#what she's told about the outside is filtered down to what the speaker thinks is interesting

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Since I can't keep myself out of Meteors fun, here's some nonsense: Eddie and Cassie trying to help with Roxy's aquaphobia by trying to get her to walk on (safe!) ice in the wintertime.

Meteors is fun! Glad you're having fun with it too cause it's great!!

Been thinking about this one and... honestly? I don't think Roxy would actually know what ice is outside of the cubes in your drink. Why would she? Nothing but ice in drinks would have ever been relevant to her before. She would probably know that ice melts and becomes water, but she would have never seen it in any other setting than a drink...

Which gives me the idea of her frequenting a park with a pond or mini lake or whatever, experiencing winter for the first time ever and stopping to think like. Why is there... not water here anymore? Where'd it go??? Did they just cover it over or something???? Ohhhh she can WALK on this!! Oh it's cold though... and slippy, actually. Huh... Calling Eddie and Cassie over to check out this cool thing on the water and they find her sliding on it like :D lmao

I like to make Eddie a bit of a worry wart. A very safety oriented guy, that is trying to make the unsafe things that Roxy does and deserves to do as safe as possible (such as an emergency phone, drilling on emergency numbers, first aid stuff, general rules he is praying she's abiding by in that death trap of a Pizzaplex) and oh the heart attack he had seeing her fucking around on literal thin ice oh ye gods lmao

The fun part is explaining this to her to get her off the ice. Just shouting what she's standing on and she's like "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S ICE??? THIS ISN'T A CAFE!!" Gets off the ice, Eddie breaks through it with a rock and she's staring like O.O oh...

STILL

First winter is fun!! So is introducing Roxy to ice skating provided Eddie or a friend of his can make her some ice skates cause uh... that's the problem with paws for feet. Not really accommodated for :( and if they do this after the bit where she learns it's a large body of frozen water then she is scared what do you mean it's fun??? This is AWFUL why would you DO this are you all INSANE????

Cassie convinces her to come and try it after a long explanation of how an ice rink is made and... oh the sad dog noises... she is regretting every decision she's ever made... She's being constantly reassured as she slowly walks her way around the rink, clinging to the walls in case the ice breaks and there's water under it. "Roxy, it's okay! There's nothing under the ice but the floor!", "YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!!"

They might need to get an employee that works there to explain that it's just flat ice on the floor. It wouldn't be safe for the public otherwise! Roxy gives them the flattest look and says "I was an animatronic at Fazbears." and suddenly everyone in the vicinity has decided to never go to Fazbears again lmao that is not a promising sentence to hear

Pfft she is finally convinced - but still wary - that the ice isn't going to break and dunk her in ice water and she starts to let Cassie take her a little away from the wall. They're holding hands, arms out for balance and slowly building up speed the longer they spend there while Eddie is ahead guiding and encouraging them. When Roxy gets the confidence to go a little bit on her own, she falls... and yelps like she's stabbed or something. Eddie and Cassie immediately help as she scrambles and slips trying to get back up and when asked what she hurt (cause it must have hurt) she answers, "My FEELINGS"

They're both TRAITORS! She fell and the ice was wet why didn't they say anything?! Now her paws are wet and she can't stand wet paws how could they do this to her??? They sorta thought it would be obvious that if ice is made of water it's probably gonna wet that's their bad but they thought she broke her face is she for real-

Just sad dog noises as she keeps waving her paws around like a cat that stuck their paw in the water bowl and forgot there's water in there. "So........... do you want those mittens now?", "...... Yeah ;-;" They're all fine btw. Roxy was just spooked cause she didn't expect the water and immediately thought the worst in the moment. While she doesn't verbally apologise, she does tell them she's sorry about scaring them in her own little ways that she's learned. By this time, they probably understand what she's trying to say, and if not, then she says what she's doing it for if they ask. But anyway fuck that here's an idea

After coming down from the Spook of Ice being Wet, Cassie the absolute genius comes up with an idea to make this more fun. You know how at ice rinks they have those uhhh things for kids that can't skate that's like a penguin with handles and platform for them to stand on? Roxy and Cassie, to Eddie's never ending amusement and slight anxiety, take turns sitting on one while the other pushes it around. How hard they can shove each other across the ice depends on how long it takes for staff to stop them lmao they're still careful about trying to keep Roxy off the floor but with mitts on and her not falling as hard or suddenly and in a goofy silly way, it's not as bad.

Still bad though. The sad pupper noises return every time her fur gets wet from a fall until it's dried enough. They decide to go rollerskating next time. Less stuff to worry about there. I mean, who would put water under a roller rink, right?

[ragingbookdragon]

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

[austarus]

HR Wells x Reader - Reversal of Denouement

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

Word Count: 8251

MASTERLIST

A low groan left HR's lips. His body felt numb, his chest ached - tingled as his heart beats steadily. Is it beating? The darkness of his eyelids eased the stinging coming from his mind – it wasn’t so bright. The headache formed there. His body screamed at him as the novelist made the slightest of movement. His left shoulder in particular had protested in desperate agony. He couldn’t move it very much, the area succumbed to restraints of some sort. HR’s throat felt raw as his body throbbed, the blood coursing meticulously through his blood vessels. The sound of a soft voice greeted his ears, but his eyes refused to open.

"I... you, HR... even if... see it." The voice was so familiar, so gentle. So sweet. "Should... better." A drop of water hit his numbed hand, static still prominent there from the little movement his body had done. “I wish…” The dark-haired doppelganger could only understand fragments of what the speaker was saying. He felt a pressure on his hand, tender skin holding onto his before something tickled his forehead. Feather-light. What was it? Who was it? A few moments passed and he heard nothing, the novelist only assumed that the voice’s owner had left. He didn’t want to be alone right now though, not with the darkness.

It had become unbearable.

Since... Since when did…? How...? Oh. Right. Savitar... Am I dead? Is this where spirits wait for their turn to pass into their designated afterlife? Have I really...? Events from earlier resurfaced to his mind, his senses coming together. Right, had to protect Iris. For Barry – it was my fault Savitar had gotten to her. My big mouth. Even if Barry didn't really see me as a helpful friend. At least... At least I proved Savitar wrong, who ironically is a version of Barry. That's hella twisted. He huffed out a breath before venturing back into the calmness of sleep. Maybe a little more rest will help?

***

HR cracked an eye open: this time, harsh filtered light had greeted him. The novelist grunted in pain, adjusting himself slightly to assess where he was. What day was it? What was the time? How long have I  been here? A yawn left his lips this time, his throat and mouth as dry as a desert.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up?” HR’s eyes met Cisco’s, who stood with a tablet in hand. “How’s sleeping beauty feeling?”

The Wells doppelganger cleared his throat. “Like I’ve gotten assaulted by an Amtrack bus, and not the good kinds.” HR’s baby blue eyes scanned the room, landing on the flower vase that was set on a table near him. Blue forget-me-knots and pink hydrangeas stood proudly in their vases, nurtured well. HR felt his heart swell, his eyes not daring to leave the delicate petals that accented the med bay in better tones. Cisco handed him a cup of water to which HR downed it immediately.

“Amtrack does trains.”

“Not on my Earth, Francisco.” The author couldn’t help but ask, his eyes lingering on the flowers once more. “Did Tracy bring those?”

