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nolita-fairytale · 2 months

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something will happen | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: you and luca embark on another a big new adventure together: one of second dreams and second chances. the long-awaited sequel to 'burn your life down.' titled inspired by something will happen - berlioz.

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: it's really happening! i can't promise i'll be updating frequently, but season 3 got me inspired and i've really missed this world. this feels more like an intro than a chapter but here we are anyway. all italicized scenes are a part of the same conversation. i just wanted to play with something new so i hope it makes sense. lmk if you'd like to be tagged.

masterlist | chapter two

Late Spring

“Well? What do you think?” Luca asks you, the anticipation in the silence between the two of you palpable.

“I don’t know!” you practically exclaim, all giddy at the mere idea of it. You chew on your lower lip as you wait for him to say something next.

“I’m just saying. It’s not a half-bad idea and ehm… well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually,” he reasons with a shrug. He sends a loving glance your way because you look so damn cute wrapped in your twin-sized duvet that makes up one half of the bed you share.

“For how long?” you ask, cautiously.

“Dunno,” Luca shrugs. “Ever since Marcus mentioned it, I suppose.”

He’s almost too casual about this—as if he hasn’t been stuck on the idea for the last month or so since his friend had returned to the States.

This is most certainly not a lazy Saturday morning with breakfast in bed kind of conversation.

This is a paperwork and really nice pens kind of conversation

A big step.

Huge, even.

You’ve already agreed to live with the man.

And now this?

“Luca…” you struggle to get out on an exhale. “I just. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-.” You pause, collecting your thoughts as you shake off all your nerves before choosing to pivot.

“What if we just-.” you begin again, taking a breath as you brace yourself to jump over this specific cliff. “Total fantasy. No limitations, no logistics, then sure. Okay. We could talk about it.”

“Alright,” Luca accepts with a nod, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He sits up straight, pushing himself off of where he leans against the headboard, shifting so that he’s closer to you. The smile that spreads across his lips begins to grow as repeats your words back to you. “Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?”

—---------------------------------------

Summer

The dream was only supposed to be this—one where you’d begin living with your very sexy and very sweet pastry chef of a boyfriend—and yet, months later, as you move your things into Luca’s Vesterbro flat, your thoughts are consumed by ‘what ifs.’

What if you did it?

What if you opened the restaurant of your shared dreams?

What if your dreams came true with the love of your life by your side?

Opening Kokuore had been different. It was your first step towards your next chapter, one where you had moved to Copenhagen in search of a new beginning. But this would be… a proclamation: that you were here to stay, that you and Luca could be something permanent, that you could be more than just romantic partners.

Proof of a life well-lived and a life well-loved.

Kokuore had been your dream, your first, your baby. Sure, there’d been talk of expansion—maybe a bigger space, or something along the lines of that—but you hadn’t thought too deeply about a second.

You hadn’t thought about what would come next.

And then he did.

Luca.

“Need any help, love?” Luca offers, watching you scoop two stacked boxes up into your arms, ready to be hauled into the bedroom.

“Nope!” you heave with a sigh. “Not with these. But if you could grab the other three I’ll meet you in the closet, babe.”

He smirks, calling after you with a:

“And what do you suppose we should do there?”

You chuckle in response, your voice sounding further away as you shout back, “Let’s just unpack a few of my clothes, love, before we start taking them off.”

—---------------------------------------

“Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?”

You sigh, like you too haven’t been thinking about it since Marcus brought it up in the first place.

“Okay, I’m not ready yet,” you preface, cautiously. “But. If we were, hypothetically speaking, talking about opening a restaurant together… I kinda love the idea of a brunch spot.” “Like Marcus said.” “Exactly.”

“Slash bakery.” “Right.”

“Hypothetically speaking.” “Of course.”

For a moment, your mind gets away from you, running wild with the fantasy that’s beginning to unfold before your eyes.

“I think I really like the idea of it being a bakery during the weekdays when we’re open,” you admit, an excitement beginning to bubble underneath the surface of all your reasons why you shouldn’t. “Maybe we do Wednesday, Thursday all grab-and-go sort of breakfast stuff in addition to the bakery.”

“Kind of like a NY-style bodega,” Luca adds, building on your idea. “You know. With a little extra finesse.”

“Yes! Then… Friday, maybe, we pivot to full breakfast/brunch till the end of Saturday,” you reply, building off what Luca’s just said.

“Think Wednesday – Saturday service would work?” he asks curiously, knowing that most places are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen.

“We could try it out. Extend our hours to Sunday down the line IF it feels right,” you reason with enough ease to worry you a little. You begin to back pedal, your mind flooded with doubt. “But-, I don’t know, honey. Don’t you think Copenhagen has enough bakeries?”

“Not ours! Copenhagen doesn’t have ours yet,” Luca protests, as soon he begins to recognize what’s going on in your head. His excitement and passion alone might convince you to do this as he sits up on his knees, his body language expressing just how fully IN he is on this idea.

His face changes—he’s only just a little more serious this time—his tone light and voice gentle as he warns you with a:

“And I’m not letting you talk to yourself out of this.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost as if it’s a challenge. “So tell me more about this bakery-slash-brunch spot you’ve got in mind.”

“Luca Davies! I don’t know where you get off thinking you can sweet talk me into this,” you scold him teasingly.

He’s even faster to reply.

“Oh I think I can.”

And this time, you know it’s a challenge.

“Fine,” you concede to him, meeting him right in the middle of his challenge. “But I don’t want this to be all about my ideas. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s been thinking about it for months now?”

—---------------------------------------

Fall

Over fresh ink that’s barely had a chance to dry, you and Mathilde clink glasses in celebration of the very big step you’ve just taken together. The contract had barely been drawn up before she charged into now-your Vesterbro home, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, ready to sign on the dotted line.

A promotion, chef du cuisine, and a bigger percentage in ownership of Kokuore—a piece of your heart—now shared between the woman who helped you create your masterpiece.

“I can’t believe we’re really fucking doing this!” Mathilde practically squeals, bursting at the seams with excitement as she rests her arms against your kitchen island. The two of you sit side by side on twin bar stools, facing each other to the best of the chair’s swivel-ability.

“I know. It’s unreal and yet it feels like the right thing, yeah?” you agree, half in shock. Shifting gears, your back to business as you continue with an explanation of the ownership plan that you’ve thought long and hard about. “It’s important to me to stay involved, but most of my focus will go towards the new space for at least the next year. We’ll have weekly check-ins and Mathilde, I want you to at least consider some kind of ownership eventually in the hospitality group should we go in that direction.”

“I forgot you went to business school. It’s very sexy,” she teases, but the prospect of a hospitality group feels even more exciting.

There’s a feeling of familiarity between you and your friend as you begin to break down some of the nitty gritty details of the contract. With Luca out for a jog, it reminds you of the days when it was just you, her, and Jesper, exploring your shared wildest dreams. The nostalgia wells in your chest as you take another sip from your champagne flute.

You were really doing this and you’re so lucky you get to do it with your favorite people.

Well, with your favorite people again.

Who would’ve thought that moving to Copenhagen would bring you this grand of an adventure?

—---------------------------------------

“Fine,” Luca agrees, knowing that the way he looks at you only stokes the flames you feel for him. He’s got plenty of ideas, spent maybe too much time thinking about breakfast menus and laminated pastry doughs folded with all kinds of experimental ingredients. He hasn’t felt this creative in… well… since he met you.

“I love the idea of breakfast/brunch. And I’m already feeling really inspired by the prospect of getting to create a menu with you, darling,” Luca begins, ready to build off of your previous idea. “I guess my first question is… who will lead it?”

He’s not expecting the elated, “You, silly!” that escapes your lips without hesitation.

It’s not that he has doubts about himself, but you are the one with the business degree. You’re also the one that’s opened a restaurant before, so he'd be more than happy to let you take reins.

“Not that I’m going to totally love being on opposite schedules but…” you continue, this hypothetical conversation feeling less and less hypothetical. “...maybe I turn Kokuore over to Mathilde… spend a little more time developing this next concept with you. But. Without question, my love, I think you should lead it.”

It’s his turn to be surprised, your unwavering belief in him felt so deeply it practically takes his breath away. The only response he can get out is:

“I love you.”

“I love you,” you giggle in response.

“I guess my question for you,” you shift cautiously, as it begins to dawn on you that this is something you just might want as much as he does. “...is… is this something you want to do? I mean, I know it’s going to be a really big pivot from fine dining and-.”

“God yes!” Luca exclaims, relieved at the thought. “I’ve been dying to get away from the fine dining stuff. I-. It’ll be an adjustment, sure. But yes. Yes, it’s what I want.”

You nod as you process, listening to the conviction in your lover’s voice.

He wants this. He really wants this.

And he’s so sure.

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize you don’t have to have to suppress the feeling any longer.

“Fuck it!” you declare, as if you’re inhaling for the first time. “Fuck ‘hypothetical.’ We should totally do this, babe.”

“Yeah?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

A beat.

“So…” Luca trails off, the wave of excitement beginning to wash over him.

“What do we call it?”

The baritone in his voice catches your attention, and as you look at him, you can practically see it all. In Luca you’ve found your second chapter, your second great love, and now your second restaurant. The word falls out of your mouth as if it were destiny:

“Seconds. I think… we should call it Seconds.”

“I love it,” he grins back at you.

And now, you’re just as certain about a second restaurant, because you get to do it with him. Luca chuckles, catching your gaze once more, almost as if he’s about to say ‘I told you so,’ as he utters a cheeky:

“Well, love. Looks like we gotta call Marcus and let him know he’s about to own 10% of a restaurant.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down #something will happen #berlioz #the bear season 3

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m1ckeyb3rry · 7 months

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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // ONE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You meet Mai, Ty Lee, and Prince Zuko.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at writing for atla despite how long ago i watched it and how much i’ve written since then HAHAH. tbh i don’t expect much to come of it but oh well we’ll see how it goes!! also this is an alternate universe — the extent of which things have been changed will become more apparent as we go along. also apologies in advance if anyone is ooc, i haven’t watched atla in forever so idk if i’ll get it right!

There was a pile of glass on the nightstand when you woke up. It glimmered in the light, the fire refracting on the shards and forming tiny little rainbows on the wooden floor. Rusty streaks stained the faceted tips, though, and you winced as you tried to imagine how that quantity of blood could’ve made its way there.

“It’s yours,” a girl said. You startled, for you hadn’t noticed her presence, but it seemed like that had been her plan. She stood in the corner, her clothes a dull maroon, her hair glossy black and eyes a sharp, dark shade. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she regarded you, but her face was otherwise smooth, betraying nothing.

“Mine?” you said, voice cracking from disuse. “What do you mean? The — the blood?”

“And the glass,” she affirmed. “In some sense, anyways. Some of the pieces, we had to pull out of you, and others were apparently just lying around where you were found. At least, that’s what Zuko said. I’m still not quite sure why he went and collected it all to bring back, though…”

You squinted at the glass, trying to find some familiarity in it, but there was none. You had no idea why you would be surrounded by it, nor why it would be embedded in you. The girl waited for a second, but when you did not speak, she scoffed.

“Sorry,” you said automatically.

“We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for so long,” she said, an accusatory note entering her voice. “Zuko refuses to say anything, and it’s not like we can bully the crown prince himself into telling us what happened, so you’ve been our only chance at figuring everything out.”

“Oh,” you said, a migraine building behind your forehead as you tried to go through the events that had led to your presence here, in this austere room, on this plush mattress. “I — I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” she repeated drearily. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I really don’t. I’m telling the truth.”

In fact, you were rapidly coming to the conclusion that you didn’t know anything. Your childhood, your family, your home…there was nothing. Where your memories ought to be was a bleak stretch like night, barely interrupted by flashes of blue. You reached for that blue, for that lovely shade like sapphire, but it was always just out of your grasp, something you could never quite touch no matter how much you wanted to.

“How about I tell you what I know, and we go from there?” she said. You nodded, though you were only half paying attention to her. The rest of you was fighting back a panic that threatened to twist your insides, a dread that was rotting through you, both sensations borne from the fear that you would never remember anything again.

“Prince Zuko was banished from the Fire Nation and told only to return once he found the Avatar,” she said. “He found him eventually, found him many times in fact, but he wasn’t able to capture him. It’s irrelevant, though — he did do something just as impossible. That is to say, he infiltrated Ba Sing Se.”

You thought that you were probably supposed to be awed by this, but considering you had zero idea what any of it meant, you just felt further confused. Still, you smiled at her, hoping she would keep talking until something or another made sense.

“Fire Lord Ozai couldn’t ignore the opportunity. He sent an army to the prince’s aid, and under his command, they managed to destroy the Earth Palace and depose the royal family. The Earth Kingdom’s in shambles, and all but the most secretive resistance efforts have vanished,” the girl, who had still not introduced herself, continued.

“I don’t see what this has to do with me,” you said, ducking your head.

“Neither do the rest of us,” she said. “That’s what you were supposed to know. For some reason, the fact is that upon returning from Ba Sing Se, the prince had your body in tow. You were wrapped in so many bandages we couldn’t tell what you were at first, and then we thought you must be closer to a corpse than anything, but he insisted you were alive, and that we had to heal you.”

“The prince himself did such a thing?” you said. Even you understood what the magnitude of that title meant, what kind of person a prince was bound to be. And if that was the case, if this mysterious Zuko really was the prince of an entire nation, then why would he have sullied his victory with care for the brutalized body of a random girl?

“He did,” the girl said. “It was the first thing he saw to. Not the reclamation of his crown, but that you were being treated with the best technologies the Fire Nation has to offer. Don’t you think it’s strange? Worthy of investigation? Don’t you agree that we should be curious about what significance you have?”

“Yes, um, naturally,” you said, taken aback by the rapid-fire line of questioning. Despite her initially bland facade, she was surprisingly intense, relentless, even, the stark contrast between the two personalities enough to make you curl inwards.

“Maybe he loves you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at you, inspecting you critically. “I suppose it’d certainly be an explanation, though it wouldn’t give us any clues about who you are or why he might love you in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you said, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. “I don’t even know my own name, let alone whether I was in love with someone.”

“Don’t even know your own name?” the girl said, raising her eyebrows. “You really are pathetic. I’m impressed.”

“I can’t remember anything specific about my life. I know general things, of course. The color of the sky. The way the moon looks. But the history of the world, my own existence…these are things I cannot recall,” you said.

She appraised you with the beginnings of something like sympathy flickering in her irises. Clenching her jaw and deciding upon something, she straightened her back and turned to the door.

“I should tell Zuko you’re awake,” she said. “That’s what he told us to do, the instant you regained consciousness. I’ve put it off long enough.”

“Wait!” you said. “What’s your name?”

She glanced at you over her shoulder. You blinked at her, willing her to understand — that before you could meet this prince, you had to know something. Even if it was only as small as this girl’s name, you wanted to have at least one thing in your head, a word or other such piece of knowledge that you could cling to, that you could form a barrier around your mind with.

“Mai,” she said. She did not elaborate before slamming the door shut behind her, but it was enough for you. There was this one constant now — you knew a girl, and her name was Mai.

As you waited for Mai to return with the prince, you busied yourself with inspecting the room you were quartered in. You had mistakenly called it austere due to the lack of decorations hung up, but now that you had the chance to look closely, you noticed that the wall itself was covered with intricate, swirling designs engraved by a firm, steady hand. The blanket that had been drawn up around your shoulders and was now puddled around your hips was made of silk and stuffed with feathers, and its quality was such that it all but shimmered. This was not the kind of room that just anybody stayed in; it was a room fit for someone of high rank. A lady. And a lady you were not, yet here you sat, in this room that made you feel entirely out of place.

Only a few minutes had passed before the door slammed open, but it was not Mai nor any sort of prince who entered. It was another girl, as bubbly and cheery as Mai had been cool and collected. She beamed when she saw you sitting up and looking around, bounding over to place her hands on your shoulders.

“Hi! Hi, hi, I’m so glad you’re awake!” she said. You tried to smile back at her, but the exuberance was so jarring that you could not do anything but brace yourself against it.

“Thank you,” you managed to say as she shook you. “Who are you?”

“Ty Lee!” she said. You noticed that she had a habit of ending every sentence with her voice ticking up in delight, like she was perpetually thrilled with the world. It was even more of a contrast to Mai than you had anticipated, and you felt your head spinning as you tried to keep up with the differences.

“Did I know you before?” you said. She cocked her head.

“Huh? No, I have no idea who you are, just like you have no idea who I am. You sure are pretty, though! Even prettier when you’re not all passed out,” she said, miming fainting before beaming at you expectantly. You tried to laugh, but it was an awkward sound, clearly unconvincing.

“The same to you,” you said. “Er. Obviously, aside from the part about passing out.”

“Obviously!” she said. “Now, just stay very still, okay?”

You froze in place immediately, wondering what she was going to do but trusting that it would not be anything harmful. Or, perhaps trusting wasn’t quite the right word for it — you just had no choice but to obey, because you had no other metric for what was correct. Whether Ty Lee wanted to help or harm you, you couldn’t know for sure, but either way she would do something, and since she was only the second person whose face you had seen, you had to let her do it.

She jabbed her pointer fingers into your neck, side, and wrists, all in a quick, precise succession. You waited for something to happen, but there was nothing, and when she raised her eyebrows at you, you could only furrow your own in a non-answer.

“Felt nothing?” she said. You nodded in the affirmative. “Interesting.”

“Was I supposed to?” you said.

“I dunno!” she said. “I guess we’ll see once the others get here.”

“What do the others have to do with it?” you said. At this, she winked and raised her fingers to her lips, as if you two were sharing some silly secret.

“If I tell you, then that’ll ruin things! We can discuss it later, but for now, you have to keep it to yourself, okay?” she said.

“Why?” you said. It wasn’t accusatory; you were genuinely curious.

“Let’s just say that certain parties would not be pleased if they found out what I was doing,” she said, giggling nervously and glancing at the door. “And those parties aren’t the kind you really want to offend, so please just keep your mouth shut!”

“Don’t want to offend? Who, like Prince Zuko?” you said.

Before Ty Lee could respond, there was a knock at the door. She scrambled away from you, so that she was standing in the same corner Mai had been in, looking demure and respectful. It was like she had never spoken to you in the first place, and when she had arranged herself suitably, she motioned towards the door.

“Me?” you said.

“Yes, you!” she said. “It’s your room, isn’t it?”

“I would hardly know,” you reminded her. She considered this before making a face in agreement.

“Right, there is that fact. Anyways, yes. This isn’t a hospital wing or anything, it’s your room, which means that when someone knocks, it’s up to you to tell them if they can come in or not,” she said.

“You didn’t knock,” you said. Ty Lee cleared her throat.

“Ah, well, I’m from a Fire Nation family! People of higher rank are allowed to do things like barging in on others,” she said. “I can’t tell you the amount of times Princess Azula has stormed into my room without warning.”

“I see,” you said, mostly because you didn’t know who Princess Azula was or why she merited mention. “This must be a servant or something, then, considering they’re knocking on even my door.”

“Probably,” Ty Lee said. There was another knock, louder this time, and you swore under your breath as you realized you had forgotten to answer them.

“Come in!” you said, folding your hands in your lap and looking over at the doorway, wondering who it could possibly be.

To your surprise, it was a boy. He was dressed in fine armor, his dark hair tied back in a regal topknot, his features angular and his eyes a sharp gold. His face was set in a frown, but when he saw you, you thought you picked up on the faintest trace of happiness. Almost immediately, though, it was quashed by a scowl, so that you could not be quite sure if you had actually seen it or if you had just been imagining things.

Behind him was Mai, looking as bored as she had earlier, though she seemed marginally more excited to see Ty Lee than she had been when you had woken up. You supposed they must’ve been friends or something.

“You should bow,” Mai said, directing the statement at you.

“No way!” the boy said immediately, waving his hands in dissent before you could even move. “I mean, ah, she doesn’t have to do that. It’s fine.”

“Woah! That’s crazy, Zuko, normally you’re all about honor and tradition and whatnot!” Ty Lee said. “It’s strange to hear something like that coming from you.”

So this was Prince Zuko, the boy who had, for some reason, saved your life. He was the only one who knew anything about your past. Your name, your identity, your origin…if you wanted to know any of these things, then your best chance at finding them stood before you, gazing at you with an inscrutable expression.

“Your royal highness,” you said, not bothering to get out of bed but dipping your head in what you hoped was a sign of respect anyways. He coughed awkwardly.

“Um. Yes,” he said.

“So,” Mai observed from the spot she had taken beside Ty Lee, “she’s awake now.”

“I see that,” Prince Zuko said. Mai rolled her eyes.

“Will you tell us who she is? Or why you insisted on saving her, maybe?” she said.

“Why don’t you ask her?” he said. “She’d know as well as I would. Maybe better.”

“I already tried,” Mai said. The prince’s scowl deepened, the corners of his mouth tugging further downwards at the offhand statement, his eyes flicking to you before returning to Mai.

“Of course you did,” he said. “And what did she say?”

“Nothing,” Mai said.

“She doesn’t remember anything,” Ty Lee said. “Not even her own name. You’re the only one left who can tell us anything about her.”

Something in Prince Zuko’s demeanor shifted at that moment. A despairing anger warred with resignation and defeat, but below the surface, some other emotion was hidden, kept locked tightly away, something that he was suppressing, so that no one could dare to even attempt to comprehend it.

“I see,” he said. “Is that the case?”

He was asking you. You did not look at him when you responded, focusing on the pile of glass still stacked on the nightstand.

“Yes,” you said. “Your royal highness. It’s the case.”

Prince Zuko considered this, and for a moment, there was an eerie silence in the room, as you all waited to hear what he would say. Who were you? Would he finally disclose it, or would you be further stranded in the darkness?

“Ursa,” he said finally.

“Your mother?” Mai said. He shook his head.

“No, not her. It’s — um, it’s her. Her name,” he said, jutting his chin in your direction.

“She has the same name as your mother,” Mai said flatly.

“Yes,” he said.

Ursa. That was your name. You didn’t feel some great reclamation of your identity upon hearing it; in fact, it meant nothing to you, except that at some point, people must have called you that.

“Is that why you saved her?” Ty Lee said. “Because she has the same name as your mother?”

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s exactly why.”

“Really? We thought you might’ve been in love with her or something,” Mai said. “I guess this is in character enough, though.”

“How’d you find someone with a Fire Nation name in Ba Sing Se, though?” Ty Lee said. Prince Zuko gave her an irritated look; she only gazed at him innocently until he sighed and looked away.

“She had been taken prisoner on the front lines and brought to Ba Sing Se to be, er…tortured. For — for Fire Nation secrets,” he said.

“Why would they think an ordinary girl would have Fire Nation secrets?” Mai said.

“It’s not like Fire Nation citizens are easy to kidnap!” he snapped. “She might not know any vital information about the nation, but it was probably better than nothing!”

“Well, sorry for asking,” Mai said, rolling her eyes at him once again. It seemed her fuse was particularly shorter when it came to him, not that it had ever appeared to be particularly long to begin with.

“Do you think they got anything out of her?” Ty Lee said, in a not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject and break the tension. Prince Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” he said.

“I guess not. Not now that Ba Sing Se is ours and the rest of the Earth Kingdom has all but fallen,” Ty Lee said.

“Right. Even if they found out anything from her, it didn’t help them in the end,” he said.

“What should we do with her?” Ty Lee said. “Poor girl, she doesn’t even know her lefts from her rights!”

“Uh, I do know that much…” you interjected. Ty Lee paid you no mind, continuing to speak to Prince Zuko like you weren’t there.

“She can’t live in the palace like this forever!” she said. “But she’s like a blind little child, alone in the world. Where can she even go?”

Prince Zuko looked at you, and then he exhaled heavily. You swallowed, waiting for his judgment, knowing that he now held your life in his hands, wondering what he would decide, wondering what fate was in store for you. For Ursa. Since you both were one and the same, after all.

“Send her to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. They’ll teach her what she needs to know to be a proper Fire Nation girl,” he said.

“She’s not a noblewoman, though,” Mai said.

“Do you think the headmistress will argue with me if I say I want her admitted?” Prince Zuko shot back, though there was a tinge of insecurity, a questioning undercurrent, like he really wasn’t sure if he would get away with it or not.

