long as you managed to keep your big fat mouth shut, that is.” You snorted, snuggling in closer to your partner.

“You’re half right. I managed to pull this fucking amazing guy a while back, and I didn’t have to watch my mouth at all. In fact-” you pulled back to look Katsuki in the eyes, “As I recall, he said it was hot after I cursed him out for making fun of me for being scared of a cash register.”

He smirked back. Your eyes were puffy, there were tear tracks down your face, and snot ran down your nose, and he was certain it was all over his shirt now. You looked a total mess. But you were his mess, and he wouldn’t give you up for anything. He brushed a thumb under one of your eyes, wiping away a lingering tear.

“Dude must have some pretty shitty taste to still like you after that, huh?” Your laugh came out almost like a cough.

“Oh, the worst. He’s got these chihuahua pajama pants that he insists he didn’t want, just took them cause they were his size. As if he didn’t go behind my back and change the size so they could be his.”

“And you didn’t make fun of him? I’m impressed.”

“Oh, no. I made fun of him all the time, even before that. Gave him this stupid nickname but he didn’t even get mad about it once.”

“Bet he loved your stupid doodles.”

“Oh he did. Absolutely head over heels for those dumb things. Never critiqued me once, no matter how awful they were. I mean, seriously, they were just stick figures.”

“He sounds boring,” Katsuki said, leaning in so your noses brushed.

“Oh, god, he is awful. But I’m glad he’s in my life, even if I don’t tell him to his face as much as I probably should.”

“Yeah, well, just because you don’t say it to his face doesn’t mean he doesn’t know.” You leaned up to kiss him. It was slow, loving, the both of you just taking each other in again after so long apart.

“Good. I’d hate to have wasted so many cuddles on him for him to not get the message,” you said, snuggling back into Katsuki. He shifted so he was laying back with you on top of him. You stayed that way for a minute, listening to each other’s breathing.

“You wanna watch something?” he asked.

“Only if you want to,” you said, eyes closed as your head rested on his chest, listening to his heart.

“I do.”

“Then turn on something.”

“The remote’s on the other side of the table.”

“And?”

“And I can’t reach it with you laying on me.”

“Sucks.” Katsuki sighed in mock annoyance.

“Can I at least get a blanket?”

“No. I’m the blanket now.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Fine, I’ll get the remote. But I still get to be the blanket.”

“Deal.”

[chloessleepystories]

First Time

“... And there’s plenty of snacks in the fridge here, and a pizza in the freezer in case you get hungry,” said Mrs Thompson (“call me Mary”) as we finished the tour. “Now have you got all that?”

“Pajamas at 8, lights off at 8:30, and then pizza and TV until you get home,” I recited, and grinned. “No problem.”

It really wasn’t a problem. It was a nice house, clean, and looked like an easy gig. I hadn’t met the father yet, but Mary seemed friendly. Smiling, and a toucher—a hand on the shoulder to look into my eyes, a touch on the back to guide me from room to room ...

“You really are a very pretty girl,” she said suddenly, as she leaned against the kitchen counter—almost as if she had just noticed. “Has anybody mentioned that before?”

I blushed, a little, ducking my eyes. “It’s come up,” I murmured. Truth was, people were always mentioning it, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I was small and cute and blonde, but I hadn’t done anything to be those things. I was more proud of my grades and my writing—things I’d worked at—but people didn’t often seem to see that.

“Oh, listen to me, first I’m talking your ear off, and now I’m embarrassing you. I’m just going to get something to drink. All this talking has got me all dried out!” She rummaged in the fridge and poured herself some lemonade while I looked around the kitchen. I had the nagging sense of something off, or something ... missing? What had I missed? Something in the house tour?

“Do you drink?”

“What?”

“I asked if you drink, honey ... Were you somewhere else for a second?”

“I wasn’t—I mean I don’t—” I tried to answer two questions at once and got confused. “No, I’m not old enough,” I said. “I just turned 18.”

“Oh, an innocent!” she crowed (which I thought was a little odd, as she probably wouldn’t have wanted her new babysitter to confess to being an alcoholic!). “Then you’ll just have some of this lemonade. It’s very good, my husband makes it himself. Have this glass, I haven’t drunk any yet.”