Cisco pursed his lips, an odd look present on his face. He wanted to tell HR, but… “No. Um, she didn’t.” Tracy had been visiting, though it had become some sort of a nuisance to all her complaining at this point. She hadn’t even known HR for that long, anyway.

“Oh?” His shoulders dropped subtly in disappointment. “They’re beautiful, I was just wondering and…”

“Let’s just say, a special someone’s been… dropping by and bringing a new flower each day. That’s all you’re getting from me, Aurora.” Cisco reasoned with the Wells doppelganger. The mechanical genius knew, but it wasn’t his place to say. It killed him, but… “I wouldn’t move around too much, if I were you. You’ve got a fractured shoulder and that chest wound. I’ve been told to relay the message that you’re to be on strict bed rest until that shoulder further heals.” HR lowered his gaze to see the cross-body sling. He clenched his slinged hand and unclenched it to bring some feeling into the limb.

“What about my chest?”

“Miraculously, that’s been healing really well since day one.” Cisco kept the talk real, showing the injured doppelganger the schematics and pictures. “You got lucky that it missed your heart by a centimeter.” A stab wound like that should have… I wonder if she knows that I know.

HR blinked at the seriousness in his injury, the looming idea of death from his decision. “How long was I out?”

“A week and a half.”

“What?” HR’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I-”

“HR!” Tracy’s sudden voice pierced the room, stunning Cisco and triggering an ache in HR’s head. The grad scientists shuffled over to him, both forgetting that Cisco was in the room. “HR, my love, how are you? Are you feeling okay? Is there any pain?” He continued checking his friend’s vitals and adjusting dosages to the IV and morphine administered – as per your request. The room was growing ever louder with HR and Tracy. Tracy embraced him, minding his injuries as she continued to fuss over him. It made the Wells writer smile, yet… his heart didn’t swell as much as it used to.

Odd.

Cisco sent you a quick text while the two were preoccupied, but you were already at the Labs. You stopped just outside the entrance, the wall and dimly light hallway obscuring you from who remained in the med bay. They wouldn’t be able to see you from where you stood.  A shaky breath left you as you clutched the Freesia flower in hand. Your heart shriveled in your chest as you backtracked. Hearing his voice is enough. After all, with Tracy around you couldn’t be near him – those dirty and hateful looks she’d send you. Best to keep my distance, I guess. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him though, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart and would never reciprocate your love. You pushed down the lump in your throat. Hastily, you sent Cisco a text to check on the flowers. Silently, you trailed away from the med bay and to the upper levels of STAR Labs. I wonder if he liked the flowers. Standing at such altitude with the wind blowing lightly had calmed you a bit. Looking down at the flower, you gripped it tightly before you began to pick off the petals one by one. The little moments you had with the goofy novelist surfaced to the forefront of your mind with each petal you held. Your little curious escapades. The little talks. The nights you’d visit him when Tracy wasn’t around.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” You murmured, a stray tear trickled down your cheek. The freesia symbolizes unconditional love and honor. “He loves me, he loves me not,” Your voice cracked as more tears fell. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

***

A frown presented itself on HR’s lips as he tilted his head to crack his neck. The crack relieved him tremendously. It didn’t make sense. The novelist mused to himself, setting aside the current chapter draft he was working on. The voice I heard was… different. It didn’t sound like Tracy’s. HR couldn’t get that voice out of his mind – the tenderness that was laced in the tone of that voice. Nothing like the slight shrill in Tracy’s. He eyed the flowers once more that day, their presence was prominent. If Tracy hadn’t brought those, then who had?

The team had helped situate HR in his room in order to vacate the med bay should another imminent event occur. He had overheard Cisco tell Wally that you were preoccupied with something in Star City – a bit of disappointment twinged inside him. HR had taken up doing bits of physical therapy for the rest of his body without moving his shoulder as much. His shoulder and arm remained in a crossbody sling. The flowers sat on his bedside counter; he tended to them as best as he could with the limited movement he had. Tracy protested that they don’t need to be around, but the novelist was vehement on keeping the plants. HR won’t deny the fact that he had gotten annoyed several times with her around when he needed thinking space for his writing. He couldn’t write with noise and nonsensical chatter, especially if it’s mainly coming from someone who doesn’t want to really listen to his input. She’d go on and on about her scientific research and such, but wouldn’t hear a word from HR regarding his writing. The longer the novelist was confined to his room for rest, the more he had time to think – to contemplate. Yes, he liked Tracy, but… it just seemed that she didn’t really see HR. She does all the talking; she doesn’t really ask about how I feel about things or ask me about my life, even things about Earth-19… It’s like she doesn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face. It’s not even my face that Tracy sees, just Randolph’s. Was I too quick to jump at the first person who showed interest in me? Had I rushed into ‘forever’ with her?

He tabled those thoughts for now. HR reached for his laptop; one hand opened it to start it up. While the device loaded, he grabbed his black-clear glasses and set them on his face. If anyone saw him as such, they wouldn’t be able to tell the physical difference between him and his handsome, yet grumpy doppelganger. Except for the eyebrow scar, but that was obscured by the glasses. HR did a couple of searches with a concentrated look. Surely, it was the person with that… angel-like voice.

“Hydrangeas,” HR whispered as his eyes skimmed over the text that had popped up. “The hydrangea represents gratitude, grace and beauty. It also radiates abundance because of the lavish number of flowers and the generous round shape. Its colors symbolize love, harmony and peace.” The Wells doppelganger scrolled further. “Pink hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions.” Interesting. HR continued his research, glancing at the other flower type that resting in the vase. “Forget-me-nots symbolize true love and respect. When you give someone these tiny blooms, it represents a promise that you will always remember them and will keep them in your thoughts. They are also considered a symbol of fidelity and faithfulness.” A particular link caught his eye, he clicked on it. The novelist read to himself the text once more, “Based on Christian lore, the story about forget-me-nots is that God was walking in the Garden of Eden. He saw a blue flower and asked it its name. The flower was a shy flower and whispered that he had forgotten his name. God renamed the flower as forget-me-not saying that He will not forget the flower.”

HR swallowed thickly; contrary to popular belief around here, he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he wasn’t a science-based genius, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an expert on other aspects of life and had basic common sense. The author was emotionally intelligent and intact with the world around him. These flowers weren’t picked out on accident. But who would do that? Who doesn’t want me to forget about them? The dark-haired man shook his head slightly as he shut his laptop. A surge of sadness welled inside him at the notion of ‘being forgotten’. Who had he done that to? He’d get to the bottom of this mystery in due time. Right now, I need to jog my memory on what I was writing. A hand found a rough draft paper, his eyes scanned over the words he had typed out. His brows creased as the written notes he’d made on the paper as well. (Y/N) … I had… What had I been writing about again? The novelist read each line, each note he had made no drafts and scratch paper.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood up as realization hit him the more he had read on. The drafts, the notes, all of it – the little novel he had been writing regarding his adventures. But this particular part of his story – the ‘angel’ in his story. The one who stuck by him since coming here, the one who had given him a safe space… And the one he hadn’t seen since waking up. How could he forget? HR lowered the paper; his eyes became half-lidded as guilt shot through him. Before Barry had gone to the future and gotten hints of Tracy with her Speed Bazooka, HR had been working on his book. A book that he had pushed off to stick with Tracy and help in any way that he can to make the speed weapon possible. He had gotten distracted from doing the things he loves. A few conjectures arose in his mind as he slipped his glasses off, one arm end pressed to his lips. His heart hammered into his chest; you were among the last faces he had seen before passing out that night.