“Nope,” Ty Lee said. “But do you think she — Ursa — can handle it? I mean, we were there, right, Mai? You remember how it was.”

“It’s a tough environment,” Mai agreed. You could tell what she was thinking: what place did a girl who came to the palace covered in bandages and glass, in the arms of a once-banished prince, have in a royal academy? “She’ll be eaten alive there.”

“And what if someone challenges her to an Agni Kai?” Ty Lee said. “Do you think she could win that? Is she that good at bending?”

“She’s not a Firebender,” Prince Zuko said.

“Why was she on the front lines if she’s not even a Firebender?” Mai said before pausing. “Never mind. I don’t feel like listening to your dramatics when you explain. But, you know, she’ll struggle that much more without bending to protect her.”

Prince Zuko’s face settled into a pensive mask of thought before he lit up, brandishing his pointer finger as if he’d come up with the idea of the century. Mai did not look amused, though Ty Lee seemed fascinated by what he might say.

“Ty Lee! You ran away from school to join the circus, right?” he said. Ty Lee went from looking fascinated to nervous, but she nodded.

“Yes, but I’m back now, so I don’t know why you’re bringing that up,” she said.

“My sister doesn’t have any immediate need for you,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Maybe it’s time you finally finish your education for good.”

“You want me to go back to the Royal Fire Academy?” Ty Lee repeated. Prince Zuko nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. You can watch out for her,” he said, jabbing his pointer finger at you.

“What will Azula say?” Ty Lee said.

“It’ll be fine,” Mai said. “If she needs you, you can just take a vacation from school or something. It’s better that you do this than laze around the palace.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you said quietly, speaking up of your own volition for the first time. “To anyone. I’m just grateful that you saved me, Prince Zuko. The rest of it is unnecessary. You don’t need to force the royal academy to accept me, and you don’t need to make Ty Lee come just to watch out for me. It’s enough that I’m alive. I can make my own life from here.”

“You don’t know anything. How can you expect to make a new life when you don’t even remember the one you’ve had until this point?” he said.

“I suppose there might be some benefit to Ursa going to school,” Mai added. “As long as she can survive the academy, it’ll be good for her. She can get caught up on everything she doesn’t remember, and it’ll be in an environment where her classmates are the children of the Fire Nation elite, so she can make further connections with people in high places.”

“Maybe she can find someone who has a brother she can date!” Ty Lee said, swooning.

“No!” Prince Zuko said. You all gave him strange looks; when he noticed, he turned a red as bright as his garb. “It wouldn’t be proper. You know, since you’ll be attending in my name and all; if you date anyone, it’ll reflect on me. So you can only date the people I approve of.”

“Alright. If that’s what you think is best,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to make things difficult for the boy who had, by all accounts, saved your life.

“I do,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Mai said from the corner. “You know, Ty Lee, this reminds me of when Azula took us to the zoo that one time.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it does!” Ty Lee said, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prince Zuko said.

“Is there a zoo nearby?” you said. “I don’t remember ever going to one. I’d like to visit, if it’s possible.”

“I’ll take you!” Ty Lee said. “When we have a break from school and classes and all.”

“So you’ll go with her?” Prince Zuko said. Ty Lee huffed.

“I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Besides, I’m sure Azula will be happy to hear I’m pursuing my education in my downtime instead of just doing nothing. And you know I’d do anything to make her happy!” she said before cartwheeling over to where you were still situated in your bed, throwing her arms around you affectionately. “We’re going to be classmates, Ursa!”

“I look forward to it,” you said genuinely. Ty Lee tapped you on the forehead.

“Me too!” she said.

“You are?” Mai said. “I don’t remember you ever liking the school, Ty Lee.”

“I don’t,” she said, abruptly wilting. “Everyone was so mean there. But my parents will probably be happy, and at least I’ll get to spend more time with Ursa! Maybe I’ll be the only one around when she regains her memories, and I’ll get to hear her story in her own words first.”

“For the sake of the prince’s mental wellbeing, let’s hope that’s not the case,” Mai said. Prince Zuko did not even respond, too busy inspecting the glass on your bedside to rise to the barb.

“Fine, then,” he said. “Make sure she’ll have everything she needs to attend the academy.”

“Which one of us was that pleasantly worded command directed towards?” Mai said.

“Whichever one of you has the time to do it, I guess,” he said. “This is the glass that came with her?”

“Yes. On the subject, why’d you go and collect so much of it? What a waste of time that must’ve been,” Mai said.

“I don’t know,” Prince Zuko said, sweeping the glass into the small bag lying on the ground by the nightstand. “I thought it might be important in healing her or something. I mean, you know, how could the healers understand what they were pulling out of her unless they saw it?”

Mai did not seem to believe him, but to your surprise, she did not question him further on the topic, only nodding. Maybe she respected him just a bit more than you had thought, though considering your original hypothesis had not exactly been favorable for the prince, this didn’t mean much.

“Where are you taking that?” she said instead, motioning towards the bag. “To dispose of it?”

“Yeah,” Prince Zuko said. “I’ll have it taken to the incinerator.”

You felt a twinge in your stomach. “Do you have to?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said.

“That glass is my only link to who I was before. Even if it was a bad memory, at least that memory was mine,” you explained. “I — I know it’s strange, but I feel like if you destroy it, you’ll destroy me, in some sense.”

“Ursa…” Ty Lee said, helplessly sympathetic, grasping your hands in her own. “It’s just glass. It can’t tell you anything about yourself, besides the fact that you were hurt during the fall of Ba Sing Se.”

“Your royal highness,” you beseeched Prince Zuko, who shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably at the title. “I know you have already done so much for me, so it is in bad taste for me to ask you for another favor, but please do not send that glass to be burnt away. Please save it. At least until I remember why it was there in the first place.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “It’s waste material. Nothing good will come of you keeping it. Nothing at all will.”

“I just—” you began before breaking off. “Never mind. I’m sorry for asking.”

“Zuko, maybe you should just do it,” Mai said.

“Leave it, Mai,” Ty Lee said. “He’s made up his mind. Even we can’t change it once he’s like this.”

Both of them looked at him, but he only picked up the bag and tucked it under his arm.

“I’m leaving now,” he said. “Don’t come after me.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room with Mai and Ty Lee. Both of them seemed sorry, and actually, unlike what you had expected, Mai was the first to speak up.

“I’m sorry, Ursa,” she said. “He’s always been the temperamental sort.”

“It’s okay,” you said, still unused to being referred to as Ursa, even if it was the name you had supposedly bore for your entire life. “He and Ty Lee are right, after all. It’s just glass. Trash. What use could I really derive from something like that? If that’s all that’s left of my old life, then maybe I’m better off not remembering at all.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Mai said. “But if it makes you feel better, we won’t argue, right, Ty Lee?”

“Hm? No, we won’t,” Ty Lee said.

“What’s gotten you all distracted?” Mai said. Ty Lee shook her head.

“It’s nothing. By the way, can you help me pack for the academy? I’m worried I’ll forget something,” she said.

“That, or you want me to do it all for you,” Mai said.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that!” Ty Lee said.

“I’m just joking,” Mai said, but since her voice remained that same steady deadpan, it was hard to tell. “Yes, I’ll help you, and I’ll get things ready for Ursa, too. That way she can leave as soon as Zuko gets her admitted into the academy. Let’s be honest — the sooner she can get out of here, the better.”

“That’s true,” Ty Lee said, though when she noticed your downcast expression, she rushed to reassure you. “Don’t feel bad!”

“It’s not a problem. I understand; you’ve already wasted so much time and so many resources on taking care of me. It’s only logical that you’d want me gone,” you said.

“It’s not like that,” Mai said. “There’s just people in this palace that you’d be better off never meeting. It’ll be good if you can get out before you have that displeasure. That’s all.”

“I see,” you said. “Then thank you once again for doing your best to look out for me.”

“We’ll leave you alone for a bit,” she said. “I’m sure this has all been a lot to process, so it’ll be good for you to come to terms with it on your own time.”

“Bye, Ursa! See you soon!” Ty Lee said.

“Bye,” you said, though your farewell was lacking much of her cheer. Even if Mai was right, you didn’t really want to sit alone. You had nothing to think about or do in the solitude, so what good would you gain from it? But you could hardly beg them to stay, not when you did not know them and they did not know you, so you only watched as they left you sitting by yourself in silence.

It was only when the moon was high in the sky that your door creaked open once more. You were still awake — you had been having trouble getting to sleep, so you had tentatively begun to walk around your room, testing your legs, familiarizing yourself with the motions of walking once more. When you heard footsteps, though, you immediately grew still, hoping that the visitor would be someone you recognized and not someone with more nefarious intentions.

You had been expecting, or perhaps hoping, that it would be Mai or Ty Lee, but to your surprise, it was Prince Zuko. He was not wearing armor, and his hair was loose and messy around his face, but there was no doubt that it was him.

“How much do you really remember?” he said without formality or even a greeting. “Hey. Tell me the truth, at least.”

“What do you mean?” you said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I mean, have you really forgotten everything?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “There’s nothing but a vast darkness whenever I try to look back at the time before I woke up here. I don’t remember a single thing about myself. I didn’t even know my name until you said it.”

He cocked his head at you, trying to discern if you were being truthful, and eventually he must’ve come to some conclusion, because he just buried his face in his hands.

“Okay,” he said.

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you said.

“It depends on who you’re asking,” he said. “And if you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!” you said.

“I believe you,” he said.

“Well…” you said. “There is one thing. Sometimes, in between the darkness, I’ll see something blue. I don’t know what it might represent, but I know that it’s there. It’s the only other thing I can recall — that precise shade like jewel-paint.”

“That could be anything,” he said.

“Yes, I know that,” you said. “That’s why I wouldn’t have even mentioned it ordinarily. Maybe something important to me was that color, or maybe there was just a blue tapestry on the wall where I was injured. There’s no concrete explanation, but I wanted you to know the full truth.”

“So that’s it, then,” he said.

“I suppose it is. On another subject, do you really mean to have me attend the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?” you said.

“You’ve already been accepted,” he said. “You’ll go. It’ll be alright.”

“Mai and Ty Lee didn’t seem to think so,” you said.

“You’re stronger than both of them, by far,” he said. “If they survived, you will, too.”

“Yet I’m the one that was captured,” you reminded him. “I don’t see how that makes me the stronger between us.”

A ghost of a smile flashed over his face. “You may not believe it, but at least to me, you are.”

“Did you know me very well, then, to be saying that with such confidence?” you said. “Before you found me that day? Were — were we friends?”

You didn’t want to say anything else, for it seemed presumptuous, but friends was close enough to what you were really asking that you figured the prince would understand.

It seemed that he did, but he did not appreciate the implication, for his face closed off and his posture grew withdrawn. Turning away from you, he pursed his lips.

“No,” he said. “We weren’t anything. You didn’t know me, and I didn’t know you. I only saved you because — because you and my mother share a name. That’s all.”

“It’s strange,” you said. “That name doesn’t even feel like it’s my own. Is it the amnesia that causes such a phenomenon?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t overthink it. Have fun at the Royal Fire Academy, Ursa. I’ll give you a messenger hawk; write to me frequently. And — and if you remember anything…”

“If I remember anything?” you prodded.

“Tell me first,” he said. “Not Ty Lee. Not anyone else. Me.”

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #the glass princess #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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luvyeni · 10 months

Text

MY SHY NEIGHBOR ( chapter. 14 )

— CHAPTER FOURTEEN: my favorite cashier 🥰🤍…

— 𖦹 warnings? none

previous chapter - next chapter - my shy neighbor masterlist

You opened the door to the café, immediately coming into jeongins view. “Hey.” He waved; you waved back. “Well, isn’t it my favorite cashier.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, smiling to himself. “D-do you want the same.”

“You know it.” You said, “And what drink would you recommend.” He thought about it, before pointing. “I order that every day.” You nodded, “then i’ll have that too.” You smiled. “Are you eating here today too?” he asked. “Yeah I have a while until my next class.”

You found your favorite seat, pulling out your phone to wait for your food. You checked your messages, frowning — it had been a week since your mystery man texted you, he was supposed to be only a client, but you actually looked forward to his text.

Why was he ignoring you? Had you crossed the line by saying you wanted to see him? No way, guys would beg to see you — they’d pay money to spend the night with you, even if you knew you’d never do it. Maybe that’s what made him different. Maybe he only wanted to keep it strictly over the phone. By why? “(yn)?”

“I’m about to go on my lunch break.” Jeongin told his co-worker. “Good, you can take this to your girlfriend.” He handed him a tray. “My girlfriend?” he said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“So that girl isn’t your girlfriend?” He pointed to where you sat. “n-no, she’s not.” He stuttered; you were the only girl he could mutter a single word to unless it was a coworker. “But i’ve seen you talking to her, which is rare for you, you know she also asks for you when you aren’t here?”

You ask about him? Why? “We’re just friends.” He said. “Well, she’s cute, you should set me up.” He took the tray from the boy. “Stop saying nonsense, i’ll be back soon.” He walked over to you; you hadn’t acknowledged him yet.

“yn?” you finally look up at him, he sat your tray down. “Thank you.” You said, “Are you on your break now?” He nodded. “Good now you can sit with me.” You pointed to the seat in front of you. “m-me?” you chuckled. “Well there’s no one else i’d be talking to silly.”

He hesitantly sat down, you past him the drink. “Here, drink this.” You smiled, “I get these for free, you didn’t have to.” You flagged him off. “I know, that’s why I also got you this.” You handed him half of the dessert. “Eat up.”

You watched him pick up the fork, taking a bite of the dessert. “Good, now stop being so scared, we’ve been talking for a few weeks you shouldn’t be this scared of me anymore.” You said, his ears turned. “I-i’m sorry.” He said, you reached out grabbing his hand. “Don’t stress it too much.”

He hated that he was like it this, being so shy has never worked out in his favor, we’ll expect those few times, drunk girls don’t really care if you’re shy or not, they just want to jump on the closest cute guy they see — that’s a story for a different time.

“I talk to much anyway, so I can do the talking for me and you.” You smiled, he mirrored yours. “Does that sound good?” He chuckled, looking down realizing you haven’t taken your hands off his — his heart thumping for a second, he followed your hand. “You have a tattoo?”

Where has he seen that tattoo? Before he could get another look, you took your hand away. “it’s embarrassing, me and lily got matching tattoos and they completely fucked it up.” You laughed, covering it up, that’s where he probably seen it, but he could’ve sworn he’d seen it somewhere else. “Ah, you two must be close?” You nodded. “We’re both from australia, she was the first person I actually met besides chan.” You spoke.

Sadly, it was time for him to get up, but he didn’t want to, he enjoyed talking to you. “You have to go back to work now?” He frowned, nodding. “Sadly.” He stood up, you grabbed his hand. “Hold on.” You reached into your bag, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. “I know we live next door to each other, but if you ever want to hang out when you’re not at work, you can call me.”

He watched you writing your number down. “Here.” You put the paper in his hand. “Make sure to actually use it, I really want to hang out with you.” You said, he nodded, praying you didn’t notice his red ear, or at least ignored it. “o-okay, i will.”

“Good.” You let his arm go with a smile, and he turned to walk away, smiling to himself. “Oh, it’s you.” He ran into your friend. “Mat!” He heard you yell. “It’s nice to see you, you should come out with us again, you cook really good meat.” Jeongin nodded, walking back to his register.

He watched you conversation with your friend, looking over at him, smiling waving. He waved back, smiling. “Jeongin pay attention, you have a customer.”

He shook his head; you were all he was focusing on, he forgot he was at work. “i’m so sorry, welcome to Love café how can I help you.”

And this time he actually said it with a smile.

— ( taglist. CLOSED ) @soulsbbg @k-poplv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @bbokarimenu @enczen @queen-in-the-shadows @thesweetesttattoo @ririlinoriri @aloverga @ashiitex @ddazed-lhs @heartsforhyunjin @chlodavids @simp4myself @surefornext @lostwonderwall @xxr-s4sha @charmer-c @vixensss @frobin4ever @bmnyy @semi-semiisbae @m111nho @i2innie @aalexyuuuhm @iraa567 @cheshireshiya @ihrtlix @abbiestearsricochet @niaalove @skzswife @babrieeee @thisisnotjacinta @luvskai @ikeusol @costalmaine @whos-kkira @minhosprettywife @hey-hey-heybitch @jeongins-version @denisaandreea20 @lovesunshinefelix @222brainrot @thatgirlkay @ss3oung @number1jeonginstan @whitney190 @jongseongsluvr @chesemonky @worcesheshestershiresauce @puppy-minnie @prettygirlsstanskz @hanniemylovelyquokka

©LUVYENI

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sxcret-garden · 5 months

Text

3rd Desire ღ A Little Jealousy [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang & Wooyoung ღ words: ~4.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, clothed sex, teasing, tiny bit of finger sucking (idol receiving), oral (idol receiving), he’s a lil mean again, hair pulling, biting, dacryphilia, bit of brat-taming, reader goes into subspace, sir kink, fingering (reader receiving), unprotected sex) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamic, (he runs his hand through reader’s hair and picks her up)

Desc.: When you’re meeting up with your classmate and friend Yeosang in order to finally finish that dreaded uni project that’s been keeping you on edge for the past weeks, you don’t expect him to bring along his flirtatious friend Wooyoung. What you also don’t expect is said friend knowingly attempting to flirt with you in front of your boyfriend, who just can’t help but let the hint of jealousy it makes him feel influence his actions once you’re in the comfort of your own home.

Author's note: This is actually one of my fav chapters so far, and 80% of the reason is because the first scene was so much fun to write kasjdfkljsöldka

← prev chapter ღ next chapter →

Arriving at the café a few minutes early, you find Yeosang already waiting for you. You came here from your university dorms, about 20 minutes by bus, so you didn’t expect to be late, but you tend to always leave a little earlier than you have to anyway, just to be sure.

Your meet-up place is a cute little café that turns out to be a lot more spacious than one would assume looking at it from the outside, and it serves all the classics, as well as a couple of drinks that are especially popular these days.

“Did everybody send you their parts?” you ask, starting up your laptop, while Wooyoung watches the alarm that’s supposed to tell you when your drinks are ready.

“I thought they were supposed to send them to you…?” Yeosang replies, eyes widened because he doesn’t want this meeting to already turn into a catastrophe. The frustration that your teammates have continuously nurtured with their incompetence over the past two weeks bubbles up deep inside you again, until you check your emails and you find that they did indeed send their parts to you.

“Sorry, my bad,” you sigh deeply.

“It can happen,” Yeosang assures you, while the alarm goes off, shaking the whole table as it vibrates, and Wooyoung immediately grabs it and gets up. You’re glad he’s at least being useful in that regard - otherwise you’re not sure why Yeosang brought his friend from an entirely different major along to your café date of hell.

“He insisted,” your teammate tells you upon posing your question. “Actually I don’t know why I brought him either.”

“Excuse me?!” Wooyoung exclaims in offense as he returns with your order, having heard his friend’s reply. But Yeosang is quick to wave it off.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” To your surprise his loud friend merely sits down while eyeing him with a doubtful expression, but he doesn’t say anything more to that. Finding yourself more fascinated than anything else by their dynamic, you shake your head eventually and redirect your attention to the screen in front of you.

“I’ll send you the parts so we can go over them together,” you announce as you’re already dropping the files into your kakao chat with Yeosang, the familiar tone coming from the speakers of his laptop signaling an incoming message that tells you he received them quickly. Wooyoung leans in, nosily looking at the files his friend is opening.

“Looks good… if you ignore the formatting,” Yeosang shades, making you chuckle, and Wooyoung lets you hear a loud “Hey!”

“You didn’t do yours any better!” he teases Yeosang, attempting to pinch his side but his friend evades the attack.

“Personal space,” he just remarks, pushing Wooyoung away with his flat palm against his cheek. Once again you find yourself fascinated by their cartoonish behaviour most of all, but you don’t comment on what just unfolded in front of your eyes. “And also, mine doesn’t look very interesting, but at least it has the correct formatting.”

“Yeah, this professor doesn’t really have an eye for aesthetics,” you add, grinning yet unhappy about the way the paper you were supposed to put together looks overly sterile. “But I guess that’s what science wants.”

“Well, the contents are what matters,” Yeosang adds, this time not defending himself when Wooyoung throws an arm around his shoulders, but you can tell he’s not happy about the pda. With curious eyes he leans in, skimming through the text on Yeosang’s screen, and you give him an annoyed sigh. You really just want to finish this damn project already, before it consumes any more of your nerves.

“Oh. Sorry,” Wooyoung grins as he notices your distress, moving away from the computer as he straightens his back, and you’re not sure what to make of his reaction. Telling yourself to focus on the problem at hand instead of him, you begin pasting the text into one collective document, while Yeosang starts reading through everything in search of any possible errors.

“Looks good,” he eventually announces, and you agree, having joined him in proofreading everything.

“You two sure are fast,” Wooyoung comments, and he shoots you a gaze filled with mischief.

“This is the tenth time we read through these, so…” you explain.

“I see… Yeosang here told me about how horrible the others were to work with,” the guy sitting next to your classmate continues.

“You’re also horrible to work with, and you’re not even a part of this,” Yeosang mutters under his breath, causing you to chuckle, and Wooyoung immediately complains.

“That hurt! I know when to be serious, in contrast to some people.” He says it so ominously that you think at least Yeosang must know who he’s talking about, but he too shoots him a questioning look. “Whatever,” Wooyoung brushes it off with a hand gesture. “You’re done now, aren’t you? So we can finally get to know each other,” he adds, directed at you. “This guy told me a lot about you, so I’ve been dying to meet you.” He points at Yeosang, whose ears grow bright red and he waves his hands in front of his face.

“It’s not what it sounds like. I don’t talk about you all the time, this guy here just likes to blow things way out of proportion,” he explains, and with the way Wooyoung is grinning from ear to ear now, all you’re left with is to believe Yeosang’s words.

“Figured,” you say. “So? What did he tell you about me that made you so interested?” You give Wooyoung a challenging smile, and the guy is eating up your attention as he watches you with a spark in his eyes.

“How you took the lead in your project after everyone else did nothing, for example,” Wooyoung replies. “I respect people like that! You know, people who get things done.” You chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Don’t be mistaken, I’m not usually the leader type. Just… when I need to be… for the sake of my own sanity.”

“I see,” Wooyoung says, leaning back in his chair now, taking on a comfortable stance.

“I’m sorry about him, I shouldn’t have brought him along,” Yeosang says, once again. “He flirts with everything that breathes in his direction, it means nothing. He’s just doing this for his own entertainment, but I can punch him for you if you want?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s fun to do this every once in a while.”

“Oh? What do you mean - every once in a while?” Wooyoung pries, a broad grin now playing his lips as he leans back in his chair. “You’re not the type to go out and meet people like this?”

“Not to flirt with them,” you laugh, directing your gaze towards the entrance of the café, where the image of Jongho walking inside has caught your eye. You decided to have him pick you up after your meeting with Yeosang, so that you could grab dinner together. You didn’t expect him to be here this early, though. “I’m not sure if my boyfriend would like that,” you add, looking back at Wooyoung, whose mouth forms the shape of an o, before he once again merely grins at you.

“I see, I see… but the fact that you flirted back at me tells me you like to live dangerously,” he remarks, before letting out a giggle that seems both very sudden, yet not out of character at all. Yeosang can only sigh beside him. He looks like he wants to snark at his friend for that, but he bites back the words, as your attention is visibly drawn elsewhere and you scoot over on the bench to make space for your boyfriend.

“Hello,” he greets the other two, politely bowing his head in front of them, before he sits beside you. And now you’re the one grinning to yourself, seeing his shyness that seems even weirder now, that you’re getting to know more and more very different sides to him.

“Wait… is that the boyfriend?” Wooyoung points his finger at the guy next to you, eyes raised in surprise.

“Yeah,” you answer.

“You’ve been talking about me?” Jongho asks, raising his eyebrows as well. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice, and for a second you wonder if you should use this opportunity to tease him a bit. But of course Wooyoung, the loud one, is faster.

“She’s been talking about you.”

“Don’t believe a word he says,” Yeosang utters, before you can defend yourself. “He just says whatever.” Another highly offended Wooyoung-noise is what follows, while you feel Jongho tapping your arm lightly, and when you glance over to him you can see him quietly laughing. Apparently he finds their dynamic just as amusing as you do.