I was a little off balance, and flustered, so without thinking I accepted the glass and took an obedient swallow. I must have needed it more than I thought because I gasped as it hit the back of my throat. “Mmm, it’s good!”

“Isn’t it? Let’s see now, where was I ... Oh yes, another glass for me ...”

I sipped the lemonade again. It was tart, and sweet, and something else I couldn’t quite name. For all I knew, the couple could make lemonade with vodka—I wouldn’t have recognized the taste! It was very good, though, whatever it was, and I was suddenly greedy for more, lots more ... I guzzled half the glass in seconds.

A warmth spread through me almost immediately, my muscles relaxing just a bit. I felt myself smiling easily, and a little sillily. Sillillilly? A silly, dopey sort of smile.

“Oh my, I guess you did like that. Here, let me take the glass for you, sweetheart, don’t want you to drop it ...”

My vision was kind of swimmy and I felt kinda ... slow, and relaxed ... Happy! I liked it! I struggled to focus on Mary’s eyes again as she touched my arm.

“It’s so sweet, the way girls are raised to want to get along with others ...” she purred, stroking my hair. “From such a young age, taught to agree, to serve, to play along ... to do as they’re told ... And even taught to like it! To want it! To want to be a good girl ...”

Her hands were on my hips, and she was leaning over me, her face very close.

“You like doing what you’re told, don’t you, Chloe? You like being a good girl?”

And without waiting for an answer, she kissed me! Her lips were warm, and soft, and sent shockwaves through my system. My heart was racing! And I—I melted. There’s no other word for it. I sagged into her, pouring myself into her mouth and dripping down the front of her body. I offered no resistance as she opened my mouth with her tongue and began to explore the inside ... On the contrary, I sucked on her tongue hungrily!

I had never dreamed that my first kiss would be with an older woman ...

“Oh, you are delicious,” she said huskily. “It feels so good to obey, doesn’t it ... Feels so good to do what you’re told, without thinking ...”

“Uh huh,” I whimpered, leaning my head back as she nipped at my throat.

The palms of her hands were warm on my stomach, my sides, as she explored under my tee shirt. “Let’s just take this off, honey, you don’t want that in the way ... And you don’t want this bra anymore either, do you ...”

I acquiesced meekly ... Anything to keep her touching me, kissing me, murmuring into my ear ...

“Mmmmm ... What beautifully perky breasts you have, sugar! And with such big fat nipples ... I know these must be extra sensitive, huh?”

I moaned as she stroked them, pinched them, cupping my boobs in her warm hands as she teased my nipples. I couldn’t think straight! Couldn’t think of anything except that I would do whatever she wanted as long as she kept making me feel like this ...

“Well well well ...” came another voice, and my eyes flew open at his deep baritone, and the knowing smirk in his voice. “And who do we have here?”

Mary moved fluidly behind me, still stroking my skin here, there, and everywhere. I was topless in his kitchen, his wife’s hands all over me, and he didn’t even seem surprised. She nibbled my ear and pressed her tits into my back as she presented me.

“It’s our babysitter, honey! Look!”

“Another babysitter? You know, one of these days ...”

“Sshhh. Chloe, this is Adam. Adam, Chloe here is feeling very good right now. She feels like a horny little slut, don’t you honey?”

“Uh huh ...” I whimpered. Any ability to resist, or even to think straight, was dripping out of my drooling cunny.

“And look at these beautiful perky tits with big fat nipples, they’re so sensitive ...” She kneaded them, showing them off to Adam. My brain was buzzing, I was barely aware of anything beyond the unending pleasure.

“Why, I bet someone who plays with these could get you to do almost anything, couldn’t they?” she cooed.

I’d never really thought about it ... But it seemed she was right!! I couldn’t stop staring at her husband’s bulge, and I knew whatever either of them asked of me, I would willingly do it ...

He stepped forward. “Feeling needy?”

“Needy,” I nodded.

“Submissive ...”

“Sub- uhh ... Submissive ...”

“Compliant ...”

Another pinch, and my knees almost gave out. “Compliant,” I gasped. “Obedient. Desperate ...”

“Good girl.”

I moaned.

“Strip,” he said.

I hurried to comply, struggling out of my jeans. Mary helped me from behind, pulling them down to my ankles as Adam held me pinned with his eyes. He cupped my face with one hand, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I looked up at him, dazed.