The irony. How could I forget that (Y/N) was the ‘angel’ in my story?

***

“Look at you, up and at ‘em.” Cisco strolled into the lounge with a cheeky grin. The mechanical genius didn’t take HR for granted anymore, not with the stunt he pulled. No, Cisco willingly checked up on him – not just for you, but for himself. HR had truly become one of his close friends in the end, especially with all the advice about Gypsy. “What are you cooking up this time?”

“Just an omelet with a side of bacon and toast, Francisco,” HR turned to the mechanical engineer who continued to tinker away at the schematics to get Barry out of the Speedforce. He offered Cisco some with a gesture only for the scientist to politely decline. “I haven’t seen (Y/N) anywhere. Um, is she also…?”

“Oh, you know how she’s like. Either up in the vents or chilling in her birds’ nest on the roof. And on that note, our resident hummingbird has become quite the firecracker.”

HR raised an eyebrow at his friend. “How so?”

“She punched Savitar square in the face then decked him multiple times over when Barry brought him in. Harry had to be the one to pull her away – well, more like carry her away kicking and screaming bloody murder at him. It sounded badass; wish I had been there to see it.”

The Wells doppelganger gritted his teeth at the mental image of Harry carrying you – touching you. The thought ruffled his feathers for some reason.  HR expertly masked his irritation, turning the stove off and assembling the food on his plate. “Why?”

“Because he hurt you, HR.”

“…”

“He almost killed you.” And that was unforgivable, especially to her. “We almost lost you. She almost lost you.”

A rough sigh escaped HR as Cisco had sent him a knowing look before exiting the STAR Labs lounge. The Earth-19 man chewed on the inside of his cheek. Only a fool would misunderstand Cisco’s subtle intentions. HR knew what he had to do – he’d been reflecting on his time here, thinking about the people around him, about the relationships he’s formed. The novelist glanced outside – the sun shined, the birds chirped, and the trees rustled with the wind. 

And the world continues to move on.

***

“When are you going to tell him?”

“…” You tensed at the abrupt voice. You snapped your head up, eyes darting to find Cisco approaching you with pocketed hands in his gray-black jacket. He wore a Bulbasaur shirt. The clouds surged by with the intensity of the breeze. Your hair blew over your shoulders slightly. Tilting your head, you turned back to watch the city. Days had passed and you refused to see HR, content on what Cisco had been telling you. He’d been recovering tremendously well, but… you didn’t really want to hear about what he and Tracy were up to. It wounded you. “Tell who, what?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Ms. I’m-going-to-put-my-feelings-in-a-box.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ohohohoho, no. I am tired of the love eyes, the lingering gazes, the pining. It ends.” Your best friend came to sit down next to you with that frustrated look on his face. “I know you have powers.” Your heart stopped in your chest at his accusation. “I know you used your powers to heal HR.” You bit down on your lip, not wanting to validate his statement. Cisco saw “I analyzed the wounds, looked at his healing at a microscopic level. I’m not Caitlin, but even I can pick up a few things. His cells were excelled to heal, but there were residues of your genetic markers at the wound point. You stitched his wounds together, cell-by-cell. My point is: why didn’t you say anything? Your powers are a-”

“-A curse.”

“What?”

“They’re a curse.” You threw a hard look at Cisco, making sure your hands wouldn’t touch him. “I can’t be playing God, Cisco. And… it’s unpredictable, volatile. I could either heal the life in my hands or take it away. I could rip someone ‘cell-by-cell’, Cisco. There’s no ‘in between’, not this time. He got lucky with my powers. He got lucky I didn’t make things 100% irreversible.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Cisco eyed the gloves you wore; it wasn’t the season for leather gloves.

“Because I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“You don’t want to give yourself false hope, you mean.”

“…I can’t even heal a plant, Cisco. No matter how hard I tried, it wilted further. It’s a curse.”

“That’s not guaranteed every time, you know. It takes practice – discipline to get your powers to work with you instead of for you.” He nudged your shoulder with his, turning his gaze to the flock of birds drifting through the wind. “You know, he broke up with Tracy.”

“Ok?”

“Happened a week ago. She didn’t take it well and let me tell you. Tracy Brand was livid – the rage and yelling were off the charts. I think she has Harry beat. I knew it wasn’t going to last anyway, it was too superficial to begin with.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to sound uninterested, but deep down you were relieved. You heard a little ring in your ear. You wondered…

“She’s gone, won’t be coming here anymore.

“Ok.”

“So, go make your move.”

You turned abruptly to face him. “Cisco, have you thought that maybe HR doesn’t want to dive into a relationship right away? That… maybe he needs space to focus on himself?” All were things you had contemplated for yourself before.

“And what better way to do that than with a new roommate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Surprise, you’re getting a temporary roommate while we fully fix up things around the labs. I volunteered you since you have the space and the patience to deal with HR.” Your blood froze in your veins.

“Francisco Ramon, I am going to-”

“-Thank me, you’re going to thank me.” He had already breached away before you had the chance to strangle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the idea of HR living with you, even if it was a temporary living arrangement. You scolded your heart for beating loudly in your chest. One hand gripped tightly to your other. An audible sigh escaped you as your mind played with the idea.

Shit, what am I going to do?

***Day 1***

Cisco blew out an exhausted breath, setting down another box on top of a box in the guest room. You and the mechanical genius had been breaching back and forth with HR’s things as said novelist was crippled. His arm would take about another four weeks to heal. About 20 percent of shoulder fractures are displaced and may require some type of manipulation to restore normal anatomy. Occasionally the rotator cuff muscles are injured or torn at the same time as the fracture. Fortunately for HR, his rotator cuff muscles weren’t as damaged. This can further complicate the treatment. Therefore, in that time, HR would just be handling the lighter stuff, bless his heart. The novelist entered the room with his black backpack slung over his functioning shoulder – it was the last thing that he could carry.

“I think there’s one more box left,” HR pointed with his thumb towards his back direction, the breach closing behind him.

“I’ll go get it, not a problem. Why don’t you two get started on unpacking, huh?” HR shrugged with one shoulder and stepped away to set his bag down by the bed. Cisco threw a cheeky look your way when HR had his back turned, his eyebrows wiggling. ‘Have fun love birds,’ the scientist had mouthed at you. You flicked him off with a deadpanned look. Instantly you dropped it when the Wells doppelganger turned as Cisco snickered before he breached away. He gave you a confused look, but you waved it off.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For allowing me to stay obviously. And for all the help since I’m, well, a bit tangled up at the moment.”

He was referring to the cross-body sling that clung onto him like a spider. HR rubbed the back of his neck, and you didn’t miss the way his bicep flexed at the motion in that gray short-sleeve shirt. Calm the fuck down, it’s just a toned muscle. You’ve seen things like that before.  The puppy-like smile HR sent you had your cheeks warming up. The gentle smile that made your heart melt all over again. You cleared your throat as you reached for a box. “It’s no big deal, HR.” Undoing the tape seal with scissors, you opened the box- and the first thing you see are a pair of handcuffs accompanied by a silky black blindfold.