“Yeah, so… that’s Yeosang, who I’ve been working on the project with. And that’s his friend Wooyoung, who has nothing to do with the project but came along anyway to be a distraction,” you introduce the two guys, then you point at your partner. “That’s my boyfriend Jongho.”

“You think I’m distracting?” Wooyoung retorts, because that appears to be all he heard, and he says it proudly and with this shit-eating grin on his face as he puts his elbow on the table, supporting his head with his chin in his palm. You can’t lie, his bold attempt to continue flirting with you in front of your boyfriend both makes you think he must be incredibly stupid, and somehow also makes you admire his courage.

“Not in the way you think,” you answer calmly, trying to sound almost cold. Next to Wooyoung, Yeosang is muttering an “oh my god”, but most importantly your boyfriend doesn’t react to it. Instead he diverts the conversation into a different direction, and in your head you thank him for it.

“So… were you able to finish everything?” he asks, and you nod.

“Almost,” you say. “The formatting needs to be checked again, but that’s Yeosang’s job. So… if you want to go get dinner now, we can!”

“Ah, no, I wasn’t trying to rush you,” he assures as he balances somewhere between seeming friendly and polite.

You end up leaving pretty soon anyway. Yeosang informed you that he still had things to do (you assume he just wanted an excuse to get rid of Wooyoung) and so you packed your things and split up into pairs in front of the café, with your friend and his friend taking the route to the bus stop across the street, and you and Jongho walking a couple of blocks to get to a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. It’s serving stew as its speciality, just right for a chilly evening like today.

A groan of satisfaction escapes you as you link your hands above your head and stretch your arms and back after entering the apartment. Your boyfriend smiles at the sight in front of him as he puts his jacket on a hanger and then he follows you into the living room.

“Getting dinner there was a really good idea,” you remark as Jongho comes up to you from behind, placing his hands onto your hips and leaning in.

“Right? You should let me pick restaurants more often,” he mutters right beside your ear, and when you whirl around to get a proper look at his face, he laughs softly.

“I think it was my idea to go there?” you retort, taking offense in him attempting to take all the credit, but he’s quick to appease you.

“I know, I know, just joking.” You huff at his attitude with a smile, before he adds, “I thought you liked mischievous guys.” He walks away and towards the kitchen as you’re still confused about his words, but when you begin to have a hunch about what made him say this, he’s already out of sight. You follow him, finding him pouring himself a glass of water, and without a change in expression he takes a few sips. You can only stare at him, hoping for him to say anything to help you figure out whether that hunch is right or wrong, but he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry. Setting down the glass, he seems to be thinking about something as he’s supporting his weight with his hands on top of the kitchen counter, and then, when he finally shoots you a glance, the expression on his face has changed.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Liked what…?” Jongho pushes himself off the counter in front of him, taking a few steps towards you instead. He comes to a halt when you’re merely a few inches apart, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and his hand finds your face.

“That guy flirting with you,” he says, his voice dangerously low, and he lets his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “You liked that.”

“I…” You gulp as you look up at him. So he did realize it. You should’ve known better than to assume you could hope he wouldn’t be able to read you that well. But you were mistaken. It seems he already learned to notice and correctly analyze even the smallest of signs, and you guess in some way that’s a good thing, you’re just not sure what this means in a situation like this.

“It’s fine, dear,” he speaks, his voice merely a whisper now, and he leans in to press one feathery light kiss onto your lips. “You can admit it.” Again, you find yourself gulping. But the sweetness of his kiss mixing in with the soothing effect his words have on you leave you unable to ponder on this for longer. And so you simply say it, without thinking about the consequences.

“I liked it.”

It was only yesterday that you had another conversation, figuring you should talk more in depth about your wants and what you don’t want, after he almost crossed a line last time. You talked about your relationship, your sexual relationship mostly, the kind of dynamic that’s slowly growing between the two of you, and the kind of dynamic you two wish for. Surprisingly, from what you’ve discussed at least, your wishes align mostly.

You both agreed you want more. More than a kink or two incorporated into your sex life. More than a barely noticeable difference in power. He made it clear he’s willing to go into this with you, take you by the hand, and that he’d make sure to satisfy you.

But you know he also wants to be satisfied himself. And it’s exciting you, thinking about it then, and thinking about it now, as he’s steering you towards the nearest wall, until your back gently comes in contact with it. It’s not much, no grand gesture, and yet you can already feel the flames of desire burning up in your stomach.

“I see.” He speaks slowly now, the tone in his voice sending a shiver down your spine and you know he can see you tremble. From excitement for what’s to come, and curiousity about what he plans to do with you now. “What?” He raises an eyebrow, one hand resting against the wall right next to your head, the other reaching out until his fingertips come in contact with your stomach, and he lets them dance up until he’s almost reached your throat. When he sees you gulp at his action, he huffs, as if laughing at you. “You think I’ll give you what you want that easily?” Jongho asks, pulling his hand away and you inevitably frown at him for it. “After flirting with another guy? After you tell me you liked it? I don’t think so.” He takes a few steps away. There’s a calm expression on his face, his look feels almost icy as he lets his gaze wander from your head down your body. “You should know who can please you best,” he warns. “Or, don’t tell me you think that cheeky guy could make you feel better than me?”

“No!” you respond immediately and without having to think about it.

“But you still liked the attention,” your boyfriend states, matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah…” you admit, making yourself smaller instinctively.

“Cute,” he huffs at your apologetic gesture, and there’s a hint of a smirk sitting on his face. You weren’t 100% sure about it before, whether he really is jealous or if he’s doing this for fun, but now you can clearly tell - he’s enjoying this. And that’s fine, because you talked about this too - what you’re about to get yourself into, and how far you’re both willing to go in the process.

“Come here,” Jongho orders along with a gesture of his hand and you oblige. You step closer, let him put his arms around you, and the kiss he presses onto your lips is surprisingly soft. Slowly, he moves his lips against yours, tilting his head so he could deepen the kiss eventually, taking his time as he runs the tip of his tongue along the front row of your teeth, and just when you begin to want him to kiss you more passionately, he parts from you. One look at your face, his darkened eyes making you shiver in his hold, then he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth. Trailing kisses across your cheek and eventually halting beside your ear as he cups your face with both hands now.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.” You don’t hesitate, and you don’t protest. It’s like his words put you in a trance, making sure you wouldn’t even think of disobeying him. And so you do, you drop down to the floor in front of him, hands immediately fumbling with the button on his pants, because you know what he wants. There’s only one thing a guy could want when he tells you to get on your knees for him, and you’re set on giving him that. But your eagerness doesn’t go uncommented. “So greedy,” he mutters, as he calmly watches you pull down his pants and underwear, exposing his half hardened length. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp and for a second as you glance up at him you think you can see his features soften. “You already know what to do, hm?” your boyfriend continues, yet you wait for the okay to touch him.

“Can I…?” you ask, making him let out a short laugh. And there it is again, that grin that would tell anyone that he knows he’s in control, and he’s enjoying it.

“Are you gonna make me wait?” he poses a question in return, and in that same breath phrasing the answer himself. “I don’t think so.”

You keep one hand resting on his thigh, while you wrap the other around his cock. Peering up at him to watch him as he watches you, you start moving your hand slowly, and the second your palm brushes against his head, you can see the way his lips part to make way for a quiet sigh. You bring your fist all the way back down his shaft, repeating the motion a few times, until you find a hint of impatience on his features.

“Dear…” he mutters, untangling his fingers from your hair to cup your chin instead. As he lifts it up, his thumb presses against your lips, and when you open your mouth to let out a shaky breath, he pushes the finger inside. Your eyelids fluttering shut, you meet him with the tip of your tongue, instinctually swirling it around his finger once, before you close your mouth around it and suck on it. “Like that…” Jongho breathes a praise in your direction, before pulling his thumb out of your mouth and putting his hand back on top of your head to steer your field of vision back towards his core. He stays quiet, but he wouldn’t have needed to say anything more anyway to get you to finally do what he wants you to. You move closer, extending your tongue for mere kitten licks, quick strokes that wouldn’t possibly be near satisfactory against the tip of his cock. You glance up at him again, seeing the impatience building up behind his gaze that won’t leave you, and for a moment you wonder whether you should try and see what happens if you push him a bit more.

But your own hunger wins over that desire. He was probably right, you really are greedy today, because the second you wrap your lips around him, you find yourself moaning at the feeling of having him in your mouth. The hiss of pleasure he lets out forces you to suppress a grin. Instead, you take him in further, hollowing your cheeks as you let him fill you up with his size.

His hips stay still. You wonder whether it would stay like this, whether he would make you do all the work and merely guide you into the pace he wants, as he is doing currently, with his fingers grasping onto strands of your hair, or if he would eventually lose patience and start fucking into your mouth. All you know is you’re fine with either, and yes, you’re eager to please him, eager to get him off.

Your hand still wrapped around him moves along with your head for additional friction, and you keep peering up at his eyes, wanting to see the moment he breaks apart, and all the expressions leading up to it. And yet he stays in control, disappointingly much, so you take him in even further as you sink back down on him, until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag in response. You furrow your brows at the uncomfortable sensation, and yet you do it again with your next repetition of the movement. So long, until tears are starting to well up in your eyes, and that’s when he takes his hand away from your hair and cups your face instead, cursing at how good you’re being for him.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groans, and now you can see the pleasure distorting his face - it’s not much, but it serves as a motivation to work even harder for him. The sound he lets out as you swallow around him makes you moan as well, until you move your head and your hand faster, and the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, as well as your boyfriend’s heavy breaths fill the room. “Y/N, stop,” he mutters, and you don’t, because you want to push him over the edge so desperately. Instead you mewl at the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and you close your eyes, preparing yourself to take his load.

What you don’t prepare yourself for is him yanking your head away by your hair, the shock from the sudden action and the immediate wave of pleasure that follows as he growls,

“I said stop.”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden weakness washes over you, and the only thing you can do is move your head up just a little bit, leaning into the touch of his hand on top of it. And you don’t miss the way the words affected him. After he had suggested you calling him that and you had refused, saying you found the thought of calling your boyfriend sir a bit weird, you know he didn’t expect you to say it after all. But you did. And now there’s an entirely new expression on his face, an entirely new burning passion reflecting in his eyes, and you know it’s only a matter of time until it burns you too.

“Get up,” he says eventually, and you do as told, finding yourself held up safely with his hands resting on your sides as soon as you stand. Your body feels light, almost like he’s taken control of your will, when he steers you back a few steps, into your original position against the wall. Without hesitation, he kisses you, teeth clashing together as he tears at your clothes, and he only parts from you to pull them off, piece by piece, one after the other, and when he has gathered half of them on a pile somewhere on the floor, he decides that should be enough. Your pants gone should do, and when his lips smash onto yours again, you feel his hand between your thighs, fingers prodding at your folds.

“Shit,” he hisses against your lips. “You’re fucking soaked… can’t wait to fuck you…” His words make your head spin, and the way his fingers slip inside you effortlessly only adds to your lightheadedness. You throw your arms around his frame, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt covering his back, and you buck your hips into his palm as he starts curling his fingers inside you. You can only mewl at the pleasure, sentences are too hard to form right now, maybe if you tried you could get out a few words with no correlation between them.

“...p-please…” you slur, “...f-fuckme…”

“Who do you belong to?” Jongho asks, his fingers working you at a speed that should give you time to answer, but that won’t keep you sane for long. And yet you can’t say anything, only pathetic whimpers come out when you open your mouth. “Who?” he repeats. “Is it me? Do you belong to me?”

“Y-yessir…” you manage to say, and he bites his bottom lip hard.

“That’s right.” You can hear his voice trembling as he speaks, and you let out another sorry excuse of a moan as he presses his thumb against your clit. “Gonna make you cum so good, pretty girl… just wait…” All you can do at this point is cling to him for dear life, incoherent whines and whimpers falling from your lips, in between words that are supposed to tell him you want to cum on his cock, but you’re not sure how much of that actually gets through to him. And still, when your walls are starting to clench around him and your whole body tenses up, he finally pulls out of you. With his hand soaked in your juices he gives himself another few strokes, before telling you to hold on tight and lifting you up with his hands placed on the underside of your thighs. You cry out as he pushes into you, tears welling up in your eyes again, and this time they fall. Rolling down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelms you, arms wrapped around him so tightly that you’re not sure if maybe you are squeezing a bit too tightly after all. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters in this moment is the chase for your high, and it ends with merely a few of his thrusts. Your body shakes violently as your orgasm hits you, you bite his shoulder and yet the moans won’t stop escaping you, and as you do, he too comes undone. You keep clenching around him as you feel him spilling inside you with a groan, and even as you start coming down from your high, your body won’t stop trembling.

He tries to help you stand, but realizes quickly that all attempts are futile. So he carefully lets you sink down onto the ground, staying close to you in order to keep holding onto you.

“How was that?”

“Good…” you manage to whisper an answer, not having the energy for a more elaborate one, but your boyfriend understands.

“I’m glad.” Jongho collapses with his back against the wall next to you, letting you rest your head on top of his shoulder and him leaning his head against yours. His hand finds yours naturally, fingers intertwining, as your mind is still drowned in bliss from the afterglow of your orgasm.

“It was perfect, actually,” you say, correcting yourself. “You were perfect.” You lift your other hand up to comb your fingers through his short hair, eventually letting it rest against his cheek and bringing him in for a short but sweet kiss. And then there it is again, that soft smile appearing on his lips, and when you lift your head he buries his face in the crook of your neck - to hide that expression from you, as you assume.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually call me that, after saying you didn’t want to at first,” he says, and you retort, questioningly,

“Sir?”

“Yeah…” Jongho looks away, still visibly affected by it, and you shoot him a mischievous glance.

“I’m… really enjoying this though. And I’d like to keep… trying new stuff too…” you speak, and your boyfriend gives you a smile.

“We just tried a lot of new stuff, and you already want more?” He gets up, walking over to one of the cupboards and getting you a glass of water. “Drink this, first of all,” he says as he hands it to you. “And tomorrow we can sit down and talk again.”

#ateez smut #jongho smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #ateez series #ateez x fem reader #ateez x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #jongho imagines #jongho x reader #smut

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devilfic · 14 days

Text

❝right place, right time❞

X. we don't fight fair.

parts: previously plot: you and bruce talk some more about your arrangement. everyone wants to know what's going on with you two. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, angst is back baby, but so are the romcom plot beats, somebody get gordon a drink and get one for me too. words: 7.6k. a/n: LOTS of plot this chapter, but also some maybe cute things coming later. in between the horrors :D

It takes more coaxing than you would like for Bruce to let you leave alone two days later. Even with proof of a patient, he insists he send you in his car, with his driver and his guards. One of the cops on your detail had confessed they were feeling redundant, leisurely as they were anyway, parked outside General with coffees barely keeping hot in the November chill, “Just the one today, right doc?”

You snuggle deeper into your coat, hands eagerly grasping at the warmers in your pockets, “Just the one. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be out before lunch.”

“Well, we’ll be here. Holding down the fort.” The two of them snicker to themselves. Glancing to the side, you see Bruce’s men: one in the driver’s seat of his car and the other waiting by the entrance for you. Unlike your detail, they dared not crack a smile for fear of looking too cheerful. You wouldn’t admit it out loud (because these cops were being paid to keep you alive), but you felt like your life was in much better hands with people who weren’t currently goofing around on the hood of their car.

“Right. Thanks, fellas.” You can’t be bothered to sound sincere, and from their general lack of acknowledgement, they don’t seem to care.

You spin on your heels, preparing to follow Bruce’s guard into the hospital, but nearly crash into a woman walking behind you. The collision has you stumbling and jumping back, Bruce’s guard jumping forward, and the woman baring her teeth at you in a… smile?

Her teeth glint bleach-white off the gathering snow, a few shades lighter than the hair smoothly pinned at her crown. Unlike everyone else shuffling past on the icy sidewalk, she is perfectly content with standing right in front of you under the porte-cochère. You supposed the black, mink coat wrapped around her person kept her all warm and toasty. You felt jealous. Then you felt like you should apologize for ramming into her, but nothing came out.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” The extravagant woman speaks first, glancing over her shoulder at the guard who now looms between the two of you, prepared to defend if need be, “Oh! Hello, pleasure to meet you.” She reaches a hand out to the guard and when he doesn’t go to take it, she snatches his hand up from his side in a firm handshake.

You’re more forthcoming with your hand when she turns to you, though you’re not at all sure why she’s bothering to introduce herself. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. And flipped you off while they were at it.

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” One of the cops pipes up from behind you, eyes fixed on the woman.

Her smile grows wider, “Not at all, officer. I just thought this all looked so… curious.” She gestures between the cop car and Bruce’s car with one French-tipped finger, “You wouldn’t happen to be a celebrity doctor, would you? Plumping up the pillow-faces of our city’s darling socialites, perhaps?”

You try to scoot around the woman, but she moves with you, keeping perfect eye contact with you the whole time, “I’m real sorry, but I need to get going. I have an appointment-“

“With Bruce Wayne?”

You flinch. The woman looks… familiar, now that you’re looking at her more closely. Her name escapes you. “Excuse me?”

“Bruce Wayne. That’s his car- well, one of them anyway. A source of mine says it’s the same one from two days ago when you both arrived together for… something. And the same one from a few weeks ago; if I recall, Mr. Wayne made a generous donation—a whole wing!—to Gotham General earlier this month. And now you’ve been spotted using his car. What’s that all about?”

The same cop from before flanks your side, locking you in with Bruce’s guard and this mysterious woman, “Lady, they’re busy. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“And they don’t have to answer. If you keep this up, I’m gonna write you up for harassment.”

She looked like she’d been waiting to hear that. She reaches within the folds of her coat and pulls out a badge, brandishing an ID for the cop to read, “Whatever happened to freedom of the press?”

You peer at the ID yourself, at the impeccably styled photograph of the same woman with the same blonde hair falling in loose, Hollywood curls that frame her smile. Beside her photo is her name: Vicki Vale. You suddenly remember where you’d seen her before.

Vicki knows you know, too. You try to sidestep her for the door but she crowds in on you, barreling through the arms that attempt to hold her back, “Are you Mr. Wayne’s doctor? Is he sick? Is he dying?”

Your lip curls back in a snarl, “What ever happened to HIPAA?”

That amuses her. “Is he in the car right now? Is that why you’ve got all this security? Is Bruce Wayne paying for your protection after you were taken hostage a few weeks ago?”

The cop grabs Vicki by the upper arm, managing to wrangle her away from you, but she only pivots to the car, tapping her nails on the tinted windows and calling out for Bruce to comment. You almost feel sorry for her, in the way you might feel sorry for a rabid dog walking in circles on a busy street.

You feel a hand on your back and Bruce’s guard ushers you quickly into the hospital, even as Vicki shouts after you for clarification on Bruce’s whereabouts. His expression, as always, is flat.

When you’re far enough away from the lobby, you ask, “Does that kind of thing happen to… him a lot?”

The guard doesn’t bother to pause in his stride, doesn’t even bother to look down at you as he answers, “Yes.”

You supposed if you had to deal with people like Vicki Vale all your life, you’d become a recluse too.

At the very least, you hadn’t said anything damning. She would have nothing to go off of with whatever soundbite she managed to grab from you, and God save her editor when they’d inevitably have to cut out her getting threatened by a cop.

She’d been waiting for you, though. How she knew you’d be here, at this time, meant she’d either been tailing you or she had someone on her payroll doing it for her. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Bruce had been in your office twice, but you had never been in his.

It was bigger, obviously; it’s two floors below the penthouse with a receptionist outside and some hallways leading to God knows where. The receptionist—Jennifer, who insists you call her Jenny—is very forthcoming with refreshments as you wait outside for Bruce’s meeting to finish. You decide there’s no better time than now to pick apart the marble floors and TVs on the wall replaying WE’s corporate reel.

The lobby downstairs was modern, clearly remodeled, but Bruce’s office and penthouse were comparatively frozen in time. You could almost picture the first Waynes walking through here all those years ago. Everything—from the luxurious leather chair you were sitting on, to the warm low light, to the gentle clicking of Jenny’s fingers on the keyboard, to the empty glass of sparkling water she’d given you had almost made you forget that you were currently living in the penthouse upstairs.

The door to Bruce’s office opens, breaking you out of your contemplation. A man in a fine suit walks out, chatting with Bruce, though you couldn’t see the latter from where you were sitting. You can only catch the last half of their conversation: something about an auction?

You don’t have much time to think on it. Jenny quickly rises from her desk and slips into Bruce’s office, and a few seconds later comes out to invite you in.

You don’t see Bruce at first. The room is just as big as you imagined. Bruce’s desk is right across from the doors, backlit by large windows letting in the noonday light. It’s a heavy, wooden thing that is far bigger than it really has any business being with next to nothing actually on it. And, notably, he is not sitting at it.

It takes you a second to spot him to your left at a built-in bar, washing out a glass of what looked like dark liquor down the drain. It isn’t until Jenny shuts the door behind you that he looks over at you, setting the empty glass on the counter.

Today, he’d forgone a sweater for a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. You noted the healed over cuts and scars on his arms and wondered if people asked about them the way you had, enchanted (rather than perplexed) by stories of martial arts hobbies with no concerns for where he went at night. He watches you thinking about it, but before you can ask, he speaks first, “So, you met Vicki.”

Your shoulders slump just at the mention of her. Bruce catches it and a smile, however small, warms up his expression. “Unfortunately.”

“Bet she made an impression.”

You cross the room in a few strides, undoing your coat and throwing it over a nearby chair, “She’s tactless. She said her source recognized your car and now she wants to know what we are to each other,” You pause in your ranting when you see him pour a bit of brandy into the glass next to him, “Is that for me?”

He casually hands it to you, “You look like you need it.”

You don’t have the marbles to take offense to that at the moment. You knock back the shot in one go, then go to pour yourself another one as Bruce watches you. After you throw back the second one, you realize that he hasn’t responded to you. “Weren’t you listening? I said she’s following us.”

“Plenty of reporters are, she’s not special.”

“Wh- sorry, what?”

Bruce shrugs, “Vicki Vale isn’t the only reporter in Gotham who knows what cars I drive, who I go to lunch with, or where I put my money.”

“Isn’t that…” You start to ask, but the way Bruce is looking at you makes you feel like your perfectly reasonable question has a perfectly obvious answer already, “…isn’t that bad?”

“Not when I know what cars they drive. I know who works for them. When I don't want to be seen, I’m not seen. They don’t have that luxury.”

“You keep tabs on all of them?”

You watch Bruce lean against the bar to face you, one hand in the pocket of his- okay, whoa. Either his thighs were getting bigger or his pants were getting tighter. You don’t remember his other suits being this… formfitting. You can’t help but notice how they stretch as he reclines, and though your eyes flick back up to his before he can catch you, he makes no mention of it… even if his eyes narrow some. He waits until he’s sure he has your undivided attention, “I like to be informed. Especially since we’re selling a narrative, now.”

“A narrative.” After a moment, it clicks in your mind. “That we’re together. The narrative we never agreed on selling.”

Bruce brushes right past that, “So what’d you tell Vicki?”

You pour yourself a third shot, though it’s a bit more modest. You cap off his brandy and move away from the bar as if it would silence the siren song of day-drinking, “I told her that asking if you're dying is a HIPAA violation.” Bruce's mouth twitches as if containing a laugh. "What?"

You watch him contemplate telling you, and then, as if he suddenly thinks better of it, he shakes his head. “You just reminded me. If we do agree to do this, I will have to fire you. Patient ethics."

“Which is another reason why we probably shouldn’t do it.”

His head tilts, “Probably?”

You flush. You sip on your drink, folding your other arm around your waist as he questions you with his eyes, “I just… I’m frustrated. I hate this. I hate that the safest choice here is to hide away while you take care of it. It’s not that I don’t trust you to do it, I just don’t want to run away.”

Bruce watches you in that way of his, calculating and assessing. “Going in alone is running away too. You’d be Isaac bound at the altar.”

“And you, Abraham? Delivering me to a cruel god?” A rush of exasperation sours his expression. “I’d be stopping him. It’s me he wants.”