“You’re going to suck my cock today,” he murmured matter-of-factly, and as soon as he said it I knew it was true. “Have you ever sucked cock before?”

“No sir,” I whispered meekly.

“That’s all right. I’ll teach you to be my little Chloe Cocksucker.” He slipped his thumb gently between my lips. “Suck.”

I closed my eyes and gently suckled on his thumb, only dimly aware of his wife’s hands stripping my panties down my legs. I was completely nude, sandwiched between these two fully clothed older people, and I felt so submissive. So docile. So eager to serve.

And it felt so right.

“On your knees now.”

I sank down, still blissfully suckling on his thumb. His wife’s hands were on my breasts again, playing with my nipples, calling them my “slave buttons.” I don’t know how long I knelt like that, my mind far away, just sucking and squirming as electricity shot through my young body in new and unexpected ways, as she whispered in my ear about obedience and pleasure.

Finally he withdrew his thumb from my mouth with a wet pop. My eyes only half opened as I leaned mindlessly forward, my open lips seeking, the way a sleepy infant’s mouth would seek out the nipple it had lost. As if through a fog I saw Adam opening his pants, and his thick cock appear. He fed the head past my eager lips, and my eyes closed again in languorous bliss.

I sucked, and the head kept growing. I sucked, and he kept pushing. That hot, pulsing meat filled my mouth. Mary stroked my hair and pushed my head forward as he thrust in and out of my unresisting wet mouth, filling my throat every few strokes. I had the floaty sensation that my head was nothing but a hot wet hole for his use—and that the rest of my body didn’t exist—and I loved it ...

Mary grabbed her husband’s thick hard cock in one hand and started stroking it into my mouth. She knelt next to me, playing with my tits, coaxing me to keep my mouth open, tongue out, ready for his seed. But just before he exploded, she stopped. “Not yet,” she purred, and slowly licked his length, making it lurch. A milky pearl appeared at the tip. She looked up at him, her eyes big.

“I want to see you in her pussy.”

They each took one of my hands and led me, in a daze, to their bedroom. Laid me out on the bed, legs spread wide. Adam’s cock looked massive as he stood above me, Mary lying beside me, and I started to get nervous.

“I think I ... I think I should ...” I started, but I felt my dripping slit throb as I looked at it.

I licked my lips. “I don’t know if I should ...”

“Sshhh, ssshhh, honey,” she whispered in my ear, as she began caressing my nipples. “Needy ... Compliant ... Horny ... Submissive ...”

My eyelids fluttered as I gave in to her touch, and her words.

He pressed against my tight cunt, opening me up. I gasped. It hurt, but it hurt good ... Her mouth was on my aching bud, sucking, licking, distracting, as he speared into me, inch by agonizing slow inch. Pulling out a little, then pushing farther in ... Again, and again ... The pain ... I wanted more of it ... The pleasure ... I wanted it to stop ... I whimpered ...

He bottomed out, filling me completely, and my outstretched feet tensed. My toes curled. I stared at him, a little frightened, as I watched his face change. His eyes grew heavy-lidded and hooded as his chin came down. He was a man no longer, but a beast, and he glowered at me through his eyebrows as his jaw went slack with raw animal need. As he started to pull out, ready for the first of many hard primitive thrusts, a little drool collected on his lip. I knew he would have no mercy.

And I knew I would be back for more babysitting soon.

As he slammed into me, she bit down on my nipple, and I threw my head back. That first scream was not of pleasure.

But all the others after it ... were.

[ovtsakaramel]

Colors

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

TW: death, mentions of forced prostitution

note: tried to match some things to Colors by Halsey bc I listened to Badlands while writing it, probably didn't turn out perfect lol

You take a glass of wine from the waiter. The bittersweet, a little tart taste from the drink washes over your mouth. A wave of shiver goes through your body. You've always hated the Capitol parties, especially the more "classy" ones. All those people smiling and talking like they had no worry in the world. And they probably didn't. Not as much as you, at least.

You ran your fingers over your dress. Glittery and shiny, the lights mirrored on the black diamonds covering it. It made you shine, it made you be seen. The long dress was hugging your curves perfectly, leaving not a lot to the imagination. Normally you would like the way it made you look beautiful, but almost nothing in the Capitol makes you feel anything but dirty.