“What’s in the box?”

A little noise left you as you shut the flaps of the box, trying to seal it again. The flaps remained downward in the box. “Nope, nothing. Just some clothes here. I’m going to get that one box from the living room.” You had backtracked right into the door, your nose throbbed in response at the collision. “Ow,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the skin.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” your response was quick, but not rude. A deep chuckle made its way to your ears as you scrambled out the room, your heart hammering in your chest. Your thoughts scolded you for being so awkward and flustered around him. Be cool, just chill out… The man you’re hopelessly in love with is just living with you temporarily, it’s not like anything will amount from this. You picked up the last box in the living room, hoping that just clothes would be in here and not anymore kink toys. I mean… I have toys, too. AW SHIT, I HAVE TO HIDE THEM!

HR’s eyes never left you as you made your panicked exit. He let out a little breath before shuffling over to the box you had been attending to. Immediately, he face-palmed hard when he had opened it with one hand. His face felt impossibly hot at what you had seen. She must think I’m an idiot or something. His mind thought back to when you helped him shop for some new clothes then it had gotten ruined from a meta. His hand fell away from his face, the image of your kind grin imprinted in his mind. I am an idiot, though. A fool.

Once Cisco returned, you three continued unpacking HR’s things for the time he’d spend here. The labs were still in ‘piss-poor’ shape according to Cisco and that he’ll need to consult with Harry and Wally regarding repairs.

“HR, how are you showering?”

“Um, like a normal person?” A dumbfounded look crossed HR’s features as he set the plate of sandwiches down. The novelist had knitted his eyebrows at Cisco. He had taken up to experimenting in the kitchen when he wasn’t writing. The tea and coffee were still brewing in your kitchen.

“No, I mean with how your shoulder is injured,” Cisco snuck an evil look at you, you returned it with a glare, “must be hard handling it alone.” You knew exactly where this dumbass wanted to take this conversation, so you stayed silent as to not get caught in the crossfire.

HR thought to himself for a moment. “Just a bit, but I’ve gotten used to the mild discomforts and pain. I can mostly reach everything thanks to my long limbs. But I think the nice thing is that it’s an internal issue, not an external one. An external injury or wound would require me to really have help with showering that way the area doesn’t get infected or irritated with the contents of soaps.” A laugh fell from his lips, but his mind wondered what his friend was playing at while you were around.

“I’m just saying, if you ever need a hand well,” Cisco trailed off with a smirk, chomping on his third sandwich.

Oh, I see. Devious, but a futile effort. “I’ll make sure you’re the first one I ask for help,” HR teased with a smirk of his own for Cisco to drop his in disgust. A cough escaped you, which had HR’s eyes land on you. Your eyes met for a moment before you deviated your gaze. HR felt hypnotized for a moment. Hm… The engineer quickly recovered from HR’s snide remark.

“Alright kids, I’ll be going now. The labs require some diligent work that I, a capable and distinguished engineer, could only do.”

“Yet, we still have the occasional security issues,” You sipped your tea once the snarky comment was out. HR stifled a chuckle, but you heard it. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly at the notion.

“Hey, that’s not fair. They always come up with something new to invade our space by.” Cisco pointed a finger at you, mocking a hurtful expression on his face. It dropped into a sneaky smile. “Make good choices and always use protection, you two!” He breached away before you could throw your cup at him.

***Multiple Days Pass***

Through his time here, you noticed HR fueled to write what’s on his mind in the guest room. You could only assume that he continued his adventure story. Sometimes he would venture out for some coffee or take a walk to give his creativity a break. Keeping that in mind, you gave HR the space he needed as well as all noises to a minimum. You knew he liked the quiet atmosphere to pour his heart and soul into words as he did research for a scene. Pulling your jacket on, you compiled a list of groceries before you stepped out of your apartment. Locking the door, you headed out to the store picking up a few necessities as well as some snacks for HR. Like Harry, the novelist can easily lose himself in his task – which meant that he tended to forget about eating and such. You found a bag of Jitters coffee beans, adding it to your cart of items. Buying some snacks and fruit, you’d leave a note in the kitchen of the snacks when he emerged from his writing cave.

On the way back, you stopped by at Iris’ studio to check up on her. A few groceries for her as well were in hand. Cecile and you did your best to visit Iris. But you can’t deny that you blamed her to a certain extent. Had she spoken up once she had left Savitar’s place disguised as HR, HR wouldn’t have been hurt that night on Infantino Street. Surely, she could have contacted her father or Cisco or something. The transition could have been smoother. HR wouldn’t have been… The journalist was faring; she pushed through the pain and as Barry had told her ‘to keep living’. So, Iris did. She hadn’t been herself since Barry went into the Speedforce – she pushed too much, the smile wouldn’t reach her eyes sometimes. You sympathized; she lost the love of her life. But you almost had too.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, just… taking it one day at a time.” You nodded at her response, a small smile on your face. “How are things with you and HR? I heard of the temporary living conditions.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m in my bubble and he’s in his doing his writing.”

“Right. Nothing going on whatsoever?”

“Iris.”

Iris set her cup of hot chocolate down and raised both hands in mock defeat. “We all saw it. We all see it.”

“See what?”

“How smitten you are for him.”

“I’m not-”

“-Don’t say you’re not. If you weren’t you, Harry wouldn’t have to pry you off Savitar before you clawed his eyes out.”

“…” You just looked into your tea, the honey that settled at the bottom. Iris placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t look at her.

“The heart will want what it wants, (Y/N). Pushing your feelings into a box and denying it out loud won’t change things.”

“I know.”

And my heart wants him, over and over again. Even if he can’t see me.

***

HR tapped his pencil against the desk at a steady pace. His mind wouldn’t focus on the words in front of him, on the scene he wanted to set. Instead, it kept drifting further from it. Further towards you: your eyes, your smile, the kindness that you held; the serenity that your existence held as the world continued to turn and chaos had unfolded at each turn. HR didn’t see much of you while he was here, the novelist missed your company. You were here, but you weren’t really here. You were either in your room or at the balcony with a book or on the couch with your Switch. He didn’t want to bother you, but… sometimes HR just wanted to sit beside you and pull you close to talk. To hold you in his arms and ask you about your day, to understand what you were thinking. HR cracked his back in a stretch from where he sat on his bed, being mindful of his injured shoulder. It didn’t hurt as it had originally done a few weeks back. The Wells doppelganger noticed that you were careful to avoid touching him or him touching you. Not even a hug that you used to graciously give him. You were especially guarded with your hands. A rough sigh left him as he threw his pencil down. The frustration was setting in, he was getting nowhere. You consumed his thoughts. HR wondered if you were revolted by him but doesn’t verbalize his thoughts to you. He didn’t think you’d give him your truthful answer. Maybe she is revolted by me. She did find the cuffs and the blindfold… No, she knew about the cuff stage thing well before that.