“And what about your parents? Your friends? Judith? You’d be fine leaving them to bury you?”

“Of course I’m not- of course not.”

“Then you don’t have to do it. Trust me.”

“I do trust…” You stare at him for a moment, “I trust you. I have to. But you get that this is weird, right? Getting together for the press? Putting all eyes on us? You get why this feels weird for me, don’t you?” Bruce is quiet, holding your gaze steady. You know that this plan wasn’t his first choice, and yet he didn’t look nearly as put off by it as you were. Perhaps it was another way you two differed. Something else to chalk up to being so rich that things like this- maneuvers like this become necessary. “Why do you want to do it?”

He pushes himself off the bar, taking a step and then another until he’s squarely in front of you. You have to squeeze your hands into fists to tamp down the immediate flight response you feel being this close to him, seeing this almost unguarded side to him. It was different from the deer-in-headlights deal he had when you first met: open, but unsure. It rocks you that he doesn’t look so unsure anymore. You swallow and keep his gaze, but it feels like a lot more work for you than it is for him.

“You said you don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to make you. We need a good reason for me to stick by your side. This is a solution.”

“You don’t need to stick by me. I’ve got a detail, remember?”

“I don’t trust two cops to keep you safe.”

“Your guards, then. You’ve got more than enough to do the job for you.”

Something in Bruce’s eyes flicker, “Maybe I want it to be me.”

Your courage slips. Your lips part, sounding out words you can’t bring yourself to say. What do you say to that?

He wants it to be him. He wants to be the one to keep you safe.

Logically, you know he’s right. GCPD’s finest couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and dexterity. They couldn’t even keep him out of their servers. And his guards were better, but they were still fallible. A gunshot or a stab wound would take them out just as easily as it would anyone else. The man before you had survived both of those things and more.

Uncanny warmth unfurls your fists. It curls around your rib cage, through each bone, around each lung, worming its way up your throat and unspooling in your mind. You feel warm all over. It is a terribly strange feeling to have for Bruce Wayne, but you’re having it all the same.

If he was still just Batman to you, you might’ve done something you couldn’t easily take back.

You suddenly wish for the times when that was the case, when blindfolds were commonplace, so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye or think through how one might have gone through with those thoughts, if one had the chance- “As far as reasons go,” you struggle around the lump in your throat, “That’s not the worst.”

Bruce smiles.

He skirts around you and heads for the desk as you watch him go, the scent of him finally permeating past your defenses. He didn’t smell like green apple today—more sandalwood or pine—and as you debate on the specific notes, he comes back to you with a flier in hand. It takes your scent-drunk mind a minute to read it.

Gotham City Food Bank presents: The Thanksgiving Bachelor Auction!

You stare. Bruce is still holding the flier out to you, expecting a reaction. You can’t really think of one. “Uh.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Why…?”

“The food bank puts together Thanksgiving baskets every year for the needy: turkeys, tofu, yams, stuffing, the works. They do a charity event to raise money to stuff the baskets. It’s for a good cause.”

“That’s awesome. What does this have to do- oh, fuck.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. You recall what the man from earlier mentioned about an “auction”. You snatch the flier away to look at the finer details. It would be this weekend, there were six bachelors planned (including Bruce), and each person was encouraged to bid big for charity. Dinner would be provided. It sounded nice.

“You can bring Dr. Madison,” Bruce offers, “I think she likes me.”

She does. She painfully does. You could imagine her emptying this month's and last month's paycheck on a date with Bruce. Taking him to the nicest (and least vandalized) sushi joint in the city, engaging him with tales of the kids she's saved and her love of Broadway. Pampering him with praises for his charity work, admiring him openly and easily, charming him the way she charmed him at General.

She is a charming, sweet, beautiful woman. Bruce would look very good with her, even for charity. You wonder what things would've been like had he broken into her apartment instead of yours.

“Just wait 'til she finds out you personally invited her," you force a laugh, "She's going to have to take out a loan."

"I didn't know you were planning to bid on me, too." He's joking. Obviously, he's joking, if the barely restrained smile is anything to go by.

"In your dreams, maybe." Bruce shrugs. "But... I thought we were creating a narrative. Letting someone else buy you for a night isn't very romantic." You hate how hesitant you sound, like the idea of it displeased you. You don’t mean to sound that way, of course. It's just that if anyone were going to go on a date with Bruce... shouldn't it be you?

“The dates are just for fun. You'd be my real date.” His real date. God. “It would make you look like a good sport." He sees you mulling it over, still unsure. He folds the flier into his pocket. "Or not. We don't have to tell them anything yet. I wouldn't want to make it awkward for Dr. Madison if-“

If what? If she found out you were "dating" Bruce days after telling her to her face that you didn't know his relationship status? God forbid she rub it in your face after you spent so long being indifferent about him. “It's fine. We'll come. But maybe hold off on calling me your real date until you’ve fired me. Officially. You know.”

“I'll have my people talk to your people.”

You feel queasy at the smile he gives you, so casual and reassuring. You could really use a lie-down right about now. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you at home.”

Bruce blinks, but you’re already heading for the doors of his office before you've realized what you just called his place. You hear a quiet “see you” from behind, but you don’t dare to look back.

“Please don’t agitate the inmates. We are liable for anything that happens to you on the premises, but if you go poking around where you shouldn’t, that’s on you.”

The corrections officer hands you a clip-on badge with your name on it, but when she goes to ask Batman for his ID, she hesitates.

“He’s with me.” Detective Gordon assures her from his other side. The officer’s eyes narrow. James raises an eyebrow, “I talked to the warden about it. If you’d like to bring it up with him.”

That seems to be all the convincing she needs. She passes James his badge and gestures for you three to continue on down toward the visitation room.

It had been a hassle getting Bruce through the metal detectors, and it had been distraction enough that it didn’t weigh on you just who you were going to see until you were already in the room.

It was wide, with vending machines and a couple of tables scattered about, barred windows allowing a look into the unusually sunny afternoon outside. A handful of inmates were already there: some visiting family, others meeting with lawyers. It made it easy to spot him. Lucien was the only one alone, and from the looks of him, he was more happy to see you than you were to see him.

As you three walk over, he stands from the table, grinning ear-to-ear. You barely remembered his face from when you were younger, save for the same patchy beard that had yet to fill in after all these years. He greets Bruce first, holding out a hand, “Wow. You know, I’ve never seen you up close before. Kinda glad about that.”

Bruce does not shake his hand. Lucien’s smile is unwavering. His eyes slide past yours to meet the detective’s, and James shakes his hand out of pity.

It isn’t until you and James sit down that Lucien finally looks at you dead on. “You look good.” You feel your stomach lurch. It didn’t feel good to hear, especially when he looked at you like freshly caught prey. When you make no move to reply to that, he shrugs, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I hear you’re a doctor now. Really worked your way up from gutter trash, huh?”

Your expression hardens and he snickers.

James cuts in for you, “Mr. Goulding, we requested a visit because we think you might be able to help us with an ongoing case you were involved in. Can you tell us what you remember about Dimitri Young?”

Lucien’s eyes slither back to James, “Not much. Kid wasn’t with us long. He was… skinny. Cried easy. Up Nat’s ass all the time.”

“Were you close with Ms. Young?”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say that. We worked with each other. Ran the trade for a while with a couple other kids. Got a lot of customer service experience back then. She was… nice. Shame what happened.”

James raises an eyebrow, “Seems like you were on good terms. And after Natalie was killed, did you keep up with Dimitri? Visit him at Arkham, maybe? Write him letters?”

Lucien glances at you. “Well… it was tricky. Thanks to the good doctor and friends, I had to steer clear of the whole thing for a while. Felt bad for the kid, though. When I heard about the plea deal… I’d have taken life here over Arkham. I don’t care how fucked up the kid got over Nat’s death. What they’re doing down there?” He looks over at James and grimaces, “That’s the real criminal shit.”

You remembered that. His lawyer had pleaded insanity under the guise he’d get parole on good behavior, gain sympathy for having lost his only family so brutally. You remembered what Bruce said too; he’d been good. He was doing good until he saw you.

James gears up to ask another question but Lucien cuts him off, “Are they gonna talk or are they just decoration?” He points his finger at you and Bruce who hovers over your shoulder.

You wring your hands underneath the table, feeling Bruce’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. The truth was that you had a list of questions to ask him. You’d stayed up all night writing them down, rehearsing them.

Now, you could only remember Natalie and the barrel of her gun.

Lucien was there, too. He was on the frays of the memory as he always was. The shootout had yielded successes and failures, and Lucien, who’d been there that night—who laughed as Alex laughed and laughed harder when the bullet nestled itself into the meat of her brain—had not been found for years after that. You thought sometimes that you saw him on the street, but his appearance in your memory was just as frayed.

It all comes back to you now that you’re sitting in front of him. The everyman, a person meant to blend into the crowd. It didn’t surprise you that he’d managed to stay out of here for so long.

“…You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” James’ voice floats in between your musing, making you aware of his and Lucien’s eyes on you. Lucien is still smiling, strands of golden hair slipping out of the small bun at the back of his head.

“Why did you stay with the Vipers for so long?”

Your question surprises him, like he hadn’t expected you to have a voice after all these years, “I was open to new opportunities. But they paid well and you’re almost guaranteed a good position if you don’t get gunned down before 18. I was running my own little unit of teenyboopers before I got locked up.”

You frown. How casual he is describing it all. “They didn’t toss you aside as soon as you got too old to control?”

“No, no. That was your friend’s big issue, wasn’t it? Scared to be controlled. Nah. The boss man liked me. You know they like ‘em young, easy to impress upon and all that. They want the lifelong loyalty. I’ve never been that devoted, you know? But I liked the money.”

“Do you know what happened to Dimitri?” This question, Bruce asks. For the first time, you see Lucien’s smile dim some.

Lucien clears his throat, “No. Kid kick the bucket?”

“He broke out with some inmates not too long ago. He’s on the street hunting down people related to Nat’s case.”

Lucien looks from Bruce to you, then breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. The sound is grating to your ears. “Holy shit. He wants to kill you.”

“He’s killed one person already,” James stresses, trying to save you the humiliation. “We need to know if you think he could be working with the Vipers again. We believe someone is supplying him with… venom.”

“Venom? Fuck me. That’s expensive, especially those newfangled strains they had on the street when I was out. Can really fuck you up if you’re not careful.”

“Did the Vipers have their hands on that kind of stuff? You were a lieutenant after all.”

“Maybe. Not as much as they did drops. That was all the rage. Venom’s too volatile and, like I said, it can really fuck you up,” Lucien exhales hard through his nose. “If Dimitri’s on that, he’s not gonna last. Especially if the Vipers are giving it to him.”

You frown, “Why especially?”

“I mean, come on. Same reason you and your friend beat the shit out of him all those years ago,” You flinch at the memory. “He was weak and nobody gave a shit about him except Nat. My guess is the kid probably went back to ‘em for help, and they saw an opportunity to make him a lab rat.” You feel Bruce shift behind you as his cape brushes what little of your arm you were allowed to leave exposed here. Lucien’s eyes drift up Bruce’s body, sparkling with some new recollection, “And with Mr. Vengeance on the streets, I imagine juicing your best men up with venom oughtta make a nice challenge.”

Lucien watches as you process what he'd realized instantly. Behind the feigned impassivity, some little bit of him seems to find this just as awful as you do. Even if it's just pity, a shake of the head as foresight grants him the knowledge that what comes next will undoubtedly be a tragedy.

It had to have been Dimitri’s first time on venom when he attacked Russo, and as uncoordinated as he was, he had put up a fight against Bruce. You couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if he got better at it. If he got more of it. And he would, if the Vipers had any sense. You knew they didn't give a shit about you, or Russo, or Alex, or Dimitri. They were just hoping that his rage would make a casualty out of the Batman.

He was going to kill himself for the chance. And the Vipers wouldn't care. They would leave his doped up, bloated carcass in the street like they had left Nat.

You realize that you aren't breathing when you feel a cool hand on your upper back, closing around your scruff and sending a jolt of awareness through you. You almost think that it's Dimitri—having crawled out of your racing thoughts and come to take you once and for all—before realizing that it was Bruce, hovering so close now that his cape brushed your shoulders. His leather-clad thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, and when you look up to see him looking down at you, you catch him imploring you for something. Urging you to get out of your head.

Looking at him reminds you to breathe. You take one deep breath in, holding his gaze, and turn back to Lucien.

When you do, he looks different now. His eyes linger on Bruce’s hand. When you ask him your next question, he doesn’t seem to delight in the drama of it anymore, “After Dimitri was put away, what did the Vipers do?”

Lucien stares at you, then past you. His tone is solemn after a few moments of silence, “It was business as usual. They packed up what they could, moved to their other safe-houses in the city, relocated and reallocated. They talked about… the kid costing more than he was worth. Handful of us pitched in and got Nat a grave. I’ve been a few times. Not recently. It was nice.”

“Where?”

His eyes narrow at you, “Why do you give a shit? You feel guilty? Wanna leave some flowers for the dearly departed?”

You feel your lower lip wobble and you curse the feelings burning inside you. You were trying so hard to keep it together. “Do you think any of the Vipers would bother to tell him?”

He stares at you for a minute. Someone new walks into your peripheral view. It’s one of the correctional officers warning you about time. Something soft coats Lucien’s voice then, "She's in St. Agatha’s cemetery, near the treeline. The name on the marker is Adelpha Lions. We couldn't bury her as Natalie.”

Adelpha Lions. St. Agatha's. You think about bringing her flowers, but the thought leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

The officer from before comes back to escort the three of you out, and Lucien doesn't bother to acknowledge her or James thanking him for his time. He only watches you, leveling you with a look of such contempt that you feel your chest hollow out, breath stolen again. He watches you well until the door to the visitation room swings shut.

Bruce and James walk ahead of you, though you notice that Bruce lags behind, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you're keeping up. James mentions something about keeping an eye on the cemetery, just in case Dimitri does know about it, and it leaves the same terrible taste in your mouth from before.

You know you ought to say something, but you find yourself drifting after them, mind elsewhere, stuck on the way Lucien looked at you. It was like a switch flipped when he saw Bruce touch you.

Why had he touched you? So blatantly, so intimately? He had to have known how that would look. Could it have been that he didn't care? Or, that he cared more about you?

You peek at Bruce’s profile as you walk; the cold lights above you both make the black of his cowl stand out, but they also make the blue of his eyes that much more piercing when they suddenly zero in on you. Your name is called. You look to the side and see James staring at you, expecting, worried almost, “You good back there?”

“Sorry. What?”

“I said I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Alone. If you don't mind.”

You look at Bruce. His eyes have focused on James now, searching for what he might want to talk about. You wished you could read minds. You decide it couldn't hurt to ask, “Can I ask what about?”

“Just some... questions. We haven't had the chance to really speak since the night you were attacked. I'd like to follow up with you." You bristle when you realize he expects Bruce to fully leave. James notices, glancing between you and Bruce. "I’ll drop you back at Wayne Tower, since your detail says that’s where you’re staying now.” When you don't make a move to confirm, he sighs, jerking his thumb toward the exit, "...I'll let you two talk."

You watch him walk toward the parking garage, just as Bruce crowds up against you, dropping his voice to a whisper, "He wants to know about me."

"Yeah, no shit. What do I say to him?"

"I told him I'd look into Bruce Wayne to keep him off my trail. There's not much I can do since you told him what you saw." You can hear the irritation bleed through his words. "As far as he knows, Bruce Wayne could be a suspect and you could be in danger."

You curse under your breath, "So I need to clear your name."

"What exactly did you tell him the night you were attacked? Exactly."

"I... I said that I had reason to believe... uh, confidential information was leaked to Bruce."

"Did you tell him exactly what the information was?"

"No."

"Did you tell him where you saw it?"

"No. Just that I knew you knew something you shouldn't. But he knows I had no proof."

Bruce goes quiet. You see him looking off to the side, eyes flicking to and from as he thinks about what to say next. Each second feels like a minute, and you keep watch over the direction James went for fear he'd come looking for you after too long.

You feel Bruce's hand take your upper arm and he brings you closer, tucking you away from the security cameras overhead and into him instead, "Can you lie?"

"You want me to lie to a detective?"

"We don't have a lot of options here. Can you lie?"

You frown, biting into your bottom lip to ground yourself. The pain focuses you some, "What do you want me to say?"

It's your luck that James is patient. A few minutes later, you find him propped up against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for you and Bruce. Bruce gives you both a single nod before heading off to his own car, leaving you alone with the detective and the world of questions he could be gearing up to ask you.

But before you prepare yourself for the first one, James walks around to the driver's side door, flashing you a playful look, “You ever seen the Bat Signal up close?”

The answer was obviously no, but now that it was right in front of you, you wanted nothing more than to see it turned on. You'd seen it light up the cloudy night sky a million times it felt like, and it never failed to take your breath away. It's far too sunny out to see it now. As the chilly breeze tries to sneak under your clothes, you turn to watch the sunlight glint off the skyscrapers, enjoying the little bit snowy Gotham afforded this late in the year.

The city’s still loud from this high up, but it’s different. Kind of like how it felt watching the city from the penthouse. Up here, it felt secluded. Private. Perhaps that’s why James picked it. He kicks the base of the floodlight with his shoe and it barely tremors, “Was a hell of a time trying to get this thing up here. Chief's still coming around to it.”

You think about the burner phone in your pocket. Bruce’s relationship with the rest of the GCPD was… strained at best, but he and James seemed close; you wondered just how deep their relationship went, exactly. Apparently, not deep enough to tell him who he was.

His voice catches your attention just then. “You living with Wayne, now? How'd that happen?"

You breath out a heavy sigh, “I uh… yeah. He offered. After the whole thing with Dimitri. Just until he’s caught.”

“That’s awfully generous.” You don’t respond to that, so he presses more. "Did he offer or did he...?"

"He offered. No coercion." That wasn't entirely the truth, but you had no room for nuance right now.

“Do you feel safe with him?”

“I do.”

“You seemed worried when we first talked about him. You said he had your file.”

“I... I said that I thought he had access to it. Because of something he said."

James’ eyes narrow at you, watching you with his head tilted. “What'd he say to you?"

"He just mentioned something about the... the case. I told him where I grew up and it jogged a memory."

"Is that so?"

You cursed how apathetic James could make himself look. You had no clue if this was working on him, only that you had to follow through with this, seams tight, no loopholes. "He heard about the shooting. His butler, Alfred, he's always been really protective of Bruce. Everyone knew the Vipers snatched kids with no one to check on them, I think he just wanted Bruce to stay safe. Make sure he didn't make the wrong decision if he went out and got himself in trouble. Like I did."

"So, you told Wayne where you grew up, he brought up the shooting, it triggered something in you. You assumed he knew about your file and you felt threatened. That's why you went to the Bat."

"Yeah."

"And now... nothing?" James raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the empty air. "It's all good now?"

It wouldn't be a good story if it was all good. You twist away from James, leaning against a nearby pillar, "Not exactly. I don't know if he really knows or not, it just felt like a scary coincidence. You know? But I told Batman and he said he'd look into it. I trust him above all else."

"You seemed so sure the night I interviewed you."

"I was looking for patterns."

James hums. "The Bat seems to really like you."

That a was a shift. You perk up a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He speaks highly of you. Says I can trust you like I trust him. If you say you feel safe for now, I trust you." Your skin prickles with flattery. "There's just something that's not quite making sense to me."

“Oh?”

"When I looked into your file, nothing looked out of place. GCPD keeps a log of who accesses a file, and from what I could tell, it hadn’t been touched in years. It looked fine… at first.”

Had this been a few days ago, this information would have shook you to your core. It still does, but for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m—admittedly—not great with computers. Normally, I’d ask the guys down in IT about this kind of thing, but seeing as… anyone could be involved, I had my daughter take a look at it. She-“

“Your daughter?”

James pauses. You were no cop, but that didn’t sound particularly legal. Then again, you didn’t have much room to speak. “She… she showed me the metadata, beyond just the stuff we usually see up front, and she found something. The database logs who accesses what because poking around files you have no business looking at can get your badge taken. Needless to say, she found more than a few things wrong.”

“Oh?” This time, your “oh” sounds decidedly more nervous.

“The name and badge number of the last person to access your file was scrubbed from the frontend, but it was still available on the backend. It was an officer, Paul Brown. When I pulled him aside to ask why he needed your file, he claimed he didn’t know anything about it or you. He seemed to be telling the truth, but doing some further digging, I found a trail of cases he’d been accessing over the past two years. Cases related to certain notable figures in the city.”

Notable figures. Like Bruce? Was there more he hadn’t told you?

"I found a connection between those cases and some recent movement from the Penguin. Turned out the guy was a mole feeding intel to Cobblepot. And not just him. I was checking the files he accessed against a timeline of events, and I have reason to believe he’s been feeding a couple of politicians the same need-to-know information. Politicians like Daniel Roberts.”

“Councilman Roberts.” You feel your blood pressure rise as James nods, “Detective, I don’t mean to be rude, but should I even be hearing about this? This sounds serious, way too serious for me-“

“You were there that night at the party Wayne threw, and so was Roberts.”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. There were tons of politicians there who support the mayor. Bruce is interested in politics. Doesn’t mean he’s in bed with them.”

Your defense seems to intrigue James. He rests an arm on the floodlight, “Did the two seem chummy at the party?”

“They didn’t really… talk. I mean, he intervened when I got into an argument with Roberts, but-“

“An argument about what?”

You could kick yourself. It was like this man had a skill for drawing the truth out of you. “It was stupid. He said some stuff about Batman and it got me riled up. Bruce put out the fire.”

“Roberts is the most vocal anti-vigilante member on the city council. Now I know he's connected to a dirty cop, and that he's in Bruce Wayne's circle. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?”

You swallow, “What exactly are these questions leading to, detective?”

James moves away from the floodlight, approaching you slowly, cautiously, as if he expected you to take flight the second he got too close. “You told me that night that you knew Wayne had information about you he shouldn't have. I found the thread, I pulled it, and now I find Wayne at the center all over again. I'm looking for patterns, too. So, I'm going to ask you again," You watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, flipping the screen to you. In big, bold text, it reads, "NOD IF WE'RE BEING RECORDED" "Are you sure you're safe?"

You should win an Emmy for how you school your expression into one of complete nothingness. All the while in your head, you are cursing the very bed Bruce was conceived upon. You curse him for leaving you here to explain all this, but most of all, you wish you’d kept his bottle of brandy.

You shake your head. James blinks. "I'm sure." You watch him exhale heavily, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I'm telling you what I believe, detective. I believe I was wrong about Bruce Wayne."

"Maybe. But maybe there's more out there I still need to find."

"You're a good detective, James. Thank you for caring so much. If you can't trust me, trust Batman. If there's something to find, he'll find it."

You can see the slight shake in James’ shoulders. You wonder if he’s starting to freeze up here. You reach into your pocket and hand him one of your warmers, and though he recoils when you first hold out your hand, he thinks about it for a moment, then takes it. "You and the Bat..." He starts, rubbing his thumb against the heat pack in his hand. "He tell you who he is?"

You dodge the question as stealthily as you can, "Did he tell you?"

James considers your question, stern-faced and shivering, “No. But I have my theories." After a moment, he side-eyes you. "You didn't answer my question."

"It's... not for me to say."

He's not satisfied, and you didn’t expect him to be, but he looks too tired to argue now. He runs a hand along his face and looks out onto the city horizon. Under his breath, you hear him whisper, “Yeah. I figured.”

"He trusts you a lot, you know. For the record. I can see why."

You watch him reach into the pocket of his coat and pull out a lighter and cigarette, bringing it to his lips to take a long, deep drag. He holds one out to you, but you shake your head. You'd never been one for smoking (you'd seen the effect it had on the insides), but you could envy the temporary peace on James' face as he blows out a cloud of smoke. "Not a lot of that to spare these days."

a/n: this was a bitch to write with a headache

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites #bw; rprt

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wnobin · 9 months

Text

dinosaurs and bears 🦕

childhood crush! anton x fem! reader

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

chapter synopsis: you and anton reconnect in college but he seems different. different hair colour, different style, but still the same anton you fell in love with.

intro | part one | part two | part three | part four (final!)

it’s been almost a year since you last saw anton in person. you stood outside his house, waiting for your turn to say your goodbyes to him, trying your best to suppress your tears. after anton’s dad gave him a hug and patted his back, it was now your turn with him.