It was all too much. All the stares, all the flirts, all the disgusting Capitol people eyeing you like a piece of meat, like just a doll for their entertainment. You rushed to the door to the small balcony and opened it quietly. Hopefully no one would find you here. Just peace and quiet. Peace.

You light up a cigarette and look through the window. Being on the higher floors of a skyscraper, the balcony was pretty high. You could see the whole region, filled with even bigger buildings, windows lit up like second stars. You could hear people talking, mostly gossiping from the party, the cars outside and the crickets singing peacefully. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"What you doing out here, Satan's spawn?" Finnick, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games comes behind you. You look him up and down. Today he was wearing more clothes than usual. A white button up, the upper buttons undone, and dark sea green pants, matching his eyes.

"Your stylist felt generous to land you some clothes this time?" You ask, pointing at him with your cigarette

"Yeah, lucky me. I had to get on my knees for this." He goes next to you, his back pushed to the railing. He takes a sip from his own wine. "Why aren't you at the party?"

"Even you need a break, imagine me. Just needed some peace and quiet, that's all. And you and your pretty face came to ruin even this." He chuckles and rolls his eyes

"That's what I'm here for. To drag you from the darkest place of depression to irritation."

"Yeah, and you're doing a damn good job." You chuckle back. Only if he knew how much he helped you. You may sometimes seem annoyed by him, but everytime he smirks and tries to anger you you relax, really relax. He's the only one who could make you feel like the games didn't happen. Like Snow didn't happen. Like... You didn't happen. At least not the most of you.

"Are you doing well? I heard about your little tragedy..." Ha. Little tragedy. Everyone you loved was dead. Snow invited you to his office one day. Offered you to please his precious Capitol elite, for the price of keeping your loved ones. You said no. You couldn't give him the satisfaction that he had some control over you. He, in fact, has. But you could at least pretend. The very next day you were alone. Your family members bodies were still in your house, their throats slitted. Some of their eyes were still open. It was quite the sight to come home to.

"I'm... Just gonna deal with it. I still can't believe that they're actually dead. I feel like my parents are going to lecture me any minute now about how I dress like a slut, or how I look demonic. And that my baby brother will crawl on top of me to pull my hair and spit on me." You shake your glass. The dark liquid looks sweeter.

"I know you didn't have the best relationship with your parents, but they were still family... I'm sorry."

"It would have been worse if I said yes. Not all of us are that strong to deal with it. And you sure are. If I was in your place, I'd probably kill myself." You trow the cigarette out the balcony. "Hope it falls on top of some Capitolites head..." You think to yourself. They could at least get their wigs burnt if they were gonna torture you.

"Very encouraging." He smiles. His white teeth shine in the darkness. His smile was one of the most comforting things. Not the fake flirtatious smirk he pulled for the Capitol. But his genuine, sarcastic warm smile. It could make you giggle, it make you melt. His smiles were the best drug you've encountered on. Fuck morphling, fuck cocaine. Finnick Odairs smile was what you needed.

You two stand there in silence for a while. The wind blows into your hairs and his loose shirt as you both stare at the moon. It was one of those beautiful full moons where the moon is a bright fiery orange. It had found a place between two tall buildings, peeking from them as if to stare at you. But the moon wasn't like the Capitol. It's eyes didn't make you feel like they knew all of your secrets, every thought you were having, stripping you down to your most intimate pieces of self just with a glance. It's eyes were like a shield from the Capitols. It's fiery color made you feel warm and safe and at home, even though the cold night air and party behind you weren't very cozy.

"It has ways been weird to me how in one second someone could be alive and then the other: gone" he looks at you, the half empty glass in his hand holding on for dear life on the tips of his fingertips.

"Right? What's the meaning of life anyway if you're gonna just die... Like yeah, your children and their children, but you'd be dead. You won't feel the happieness in seeing them happy. You wouldn't even know they're happy. You'd be dead. Nothing would matter. All of this life, gone, just for nothing." His words felt like a deep exhale after holding your breath for years for both of you. You wanted to know that you didn't weird him out and he was like he wanted to talk for so long.

"Why are we even continuing living? Just for the sake of it? Bc maybe tomorrow nothing would matter. We reproduce but the children we make are also going to die one day. And why are we doing things to keep ourselves alive, going through so much pain. Just to keep something we're gonna loose anyways." A pause "When you think about it... Maybe it's not that bad."