The sound of the front door greeted his ears followed by the soft tune of music. A frown made its way onto his face. Might as well take a break. HR stretched once more when he fully stood up, a little noise of relief left his lips. He cracked his back once more before smelling himself. For safe measure, the novelist sprayed a bit of cologne on himself and turned off the candle he had on. He mentally noted to take a shower after dinner since his last was yesterday. He liked the feeling of being clean, to be honest. HR carded a hand through his hair. I need a haircut soon, too. Yeesh, I feel like I’m letting myself go. Once I’m all healed it’s back to proper cuts and the labs’ recreation room. He wanted to go back to lifting weights and doing yoga for body stability purposes – especially now because of his shoulder. HR rested a hand on his chest, the wound had healed completely, but a scar remained. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw the groceries on the table and heard you whisper along with the lyrics. The music was set to a low level that your whispers were audible enough. He watched you sway a bit with the tune.

So please don't break my heart

Don't tear me apart

I know how it starts

Trust me I've been broken before

Don't break me again

I am delicate

Please don't break my heart

Trust me I've been broken before

The guitar tune pulled at his heart, feeling the raw emotion behind the lyrics. He eyed you for a moment. HR cleared his throat to make his presence known, he knew you didn’t like to be snuck up on. However, a little gasp left you from where you were. “You went out shopping?”

You looked up from where you crouched to put away the cereal. “Uh yeah, we were running low on some stuff.” You shut the cabinet and went to the other items you had bought. The music continued to delicately play.

“Need any help?”

“Um, sure. Uh, just set these into the cabinet on the left.” Normal, be normal. He’s not going to eat you or anything. Distance is good. Distance keeps you safe. You didn’t meet his eyes, the eyes that’d pull you in and never let you out – your heart shook with him here and the song that played. You were hoping HR wouldn’t come out while you prepped dinner to have a sort of peace of mind. The next song played before you could stop it-

My last made me feel like I would never try again

But when I saw you, I felt something I never felt

Come closer, I'll give you all my love

If you treat me right, baby, I'll give you everything

“I like this song,” HR started as he was finishing up with putting his side of the groceries away. Another guitar-like song that brought out the soft feelings of love and rejection. HR mused to himself if fate had planned this out. If this was some sort of sign or a cruel joke… You had stopped yourself from clicking the button to skip the song at his comment. You don’t know what possessed you to let him indulge in another song that you’ve cried to late at night. “Hey, I can cook dinner tonight. I have something I’ve been wanting to try. I’m not that crippled so I can manage with a few cookware.” HR chuckled to himself, a goofy grin on his face. Your heart leapt in your chest; his grin caused a small smile to pull at your lips. “You can wash up first?”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting his icy blues. You felt your cheeks warm up slightly as the nerves crawled up your spine. “Oh, ok. Cool, yeah. Can’t wait to see what you cook up.” You nodded, ducking your head away and shuffling out of the kitchen with that shy smile on your face. You missed the longing look he had sent you as you fastened your steps to head to your room.

God I love that smile. What goes on in that little head of yours? We used to be so close… before Tracy came into the picture. HR pulled out the spices and the chicken breast. He shook his head and proceeded to prep the food with his one useful hand. I need to consult Francisco.

***

“We need to talk,” HR’s voice broke the silence in the side lab of the Cortex. He had breached to the labs using the Breach Extrapolator after he had showered and such. His damp hair was pushed back in HR’s normal style.

“About what?” Cisco raised a concerned eyebrow at the writer, stopping what he had been doing.

“(Y/N).”

A nervous laugh left Cisco as he went back to attempting to make the necessary modifications to the Speed Bazooka. Tracy was reluctant to help the mechanical engineer after the breakup. “What about (Y/N)?” Cisco put down his screwdriver. “Did you do something weird to her?”

“What? No! I- we used to be closer. We always talked, we’d hang out after a long day here at the labs.”

“Uh huh.”

“And, maybe it’s just me, but things have changed.”

“How so?” Cisco was wondering what conclusion HR was leading himself to.

“Things changed when Tracy came into the picture.”

Cisco made a little ‘o’ with his mouth with a little nod before closing it. He pushed a rough sigh past his lips, he was getting really tired of this puppy love game. “Why do you think that?”

“Francisco, she flinches when I get close – almost when I touch her… Does she hate me?”

“I think you and I know the answer to that one. But I think the real question should be: Why do you care so much? Why does it bother you? Do you love her, HR?”

The novelist tensed a bit. “…” HR pursed his lips as Cisco walked around the table that the speed weapon was mounted on. Blueprints were scattered on one table while the glass board held variables and equations he could not decipher. “What?”

“I said what I said,” the mechanical genius smoothly responded. One look at HR and Cisco knew that he was baffled by his forward words. But they needed to be said. “Now run along and use that head of yours to think about what your heart wants. Barry isn’t going to get himself out of the Speedforce.”

***

Cisco’s words mulled through HR’s mind as he breached back to your apartment’s living room.  Only the lamp light on the side table was on. HR’s eyes landed on you, who laid on the couch with the book you had been reading on the back ledge of the couch. The novelist took off his shoes and set down his bag. He had detoured to the bookstore, looking for the next installment of your current book. The Wells doppelganger had assumed you didn’t buy it yet as it was vacant from your bookshelf. The gentle giant stepped silently closer to you; the dim light cast over you like a glow. There were slight bags under your eyes. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Spotting a large and fluffy blanket near, HR grabs it and lays it on top of you. He remembered you mentioned to him prior that you easily get cold, especially at night. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, HR contemplated something before his body moved impulsively. The novelist placed a gentle kiss on your forehead; his lips lingered for a few more seconds. Pulling back, HR watched your chest rise and fall.  He turned the light off and stumbled over to his room with his phone light guiding him. He knew what he was going to write. Cisco’s question pestered him enough though.

Do you love her, HR?

HR took one look out his door before shutting it, his heart squeezed tightly in his chest as he whispered, “Goodnight, my angel.” Only the shadows that lingered were a witness to the fondness laced in those simple words.

***

You woke up with a start, you hand instantly smacking right into your chest. Heavy breaths left you as your nerves were in overdrive. Cold sweat beaded your skin as you gasp for air. It was another night terror – the same one for a few weeks now; a new way in which you caused HR’s death. Swallowing thickly, you screw your eyes tightly shut and whisper the mantra that calmed you down. After a few minutes, you started to regain control of your breathing – the thoughts that ravaged your mind finally ceased like the tides subsiding after a tsunami. You blinked languidly, hating nights like these. They weren’t rare, but they weren’t an uncommon occurrence. Deciding that you needed to step out for some air, you did so with the intent of getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Your fingers found the lights for the dimmers in your room, setting it to its lowest setting for you to see yourself out.