“so are you excited to spend the next four hours on the road?” anton chuckled softly at your question, nodding as he reached into his bag and pulling out something. it was your childhood teddy bear that you gave him during your first meeting as kids. “not really but it’ll be more tolerable when i have a mini you with me.”

at this point your lips were already quivering, eyes welling up with tears. “can’t believe you’re bringing mr. fuzzles with you…” your voice was shaking, tears already rolling down your cheeks. how were you supposed to deal with not seeing anton everyday? you just wanted him close all the time, he was the one you ran to every time something good or bad happened and you couldn’t imagine running to anyone else. as supportive as you were, you didn’t want him to leave at all.

“c’mon you promised you wouldn’t cry. you pinky promised!” anton playfully ruffled your hair before bringing his thumb up to wipe the tears off your rosy cheeks. you had snot dripping from your nose, hiccuping as you sobbed. despite that, anton still found you adorable and thought you were so, so pretty. he couldn’t help but pull you into a tight hug, rubbing your back as he comforted you. you held onto him tightly, as if it would stop him from leaving. “don’t want you to go, anton… who’s gonna tie my laces for me and read to me when i can’t sleep?”

letting out a shaky breath, anton felt tears threatening to fall. he told you not to cry but he couldn’t help but to do the same when he saw how heartbroken you were over him leaving. he didn’t want to let go of you, your presence feeling like home to him. he eventually broke the hug, hands finding their way to your cheeks as he tilted your head up to look at him. anton’s eyes were glossy and he let out shaky breaths through his parted lips. he looked so pretty like this. you always thought anton was the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. anton leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “call me when you can’t sleep. i’ll read you bedtime stories, like always. okay?”

eventually, anton had to leave. you waved him goodbye until the car was out of sight and you weren’t crying as hard anymore. you promised yourself that day that you would do anything to be by anton’s side again. you couldn’t bear being apart from him. sure, you and anton would frequently call at any spare moment you two had, no matter how tired you both were. it just wasn’t the same, you wanted anton as close to you as possible. you spent day and night studying hard, telling yourself that it would all be worth it when you get into the same college as anton and you would be with him again. your other friends called you insane, dedicating hours to studying and flaking on plans with them just so you could attend the same school as anton. you ignored them, they didn’t understand and they were never as important to you as anton was anyways. after months of putting your heart and soul into endless hours of studying, your efforts finally paid off when you opened the acceptance letter to anton’s college. anton didn’t know that you were studying so hard just to be with him again and you didn’t know how to break the news to him.

now here you were, standing in front of anton’s dorm room while carrying two heavy bags filled with items to give him. you decided it was best to surprise him in person. when anton’s parents found out you were planning to visit him, his mom made sure to send you off with boxes upon boxes of homemade food and a slip of paper with anton’s address on it. you were hesitant to ring the doorbell, maybe you should have called him beforehand instead of showing up out of the blue. before you could ring the doorbell or pussy out and leave, the door of the unit swung open to reveal a taller male with brown hair. “can i help you?” this definitely wasn’t anton and anton didn’t have roommates either.

realisation sunk in. this wasn’t anton’s dorm and you were given the wrong address. “oh my god— i must be at the wrong dorm, i was looking for—“

“y/n?”

you turned your head to find anton standing next to you. he was carrying a duffle bag, hair messy and slightly disheveled, as if he just came from practice. you stared at him, taken aback by how different he looked now compared to when you last saw him. anton was taller now, arms bigger, and his hair was red. you completely forgot about the stranger whose door you were standing at. “you never told me you dyed your hair.”

“and you never told me you were coming.” he ran his fingers through his red strands, corners of his lips turning to give you his shy smile that you missed seeing so badly. your heart couldn’t help but to skip a beat. although he looked different, his soft spoken voice and personality stayed the same and you felt like you were falling in love all over again. “came here to surprise you.”

anton pulled you into a tight hug, almost crushing your bones. you didn’t care that he was sweaty, you just missed his touch and wanted to stay like that for as long as possible. anton was here. anton is finally by your side again. “um, hello…??”

your attention was brought back to the confused man and you cleared your throat, apologising. “eunseok, this is y/n! you remember her, my best friend!” anton talked about you to his college friends? your head began to turn dizzy, a slight blush creeping up onto your cheeks as you waved at eunseok, who waved back. “did my mom give you the wrong unit number? swear she does that all the time, so many of my packages end up at eunseok’s dorm.” anton groaned as he looked at the slip of paper with his address that you held. you nodded sheepishly, still unable to process that you were seeing anton in person again and how good he looked. college really did him good. “well, i’m gonna head to my classes. you two have fun!”

eunseok bid his goodbyes after locking his door, leaving you and anton on your own. “these for me?” he gestured to the food filled bags. “your mom made it for you.”

“really?! i missed it so much. missed you too, of course.”

anton mumbled the last part but you still heard it, your mind replaying his words. anton missed you. you wondered if he thought about you as much as you did about him. you couldn’t help but to stare at him unashamedly. while you remained the same height, anton looks like he had a growth spurt in the past year, towering over you. his shoulders were wider and arms so toned and muscular now. “you gonna keep staring or you wanna come in?”

snapping back to reality, anton had already unlocked his door and helped to bring in the heavy bags that you struggled to lift. you stepped in to his dorm, which was unsurprisingly clean and tidy except for a few hoodies laying around. he had a guitar displayed in his living room and a few potted plants around. “you like it here?” you hummed and nodded, eyes still scanning around the living room and kitchen area as anton began to unpack tupperware containers filled with food into his refrigerator. you began to stare at him again, unable to stop yourself from admiring his features. his gorgeous eyes that you always loved staring into, his jawline that looked as if it was chiseled by micheal angelo, his plump lips that look so kissable, his arms that you wanted so badly to bite onto.

“let me show you my room next!” anton excitedly held onto your hand and dragged you into his bedroom once he was done putting away all the food. anton hoped you couldn’t feel how sweaty his palms were from how nervous he was to see you again. throughout his time in college, the thought of you plagued his mind. it was hard not to think of you when you were at the top of his notifications everyday, when he slept with your teddy bear every night and when he looked at his books, all he could think of was when you would both read them together. all he thought about was you and when he would see you again. he would tell his college friends about you, showing them your pictures with hearts in his eyes. he thought it was just normal friendship stuff to be missing you so badly, especially since you’ve been friends for over a decade. that was until sungchan, eunseok’s roommate laughed at him. “dude, you obviously like her and she obviously likes you. this isn’t a friendship anymore.” anton wasn’t sure which he was more shocked by, the fact that he definitely had feelings for you or the fact that you probably felt the same. his group of friends hummed in agreement, shotaro throwing around a joke that anton shows you off like you’re his girlfriend.

the first thing that caught your eye was the teddy bear on anton’s bed, cutely tucked into the sheets. “aww, you’re taking such good care of him!” your giggles sounded like music to his ears. god, he missed you so much. after his friends told him he was probably in love with you, he would lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling while thinking of you. did he like you? of course not! you were his friend, basically like a little sister to him. but then again, he never found any other girl as attractive to him as you. whenever he went on dates, he would find the girls to be difficult to connect with. they would poke fun at his soft spoken personality and try to get him to be more extroverted. you on the other hand, encouraged him to be the purest version of himself, never once complaining about how shy he is and how he liked to keep to himself. did anton think you were pretty? definitely! he loved how soft and plump your cheeks were, he would lay in bed thinking about the next time he got to squish your cheeks. he loved your soft and warm personality, always ready to comfort him when he was stressed about practice and assignments despite you being miles away. he loved you. he just didn’t know how to tell you, or if he even should. “so… did you just take a four hour car ride to drop off food for me?”

you fiddled with your fingers, a sheepish smile on your face as you got closer to anton. “we’re gonna be schoolmates! i start next semester!” anton feels his heart speed up, not only from the close proximity but also the fact that he would get to see you everyday from now on. it would definitely be harder for him to hide his feelings but he was happy for you and there was nothing more that he wanted than to be neighbours with you again. “that’s amazing! i’m so happy for you!”

you and anton spent the rest of the day catching up, talking until the sun went down and then ordering in food for dinner. he convinced you to stay the night, insisting that it was too late and that you could go back in the morning. the both of you sat next to each other, backs against the wall as anton ranted about his exams that recently ended, thankful that the next few weeks would be a break for him and that he was planning to go home for awhile. you and anton talked like before and you were thankful that there was no awkward stage and your chemistry still remained unchanged. “i was really stressed that one night when my laptop died on me an hour before my submission! luckily my work was saved and i managed to submit everything on time… so to celebrate, i dyed my hair on impulse with the help of my friends.” anton had his head on your lap as you played with it, braiding a small section of it. his hair was so long now and he looked so breathtaking. you could tell his energy was slowly fleeting as his voice got softer and he eventually stopped talking. you continued to pat his head as he drifted off into sleep, eyes fluttering shut as he let out soft snores.

you were okay with never being anything with anton, remaining friends forever as long as it meant that he would be by your side. you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him, not knowing what you would do without him.

#riize x reader #riize #riize fluff #riize smut #riize imagines #anton fluff #riize anton x reader #anton imagines #anton x reader #riize anton

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marigold-hills · 3 months

Text

June 28: cowboy | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 564

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

“I suppose we could just… apparate back to London,” James says, as they all stand on the train platform. Little first years running around excited for the summer holidays (and were they really that small, when they first started at Hogwarts? It didn’t seem possible).

“Would be quicker,” Peter agrees.

“The trunks would be a bit of a pain though,” their Moony, as always, voice of reason.

“No way,” Sirius, appalled, “it’s our last time. I want to buy my weight in candy and deface the walls of our compartment. Leave a mark: here were the Marauders, first of their name.”

“Poignant, Padfoot.”

“Have to leave a legacy.”

“I thought the Map was our legacy?”

“Can have more than one legacy, Wormy boy.”

“Right you are, Pads. Train it is then.”

“Prongs,” Moony asks as they’re levitating their belongings onto the train, “don’t you have Head Boy stuff to do anyway?”

A shrug, careless: “It’s not like they’ll put me in detention if I skip.”

“You’re incorrigible, Potter,” Lily chimes in from behind them, grabbing James by the arm and dragging him off with her. “Come on, we’ll get over with it quick and then I promise I’ll let you go back to your band of rascals.”

“Oi! That’s not what we’re called.”

“Sure, sure. My mistake. Buccaneers.”

“You’re a terrible woman, Lily Evans. Pads, if the trolly lady comes by before I’m back, get me something would you? Get your Moony to choose though, your taste is weird.”

(Your Moony, he says. Most natural thing.)

“Come on, cowboy,” Regulus chimes in, waiting for Lily and James at the end of the train corridor, eyebrow raised in something too fond to be mocking. Sirius waves at him.

“He’ll be alright, love,” Moony tugs at his hand as the three walk away. “It’s just a year.”

Because his Moony always knows when he’s getting worried, even before it really registers.

It’s a bittersweet thing, to be in the train, in the same seats they occupied when they first met and every year since. Sirius remembers the first time he spoke with James, the instant connection between them. The first time Peter shared food with him, a too-warm ploughman’s sandwich. And Moony, scared out of his wits and trying to hide it behind put upon brashness, as if his big eyes didn’t show the truth.

“We’ll be alright, too,” Sirius responds and Moony smiles like he finally believes it.

“Merlin’s balls, I thought it was bad when you two were pining,” Peter cuts in, “is this what it’s going to be, living with you?”

“Don’t begrudge us our love, Wormy boy,” Sirius dramatically flings himself against Remus’ side.

“Course not, mate. You’ve just become… mushy. Sappy.”

Remus kisses the side of his head, such a natural gesture (like it’s something they’ve done for years, like it wasn’t new), Sirius feels almost silly at the pleased blush he can feel heating up his face.

The trolly comes, and they buy more than is probably necessary. James comes back, hair in a disarray, pleased as a punch, clearly haven’t gotten a snog after the prefects meeting. (“I don’t kiss and tell, gentlemen.”)

Sirius doesn’t deface the walls of the compartment, but he does carve the underside of his seat, where it won’t be spotted and shouldn’t be removed.

All is well.

P + M + P + W

NOTES

And they all lived happily ever after because there were no evil wizards ever.

The last two chapters will be fluffy epilogues.

thank you so much for sticking with this story so far <3 <3

moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog @shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks @bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss @prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover @weirdtinkerbellversion @deadcupcakehere @theprettieststarfr @dumbass-gryffindor1960

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

#remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders #sirius black #dead gay wizards #fanfic #remus x sirius #marauders era #microfiction #wolfstar microfic

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rojacatmisa · 4 months

Text

Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one

TW: may content explicit sex, +18

6K words

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The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me.

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ?

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened.

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate.

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us.

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break.

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women, getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up.

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them.

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted.

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left.

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted.

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path.

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked.

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting.

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench.

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view of the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet.

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious.

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…"

Hayley put out her brand new camera "I think it’s cute" she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us.

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves.

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me.

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !"

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat rows under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone was taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage.

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French player dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area.

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense.

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team.

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent.

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed.

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night out with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa to finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !"

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready".

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders.

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor.

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally.

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer.

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me.

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her.

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like moths on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd.

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side.

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked.

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris.

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features.

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people.

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other.

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered.

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore.

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning.

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women".

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !".

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!".

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment.

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame.

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered.

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well".

"God sake, Hayley…"

***

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity.

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance.

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain.

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift.

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside.

"Perdon Nicky !" Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !"

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved.

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again.

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again.

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her.

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump.

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible.

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach.

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant.

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down.

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want.

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm.

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss.

I exhaled and rested against her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth.

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head to put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer.

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish whimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full.

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel.

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had fell asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze

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serejae · 3 months

Text

WE CANT BE FRIENDS | 17. YOU CLING TO YOUR PAPERS AND PENS, WAIT UNTIL YOU LIKE ME AGAIN

(written)

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paring : myung jae x fem!reader | wc: 700 ish | warnings : none (this chapter is bootycheeks next one is better trust!!!) | genre : fluff and angst @onedoornet

mstl

taglist @lilriswife4life @cherrytaesan @tubatu-lovie @woonsbot @guiltysungho @taylorluvation @kage-yaa @lionhanie @dearly-somber @nicholasluvbot @nujeskz @unhakki @lblossom21 @crispy-kirby @seunghancore @nctrawberries @i03jae @icewons @miidorei @hanbinniesmango @helpsplease @dongminz

its been 55 minutes since jaehyun was supposed to be here. orginally your solo shot was suppose to be shot today, but woonhak texted the group chats changing the plans. sure jaehyun couldve not seen the text but you doubted it, maybe he was embarrassed but you had a sense of deja vu.

you heard woonhak sigh making you look up. “we can just film your solo shot today” you nod and follow him as he walks out his door. as you follow him to the park he starts recording you.

“we have L/N Y/N here and in this segment you’ll be asked questions that you WILL answer without jaehyun around” he started “will?” you laughed at his phrasing “long story…anyways!”

“what are your opinions on myung jaehyun?”

you keep walking looking at the ground and something just blew up in you. “he hasnt changed like at all. cause for the viewers, jaehyun and i were suppose to be filming together again but he didn’t show up and this is what he always did! especially for dates, i’ll wait for hours alone just for him to be in his studio so i’m really not suprised that he isnt here. i swear his office saw him more than i did in our almosy 2 years of dating. its irresponsible no? just to ditch everything for your career and don’t get me wrong im all in for it but its just…” you paused, why were you so bothered? “next question please woonhak.”

“i thought you both ended on good terms?”

“pfft thats what you both tell everyone when you first end things but deep down there…well like you said before lingering feelings that you just cant express because it already ended and now since everyone thinks you both ended things well you start overthinking, ‘hm i shouldnt feel this way we ended things well’ , ‘theres no point on being stuck on him now because we’re friends’ but you both know damn well you ended things ‘on good terms’ because you both swept the conversation you needed to have about the breakup under the carpet due to the fact you and them are pussies who cant handle confrontation.”

“so what if the mess under the rug is too much to the point you cant sweep anymore?”

“um, well…

either you both stand on the elevated rug thats floating at this point ontop of both your guys mess and never talk to each other again because if you do, inevitably the conversation you tried to avoid will be brought up.

or you…

fix it?”

“do you think ending things on good terms is better than ending it on bad terms?”

“no. if you end on bad terms you have nothing to talk about, because youre too focused on hating each other, but good terms each time youre around that person your mind cant help but go ‘what if?’ and soon they start to fill up your mind the same way they did when you were crushing on them then the cycle repeats of you falling in love again but then again you cant do anything because you already broke up and once they move on you have a resentment or a heartbreak feeling towards them.

the same way it does when you both end on bad terms.”

“do you…” woonhak paused and noticed your neck area. “ive always seen the chain around your neck but i never seen the charm on the necklace before” he said examining the necklack, the charm was a heart pendant with mj+(l/n initial + f/n initial) on it with the date you both started dating under. shit, you forgot the tuck it into your shirt.

quickly you tuck it into your shirt and clear your throat

“do you ever have any ‘what if’s with jaehyun, and…theres no need to lie now” woonhak laughed

you smiled and bit and continued “uhm, i wonder where him and i would be if he didnt end things. like would we be together still? if yes is the love still pure, or what we would be together right now but if we still ended things i wonder if it wouldve been on bad terms.”

“do you think of him often?”

“yeah.” no. what?

yeah?

as in yes?

you turn to look at woonhak and he looks at you with wide eyes.

“oh look a music store!! woonhak i completely forgot i told a friend id meet them there, we can end this now!” you rushed out

“NO YN! I CAN COME INSIDE AND FILM-“

“BYE!”

you run inside of the music store and pant hiding behind a shelf. when you look up and see a pair of familiar eyes. you groan silently and rested your head against the shelf, its like he’s been spawning everywhere lately and its not for the better. you look up again and see he’s staring at your neck, looking down you realize the necklace that you tucked away somehow escaped and is now staring at jaehyun. you look back up with your cheeks hot and realized hes gone

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swarvey · 3 months

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paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> You interrogate Harvey at dinner; Harvey plays a little too dumb.

a/n: or, harvey tries not to have a panic attack in front of you at the stardrop </3 someone get him a paper bag to breathe into pls

+ i think i'll mainly update this fic throughout the week so i can have a break on weekends ! enjoy <33

ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5

paper rings masterlist

chapter four: right where you left me -> "help, i'm still at the restaurant."

The Stardrop was pretty much empty when Harvey walked in, picking a table in the corner with two chairs. He wasn’t expecting to see you for another half hour, but being timely never hurt, did it? Besides, he wanted some time to think about the words his friends had left him with after leaving his apartment.

“Remember to stay calm,” Elliott had told him. “Be your natural self, doctor, and I assure you she will be falling for you before you even notice.”

“I would make sure she’s single first,” Shane had countered. “No point in doing all this crap if she’s not lookin’.”

Surprisingly, they both had good points. Harvey was glad he had them to rely on — he had no idea what he would do if he solely had to rely on his own thoughts. Honestly, he doubted he would be getting dinner with you if he had.

“Waiting for someone?” Gus asked, walking over to his table to set down the two glasses of water he’d requested.

“Yes, the new farmer,” Harvey replied, scooting one of the glasses in front of your chair. “She’ll be here shortly.”

“Ah, right! I used to babysit her from time to time, you know, when her grandfather was too busy. I’m glad to hear the two of you are still good friends.”

Harvey wanted to cringe at the bartender’s last phrase, but covered it with a slightly pained smile.

“We both thought this would be a good place to sit down and talk for a little,” he explained, checking the time again. “It’s been quite a while since we’ve had time for each other.”

“Well, I suppose that’s how it gets as we get older,” Gus sighed. “Anyway, don’t mind me, I’ll stay in the back and take inventory so the two of you can have some privacy. How about I get a pizza goin’ in the kitchen for the two of you? On me.”

“Gus, please, you don’t have to—”

“Please, the kid used to call me her second Gramps. It feels wrong not feeding the two of you,” he expressed, waving his hand in the air as he headed back toward the bar. “Just give me a little time, I’ll get it right out for you!”

Harvey huffed a laugh at the older man’s antics, realizing how long he’d been in Pelican Town. He vaguely remembered seeing Gus as a child, though he was hiding behind his parent’s legs most of the time they spoke to him.

After waiting a few minutes, the door to the saloon creaked open as you walked in, smiling as your eyes met his. He shyly waved, swallowing his fear and quickly taking a sip of water.

“Here I thought I was early,” you joked, sitting across from him. “When did you get here?”

“Not too long ago,” he lied. “I didn’t have much else going on today, so I finished up a couple of things back at home and got here whenever I could.”

“Right.” He blinked at the tone of your voice. Did you not believe him? “Thanks again for helping me out this morning, by the way. I’m pretty much all done setting up the house for the spring.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m here for anything you need.”

Silence.

Harvey was puzzled. He’d only seen you a few hours prior, yet your demeanor felt completely different. Immediately, he started playing back every interaction you two had, scouring for the moment he made a mistake. He was sure he had avoided any sort of awkward scenario, though.

“Alright,” you sighed, hands falling onto your lap, “I have to confess. I stopped by your place earlier.”

“Oh, you did?” Harvey questioned, surprised. “I must not have heard.”

“No, it’s not your fault, I never ended up knocking.” You chewed your lip for a moment before saying, “I, um, heard you talking with your friends, I think.”

His heart stopped.

Harvey swore he blacked out for a split second at the thought of you hearing everything he’d said to Shane and Elliott, a cold shiver running down his spine. It’s over, he thought. My efforts have ended before I even gave myself a chance to start.

“Y-You did?” he said, blinking rapidly as he tried to come up with the right words. “Are you . . . upset?”

You laughed shortly, shaking your head. “No, Harvey, why would I be? It’s not my place to feel that way.”

“Oh. I see.” Confusion replaced his panic at your rather calm stature, watching as you ran a finger down the condensation of your glass.

“I mean, I can’t really blame you for not telling me, can I?” you reasoned. “We’ve barely talked over the past couple of years, so we never got the chance to talk about girls or guys or anything like that. So,” you prop up your arms with your elbows and rest your chin on your hands, “tell me about her. I want to know what this girl is like to have you so lovestruck.”

For a second, he thought you were playing a joke on him — some sick, twisted joke to get him to say all the things about you he’d grown to love. When your expression didn’t change, though, he realized you must not have heard the girl he’d been talking about was you.

“Well,” he started, trying to recover himself, “she’s awfully smart, and always finding new ways to surprise me. She’s kind, and remembers every little detail about me. Sometimes I think she knows me better than I know myself.” He continued to list his favorite traits about you he’d gathered throughout the years. They slipped off his tongue easily; he thought about them often, after all.

You hummed, nodding. Harvey had to use all his willpower not to laugh and reveal you were assessing if you would be a good partner to him.

“What does she do for a living?” you asked, and he scrambled to think of a quick answer.

“She’s a nurse,” he decided on, thinking it would make the most sense. “We’ve been friends for quite a bit.”

“A nurse, huh?” You sat up, smiling at him. “You know what? I approve.”

“Really?” He couldn’t believe it. Truly, he couldn’t. He had just gained your endorsement to date yourself. He laughed, pushing up his glasses. “I’m glad. I guess we never got the chance to talk about these kinds of things, did we?”

“I guess not.”

“Here we are, folks!” Gus made his way to their table with a steaming pizza in his hands, triumphantly placing it in front of the two. He looked at you and grinned, ruffling your hair. “How ya been, kiddo? It’s been too long.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Gus,” you responded warmly. “Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

“That’s great to hear. I’ll leave you two to it, then.” He walked away, sneaking a wink to Harvey that he pretended not to see.

“Anyways,” you continued, picking up a slice and blowing on it, “you probably would have hated hearing about my boy situations in college.”

Harvey quickly swallowed the piece of pizza in his mouth before hesitantly replying, “So you did meet someone in the city. How about now?”