"What?" He looked at you, his brows furrowing. His lips parted a bit on the middle, the little wrinkles he got looked cute.

"Killing. It's just death, you know? It was gonna happen anyways. For the person that died it won't matter. They'd be dead. And for their close ones... They're also gonna die one day."

"It's just... Disturbing and dehumanizing. It's bad. Sometimes it feels like we're brainwashed to think it's bad but thinking that you can just discard a life like that, someone who also thinks and feels it's just... It's just sick. No matter if it doesn't have consequences. The fact that someone could do it with no remorse at all, to play God, to think... That they're that important. When it's just sick and twisted." Your eyes met his and he looked away. You look down and he looks back at you, trying to find your eyes again. His eyes were your favorite part of him. They're the most beautiful sea green you've seen... Like all different shades of green but navy on the ends. A little yellow that makes them even greener somehow. Like you were looking at the ocean. Bringing a sense of warmth and a sense of refresh in the same time. The little pieces of very light colour looked like seafoam. It was like waves are actually crushing in his eyes.

"You're right. Some things are just bad, no matter how much you try to normalize them. No matter how much you think it's not that deep... Even if it will all end, just bringing pain is bad. Even if it won't matter and it will be all erased, just for one second bringing something, some feeling like that to someone. It's bad. It's... Just gross." He chuckles. You weren't sure if there was humor in it.

You empty your glass. You watch as Finnick does the same and how the liquid goes inside of him, going through his throat and his Adams apple moving as he swallows. He exhales through his mouth and put the glass on the window. You roll around yours in your fingers, tapping on it with the black nails and then leave it there too.

"Are you could?" He asks, looking you up and down. But not in a weird way. His gaze felt more like protection than danger. Liked the moon that always matched his hair color.

"I'm fine" you say, but he can see how you rub your arms and how you flinch a little when you don't move for some time. He takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. It smells like cinnamon. You expected it to smell like some Capitol perfume that stinks of chemicals, but it smelled like cinnamon. Like Finnick. Most people would expect he smells like the perfumes or salt water. Yeah, he did smell like salt water in district 4. Everyone you knew from there had that little pinch on sea in their natural scent. But Finnick smelled like cinnamon. It was warm and cozy, but still playful. You inhale his scent and almost melt. He moves closer to you. You look at him. He looks lost. He looks blue. You also looked blue. You also looked lost. How could you live without your friends and family? You felt something creeping up on you. You felt all eyes on you, you felt tired and... Pointless. Grey. You felt them in your hair. Creeping up from the stress. Maybe they'll turn into whites. Maybe you'll look like Snow. Maybe you'll be as happy as Snow. Maybe you will rip and not be ripped. Maybe the grey from your smoke will draw a masterpiece on the dark night sky. Maybe that overwhelm will go away. Maybe you'll die.

"No you won't." Finnick says, cold as the air. Unintentionally you said all of this out loud. The anxiety dig it's nails deeper in you and you wanted to scream out the balcony and fall from it. Hoping you'd fall on some Capitolite and kill them. "We may act... Rivalry with each other. But... You bring me comfort. It brings me comfort when we talk with no mocking and just... Talk. It's a nice rest. Your voice is telling me that there are others that don't feel normal. That aren't normal."

"I did not find any sense in your words. But somehow I get them."

"Things maybe don't have to make sense to be ours."

"You don't make sense." You say as a joke and chuckle, you didn't mean to hurt him. As he just stared behind you you apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t- "

"Then I am completely yours." He said staring at your lips. Desperation was found in both of yours eyes. You both were sad, drank... Well, maybe you drank ymtoo much earlier and you're drunk. You could see in his lost gaze that he is too. Nothing had sense. Neither death, neither why you liked teasing him so much. Neither why you stared at his lips too. Neither why no sense had more sense. Why you two went close enough to feel your bodies touch. Why talking deep with him made everything a little more clear, like a raindrop on a foggy car window. Still blurred but at least now there were colors. Why you licked your lips. There was no sense in why-