Cracking the door open, you were instantly met with the scene of HR passed out on the couch again. He’s been doing that for around two weeks now, the couch his new base of operations. His mouth was slightly open as little snores escaped him. A lovestruck smile crossed your features at the sight. Papers were littered around him, on the ground, and on the tables. Must be the manuscript he’s working on for his final draft. I hope I can read it at some point. Coming back from the kitchen with the water in hand you couldn’t help but stop to admire the sight. You noticed the glasses still perched on his face. Moving as silent as a ninja, you inched closer to pull off the glasses from his face. They’ll break if he keeps them on while he sleeps. Then he won’t see for shit when reading things. You nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes drifted to the papers. One peek won’t hurt anyone. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Seating yourself on the ground, you leaned your back against the foundation of the couch. You were opposite to where HR’s upper body was. If there were any telltale signs of him waking, you’d hightail out before he could fully wake up and process what you were doing. Picking up a small stack, you started sifting through them. Your mind became engrossed with the words – the beginnings of the story he had spun about his adventures as to how he came to Earth-1. Then… mentions of an angel eluded you. It couldn’t be Tracy, could it? I know they broke up, but… on the other hand, it doesn’t mean that he can’t say that she was his angel at the time. Like a character development thing leading to their break up?? Well fuck, I don’t even think he’d mention such a personal thing in his book. I know I wouldn’t… would I? I don’t know. A little smile danced at your lips while you read on about the synonymous things regarding Team Flash that you failed to notice HR rouse from sleep.

“Do you like it?” Lethargy intertwined his words. A stunned noise left you as you clutched the papers. You turned to see HR rubbing his eyes before gazing at you.

I could get lost in those eyes if I stared too long.

“Uh, yeah, its- it’s really good,” you stuttered, setting the papers down in your lap. Embarrassment of getting caught gripped you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind you taking a peek. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of in it.” HR shifted his lithe body to sit next to you on the ground.

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not that important, I’ll be ok.”

“If you say so,” HR’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m here if you want to talk.” You nodded at him, whispering a little thank you. HR ran a hand over his knee, he took a glimpse at you who stared at the papers. He noticed what chapter you hand been reading – the angel was making an appearance in the story. The hair at the back of his neck stood while you thumbed the words on the paper back in forth, just lost in your mind. Your hair was messy from sleep, the bags under your eyes were still there. It killed him how you wouldn’t confide in him anymore. But he didn’t push you. You would open up to him if you wanted to or not, even if he wanted you to do so as so his mind can be at ease with knowing what’s going on with you. Cisco’s question sprang up in his mind once more before he licked his lips, his eyes watching you. “I do.”

You gave HR a strange look. I do, what?

“Tracy wasn’t her.” Realization struck HR the more you whispered with him.

“Huh??”

“I heard this voice before I woke up.” The novelist fully turned to you with intense eyes, the enlightenment in them – the fire that burned brightly. “The tenderness in it could rival any tasteful delight in the multiverse.”

“A voice?”

“Mm, it made me think that only a heavenly deity would have such a voice.” You remained silent as he spoke. “I never got to hear that voice since my coma… until now?”

You tensed at what he was insinuating. “Now?”

“How could I forget?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“How could I forget about you?” The baritone huskiness in his voice made you melt with the way he said those words. You swallowed, trying to calm the butterflies that raged in the pit of your stomach. “The flowers that were left – beautiful, delicate, yet meaningful. You left those after visiting me.”

“…”

She didn’t deny it. “But you never visited when I was awake because of Tracy.”

“She hates me.”

“And I was too blind to see that until I broke up with her, she threw quite a fit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you must have loved her so much that it would be hard to let go.” She was your angel, after all.

“She didn’t even know me. Truly know me.”

“… Did she hurt you?”

“Slightly, but the bruise is gone.” You and he were silent for a moment. Only the sound of a distant car horn was heard from the streets. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“The flowers, the visit…” HR licked his lips as a rough breath left him. His nerves were climbing, but he needed to do this. “Cisco told me what you did to Savitar when you saw him. How angry you were that Harry had to pry you off him – I was so angry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know then… but I know now.”

“And?”

“Tracy was never the one written in my story – she didn’t care. She didn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face obsessed with coffee. You did.” HR tucked your hair behind your ear, carefully gauging your reaction. He saw how you tried not to flinch away from him. “Do you hate me?” He asked as he retracted a hand from you, happy that he was at least getting through to you.

“Never could I feel such a way towards you.” You hesitated for a moment before testing the waters. You started to explain, “I- the night you were stabbed by Savitar I… I just broke. I pushed Tracy away, I had Barry rush you back to the labs. You were dying, unconscious on the gurney and… I got to work trying to resuscitate you. I had Cisco take care of Tracy while I worked, I needed space to think clearly, but I couldn’t. When- when the others were preoccupied with Iris’ appearance, I used these powers.” It was now or never. “I was desperate. Your life was hanging by a thread- I didn’t think it was going to work, but nothing else was working. You were bleeding so much. But I had to try. I…” Your glassy eyes locked back on his, your hands pulled close to your body. HR understood now why you never tried touching him. Why you are avoiding getting too close. “Cisco found out, he confronted me. But these powers, life isn’t guaranteed. They’re volatile, unprecedented – regardless of how I feel in the moment the balance can tip between giving a life and taking one.” There was a tightness in your chest as your voice cracked, “I’m cursed, I could hurt you.” I’m dangerous.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” HR reached a hand out to hold yours. Tension filled your heart as panic started to settle. “You wouldn’t let yourself hurt me. It would pain you too much.” HR squeezed your slightly shaky hand, his other hand still bound by the cross-sling. “My life is in your hands.”

“How can you trust me so much?”

“Because love cannot be built without a foundation of trust.” He placed a sweet kiss on the knuckles of your hand. “And understanding.” He took the other and kissed it, baby blue eyes shifted back to yours with such intense emotion. The adoration that filled the author to the brim for you. Just for you. Only you. The one who saw him for everything and anything that he is. His safe space – the one other thing he wanted to be for you as well. He wanted to eliminate any fears that resided in your heart, the pain and doubt that remained.

“Do you hate me?”

HR cupped your cheek tenderly as he leaned close, your heart wanted to stop as blood rushed to your cheeks and ears. Your half-lidded eyes shut slowly as his lips skimmed over your own. “Never in my life, angel,” the novelist whispered as he captured your lips in a tender and sentimental kiss.

Never in my life could I hate the one who my heart has yearned for.

[savagetrickster]

Stay with Me | BNHA

request:  Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character:  bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou,  college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders. 

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him. 

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.” 

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week. 

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly,  finally looking away from the outside.  

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression. 

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell. 

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima. 

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm. 

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere. 

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce. 

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual. 

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.” 

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons. 

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks. 

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs. 

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron. 

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle. 

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else— 

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility. 

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope. 

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them. 

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin. 

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.  

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm. 

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth. 

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say, 

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?” 

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look. 

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him. 

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate. 

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you. 

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you. 

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

[sunjaesol]

jiara | drabble | post-s2 + john b is oblivious™ | title: changes // david bowie

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

John B had no clue when it happened, but suddenly he couldn't unsee it, and by then it was almost too embarrassing to ask.

Sarah has told him he was the biggest dreamer of all the Pogues (“And I love that about you! I swear!”), but that those tendencies usually made him understand the joke... last. Or apparently, how in the hell JJ and Kie got together.

He knew they were close — duh, P4L — but he had never made the connection that sharing a J would lead to Kie throwing her legs across JJ's lap and giggling in his shoulder. Yeah. Kie was giggling now.

It started when they were rescued from the island and resumed normal life, or as normal as a life for a Pogue good be. Sarah broke into her trust fund to afford an apartment for her and Cleo, Kie and Pope went home to their family, and JJ and John B found their way back to the Château. They all clung together, but he reckoned he'd been more focused on Sarah — they decided to lay off on the husband and wife thing for a bit — that he didn't notice JJ and Kie hanging out alone.