You shrugged. “Well, nothing now, but there were a couple guys I dated in college that didn’t last super long. There was also one at Joja who wasn’t half bad, but things just didn’t end up working out.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t realize until then how ugly of a feeling jealousy was. To ignore the feeling, he opted to focus on the fact that you were, in fact, single. Now, he just had to figure out how to clear up the misunderstanding he’d created. He wanted to slap himself at the mess he’d made, but nothing had gone as planned.

You cleared your throat, snapping him back to the conversation. “I’m glad to hear you have someone in sight, Harvs. You know, I always thought you would be too shy to express your feelings like that,” you confessed. “She must really be something special to grab your attention.”

“She is.” Harvey tried to read your expression as you ate, noticing your scrunched brow and pursed lips. Were you jealous, too? “Though I’m not sure she feels the same way as me.”

You huffed, finishing the last slice and wiping your hands on your napkin. “Then she’s an idiot,” you declared. “Honestly, Harvey, you may be a dork sometimes, but you’ve got your charm.”

“You think so?” His heart skipped a beat.

You paused, and he stifled a smile as he watched you become flustered. “It’s good she’s a nurse,” you said, looking away. “You two can nerd out about that stuff together. Maybe you can get her into planes, too.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, overjoyed that you remembered his secret hobby. “That would be perfect.”

After a moment, he realized you were silent, looking to be deep in thought as you stared at the table.

“How about a drink?” he suggested, standing up to grab Gus.

“Actually, I think I’m alright,” you replied quickly, avoiding his eyes as you started to gather your things. “It’s been a long day, I think I might go turn in.”

“Of course! I can walk you back—”

“It’s fine.”

He stared at you, unable to conceal his look of confusion and hurt as you put on your jacket. After noticing his stare, you smiled reassuringly at him, reaching over to lightly grab his arm.

“I said it’s fine, Harvey, I’m just really tired, okay? Stop overthinking things,” you said, heading to the door. “Don’t miss me too much, alright? Remember, I’m right next door now.”

“Right,” he replied, waving slightly. “I’ll see you soon?”

“See you!” You left with one last smile, the sound of the door shutting seeming to ring in Harvey’s ears. As if your leaving was their cue, the townspeople began to file in, calling out for Gus and their usual orders.

Harvey sat back down in his chair with a thud. Now alone in his corner, he slouched and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. How, how could everything have gone so wrong? Not only did he dig himself into a deeper hole, but you were now under the impression that he had feelings for another woman.

He only slipped his glasses back on when he heard someone join him at his table, half expecting to see Elliott or Shane across from him. When his eyes focused, Harvey saw it was Gus sitting beside him, giving him a knowing look.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?”

You wanted to scream as soon as you left the Stardrop, but were somehow able to resist your urges.

Not only did you feel awful about leaving Harvey at the saloon, but talking to him had only appeared to make your thoughts more jumbled. It all felt so sudden —in your mind, it was only yesterday he was the young boy you’d first met, sporting a face full of freckles and a pair of oversized glasses. Now, he was a grown man, talking about a woman who he seemed ready to marry.

Letting out a long sigh, you decided to take a longer route home, heading up to the old park you used to play in. You sat on one of the swings, listening to it creak as you became lost in your own thoughts. Why do I care about who Harvey’s in love with? Did he notice how I got jealous? Why am I getting jealous in the first place?

You were so lost in your maze of questions you didn’t realize someone had taken the swing beside you, jumping as they waved a hand in front of your face.

“Hey,” she said shortly, leaning forward to look at your face, “you’re the new farmer, aren’t you?” The girl’s blonde hair flowed across her shoulders perfectly, her brow perked as she looked at you with piercing blue eyes. Her lipstick glistened in the evening light.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not knowing what to make of the younger girl.

“Cool.” She noticeably looked you up and down, squinting as she evaluated your clothing. “Huh. You don’t dress half bad. Congrats, I don’t think I need to toss your entire wardrobe.”

“Um, thanks?”

“I’m Haley, by the way.” She looked away, beginning to swing carelessly. “You looked like you were thinking really hard about something just now.”

You sighed, gripping the swing tightly. “Yeah, it’s complicated.”

“Is it about a boy you like?”

You looked at Haley in surprise, though she simply got off the swing and began to walk away. She turned her head to meet your eyes for a moment, narrowing them.

“Just because I’m younger doesn’t mean I’m clueless, y’know,” she said sharply. Waving a hand back lazily, she continued her walk back toward town, a confident sway in her hips. “See you around.”

With that, you were left with the cool, spring breeze and the sound of the river running, wondering if the younger girl had better intuition than you did.

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breedtheseed · 5 months

Text

So I got this idea that I don’t think I’ll be able to finish but here is the brief description and the first chapter

Imagine Adam dies right but the trauma of how he died and his whole like keep him from remembering everything in his life so he is turned into Eden Adam who hasn’t experienced heart ache

So Lucifer locks away his memories after seeing them first hand, he wants to start over with Adam.

Sometime later he tells Adam he’s the reason Adam died because Charlie told him he had to it wasn’t right to keep lying to Adam and when Lucifer tells Adam.

Adam is too in love to care and hugs Lucifer holding him tight as he says “I don’t care I still want to be with you” (I was watching Hotel Transylvania) but Lucifer hugs him one last time before snapping all of Adam’s memories back for Adam

Chapter 1 (I still want to be with you)

“Luci?” Lucifer froze as he heard the voice, he quickly turned and say Adam. A gasp left his lungs as he was quickly embraced by the taller man, but something was different. The devil frowned as he slowly accepted the hug, he had just beat the shit out of Adam and watched the angel die how the fuck was the man even standing. Lucifer pulled away, pushing Adam away by his shoulders and looking up at the guy. The devil's eyes grew wide as he took in the man’s appearance, he wasn’t a demon but he didn’t look like his angel form either. He didn’t have his beautiful gold eyes anymore and he was smiling sweetly, almost longingly it made something stur uncomfortably in the kings stomach.

“Adam? Wait, you aren’t supposed to be here?” The devil said as he examined the person in front of him, his outfit was the same with angelic blood stains everywhere and yet Adam didn’t seem bothered.

“What are you doing?” Adam giggled while Lucifer turned him around, “wow what is this place? It looks awesome.” Adam cheered as he quickly walked away towards the hotel, Lucifer may have panicked when he saw Adam was heading towards the hotel. Quickly sprouting his wings and forcefully picking Adam up, maybe a little too hard because Adam yelped in pain.

“Sorry,” Lucifer said as he fixed how he held the man, getting a better look at Adam he really did seem different. It felt familiar.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked with concern as he let the fallen Angel hold him like a bride.

“This is wrong Adam you died,” Lucifer said, he had meant for it to be flat but there was a ping of sadness to it. “Do you remember anything?” Lucifer questioned as he gently set the man down. Adam held his chin and bit his lip while he thought, it was something Lucifer remembered the man would do back in Eden.

“Well I remember me and Lilith had a big fight. Is that something?” Well it was something that’s for sure, Lucifer did a quick scan of everything around them before opening a portal to his mansion.

“Yeah that is something come, follow me I need to check something” Lucifer said as he held out his hand, Adam was quick to take it and followed the king into the portal before it closed behind them. Adam scanned everything awe painted his face as he pulled Lucifer around the devils room. Despite the situation watching Adam look so amazed by everything made the devils heart flutter a bit. However Lucifer shook his head out of his thoughts and brought the man to the bed.

“Wow Luci I didn’t notice how pretty your eyes are” the comment made a blush form onto Lucifer’s pale cheeks.

“Thanks I always preferred your beautiful brown ones if I am being honest,” Lucifer gave a soft smile to Adam, he took note of how the other blushed and fidgeted. He really did look like he didn’t remember the last nine thousand years. “Anyways hold my hands,” Lucifer requested, he was hoping to see if he could access Adam’s memories, maybe even restore some if he could.

“Ok,” Adam said happily holding Lucifer’s hands waiting patiently for further instructions.

“Good now close your eyes and relax I’m going to test something,” Adam nodded and did as he was told, Lucifer then followed and allowed his consciousness to inhabit Adam’s mind. Sure enough Lucifer found some bits and pieces of Adam’s whole life both Heaven and earth.

Lots of emotions flowed through the devil as he rewatched Adam’s whole life, felt how the man was feeling. His joy of meeting Lucifer for the first time, the love he had felt when Lucifer made love to him in the garden, even the horrible sorrow Adam felt when Lucifer left him. It took everything for Lucifer to continue to watch how Adam broke and reformed into something harder something that kept him from breaking again. He watched as the first man lost more and more of himself, trying to run away from the pain he felt so long ago. Lucifer frowned when he got to the emotions the man felt during the fight, there were so many and above all there was heartbreak. The first man’s heart was breaking each time Lucifer poked at him each time he touched him, punched him. Till eventually he felt nothing, till everything was shrouded in black.

Lucifer sighed and mentally scratched his neck as he looked at memories, he could make them all disappear if he wanted. Let himself indulge in the Adam he had fallen for years ago, maybe even fix his mistakes. Fuck It, Lucifer thought as he snapped his fingers and locked Adam’s memories behind a angelic mind barrier. It was all he could think of before leaving Adam’s mind and returning back to himself. When he opened his eyes and looked down at Adam, the man was slightly snoring while sitting up. He must have been so tired.

Lucifer let out a sigh as he picked Adam up once more and placed him laying down in the bed, snapping his fingers he gave Adam a set of pajamas.

“What am I going to do,” the king groaned as he walked into the hallway, as if on que he got a call from Charlie. “Yes my little girl,” Lucifer tried to put his mask up as best he could.

“Where did you go?” Charlie questioned on the other side.

“Something came up, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow and let’s just say it’s something I can’t say over the phone.”

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frannyzooey · 6 months

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On The Green: 2

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: M (corpses, harvesting violence) will be E in later chapters ❤️

a/n: thank you endlessly to @the-scandalorian who lent me her big beautiful beta brain, to @bageldaddy who made me blush with pride and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed my Ezra nerves by checking this dialogue like the queen she is ❤️

Series Masterlist

—

You know he’s waiting for you to speak, but you…can’t.

He takes his helmet off, and you can see his features more clearly. His skin has a ruddy look to it, like it’s been days since he’s last bathed or eaten well, or gotten a decent sleep. He looks older, more weary without the reflective dome hiding the finer lines of his tired features – but still, no less intimidating.

He looks rougher, his sharp eyes darker and more assessing.

Your eyes make a slow circuit between his hand, which still loosely holds a weapon, and his dead partner.

There is no deal to be made here. Not for you, and you know it.

“Kevva waits, girl.” The sharp snap of his words brings your attention back to his face. He looks impatient. “You ready to talk about that deal?”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, trying hard to fight against the sinking feeling in your chest. “What do you want.”

It comes out more of a defeated statement than a question, and he studies you for a moment.

“To be perfectly candid, I am in need of transit.”

You stare at him blankly, and he sighs with impatience.

“I want your ship,” he states plainly. “However, I am not suggesting to leave you stranded if that’s what you’re thinking. As I find myself lacking….” He glances over at his dead partner for a moment. “I am generously proposing we join forces. Protection, for transport.”

“Protection?” you spit. “You gonna protect me as a partner like you did him?”

“He needed no protection, I can assure you that,” he huffs wryly. “But you?” He pauses in his speech, narrowing his gaze. “What is your plan here, anyway?”

Trying to appear like you have one, you steady your voice. “I’m here to dig.”

He laughs as if your statement is absurd. “I find myself disinclined to believe that, but let’s pretend for a moment that is the case. You dig. What then?”

“I’ll repair my ship and be on my way. Home, with something to sell when I get back.”

“And who is going to help you repair your ship?” he mocks. “You know how to do that too?” His eyes drift to your father’s lifeless form. “Seems your partner is out of commission. I think perhaps he was the mechanic?”

“He wasn’t my partner, I told you.” The corner he’s got you backed in displays plainly on your face. You shift your jaw, looking away. “I’ll find someone to help me. Someone –”

“A girl like you?” he interrupts, raising his eyebrows. “You wander into a camp of fringely mercs, raw, at the end of their tour, what happens? You appeal to their sympathies?” He shakes his head. “They have none. They are ruthless profiteers. You must have something to offer or they will find something to take from you.”

The emphasis he puts on the last few words makes his implication clear, and panic creeps into your limbs.

“We’re in the same trough, you and I. Can’t say I was pleased to find your mare all black and cockways as she was supposed to be my redemption as well,” he muses, looking around at the poor state of the pod. “But I know how to fix her up. I can help you.”

He seems sincere enough in his offer, but everything he’s done thus far shows you his supposed sincerity means absolutely nothing.

“I want someone else.” A childish statement, but the truth.

“Well I want a lot of things too, little bird.” He looks almost regretful for a moment, before leveling you with his gaze. ”Starting with your ship.”

Your mind still stuck on what he said about the other mercs on this planet, you wonder what’s stopping him from doing the same.

“They will find something to take from you.”

Will he?

You could try to go it alone, but your first fucking hour alone on this planet has been nightmare enough to dissuade you from that course of action. If he doesn’t kill you to get this ship, the next person will. If he found you, others will, too.

You think, buying yourself some time.

“It’s clear you don’t belong here, little bird. I’m your safest route home,” he argues. “That is the goal, right?”

You bring your eyes back to him, wary and he seems to recognize something in your expression. When he slowly steps forward like he’s approaching a wild animal, you scoot back.

“Hey,” his tone softens. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re no threat to me, a fragile little thing like you. Anyone else would have killed you outright by now, I promise you that. You have a functioning ship – a rarity in these parts. I can help you protect it.”

“Only because you want to use it,” you sneer, and the edge of his lips lift.

“Of course,” he replies. “I’m not foolish enough to offer my services for nothing. I promise you no harm if you promise me the same.”

“You killed your partner. Just now, right in front of me. What’s stopping you from doing the same to me?”

“I could have killed you a thousand different ways by now.” His voice slips into something lower, menacing yet truthful. “Like I said, you’re no threat to me. Besides, I think your ship would be better piloted by two, am I right?”

Seeing no way out, you deflate.

And nod.

“I need to hear you say it, little bird,” he tilts his head with a light scold.

You glare up at him. “Yes. I accept.”

“Excellent!” he says, clapping his hands together, the sound making you jump. “First things first. Let’s move these bodies.”

The bodies.

Forgetting all about your new deal with a murderer, your stomach drops at the reminder of moving your dad’s body.

“What’s your name, by the way?” The stranger grunts with exertion, lifting his partner’s feet to drag his body into a prone position. Crouching, he begins to pat the dead man’s pockets down.

He’s callous about it, perfunctory. Not gentle in the slightest which makes sense since the man is dead, but still, there is something about the deft way he’s going through everything he had on him that makes it known that this is not the first time he’s done this. Not by a long shot. You wonder if it’s just from his experience on this planet, or an indicator of something larger.

“Mine’s Ezra, if you were wondering.” He gives a teasing glance, making note of your rudeness.

When you don’t offer it, he merely shrugs. “S’okay if you don’t wanna tell me. I understand your apprehension. But I’ll have to call you something.” He seems to ponder for a moment, placing loose items he’s deemed useful in a pile by the man’s hip. “Since you came down from out of the sky, I would say “Birdie” is a suitable choice.”

You pull a face he doesn’t see, and then he’s moving the belongings to the side, making a clear path to the door of the pod. When his eyes shift to rest on your dad’s body, a sudden urge flares within you to stop him.

“He got anything useful on him?” Ezra’s chin jerks towards it.

On instinct, you follow his gaze, immediately regretting it. You turn away in revulsion, the pooled blood a dark, congealed mass that sticks in your vision. Closing your eyes, you shake your head with a tight movement. “I don’t think he had anything on him besides his, uh…drops. Everything else is here in the pod.”

If he wonders what you mean by “drops,” he doesn’t ask. Instead, he approaches the body and glancing back, frowns at your hesitant expression.

“Look. You don’t—” he sighs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His voice lowers. “I’ll need your help with the big guy, but I can do this one by myself.”

“No,” you protest, forcing yourself to move forward. You can still taste bile, sharp on your tongue. “I should be the one—”

He puts his hand on your arm, shaking his head. “No,” he says kindly, but firm. “You shouldn’t be. A girl shouldn’t have to put her own father in the ground.” He steps around you gently. “Tell you what. Why don’t you head outside and keep watch, little bird. Let me know if you see anyone coming. Make no mistake, there will be scavengers looking for the same opportunity I was, and we’ve got to protect our only means of escaping this planet.”

He gathers your helmet to place in your hands, checking your filters are connected and charged.

In your hurry to get out of the pod and away from the body, you’re already sealing your helmet into place when he snatches the thrower off the floor.

“Hey,” he calls out sharply, just as you’re about to step out of the hatch. He thrusts the weapon towards you. “Don’t forget your thrower. Armed. Always armed here. Understood?” His gaze holds yours in weighted significance.

You nod, taking it from his outstretched hand. “Okay.”

Opening the hatch, you step outside for the first time.

Everything is green. The brush, the trees, the sky–all varying shades of the color. Dust floats through the air; aimless, toxic, suffocating. You wonder how long you would last if you took your helmet off. Studying the lush, towering trees, your eyes follow the paths of thick vines that both climb up the trunks and spill over the dark soil, coming to rest on the soft dirt that your boots sink into. You lift your foot and the imprint you leave behind is as clear as the two sets that lead from the edge of the forest to your pod.

The footprints circle the pod, and your stomach lurches at the thought that they were circling without you even knowing.

Resolutely keeping your back towards the ramp, you tighten your grip on your thrower and use the moment to take stock of your situation. Your father told you a couple of things about this planet: the air is toxic, the population is non-existent, and the main reason anyone comes is for the aurelac. An amber colored gem found within the bowels of pit sites, the price it can fetch is significant. His drops clutched tightly in his hand, he told you of a neglected site filled with treasure—a rumor, the Queen’s Lair–his eyes wild and clouded with liquid that made them shine with foolish hope.

That’s it, though. No map left behind, no coordinates. No solid confirmation it even exists. He only brought you along because it would be dangerous to leave you completely orphaned for however long it took him, and to take advantage of your (limited) skills as a co-pilot.

When you hear a heavy slide and a grunt behind you, you keep your eyes on the forest, scanning the trees.

Nothing to offer the man who has offered you partnership, you wonder how long it’s going to take him to figure out you’re of no value. Completely useless, better off dead and out of the way. Your mind scrambles for leverage, and you’re still thinking when you feel a tap on the shoulder.

Swinging around, you point your thrower – directly at Ezra’s chest.

His hands fly up in surrender.

“Steady now. It’s just me.”

He must have connected your comlinks because you can hear his words, low and slightly modulated through your helmet. Lowering your weapon and assuming he’s going to take it from you, you offer it up, but he waves it away, resting his hand on a pistol strapped to his hip.

“Good to see you’re quick on the draw,” he smirks. He jerks his head towards the pod. “I need your help with the other one now.”

You glance over his shoulder towards the woods, trying to find a sign of your father’s body and his voice snaps your attention back to him.

“Hey. Don’t…” he pauses. “Don’t. Say your goodbyes to the Green, girl, but don’t go lookin’. You don’t need to see that anymore.”

Surprised by the consideration in his statement, you follow him up the ramp. Inside the pod, he lifts under his former partner's arms.

“Grab the feet – go ahead and push, while I pull.”

It takes ages getting the massive, limp body down and out, but eventually it’s rolled down the ramp with a thud. Ezra’s breathing sounds loud, and he takes a moment to catch his breath.

“What you want to do is cover the body with rocks. Try to hide it, so as to not attract any attention. The locals, they –” he grunts, dragging the man towards the brush, “—they leave bodies out in the open, as part of their ritual to honor the memory but I think it’s rather–” he shoves the man down a slope, letting gravity do the work for him, “uncouth.”

Slowly descending down the slant of dirt, you follow behind him. Not used to an explanation following orders, you listen closely to his words. He gives you more context for his decisions than your father ever did, and you pocket every piece of information, eager for it all. Anything to help your survival in this place.

With both your heads bent in task, he breaks the silence after a few moments. “What was your father here to harvest?”

Lifting a rock from the ground, you toss it in the general direction of the body. “Gems.”

Ezra huffs a laugh. “Most gems are long gone. Discovered and harvested during the rush.” He looks over at you from the corner of his eye. “Got any information on where he was hoping to find unfound riches?”

“If most gems have been harvested, what are you doing here?”

He laughs in delight. “Rapport, how I’ve missed it.”

You take note of the way he side steps your question. “He didn’t tell me.”

“What did he tell you about this place?”

Easy to talk to, charming and affable, you can see how easily he would wheedle information out of others. Unsure how much you should really be confiding in him, you decide less is better for now.

“He didn’t tell me anything. Just that we were going to come here to dig – or rather, he was.”

“Nothing?” he asks, surprised. “He led you here, unprepared?”

You say nothing, and his expression turns more solemn. He shakes his head. “Foolish, keeping you in the dark like that. My own partner was more of a utility. Seems like your father treated you the same way.”

His statement hurts, though you try not to let it show. You shrug instead, watching your steps as you pick through the rocks.

He gives you time to reply, and when you offer nothing up, he continues. “Did you ever want to learn how to dig? Harvest gems?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been asked that question, and when you look up at him to find him looking at the ground, you can hear the smile he has on his face through the commlink when you don’t answer. He continues, “I stumped you, didn’t I.”

“I don’t…” you flounder. You’ve always had a distaste for the profession, spending your life around the seedy people who do it. However, it seems rude to say that outright to his face. “I’ve never really thought about it. It would be useful to learn, I guess.”

“Maybe,” he says. “Depends on what you want from this life. It’s a big world out there, Birdie. If you could have your pick, what would you do?”

“Go home.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and though it’s such a small thing to ask in such an endless universe, he just nods like he understands.

–

The bodies taken care of, he leads you back to the pod and tells you to wait there for him. He’s got a camp close by – a tent, filled with his belongings – and while he’s gone collecting it, you clean the disorganized mess inside the pod.

Go home. You don’t even know why you said that, there isn’t much of a home to go home to. This pod has been more of a home than anything else has; the only constant in your transient life. What you meant was some place that felt like a home. A comforting place, where you felt safe and wanted and cared for. The place itself didn’t really matter, more the feeling it represented. You had yet to find it, but you knew it wasn’t here.

The metal cabinets that line the walls had burst open upon impact, so you take your time methodically putting everything right. Medical supplies, vac packs of food, your father’s harvesting tools. His case, with his initials stamped on it. His supply of chemicals, his various scalpels unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. You snap them carefully back into their case, and put them away.

Then your things: your bedding, your sparse collection of clothing, your journal. Wrapping the bound book in a shirt, you tuck it into your pillowcase, hiding it. Your headphones appear undamaged, and you test them with a couple of the cassettes that lay scattered across the floor. The music flows through them uninterrupted, and for the first time today, you feel a small sliver of relief.

You find his drops underneath his chair.

The tiny brown vial with the stopper you’ve seen him hover above his eye a million times, you aren’t ready for the resentment and rage you feel as you hold it in your palm. You can’t remember a time when your father didn’t have them on him. Slices of time flash through your mind: the sight of his back as he left you for days on end, the slow, syrupy drag of his words when he mumbled after putting the drops in, the feverish need in his eyes as he slipped the bottle from his pocket to calm the trembling in his hands – right before an emergency sensor went off in the pod and everything went to hell.

The urge to crush it underneath your boot or take it outside and smash it against a tree flares bright, and a scream builds at the base of your throat.

In your mind, you let it out. In real life, you tuck the bottle into a cabinet and shut the door.

A signal agreed upon when he left, you know Ezra is back when he knocks rhythmically before entering. Busy scrubbing the dash clean, you’re going over the blood spots for the third time. You can’t see them anymore, but you still feel them there.

“Got everything,” he states, removing his helmet. Tossing it on the ground, he rakes his fingers through his sweat damp curls with a sigh. “Quite the load to carry back. I’ll need space within your vessel to store my things.”

He steps towards a cabinet, and you stand, alarmed.

“Wait. You’re staying in here? With me? I thought you said you have a tent.”

He ignores the way your voice gets higher and tighter with every word, opening a door to peer inside. “I do, but it would be foolish to separate. If you’re opposed to discomfort, then you never had any business being on the Green, girl.”

It wasn’t my choice, you want to scream at him, but you hold your tongue.