Your lips found each other instantly and he grabbed your waist gently but passionately. Your arms wrapped around his neck clumsy but still enough to push his tongue to yours. You felt his warmth, his taste, all of them freeing you from the dark feeling of loss and grief. The sink left overflowing with your mothers body on the bathroom floor. You never saw her smile if it wasn't for others to see she was ok, which no one believed she was. Your little brother who you never appreciated ("Who appreciates a baby?" you thought when he was born and your parents didn't even ask you how you were after your games), sitting in his feeding chair, the light coming through the window and lighting up his face. Wishing you'd forgive him for just existing. Your father who you always lied to, who made you who you are. But he decided that color was not for him so he just yelled. Your blue jeans stained with their blood. You could have kept them if you just decided to take them off. But you took the right decision. Always keep yourself. But now the lips on yours made you wanna keep them and their saturated hope brought back the color in you. Color drained and lost from the lost of their blood. But Finnick's taste filled that white spot.

You two drifted apart for a breath and the emptiness came back again.

"Are you sure?" You asked him. You didn't want a nod, you didn't need silence. You needed his warm voice to fill the void.

"I'm sure. My room?" You nodded. Hypocrite.

You layed back down, exhausted. Your head rested on his chest,the skin to skin contact of your bodies making you overheat but too addictive to let go of. For a moment, you felt full. Full of love. Full of life. Full of warmth.

[crouching-mouse]

Ok you guys, it's apple season and this is the time of year when I become an unpaid shill for Sweetango apples

I discovered these a few years ago when I was trying out different apple varieties. I like to cut up apples and snack on them; I usually have at least half an apple per day. I was tired of Galas (my go-to at the time), had tried Envy (too sweet), Honeycrisp (too inconsistent and sometimes bitter??), and a few others that just didn't do it for me.

I brought home some Sweetangos and they blew my freaking mind. They taste just like apple cider. They have a thin skin with a nice snap when you bite into it. The flesh is the perfect consistency of firm but easily chewable. They're a good balance between sweet and tart. Did I mention they taste EXACTLY like apple cider??

The catch is that they're only in season from late September to maybe mid-December, and not all stores seem to carry them. I've found them at Fred Meyer, Safeway, and Trader Joe's myself, though it may be different in your area. If you're even a casual apple-snacker, you gotta try these things. I rave about them to everyone I know IRL so it seems only fair I do the same to my followers.

[gachaclubideas]

Part 2 of this is here!

@glitchychara (Glitchychara)

@matrixxdx (Gabrielle)

@jamesjexxisdeadlmao (Pelios)

@9mysterybook6 (Mystery)

@prometheus2007 (Promni)

@livesonya16 (Sonya)

@alinorianddrago (Ali)

@rhmis-user-2020 (Rhmis)

@rookie-choco (Rookie)

@ayelen0o0o (Ayelen)

@2laffy2 (Laffy)

@violetthediamondsblog (Violet)

(I'm going to use a spinning wheel for this, so it will be all random)

Gacha Tumblrs in The Purge

random person: The Purge now begin.

Glitchychara: Oh my goodness I've been waiting for this! *Gasp* I have to figure out where my enemies are right now because I think I should pay them a visit. Wait! I have a whole hit list, Let get started!

Ayelen: This Purge is making me hungry. I just really want a bag of Doritos.

random person: I'm about to get the last bag.

Ayelen: Nu uh! No you not! *killing the person*

random person: AHHHH

Ayelen: There we go. Whoo, tried to take my Doritos.

Sonya: So I stole this luxury car and now I'm driving 200 miles speed in the road. I think I hit like 5 people but who care! You only live once.

Laffy: *Gasp* Someone set my school on fire!? I wonder who did it? I mean it definitely wasn't me hehe. I would never commit arson

Rookie: Guess who just broke into a bank and just about to steal 2.7 billion dollars? Ah It's me!

Mystery: *dancing* Yas let's party!

***

Gacha Tumblrs in The Hunger Game

Rookie: I was fighting Ayelen for a Pop-Tart. I said I said “Give me the Pop-Tart.” and she just stabbed me like.

Ayelen: I am so lost. *Gasp* Some berries. *Eating the berries*……I think that was poisonous.

Gabrielle: Look that those pretty butterflies. Wait, they're bees! I'm allergic to bees!!

Violet: Hey Mr Game Maker, are you filming this?

Game Maker: Yeah.