But Pope knew. Cleo knew. And Sarah definitely knew.

John B gawked at the pair from the threshold of the Château, perfectly able to see them snuggled up in the hammock. Sarah appeared behind him.

“What're you looking at?” she asked.

“Uh...” He scratched his cheek, confused. “JJ and Kiara... apparently.”

“Oh, yeah,” she breezily retorted, making him gaze at her in surprise. “They're cute, huh?”

“Whoa, you knew?!”

The girl chuckled and moved back inside. He followed her. “You didn't?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Wha– what about Pope?”

“I mean... it doesn't seem like Pope really cares,” she shrugged. Rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, she found a bag of tortilla chips and then went searching for salsa. “How did you not know?”

“'Cause I'm focused on you!” His arms spread out, unsure why he was so shocked, or if he was maybe ashamed he didn't see that JJ was whipped for Kie.

It actually made sense. They were both super slow, smoked weed and made the same terrible jokes. He was bad, but the two of them together? Worst fucking comedy special.

Dumping the chips in a bowl, Sarah sent him a sweet smile. The bandana necklace laid comfortably on her skin. “You should talk to JJ, after Kie's gone home. They probably thought you were aware of it all.”

If he really thought about it, he guessed he always kind of knew. They all, at one point, had a crush on her, but he never considered her to be attainable. (“No Pogue on Pogue macking!”) But JJ? He always flirted. He always looked at her, went for her, sought her out. Of course JJ liked her.

And the fact that Kie allowed JJ to pursue her, meant that their relationship was a big fucking deal. This was no summer fling.

(Man, John B really needed to get his head out of the clouds.)

“How long have you known?” he eventually asked, when both were seated outside on the plastic chairs. The couple swung nearby, their voices hushed and their laughter chiming in the sweet, humid air.

Sarah pondered for a moment. Her head was tilted towards the sun, its light filtering through the trees, and he wondered if JJ had that moment as well — where he looked at Kie and felt that quiet awe washing over him; what he always felt around Sarah.

“Well, Kiara's hot, he'd be an idiot if he wasn't into her,” she began, causing him to chuckle. “but... I think on the lifeboat? When Kiara saved him?”

He frowned. “Anyone of us would've saved him.”

“It's what happened when he gained consciousness, John B,” she gently explained. “He looked at her like she was a literal goddess. Major heart-eyes.”

“Really?”

“You are so blind!” she laughed. Her hand reached out to graze beneath his eyes. “Do you need glasses?”

“Bro! John B needs fuckin' glasses!” JJ yelled, having caught the tail end of their conversation. Kie's bright face popped up beside him.

“He's always squinting at the board,” Kie added. “At first it's endearing, but now...”

“Thanks, guys,” John B deadpanned, “so supportive.”

The two crawled out the hammock at the sight of the chips and six-packs of beers.

“What were you guys talking about?” John B casually probed as they plopped down opposite of them. Cleo and Pope would probably be here soon.

They shared a look, something he couldn't read — oh, man, they had their own lingo already? — and then JJ uttered, “Surfing.”

“Surfing?”

“That's it?” Sarah mused.

“And beaches. And bunk beds,” JJ continued with a lazy drawl. Kiara rolled her eyes and mumbled seriously? at Sarah, to which the girl grinned and shrugged.

Slapping her hand over JJ's mouth, Kie said, “It's just a dream at this point, but, like, maybe going on a surf trip one day.” A wry smile ticked up her lips. “With the gold we don't have.”

“Fuckin' Cameron,” JJ grumbled. “No offense, Sarah.”

“None taken.”

John B smirked, “She's a Routledge now.”

Sarah grimaced. “Really?”

“Babe!”

“It's a very specific name, JB,” she tried, but her amusement gave her away. There it was, exposed: he had a shit last name.

After Pope and Cleo arrived, they all moved to the boat and went out for a relaxed day in the marsh; free of dead bodies for once. John B lived for these days — him and his family, forged in fire and blood and shit talking, lounging in the sun as Kie played Marley from her speaker and passed the J around the group. Salt pricked his tongue and the buzz of booze got him all competitive with the boys.

Carpe diem, or whatever.

And that was when he got a clear picture of them. Of Kie and JJ curled together, her giggling in his shoulder and his wide grin solely fixed on her, how she later snatched the trucker hat from his head and used it to hide a smooch.

Sarah whistled regardless, Cleo catcalling along as John B snuck a glance at Pope. He seemed fine, like Sarah had said. Smiling, laughing, his face tilted to the sun and completely unbothered.

Damn, he'd been so clueless.

He carefully approached the subject that night, the two standing side by side in the cramped bathroom brushing their teeth. “So... you and Kie.”

“Yup,” he quipped.

“Cool.”

JJ eyed him through the mirror. “You good, bro?”

John B smirked, leaning against the wall. “Yeah. I just thought that 'door was closed'.”

“You and me both,” the boy puffed. It could be the piss yellow lighting, but John B believed he spotted a slight flush on the boy's cheeks.

He kept pushing. “So? It's going well? Gimme something, JJ.”

He was gone when Kie and Pope were trying to make it work and JJ never had a legit girlfriend (Haley from second grade didn't count), so he felt like he had to make up for lost time. JJ was his fucking brother. If someone had to act like a little shit, it was him.

His blue eyes narrowed to slits. Spitting out the toothpaste, he wiped off his mouth and didn't lose his distinct JJ swagger as he said, “She drives me damn crazy, but it's worth it. That enough?”

John B grinned. That was more than enough. His thumb and index finger pressed together and mumbled a toothy goodnight, shouldering past the blonde to his bedroom.

Kiara and JJ together. Maybe the biggest twist of all.

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: two

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 1.5k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: mentions of alcohol, hangovers, profanity, talk of sex, one-night stands

After a lot of deliberation and even more wine with Yachi, you both came to the conclusion that ignoring Suna and the one-night stand would be the best course of action. You were also hesitant to give back the National Team jersey you had taken, fearing that it would draw attention to what had conspired between you two.

Instead, you adopted the expensive jersey into your wardrobe. 

So now you sat, head thrown back over the edge of your couch, fifth glass of wine in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other, bright red jersey with a large 12 and Suna’s name emblazoned on the back haphazardly thrown over your body. It was a comfortable jersey, plus, it was laundry day. You would wash it before (if) you ever gave it back. 

Yachi stole the wine glass out of your hand before you could drain the rest of it. 

“What the fuuuuck, ‘Toka? I was almost finished!” 

Yachi just looked at you with a blank expression. “Y/n, you need to go to bed before you show up to your first day of work hungover. You’ll thank me in the morning. C’mon,” she grabbed your hands to pull you up, dragging you along all the way to your bedroom. 

You cuddled into the sheets, trying to ignore the smell of Suna’s cologne on the jersey and failing miserably. Yachi brought you a glass of water and painkillers, then turned off the lights and bid you goodnight. 

At least you knew why Suna was in Tokyo now. It made sense that he would make the National Team, and it was a major oversight on your part for accepting a job as a trainer for said team. However, there was nothing you could do now. You would just have to wait and see how it all played out. 