“Can’t you sleep outside in front of the hatch? To make sure no one gets in?”

He shakes his head, opening another cabinet. He rifles through your medical supplies, impressed. “This beauty really is fully stocked, isn’t she? No wonder I thought she’d be my redemption. Riches beyond belief hidden within her unassuming depths.”

He’s murmuring more to himself than anyone, and annoyance begins to simmer at the careless way he’s putting your freshly organized things back. You’re just about to repeat yourself when he closes the door and turns to you.

“It won’t do to sleep outside. I need to protect this pod just as much as I need to watch over you.”

He opens another cabinet, and your cassettes spill out with a slide.

“What are these?” he asks, already bending to pick one up.

“Don’t worry about it.” Snatching it from his hand, you kneel down to gather them up. Huffing with frustration, you cram them back into their storage and shut the door quickly.

He watches it all, his jaw shifting in thought.

“Look,” he ventures. “I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s gonna be a long couple of months if you don’t trust me.”

You say nothing, and he sighs.

“A good partnership is only made so by candid discourse.”

He’s right. You know he’s right, and yet you don’t have it in you to acknowledge it out loud. How he expects you trust him you truly don’t know, and yet in the hours since you’ve met him, he has shown you kindness. A partnership offer when you don’t deserve it, protection against his former partner, burying your father for you. Whether that kindness is real or a ruse to have you lower your defenses, you don’t know.

Either way, you don’t really have a choice.

“There are a couple of spare storage bins over there,” you gesture at the corner, defeated. “You can put your things in there.”

“My sincerest thanks,” he replies with a slip of sarcasm, and turning back to your cleaning, you roll your eyes.

–

“I need to protect this pod just as much as I need to watch over you.”

The words repeat on a loop in your mind; your body shifting on the stiff cot. His presence in the small space feels foreign, your body hyper aware of it. You’ve never slept in this pod with anyone but your father.

Your father.

You wait for the grief to come, but when it doesn’t, you blame shock. The alternative would be to think about how you feel nothing, which, what kind of a daughter loses her father and feels nothing? Tendrils of shame seep through your thoughts, and you roll away from Ezra as if he can see into your mind. Your back facing him, you try to shut him out, focusing instead on the moon outside the window.

It’s full, high and clear above the horizon, suspended in the inky sky. Your eyes study the craters carved into the surface, and you take slow and steady breaths out, mimicking sleep. You wish you could slip your headphones on and drown out the tension that fills the small space, but you don’t want to leave yourself vulnerable like that.

You hear him shuffle behind you, and your shoulders brace themselves with tension – but when he doesn’t make any other sound, you go back to watching the floating dust.

Isolated, alone. No different than any of the other thousands of nights you’ve spent staring out at the moon while waiting for your father to come home. The weight of your situation compresses the air in your lungs, and you feel the sharp, hot sting of tears behind your eyes. Squeezing them shut, you will them away.

You won’t cry in here with him. You won’t.

Both resentfully frustrated with his presence and deep down, grateful for it, you cross your arms tight across your chest and squeeze. Pouring all your emotions into the pocket of your chest, you squeeze and you squeeze, soothing yourself.

He shuffles around quietly behind you, getting comfortable on his own cot and you’re thinking it’s going to be a long night just before the weight of the day presses upon your eyelids.

They flutter shut, and you fall into a dreamless sleep.

#ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader

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levihanskid · 2 months

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‘Till the End of the Line: Bakugo Katsuki’s Twin AU chapter 2

Ch1 ao3 link wattpad link i'm sorry this took so long, vet school is killing me ;-; this chapter has been sitting in my drafts for so long but the latest episode made me finally do it

The following months have been extensive for both Katsuki and Mitsuko. They tried to be consistent with their morning runs, but there were times where one or both of them would sleep in. Mostly Mitsuko, which pissed her twin a lot. After school, they would spend an hour improving their physical condition and stamina, and another hour training with their quirks. All while trying to keep up with their studies and reviewing for the entrance exam.

Ten months had passed, and the twins are now walking towards the enormous gates of UA High School. They took the written exam a few weeks ago, which was easier than they expected. Today is the day that the twins are anticipating the most, the practical exam. Mitsuko felt a mix of emotions as she looked up the school’s crest on top of the gate. She’s nervous, but at the same time she’s excited and can’t wait to put her training to use.

As they entered the school grounds, a familiar curly green hair caught her eyes. “Hey look, it’s your bff,” she nudged her brother.

From a few feet away, Midoriya Izuku stood at the middle in deep thought. Probably freaking out on the inside.

“Out of the way Deku!” Katsuki yelled.

“Kacchan! Micchan!” Izuku called in surprise.

Mitsuko visibly cringed at the nickname he used to address her and eyed the boy. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Move it! Or I’ll kill you!” her brother spat, unaffected by the childish nickname.

The boy immediately stepped out of the way and stuttered. “G-good morning! Let’s uh— let’s do our best!”

The twins didn’t say anything back, but she gave him a small smile before continuing to walk to the building.

“Isn’t that Bakugo? From the Sludge Villain Incident?”

“Yeah. And that’s the girl from the video. They’re twins aren’t they?”

Mitsuko is used to people murmuring about them, given that her brother is a big show off. This isn’t the first time they had people talking about something that one of them did, so she chose to ignore the whispers and looked ahead.

Inside the auditorium, they were greeted by the Voice Hero, Present mic. Mitsuko sat next to her brother, as well as Izuku who chose to be seated next to them and is currently fan boying over the pro hero at the podium. Katsuki tried telling him to shut up, but the boy kept muttering to himself and Mitsuko had to lean away from his direction to avoid getting distracted.

“As the application says, you’ll be participating in a ten minute battle in a mock city. Get ready! After this, you will head to your assigned battle center.”

She looked at her examination card, and then glanced over her brother’s.

“In other words, they’re not letting friends work together, huh?”

“You’re right,” Izuku agreed, his eyes glued to the blonde boy’s card. “We have consecutive numbers, but different centers.”

“Don’t look, want to die?” Katsuki threatened. “Tch. Now I can’t crush you, damn it.”

His last words made the curly boy move away a bit and turn his attention back to the stage.

“Makes sense,” Mitsuko whispered, her focus still on her card which displayed a letter C while her brother got A. “The exam is meant to test our individual abilities. They wouldn’t want us to tag-team.”

Present Mic continued his presentation. He went on to inform them about the types of mock villains they will be facing and that each type represents 1, 2, and 3 points each. They were also told about the gimmick villain that they’re supposed to run away from since it’s just there to cause trouble and not give points.

She played with her fingers as she tried to listen, making sure she knows every detail.

“Stop fidgeting,” her brother snapped. “It’s annoying. Why are nervous anyway?”

“I don’t know. It’s a mix between excitement and anxiety. And this orientation is taking so long,” she replied, intertwining her fingers to keep them steady.

“You’re right. We’ve heard enough, I can’t wait to crush those bots. Think you can get a hundred points?” her twin asked, still looking ahead. Although it’s obvious that he’s also starting to get restless.

“A hundred might be impossible, considering the time limit, the competition, and the fact that we won’t have any idea where the villains would be.”

“I can make it possible,” he brother scoffed. “And I’ll make sure to get the first spot.”

“Is that a challenge?” she raised a brow. “Whoever gets less points have to do the other’s chores for two weeks, then.”

Katsuki grinned at the raised stake. “Deal. Let’s show these extras how it’s done.”

***

Mitsuko tried containing her loud heartbeats as she stood before the door where the exam is going to take place. After the orientation, they were directed to change out of their middle school uniforms and get on the bus that would take them to their respective battle centers. She had changed into a white racerback tank top and some sweat pants.

The format of the test is very fortunate for her, since her quirk can easily be utilized. She imagined how those with quirks that only works to people would do against robots.

“Let’s do our best!” she heard an excited voice. Mitsuko looked over her shoulder to see a girl with pink hair and pink skin talking to the people around her with no tinge of awkwardness. They locked eyes for a moment.

“Huh? Why do you look familiar?” the girl looked at her with a hint of recognition.

Before she could respond, the voice of the hero Present Mic echoed through the speakers.

“Start! What are waiting for? Real fights don’t have countdowns!”

Mitsuko didn’t waste any second and ran inside the training grounds, using her quirk to propel herself forward.

She saw a couple of number 1 and 2 robots straight ahead. Without any hesitation, she pointed her palms toward them and willed her quirk out. Her forearms glowed in bright white-yellow color. The light traveled onto her hands into her palms before blasting to the direction of the robots. They exploded with the contact, leaving electric sparks and smokes.

“Nice quirk ‘ya got there,” a voice from behind commented. Mitsuko whirled around and saw a boy approaching her. He’s got blonde hair and gray eyes, but what caught her attention (in a bad way) was the annoying smug face that he has.

She didn’t reply, so the boy continued. “Must be nice having a quirk so flashy, huh?”

He tapped her on the shoulder, and a look of recognition flashed across his face for a second, before being replaced with a smirk. “Weren’t you that girl from the video? Didn’t expect you to be here after all that shit talking to those heroes.”

The smirk was one thing, but his words made Mitsuko’s blood boil. Her red pupils dilated and her right eyebrow raised as she tried to stop herself from blinding the guy. She shouldn’t be distracted right now.

Another batch of robots showed up, and she thanked the heavens for giving her an excuse to walk away from where she’s currently standing.

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for a chitchat,” she said in a monotone voice, swatting the guy’s hand away from her shoulder.

She ran to destroy the robots, but before she could stretch her hands out, quick flashes of light reached and blasted them into pieces. No, those were not just lights, they look too much like hers.

She looked back to where the lights came from, confusion clearly visible from her face.

“Whoops! Sorry for stealing points from ‘ya, but I gotta do what I gotta do, don’t ‘ya think?” it was the same blonde guy, still wearing his irritating smirk. He turned on his heel and began walking away. “I’ll be having this flashy quirk for a while, better make use of it!”

Those words confused her even more. Did he just get her quirk?

She shook her head and put her focus back on the exam. Shit. Was he trying to stall me for some reason?

The exam just started, but she could’ve gotten more points if she wasn’t standing around having a one sided conversation with that guy. She can’t afford to waste more time.

She flew around the grounds looking for more targets, blasting her quirk backwards to levitate and propel herself faster. Taking down every robot she encounters along the way as quickly as she could.

She was at 23 points, if she counted correctly, when she reached the area where a lot of the kids are gathered. Present Mic’s voice echoed through the speakers again.

“We have reached the half time!! Five minutes left before the exam ends!!!”

She saw a bunch of robots with different points surrounding the students. More people means more robots to see them as targets. Just as she figured.

Mitsuko jumped over, smirking in satisfaction as she shot her quirk out at every single robot within her sight while using her flexibility and agility to maneuver herself.

The kids stared at her in awe. “What an awesome quirk she’s got.”

“Isn’t she the girl from that one video?”

“Hey! Leave some points for us!” one of them shouted out.

She continued gathering points, keeping herself airborne using her quirk and sometimes stepping on the robots to use them to keep her momentum. She kept going, faster and quicker, not letting the others steal points from her again.

By the time her feet touched the ground, all of the robots around the area were already blown into bits. Mitsuko wiped the sweat from her forehead and tightened her ponytail. She also noticed her arms glowing a bit. She must’ve used up the stored energy in her body since it’s currently absorbing sunlight again.

“You are so cool!! Those movements were amazing! You look like you could be a great dancer!” the same pink girl ran to her with enthusiasm. Mitsuko just noticed a pair of horns protruding out from her pink curly locks.

“I don’t dance,” she replied, looking around for more robots to destroy. She realized she lost count of her points after her exhibition earlier.

“Really? You should try! The way you’re moving while fighting is awesome!”

“I came here to be a hero, not a dancer,” Mitsuko cut the girls’ blabbering. “Sorry, but I really don’t have the time to–“

The ground shook, and a loud grumbling mechanical sound cut her last sentence. She looked up to see a huge robot approaching. It’s the zero point they were supposed to run away from.

Anyone with no balls would run away from that thing, all right. She thought to herself.

“Let’s go! That’s a no-pointer!” the pink girl pulled the back of her top.

Before they could take a step back however, the robot continued to stroll through the streets, destroying the buildings and causing debris to fall down.

Talk about keeping the damage to a minimum!

People began to scatter in a panic. Everyone was pushing trying to run away.

A huge piece of the building’s wall caught Mitsuko’s attention. It was plummeting into the direction of the students, specifically the pink girl. Mitsuko didn’t even realize that the girl started running off. The girl was looking over her left shoulder, seemingly trying to call Mitsuko to join the retreat. While the debris was coming from her right side, a complete blind spot.

She hasn’t trained much to target moving objects, not to mention fast ones. So she decided not to try and shoot it while it’s falling down.

Her next action was caused by the heat of the moment. It was a crazy idea, but she prayed it would work.

Mitsuko ran towards the girl faster than the rock. When she reached her, she pushed the girl out of the way and produced the strongest energy barrier she could muster. It was a move she’s been improving for the past year. It worked against her brother’s attacks, so she’s hoping that it’ll work against the huge piece of rock.

It did. Sort of.

She was able to stop the debris without her barrier faltering, but its weight and momentum was too heavy. She couldn’t free a hand to blast the rock into pieces. Now she’s stuck holding both her hands up to maintain the barrier.

She heard the pink girl grunt from behind her, and a spray of acid splashed onto the lower part of the rock causing it to move a little. In that given moment, Mitsuko quickly released her barrier and used her quirk again to make the rock explode.

The debris was casting a shadow over her so unlike before, her arms seemed to glow brighter. The rock blew up into pieces, but her body continued to glow a little as it absorbed sunlight to compensate for the energy she just lost.

Mitsuko turned around, panting as bits of sweat began forming on her forehead. She saw the girl trying to stand on her feet, but she couldn’t seem to put weight on her left foot.

“Can you run?” Mitsuko asked.

“No, I think I sprained my ankle from falling down earlier. Why’d you have to push me so hard anyway?!” the girl exclaimed.

“Huh!?” Mitsuko’s brows furrowed. “How is that my fault?! I just saved your ass!”

They didn’t have more time to argue, because the zero-point robot was nearing their position. As much as she hated it, Mitsuko took the girl’s arm over her shoulder and began moving. The people had thinned out, the other examinees must’ve managed to run off far from where they were.

Great. That just made their situation worse, because now the only targets the robot has was the two of them. And it’s currently aiming its enormous metal hand to swat them like little flies.

Despite trying to convince herself that UA wouldn’t allow anyone to get killed for an entrance exam, Mitsuko’s wracking nerves still got the best of her.

With gritted teeth, she let go of the girl’s arms, “Take cover!” she yelled and turned around to face the giant villain. She raised her arms, still glowing from the absorption, and waited for the perfect time to blast. But before that perfect time came, she felt a sudden smack behind her head.

Anger and confusion took over her as she tried to process what just happened. Mitsuko looked around with furrowed brows and saw a guy walking past her.

The annoying blonde kid from earlier stood in front of her and threw an energy blast towards the hands of the robot. Just like their first encounter, his blast looked so much like her quirk. The villain stopped, and the boy snickered before looking back at her. “I never planned to go after the gimmick, but I thought you needed saving,” he said in an arrogant voice which made Mitsuko’s mind ring in irritation.

“YOU FUCKING COPYCAT!” she began stomping towards him.

“Oh, you finally figured it out? You’re welcome, although that’s not a very nice nickna—“

“ARE YOU STUPID?! THAT ATTACK WAS SO WEAK IT WON’T EVEN MAKE A SCRATCH!”

There was a loud metallic creaking sound. Mitsuko looked up, the smokes are gone so she could clearly see how right she was. The robot is still standing, not even a dent could be seen in its huge hands that is now coming down to them faster than before.

She muttered a curse before running to the right side, leaving the other two frozen in their place. When she reached the right spot, she raised her arms once again and acted as fast as she could.

She willed her quirk out, this time much stronger and concentrated than before, making her entire arms glow instead of just her forearms. The light traveled through her hands and palms before shooting out, her legs almost giving up from the shot's recoil. It hit the robot’s elbow, just as she planned. Her attack was powerful enough to pierce through its armor and cut its forearm off, stopping it from hitting the other kids.

Panting, Mitsuko then just realized that she lost track of both the time and her points. She was about to run to gather more points when Present Mic’s voice echoed once again.

“TIME’S UP!”

“Dammit!”

#bakugo twin sister #bakugo twins #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #twins au #bakugo sister!au #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #ao3 fanfic

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starhvney · 5 months

Text

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓: 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐒

𝐂𝐖: none? very wholesome today.

𝐀/𝐍: um.. so this chapter originally was supposed to be cool moms and a dinner... but now it's just cool moms because i realized i was nearing 7k works and the dinner hadn't even started lmao. anyways enjoy this chapter it's super cute

𝐖𝐂: 6,400 +

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

ivy didn’t even glance your way as you walked into homeroom the next day, her hair covering her bruised cheek and head turned sharply away from you. a few people mentioned the slight splotch of purple against her porcelain skin, but it seemed everyone was under the impression that she had just fallen and injured herself.

you’re surprised that she didn’t try to frame you for her injury, especially since you came to school the next day with not even a red mark against your skin. you suppose she really wanted garroth to be under the impression she was a sweet girl who would never get in a fight.

oh, please.

it’s not like she had to try extra hard to do so, with how trusting and kind the school’s “prince charming” was.

to add on to your suspicions, ivy proceeded to not bother you for the rest of the week. it was something that was both relieving and incredibly anxiety-inducing. was she really done messing with you? or was she planning something else?

your thoughts are interrupted as you nearly collide with a meif’wa girl who was stationed around the corner and peeking from behind some lockers at the display in front of her. aphmau and a familiar-looking boy argued in the hall, just outside of the werewolf classroom.

the meif’wa girl turns to you, her round eyes holding a brilliant shade of gold and pale cheeks colored a lovely shade of pink. a pink that similarly matched her straight hair that framed her round cheeks and curled at the ends of her shoulders. with her perfectly groomed black tail and ears and the cute bows she used to accessorize, she looked like an adorable porcelain doll.

“excuse me!” she muffles an apology behind the hand she raised to her mouth, her voice mousey and soft.

“oh, that’s okay! i was sidetracked,” you glance back at your friend and the boy who towered over her. “um… what are you doing?”

“well, i always end up passing by those two after my classes are over, and i’m starting to think maybe they like each other without realizing.” she blinks up at you, her smile particularly cheeky and feline. “i want to see if my ship sets sail.”

“your…ship?” you trail questionably, frowning at aphmau’s peeved expression and the guy's deep frown on his scratched and bandaged face.

was this the rude classmate from werewolf studies that aphmau had mentioned before?

“yeah, wouldn’t the enemies to lovers be cute?! and he’s the new “bad boy” junior. i love playing cupid in the school,” she giggles from behind her hand.

you blink, watching as the rather scary-looking boy rolls his eyes, looking totally fed up as aphmau holds her hands on her hips.

“uhh… yeah. nice to meet you by the way,” you give her your name, politely waiting for her to respond as you slowly make your way towards the two.

“oh! it’s… nana.”

“i’ll catch you around sometime,” you wave, before quickly shuffling right up to the tense duo.

man, he is tall. his skin was a tanned olive color, with cuts and bandages littered across his face. ink-black hair hung messily in front of his equally dark eyes and thick brows.

“you ready to go home, aph?” you ask, though you kept your eyes trained directly on deep brown ones.

you recall why you thought he was familiar now, he was the one who unintentionally photobombed your first-day selfie with aphmau and bumped into her without apologizing.

she lets out an irritated huff of air, muttering a “yes” before marching down the hall before you.

you stare at the boy a second longer, before turning away and stretching out your stride to catch up to aphmau. the two of you make your way out of the doors, walking down the street in silence.

“…so?” you start, raising an eyebrow and carefully lacing your hands behind your back.

“i confronted him on why he teases me and is rude to me for no reason and he just said “i was annoying”,” she uses air quotes as she mocks his choice of words. “so i got mad and said he was a jerk and no one would want to be friends with him if he acts like that to people who are just trying to be nice.”

you roll your eyes.

“good. if you act like that all your life you’ll end up sad and alone.”

“that’s what i said!”

when you make it home, your mom is once again eagerly awaiting to tell you something, still in her work clothes as she lingers near the entryway.

“so! we happened to move closer to some other family friends that were also friends with the salomes, and we’re going to meet them all at the park tomorrow afternoon.” she announces to you as you enter the kitchen, clasping her hands together excitedly. “there’s three boys around your age, too!”

“uh, what? why am i just now finding this out?”

“oh don’t worry so much, i’m gonna be there and they’re sweet kids. at least they should be.”

you huff, “alright then.”

☆

you and your mom enter the park from a different side than when you came last time, the trees are less dense, and there’s lots of open space to run around. nearby is a pretty and intricate fountain, with a sculpture of the matron on top. you glance away from it, eyes immediately landing on aphmau and then sylvanna.

sylvanna smiles warmly, approaching mom and giving her a hug. “it’s good to see you again, girl!”

“i know! it’s so good to see you!”

aphmau and you glance at each other a bit awkwardly, crossing your arms as your mothers once again hit it off.

“and oh, mija! you look so cute today, que linda!” her mom’s warm brown eyes land on you.

“thank you-“

“yes, of course! well, why don’t you two talk while we catch up and wait for zianna? when we older ladies go jogging together you two can play with her kids!”

before you can say anything else, the two walk a short distance away, already chatting up a storm with wide eyes and…seriously intense expressions.

“uh, whose kids? what?” aphmau exasperatedly asks to no reply.

you look over to aph as she holds her hands out in annoyed confusion. her hair is held back by a red headband that matches her outfit: red sneakers along with a red square-neck tank top that was loosely tucked into a denim skirt.

you shrug at the girl, used to not being told what was happening until the last possible moment.

“uh… good to see you, i like your outfit?” you start awkwardly.

“…thank you.” she says, looking down at her attire as if she had forgotten what she wore today.

you walk over to a bench that rests under a large and twisted tree. the afternoon sun beats down on the pavement and reflects onto your faces despite taking refuge under the leaves, causing the two of you to squint at each other. the heat from the summer had finally begun to leave, thankfully, and a warm breeze rustled some of the trees, sending some more leaves onto the ground's growing collection.

aphmau sighs, leaning back as she gazes around at the park.

“ugh, at least i’m with you,” she mutters. “are we gonna have to babysit some five-year-old brats?”

“oh, no actually i don’t think-“

“hey, girlfriends!” a bright and cheery voice interrupts your conversation.

you turn to see a beautiful woman with warm green eyes and black hair tied back into a styled ponytail. she was definitely a grown woman, but her blue—and slightly revealing—jogger set and trendy gold jewelry told a different story.

“ah! wassup girl!” sylvanna calls out from behind you, both her and mom jogging up to the woman who you now assume is the third mother in this get-together.

“oh you two, it’s been too long,” the black-haired woman greets. “and you both are still lookin’ fine!”

“zianna, it’s so good to see you!”

“what’s with the slang?” you lean over and mutter to aphmau, who rolls her eyes.

“that must be where my mom learned it from, it’s been nonstop with her, too.”

suddenly the cheery voice is closer.

“oh! and look at you two! you two became so beautiful, like little dolls! lookin’ just like your pretty mamas! you all are going to have so much fun together!”

“oh, um thank you, it’s nice to meet you-“ you start.

“it’s nice to meet you! wait… you ‘all’? great. so we’re babysitting multiple brats.”

you turn to glance at aphmau warily. now why would you say that…

“well, i wouldn’t exactly call us brats.” a familiar deep and smooth voice causes you to jump as you spin back around towards the source.

garroth stands tall as usual, today wearing a dark teal carhartt jacket over a white tee and some loose tan cargo pants and white sneakers to pair. his fluffy hair is tucked under a baseball hat with the pdh emblem and a small captain embroidered along the side. behind him were two slightly shorter boys, their faces filled with a tad more youth based on the baby fat that still clung to their cheeks.

one had a lovely shade of chocolatey brown hair and shared the same warm green eyes as their mother. he had a kind, friendly face, one of childish friendliness and openness that hadn’t been squandered by teenage years.

the other was… starkly different from the others. straight, dark black hair covered the right side of his face, hiding the rest of the rather cute freckles that splayed across his cheeks and nose. his strikingly icy blue eyes and pale—almost nearly translucent looking—skin contrasted against the rest of his dark outfit and features. he looked the least athletic out of the other two, his loose hoodie swallowing and hiding what looked like a thin and gangly frame underneath.