Violet: Okay because I want to save this for later for when I have my reality TV show. Okay so basically Rhims came up to me and she was like- argh!? Promni why would you shoot me? I was having my Kardashian moment.

Laffy: Rhims please don't stab me. I was just trying to take a peaceful walk okay. *got stabbed* Rhims…😭

Mystery: *Gasp* Is that a snake? Aw come here, you remind me of myself. Huh!? Did you just bite me!? You're venomous!!

Pelios: Y'all I just made this amazing fire, it definitely won't let anyone know I'm here. Hey Glitchychara, how did you find me?

Glitchychara: I saw the fire.

Pelios: Oh. Argh!! *got stabbed* Glitchychara why did you stab me?

Glitchychara: *hear the bear roar* Was that a bear!? Oh my goodness, RUN!

Rhims: Okay only three more to go. Sonya, Ali and- guh! Promni, did you just hit me with your axe?!

Promni: Sonya why did push me into the lake? You know I can't swim.

Game Maker: New rules, there can be two victors.

Sonya: Ali did you hear that? That means we both won! *Got stabbed* Did you just slice me with your sword!?

Ali: This is a solo, not a duel. So where's my money? Do I get paid or something?

***

Gacha Tumblrs in A Haunted House

Violet: You told we were going to Taylor Swift concert. But this look like Taylor Swift?

Violet's friend: I had to trick you coming

Violet: Well you don't have to trick me leaving, because I am out.

???: OooOoOoo

Violet: Is that a ghost!? No, you know what I'm just stick with y'all.

Pelios's creator: Where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere.

Pelios: I was just playing this teddy bear that I found.

Pelios's creator: Wait did you touch it?

Pelios: Yeah why?

Pelios's creator: You could be possessed!!

Pelios: I could be possessed!? What- *being possessed*

Rhims: Y'all I think I can see the ghost of Prince Philip in the corner over there.

random person: I am not a ghost. This place used to be a nursing home when they left me when they moved.

Rhims: My goodness

random person: Look at that ghost.

Ali: That right here is not a ghost. That is just someone who need a haircut. Hey little ghost girl.

random person: She does not want to talk you.

Ali: No she just shy. Look, I have a coupon to this great hair salon. I can get you hooked up and everything.

little ghost girl: What?

Ali: See she interested.

The ghost: Hey so I'm the ghost of this house. And if y'all don't get out in next 10 minutes, I will personally possess each one of you.

Gabrielle: No I do not want to be possessed! Today is not the day, we gotta go!

Ayelen: If the ghost wants to fight, then we could just fight. I mean I fight the ghost.

Mystery: Come on, we just have to start the car.

random person: The car won't start.

Mystery: Really? Okay I just call the Uber.

random person: We don't have cellphone service.

Mystery: Oh my goodness, well I guess we walking home.

Laffy: Y'all that haunted house was nothing. If one of y'all want to see something haunted, then let just go to the bathroom at Walmart.

[impala-dreamer]

His Sweetest Dream

A Supernatural Story

Benny Lafitte x Reader

1,130 Words

Bittersweet Longing, Romance, Vampire Angst ~ Requested by @deanwinchesterswitch

Cozy Drabbles ‘24 Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The cafe was closed and the tables were clean. Wooden chairs were turned over and perched on the worn laminate tops. The napkins were replenished and the ketchup bottles were full and ready for the next day.

All was quiet. 

Except for flirtatious laughter coming from the kitchen.

“You did not say that!”

Benny lingered on her smile, on her beautiful lips, her bright, lively eyes. He grinned and threw his hands up. “I swear. That was the only way I could get his drunk ass outta here.” 

Y/N tossed her head back as she laughed at his tale and Benny tried to tear his eyes away from the delicate line of her throat and the supple skin covering her artery. 

He cleared his throat and turned away, busying himself at the sink again. 

“I miss the best stuff!” Calming herself, Y/N wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, clearing away a joyful tear. “I should work the late shift more often.” 

Benny wished for nothing more than to have her around every second, but it was too dangerous to dream. 

“Well, you gotta sleep sometime,” he said without looking back. There was only so much he could take and his willpower was dwindling. 