“wha- i- garroth?” aphmau stutters out, her jaw dropping in complete shock. “what are you doing here?”

“huh. so you’re the other kids. that’s funny.” i smile. “who would’ve thought our moms were friends?”

“i… oh…” aphmau finally catches on, her thin eyebrows raising in surprise.

an annoyed sigh comes from the black-haired kid, who you can now safely assume is garroth’s brother. “so, these are the brats we have to babysit?”

you wrinkle your nose and narrow your eyes at his complaint. well, aren’t you just a ball of sunshine?

“babysit?” you echo.

he doesn't seem older than you. in fact it would be safe to assume he was younger considering the higher, nasally, middle-schooler voice he had.

“hey, not-alone buddy!” the other brother cheeses in aphmau’s direction, baby cheeks squishing against his smile and crinkling his eyes.

“mom, are you kidding me? these guys also go to my school!” aphmau looks back at her mother.

“oh, how did we not talk about that?” your mom giggles, the other ladies laughing along with her.

“i had no idea your boys went to the same school as my daughter!”

“oh, samesies! that’s so adorable!” zianna cheers. as she smiles i can see where that brown-haired boy got his energetic grin from.

“i guess that means we have a lot to catch up on. ready for our jog?”

“yep! ok, kids, have fun together!” zianna turns to the emo brother. “remember, zuzu, i want you to try at least one sport with your brothers and new friends while you’re here at the park! we need to toughen you up, but not so much that you aren’t so tough for mommy kisses!”

under the black hair, you can see his pale skin turn to a bright red in embarrassment.

“mom! stop embarrassing me!” he complains. his voice has a slight whine to it.

“i love you too, zuzu! you kids play nice!” she airily smiles and waves, already beginning to walk backward from us, to which your and aphmau’s moms follow.

“be good! text me if there’s an emergency!” your mom waves to you, seemingly excited about the meetup despite being much more mellow than the other two women.

you smile and wave to her before holding a thumbs up. “kay!”

“do you still listen to beyoncé, zianna?”

“are you kidding me? i brought this portable speaker so we could listen to her while we run! it’s gonna be the bomb dot com!”

“word, yo!”

…

and they’re gone.

“oh wow.” the youngest boy sighs.

“can mom get any more embarrassing?”

“hm. so that’s where my mom learned to talk like that. i see.” aphmau says, raising her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes in accusation.

“uhh, i’m pretty sure your mom rubbed off on our mom.” garroth pipes in.

“more than likely they both rubbed off on each other and it just started escalating.”

“hey, garroth!” you finally greet, gathering your bearings and waving to the tall boy.

his eyebrows raise and his eyes soften to the look of an adorable puppy dog. he gives a small smile, back waving at you and chirping your name in greeting. you turn to look at garroth’s brothers.

“ah, i haven’t met you two yet,” you introduce yourself. “it’s nice to meet you two.”

“yeah, whatever. now we’re stuck in this stupid park in the stupid sun.” the dark-haired boy slinks away from you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you have to stop your jaw from dropping in bewilderment. is this boy really garroth’s little brother? there’s no way they share an ounce of dna.

“hey baby brother, where are you going?” garroth questions, his lips dropping into a disappointed frown as he follows the scrawny boy.

“i’m going to sit under a tree. on my phone. and as isolated from you four as possible.”

you glance at the other brother, who offers a sheepish smile.

“i’m vylad, it’s nice to meet you too… sorry about zane.”

you shrug your shoulders awkwardly.

“um… it’s no problem. nice to meet you, vylad-“

“nope! come on now, you heard mom. we need to get you into a sport.”

“i’m not doing it.”

garroth and—as vylad kindly introduced for you—zane have begun to talk a bit more heatedly from the tree zane decided to stubbornly plop himself under.

“yes, you are.”

“why should i?”

garroth looks down in contemplation, before looking up at zane with an almost mischievous expression.

“because if you don’t, i’ll hug you in front of the entire school every chance i get. for the rest of the year.”

you three spectators snicker in amusement as zane looks down in annoyance.

“…i hate you, garroth.”

oh.

“aww, zane! you should just tell your brother you love him.” aphmau laughs, a bit nervously at that.

“shut up you girl-woman-thing!”

“girl-woman-thing?” you deadpan, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“uhh… so, vylad! pick a sport.” aphmau quickly recovers.

“easy! soccer!”

garroth has walked back to us. he’s smiling, but the corners of his mouth turn into something that looks more dejected.

“are you sure? i was thinking base-“

“oh my gosh! i love soccer, vylad!” aphmau gasps.

“really? you should’ve said something when you were talking about it with laurance. you should try out for the team,” garroth starts tugging off his jacket, tossing it onto the nearby bench.

“i played a lot of soccer as a kid, so i wanted to try something new. like track, maybe. i still really love soccer, though!” she looks back to where the parking lot is. “i actually have a soccer ball in my mom’s car, i’ll go get it.”

“okay, i know a perfect spot in the park to play on!” vylad agrees, excitedly beginning to walk down the sidewalk. “it’s further down this way.”

you nod, glancing over at aphmau. she waves you on along with the brothers, already walking off to the parked cars.

“alright! you guys go, and i’ll meet you there, okay?”

you split off from her, following the boys down the pavement before remembering garroth’s teal carhartt still on the bench.

“oh!”

you spin back around jogging and retrieving the jacket before catching up to garroth. it’s heavier than expected, and you jokingly pretend to use it as a dumbbell before handing it off to him.

“i threw a baseball in my pocket and my phone is in there, so thanks,” he sheepishly accepts it, tucking it over the crook of his elbow.

“while aphmau and your brothers play soccer—“

zane sighs in annoyance from behind you.

“—do you want to play catch? i’ll probably drop it more than i actually catch it, but…”

garroth chuckles, reaching up to softly facepalm in amusement.

“sure, i’ll throw softly.”

you clap your hands quietly, turning to the younger boy that you had finally caught up to.

“so, vylad, right? are you in aphmau’s class or something?” you inquire, wondering where the edge lord behind you fits into the equation.

“yep! i transferred from o’khasis prep cause the commute was too far, and i got to move up a grade cause i had pretty good grades.”

“oh! that’s cool,” you glance back at garroth. “i thought i heard that o’khasis accent.”

garroth’s eyes widen for a split moment as the tips of his ears begin to redden. vylad giggles a bit, finally stopping in front of a pretty field with freshly trimmed and thick grass. conveniently, it also has two goals set up on either side for community use.

“yeah, zane and i actually got homeschooled for a bit and didn’t catch on to the accent, so garroth is mainly the one who still kinda has it from when we lived there.”

you hum in understanding, glancing back at the boy who was readjusting his hat and scratching the nape of his neck.

“i didn’t know i still had one.”

“it’s nice.”

you’d almost forgotten that the emo kid was there until he sighed again, looking around for a shady spot to retreat to. before he could walk away, garroth yanks him back by the hoodie, pulling him into a forced side hug. zane makes a noise of discomfort, a sound mixed with annoyance and disgust.

“no, you’re gonna play with vylad and aphmau.”

zane glares over at the brown-haired brother who has wandered a little off into the field. he holds out a thumbs up, smiling as he squints through the sun's rays.

“why don’t you actually say something nice to her?” garroth pinches zane’s shoulder.

shockingly light blue eyes glare at you through straight, dark lashes, narrowing at you in pure annoyance.

“hi,” he tensely greets, jaw immediately clenching.

“hi…” you awkwardly return, before pointing towards your cheeks. “um, i like your freckles…?”

the boy’s nose wrinkles, seemingly not liking the cute undertones your compliment implied. despite the look of refusal and defiance that he gives you, his whole face begins to grow pink.

“okay?” he snarkily responds, looking at you like you had just said the sky was green.

“go with vylad,” garroth groans, releasing him and lightly pushing him forward, causing him to stumble out into the grassy field.

he catches his footing, shooting a sharp glare back to garroth and flashing him with his middle finger, black rings and nails contrasting against the pale skin. garroth shrugs at him, completely unphased.

“i’m sorry about him, he’s uh… going through,” he gestures at the boy in black now skulking over to vylad who was jumping around like a goofball. “uh, whatever that is.”

you shake your head with a dry laugh, shrugging your shoulders.

“it’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

he sighs, frowning at his younger brothers.

“yeah well…” he begins, trailing off before shaking his head. “never mind.”

“i got it!” you hear aphmau announce, her small footsteps bounding up to you and stomping to a stop right next to you, soccer ball in her hands. “you playing?”

“we’re not that good at soccer, so we were gonna let you and vylad teach zane while we play catch over here,” garroth pulls out the baseball from his pocket… and then reaches into the hidden inner lining of his jacket and pulls out two baseball gloves.

how did he hide those in there?

aphmau blinks, before shrugging and excitedly running off into the field with a chirpy, “okay then!”

garroth smiles at you before looking down at the two gloves, handing you the slightly smaller and much more worn one.

“this one was from when i was younger. it’ll fit you better and it's worn in already, so it’ll be easier to catch.”

“oh, thanks.”

he nods, tossing up the ball in his hand and catching it as he paces a little distance away from you. he lightly spins the baseball between his fingers before nodding at you to get ready. you lift the glove up, feeling a bit nervous as the broad-shouldered baseball captain stands in front of you.

“what position do you play, garroth?”

“pitcher.”

he throws the ball your way. it’s still dauntingly fast, and your whole face unwillingly flinches as the ball smacks against the glove. you can tell he barely put any force into it, too, which makes you feel bad for anyone who has to bat up against him.

“i can tell,” you meekly respond, holding the ball between your first two fingers and your thumb.

“sorry…i thought i threw that soft,” garroth smiles, a small entertained laugh leaving his lips.

you shake your head sheepishly, throwing the ball back and watching as it satisfyingly lands in garroth’s glove.

“not bad,” he throws the ball back, a bit slower this time. “how do you like phoenix drop so far?”

“uhhh—“ you think of your recent detention and put a little more force into your throw. “it’s okay.”

“just okay?”

“well, it’s school. and i guess there’s a few good people who have made it better so far.”

you deadpan back at him when he doesn’t throw back the ball, instead humming and readjusting his cap while looking at you expectantly

“yes, you’re one of them.”

he grins cheekily, tossing the ball back in satisfaction.

“cool.”

“i can run.” you hear zane protest, and you turn to look at the group. aphmau is slowly backing up, arms crossed as she watches him glare at his polar opposite brother.

“…really?”

“away from you.”

you glance back at garroth before both of you silently agree to walk closer. you both pause near aphmau, who is picking at her nails.

“sorry… i knew you were excited to play soccer,” garroth apologizes for his brother’s behavior once again, glaring over at the boy’s attitude.

“it’s,” she sighs. “fine. at least he’s giving it a chance? he always seems so lonely in class.”

garroth shrugs, looking on at his brothers with a complex of emotions on his face.

“yeah, but he likes to be alone, so i try to respect it. he’s my little brother, so it’s not like i can parent him out of being that way, even if i try.”

you watch his side profile as he stares at his younger brothers. he looked so fond of them… but strangely distant.

“no! i don’t want to play with you vylad!”

“fine…” vylad sighs, his tone dejected. “then garroth can kick to you.”

“hell no!”

“what’s going on?” garroth walks forward, aphmau and i trailing behind.

“zane being emo,” vylad shoots a glare at his peeved brother. “he doesn’t want me or you to kick the ball to him.”

“it’s stupid.”

“you just don’t want garroth or i to show you up.”

“shut up.”

“i’ll kick with you, zane,” aphmau pipes up, nervously stepping forward.

zane looks at her for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

“you? you couldn’t kick the ball to me from where you are right now with those twinkle-toe-looking short-ass kid legs.”

you hate that the corner of your mouth twitches in amusement.

“zane,” garroth says, his tone threateningly even and deep as he shoots an irritated glare at the boy. “that’s rude.”

aphmau walks forward, grabbing the ball from vylad. she sets out on the ground before kicking the ball right by zane’s shoulders and into the goal’s net.

“you're supposed to block it, by the way.”

“that was just a practice run.”

vylad walks towards you and garroth, though his eyes are trained on his older brother’s, his excitement from before now turned into a disappointed frown. garroth’s hand claps onto vylad’s shoulder, patting the younger boy assuredly with a sigh.

thwack!

your attention is suddenly pulled back to the mood-killer of the day, only to find him crumpled on the ground with his hand to his face. garroth, who saw the whole thing, doubles over in silent laughter and uses vylad to keep him upright.

“damn,” vylad says, before joining garroth in his giggles.

“oh… my… i’m so sorry!” aphmau apologizes frantically, her hand slapping over her mouth.

you sigh, jogging towards zane as a strange feeling of pity fills your stomach. he sits himself up, hands still on his head when you reach your hand out for him to take. he flinches when he realizes you’ve walked up to him, his lip curling and hands winding back like he was getting ready to slap it away.

“just take the hand, dude.”

a second passes before his bony hand slaps onto yours, digging uncomfortably into your skin as you help him get back on his feet.

“you good?”

he glares off at his brothers, eyes pricked with tears no doubt from getting hit square in the face. his pale skin was irritated and splotched red, his only exposed eye beginning to swell.

“yeah, it just stings,” he trudges ahead of you and off the field, sitting on a nearby bench.

“i have to say, i wasn’t expecting you to catch the ball with your face!” garroth laughs at the younger boy.

“shut up, garroth!”

aphmau catches up, stopping in front of zane with a petrified look on her face.

“oh my gosh, zane, i am so so so so sorry!” she rambles, hands coming up to cover her mouth.

“you did that on purpose.”

“no, i swear i didn’t! i’m just not good at aiming!”

“you could’ve told me that before you fully sent the ball hurling towards my head.”

“i’m so sorry. are you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“yeah, his other eye got messed up from—“ vylad starts, before getting cut off by a warning look from zane.

you happen to glance over at garroth, who has a deep frown on his face. he notices your stare, and immediately his expression shifts back to his normal passiveness.

“well, this definitely calls for a break. i’m glad you at least tried it out, zane.”

zane rolls his eyes, only to make a small groaning sound and hold his head.

“whatever.”

you look around, noticing a bathroom building that had a vending machine outside of it. without saying anything you jog off towards it, leaving behind your group. reaching in your pocket, you snag some cash you had taken with you, sliding it into the machine and pressing down on the water button.

quickly, you grab the water and jog back, seeing that the moms have returned from their run.

“oh, he’ll be fine, he has two brothers, and zane’s been through much worse.”

you wave to your mom, before holding the water bottle out near the boy’s face.

“here. it’ll help with the swelling.”

“well, aren’t you just a sweetheart! you should take notes from her, zuzu.” zianna gushes, coming up to you and cupping one of your cheeks adorably in her hand.

zane sighs, holding the water bottle up to the side of his face, letting the cold condensation soothe the sensitive skin.

“thanks,” he grumbles and you nod in response, waving off the gesture like it was nothing.

“oh-em-gee, this is totes deja vu! remember that time that aphmau did this exact same thing to zane when the kids were playing dodgeball in the old neighborhood?”

“that’s totes right!”

“yes, i remember! they were all the cutest little kids back then!”

you glance back at aphmau and the three boys, who look just as confused as you feel. as you lock eyes with aphmau, something clicks, and you remember the childhood photograph on her wall.

slowly, your jaw drops, eyes widening in realization.

“huh?” she questions, looking concerned by your sudden expression.

“the picture!”

she blinks, before her head whips back to garroth and then to the other two.

“the picture!”

“what picture? we just met you guys?” vylad looks between you two and the women giggling behind you, amused by the whole situation. “what are you talking about, mom?”

she breaks out into more giggles.

“oh, don’t tell me you don’t remember each other?”

sylvanna catches her breath from her own amusement, placing a hand on her chest.

“we lived in the same neighborhood when you guys were all so tiny. you played with each other every week!”

“oh, girl. i was so devastated when the two of you moved away!” zianna frowns at the memory.

the five of you teenagers gawk at the information, jaws hanging open in shock.

“you know, i actually do vaguely remember. aphmau wore that red dress all the time,” garroth glances at you. “and i remember playing t-ball with you.”

you furrow your eyebrows, trying to recall the memory and getting a few glimpses of your childhood.

“oh yeah…”

“well, they were pretty little, so it’s no wonder they don’t really remember,” your mom laughs, glancing at you. “you were such a worried and cautious kid even when you were little. you cried more when the boys or aphmau did when they got hurt, trying to make sure they were okay.”

“yes, i remember that! she’d come running back to the house asking for bandaids that weren’t even for her all the time, the little medic. seems like that hasn’t changed.”

“this is so cute! i had no idea you guys didn’t remember each other! we should have dinner over at my place tonight so we can all catch up!” zianna squeals, grabbing onto sylvanna and your mom in excitement.

“that sounds wonderful! we’ll head home to wash up and i’ll bring a dish or something.”

“same here, we’ll be there!” your mom smiles.

“ooh, please bring those quesadillas, sylvanna,” zianna butchers the pronunciation, before turning to your mom. “and you should totes bring that yummy guac you used to make!”

“it’s que-sa-di-yas, zianna,” sylvanna playfully rolls her eyes.

“it’s delicious to me!” she claps her hands with a laugh.

“alright, we’ll see you later this evening then.”

“bye, girlfriends! let’s go boys, you’ve got some cleaning to do.”

you turn and wave to your—freshly reunited?—childhood friends, who seem equally as bewildered.

“uh, i guess we’ll talk later,” garroth waves back, robotically turning to walk with his energetic mother as the cogs still turn in his brain.

“see ya…?”

you and aphmau trail behind your moms, who are excitedly planning to drive together to the ro’meave home later.

“this is crazy. we became friends with them again without even knowing.”

“yeah…small world i guess.”

☆

“do i have to wear a dress?”

“yes, it’s a small dinner party and we need to look presentable,” your mom answers, turning to make sure your dad also kept his word on dressing decently. “plus, the ro’meaves are super rich…”

“what was that?”

“nothing! besides, it’s not like it’s a super fancy dress, you look so cute! do you have the guac bowl?”

“yes…”

she nods, ushering you and your dad out of the house and speed walking down the sidewalk. you both deadpan at each other, your dad scratching through his beard with a sigh.

“alright, if it makes your mom happy.”

you shrug, “and me.”

“that’s good enough for me, i guess.”

aphmau’s house smells good, the scent of chicken and beef quesadillas wafting through the air.

“oh mija, aphmau and one of her little friends from school are out back picking some hot peppers for the salsa, why don’t you go join them!” sylvanna points towards the back door, before leaning towards you. “and make sure there’s no flirting or funny business.”

you nod with a knowing smile, holding back a laugh at her insistent stare.

“okay, i’ll give you an update when i return, captain.”

you slip out of the sliding glass doors as the adults start to talk, looking around before spotting a garden to your left. you step off the deck, following a pretty mosaic stone trail to the intricate, fenced-in veggies and flowers. after stepping into the gate, you admire all the terra-cotta and talavera pots, as well as a lime and orange tree in the mix. everything seemed almost overgrown, but so carefully groomed and placed that you could tell it was well cared for.

“hey guys,” you greet, spotting aphmau in a cute red dress and headband, as well as that white-haired kid from your first day. “oh, and hey travis! good to see you again.”

his eyes widen, before he shoots a brace-filled smile your way, earnestly greeting you with a call of your name.

“good to see you too! so you’re going to vylad’s house, huh? that’s crazy.”

“i know, right? none of us remembered each other at all.”

“yeah, super weird,” aphmau shakes her head analyzing the jalapeños she picked in her hand.

“i think it’s super cool! you have a little connection to someone you didn’t even know was there.”

you smile at him. “yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it.”

“yeah, garroth is almost unrecognizable from the childhood photos,” aphmau trails.

“stop drooling,” travis deadpans at the girl, laughing as she flusteredly panics in response.

“i’m not!”

“you totally were. but hey, i don’t blame you! lots of girls have a crush on him.”

“no kidding,” you monotone, an image of ivy’s twisted face popping into your mind.

“i do not have a crush on him,” she defends, though the red on her cheeks betray her.

“uh-huh, sure,” travis drawls out sarcastically, turning to laugh with you when aphmau hisses at him to stop again.

he puts his hands up in defense, backing up when he’s threatened with a jalapeño to the face. the two of you let your giggles fiddle out, before travis seemingly remembered something important, his lips flattening into a serious line.

“hey, i heard you two were with gene and his gang a while ago… is that true?”

“oh, i mean we did “meet them”, i guess. but we didn’t really talk to them.”

“oh, okay. good. i was kinda worried.”

“where did you hear that?” aphmau stutters, dusting off her clothes as she stands back up, seemingly satisfied with her selection of peppers.

“dante told me. he said gene mentioned it or something. he didn’t say anything bad, but he was talking about you two,” he reaches up to fiddle with a strand of his hair by his ear, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “i just… know they’re not the best influences, so i wanted to check on you guys. dante really looks up to gene, but i don’t think he knows the kind of stuff he gets up to.”

“thanks, travis. that’s really nice of you.”

he nervously laughs, shrugging his shoulders.

“i mean yeah. i haven’t gotten to know you that well but aphmau’s my not-alone-buddy, so if you guys are good friends i’d like to look out for you, too.”

your chest feels warm as you smile at him.

“thanks. i’ll look out for you, too.”

“oh! that reminds me travis, how’s theatre club?”

“ooh, you joined?”

“yeah, i did!” travis stutters, eyes lighting up. “it’s going really great. hey, you know the girl with blue hair that hit me in the face on the first day?”

“katelyn?”

“uh, yeah! she stops by and visits the club sometimes…” his cheeks grow to a warm shade of red.

“sounds like you have a crush, travis.”

“wha—no, i mean—!” he sputters, scratching the back of his neck. “i mean she is really cute… but she has a boyfriend already.”

you blink. katelyn has a boyfriend?

“really? who?”

“his name is jeffory. goldwyn is his last name, i think. he’s a really good-looking senior so i don’t even have a chance.” he sighs.

you hum in pity and understanding for the boy, recalling the tall, smiley, and handsome upperclassman who had stopped by volleyball practice a few times. he had pretty eyes and brown hair, and he seemed super friendly and charming from the few times you said hello. now that you think about it, he did really only hang around katelyn when he did come by the gym.

“so i’m not even gonna try anything. she is really pretty, though.”

“maybe one day,” you halfheartedly encourage with a shrug of your shoulders. “uh… not wishing on her to break up with him or anything—“

travis laughs, face brightening again from the small dejected pout that had begun to form on his lips.

“hey!” sylvanna calls from the porch, her projected voice startling the three of you. “what’s taking you three so long?! we have to get going soon! dios mío…”

“coming, mom!” aphmau calls giving you two a look before shuffling out of the garden with her peppers in hand. “guess we lost track of time.”

“yeah, better not make your mom mad,” travis mutters, quickly falling behind the girl before leaning over to whisper to you. “she kinda scares me.”

you laugh at him, stepping through the sliding doors into the house. dad quickly scopes out the boy, making himself known by very firmly grasping his shoulder and reaching out to shake his hand. you watch as travis’s soul nearly leaves his body, face paling at the gruff-looking man in front of him.

“how’re you doin’ kid? what’s your name?”

“uh—hello sir,” travis stutters, quickly shaking his hand. “it’s travis.”

your dad pauses, squinting down at him uncertainly.

“what’s your last name?”

“va—valkrum… sir?”

“huh. you terry’s boy?”

“you know my dad?”

“yeah. we were old buddies a while back when you were just about to here in height,” dad gestures to his knees with his hand. “i thought you looked familiar.”

you glance over at sylvanna and mom, who are staring at each other with shocked looks on their faces.

“well, nice to meet you, son. you need a ride home?”

travis freezes with his mouth open, trying to muster up words.

“if it’s not out of your way, that would be nice.”

he nods, before leaving the poor boy be—as he was almost quaking in place. when your dad is out of earshot he leans over to you again, face still pale.

“your dad scares me more.”

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @thenyxsky

#aphmau mystreet #mystreet x reader #mystreet #aphmau #x reader #phoenix drop high #aphmau pdh #pdh #reader insert #fem reader

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