Over the past few months, Y/N had wormed her way into the cafe and his heart. She was kind and smart; beautiful in a relaxed sort of way that he’d never seen before. When she spoke, he was wrapped up in every word; when she smiled, he saw heaven. So many times he’d almost slipped and wrapped his arms tight around her, drawn her close, kissed those perfect lips. It had taken so much self control to keep her at arm’s length, but it was for the best. If he touched her, if she returned the kiss, it would be all over. He’d have to have her in every way, and for a vampire, that was till death. 

Sometimes he let himself dream of sweeping her off of her feet, showing her the darkness that lingered just beneath the surface of all things around her. He imagined her surprise and ultimate curiosity, the subtle excitement, the allure of being with him. She never ran in those dreams, she never flinched at his deadly kiss. 

She made a beautiful vampire. 

They lived happily together until the world burned. 

Benny shook himself to clear the dreams away. It could never happen. He refused to expose another soul to the curse that was his life. 

Y/N hissed behind him and he felt her pain. 

“Shit!” 

Spinning around, he saw her waving her finger in the air, batting her arm like a broken wing. 

He was at her side in an instant. “What happened? Are you alright?” His big hands hovered over her, afraid to land but more than worried for her safety. 

Y/N laughed at herself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just burned myself on this damned caramel.” 

A deep breath calmed his fear but staring into her eyes made him shiver inside. She smiled and he saw the blood rise to the surface of her skin, illuminating it all for his preternatural eyes. She was perfect. 

He was staring and she shied away. “I’m OK, really.” 

Benny pulled himself back to reality. “Just be more careful, cher.” 

For a moment, he thought he saw a spark of love in her gaze, a bit of hope. She smiled, reached for another apple, and jabbed a wooden stake through the core. 

Benny flinched. 

“Why are you doing this again?” he asked, rubbing at his chest.

“Because it’s almost Halloween and people like them.” Y/N dipped the base of the red macintosh into the bubbling sugar. “What, you never had a candy apple as a kid?” 

He laughed sadly. “No, ‘fraid not.” 

She swirled the fruit, coating it in the caramel. “It’s delicious,” she told him, with a hint of flirtatious smile on her lips. “Tart and sweet… sticky, crunchy… just perfect.” 

Benny felt his desire grow, his hunger for her swell. “You do make it sound amazing.” 

Y/N set the apple down on a large wax paper lined sheet pan and looked back over her shoulder. “You’re real cute, you know that?” 

His hands trembled, his heart ached. “Well…” 

Turning fully to face him, Y/N put her hands on her hips. “Here’s a little tip: you’re supposed to compliment me back now.” 

The look was back in her eyes, that tempting glow was bright on her skin. He felt the pull and leaned in. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “You’ve got me all distracted.” 

Closer now, she held her breath and looked up into his blue eyes. “Me?”

He hummed affirmatively and lifted his hand to her cheek. A bit of caramel was stuck by her lip and he wiped it away with his thumb. Y/N shuddered at his cool touch and held his gaze. Her lips parted enticingly and she reached with her tongue to drag his finger into her mouth. 

Benny trembled with desire as she sucked the sugar from his thumb, humming around it and swallowing slowly. 

He broke down and gave in, pulling his finger free and crushing his lips into hers. She accepted with a desperate moan and wrapped her delicate hand around the back of his neck, holding him closer. 

He licked into her mouth, savored the heat of her, the taste, the life pumping through her body. He could hear her heartbeat quicken; smell the arousal release between her thighs. 

“Benny…” 

His name on her lips was like a drug he never wanted to stop taking. He kissed her again and spun, pressing her back against the counter. She moved with him, breathed into him, lavished him in her mortal heat. 

When her hand pressed against his chest, he growled deeply. As it slipped down between their bodies, he panicked and backed away. Every bit of him was burning with hunger. He clenched his fists, clamped his jaw shut, turned his eyes from her face. 

“Benny? What- what happened?” 

Sadness flooded her voice and he hated himself more than he ever had. He should have never slipped up, never brought the fantasy to life. It was too dangerous, too real. 

He rushed to the door and gave it a push, pausing before stepping through. 

“Do me a favor and lock up?” he whispered, struggling to keep the anguish out of his voice.  

Y/N took a shaky breath. Rejection tightened around her heart and he felt it like a crushing blow. 

“Yeah. No problem.” 

He was alone again in the cold night. Always alone. But it was better than hurting her. That was one thing he would never do. Not Y/N. His sweetest dream.