You tossed and turned before finally surrendering to the comfort of the jersey’s scent. It was easier to fall asleep when you could pretend someone was next to you, anyway. When you ultimately dozed off, it was to memories of your ex-boyfriend’s calming hugs and bright smile.

---

When you arrived at the National Team Training Center the next morning, you were anxiously waiting for Suna to corner you about Saturday night’s events. Instead, you were able to walk all the way down to your new office across from the locker rooms without seeing anyone else. You set down your purse and backpack in your new office, smiling at the Assistant Athletic Trainer plaque outside your door. Popping back out into the hallway, you dropped a coffee off with your boss, Iwaizumi Hajime, whose office was adjacent to your own. 

Practice didn’t start for another hour, giving you plenty of time to calm your nerves about seeing Suna. You booted up your laptop and began preparing the players’ training regimens. After about thirty minutes, Atsumu strolled into your office. 

“Hey, y/n!”

“‘Tsumu!” He wrapped you in a big hug, lifting you off the ground and causing you to giggle.

“How’ve you been?” He set you back down and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Good! Lots of prepping for this new job, making sure all of your workouts are in order.” You gave Atsumu a light punch in the arm. You had missed joking around with him. Before you moved away from Hyogo, he was one of your best friends.

“Well, I hope it goes well. Hey, speaking of which, my shoulder has been kinda sore lately, think you could massage it for me?”

You just rolled your eyes and nodded. Of course, Atsumu would use your new position to his advantage. You could already tell that these next few weeks would be full of Atsumu begging for back massages when he didn’t really need them. On the bright side, at least if he was trying to scavenge a massage from you, Suna probably didn’t mention anything to him.

“Let’s go out to the court, practice is about to start. I’ll do it out there so that we aren’t late.”

Atsumu nodded, so you grabbed your backpack with your medical supplies and followed his lead to the court. You dropped your stuff at the bench and motioned for him to sit down. As you worked on his shoulder (his muscles were kind of tight after all), he talked about the temporary move to Tokyo and preparations for the upcoming Olympics. It was only April, but the competition would be here before anyone knew it. At least the team had the benefit of being at home for the duration of the Olympics. You couldn’t imagine having to adjust to a new timezone before competing at an international level. 

As you two talked, more players began to filter in. Iwaizumi came out to check on you, scolding Atsumu for taking advantage of your trainer status, to which you just laughed. 

“It’s fine, I promise. If I really minded, I would’ve told him to leave.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Iwaizumi looked at his watch, “Shit, I gotta go. It’ll probably be just you out here for most of the morning, y/n. I have a ton of meetings and work to catch up on, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! I can handle it, don’t worry.” You smiled, trying to conceal the large amount of fear you still held for interacting with a certain middle blocker. Iwaizumi gave you a grin before turning and walking back towards his office. 

Atsumu smirked at you, “He totally thinks you’re hot.”

You punched Atsumu in the shoulder, hard. “Shut the fuck up! And he does not, he’s gay, and he’s fucking married!” 

“Hm, what a bummer. You’re too tense, you need to get laid.”

Your eyes widened as you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Atsumu!”

“Hey Atsumu, y/n, long time no see.”

Your heart dropped as you turned towards the unmistakable voice, one hand still on Atsumu’s mouth. 

“Sunarin! What’s up?” Atsumu shrugged your hand off as he stood and gave Suna a half-hug. You stood to the side, slowly inching towards your backpack as a means of escape. If Suna turned his attention to you, you could just busy yourself with whatever you had in there. 

“Fuck, y/n, it’s been forever since I last saw you.” You looked up at Suna, schooling your expression into something resembling calm, cool, and collected and ignoring the pounding of your heart. 

You gave a half-hearted laugh, “Yeah.” Suna flashed you one of his signature grins, and you nearly choked on air. Why was he so attractive?

“You’re still as beautiful as ever.” Fuck. “So this is what you’re up to nowadays?”

“Yep!” You allowed a little grin to slip through. “Living the dream as an assistant athletic trainer!”

“That’s awesome. I always knew you would do something great.” Oh my God. “Well, it looks like practice is about to start. We should go out sometime, catch up! It’s been years since we’ve talked.”

You nodded and watched as he jogged over to where some other players were stretching, then turned and buried your face in your hands. What the fuck. He didn’t remember Saturday. That was good. Now you just had to play it cool around him, and everything would be fine.

You felt an arm settle itself on your shoulder. “He totally thinks you’re hot.”

“Atsumu, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The man in question quickly removed his arm from your shoulder, giving you a questioning look. “The fuck is your problem with him? I know you two still have whatever from high school that’s unresolved, but you look like you want to die on the spot right now.”

“If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.” You could already tell you were going to regret this.

Atsumu brought his hand up with a cheesy grin on his face. “I solemnly swear. Now tell me.”

You sighed and internally cringed. You couldn’t believe you were about to tell Atsumu this. “On Saturday night, I got drunk and woke up in Suna’s bed,” you watched as Atsumu’s jaw dropped, “And he doesn’t remember anything, thank God.”

“Holy fucking shit, y/n!”

“Keep your fucking voice down!”

“Wait, wait, wait, it gets better,” you winced as you prepared yourself for whatever bad news Atsumu was about to bring, “He called me Sunday morning, talking about a ripped skirt and a bra some chick left, and that she stole his National Team jersey. You’re telling me that was you?”

Grimacing, you nodded.

“Damn, y/n. You’re screwed.”

You nodded again.

---

After a morning of tough practice, you were finally enjoying some peace and quiet at your desk. You ate the bento Yachi packed for you (she was a literal angel) and tried to avoid thinking about how hot Suna looked while practicing today. You couldn’t stop staring at him; every time you looked away, you somehow found yourself looking in his direction again.

Your buzzing phone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Osamu’s laughing voice filled the tiny speaker. 

“Y/n! You slept with Sunarin! And he doesn’t even remember!”

You were going to murder Miya Atsumu. 

taglist: @sunasexual​ @call-me-lulu​ 

[adonis-koo]

to the moon and back

Summary: Sometimes the distance in relationships really does make a strain and sometimes...it can really make quite the experience, at least in your experience with your boyfriend who only lives half way across the world...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, theres like,,,implied Taehyung/Reader if you really squint

Genre: angst, smut,

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: long distance relationship that I accidentally projected way too much of my own personal experience into 😃, Jungkook just really loves MC, skype sex, I am sorry, mutual masturbation, a little praise kink, Jungkook says baby in korean a lot and once again I am sorry, sex toys, a lil overstim, nothing too crazy tbh, dirty talk, dom!jungkook and sub!MC 🤑

Note: I missed ldr!Jungkook and MC which is based off this sorta imagine I did for them! So I cured it by writing a lil bit about them!! :)

“Hey Jungkook…” 

The said man in question suddenly perked up from where he had been looking down, half his hair tied up and he was rubbing his eyes, he looked tired these days and sometimes you couldn’t help but feel bad. Long distance relationships weren’t always what they were cracked up to be and it wasn’t like you were intentionally looking for a ball and chain at the time...

But well, it was a long night, you were slightly drunk and in a long dry spell so you thought, what the hell? When you signed up for a sub/dom dating website. Again, your intentions weren’t to actually date someone, you were just slightly drunk and horny, and waking up the morning after your phone had been blown up by your now boyfriend. It was innocent at first, you both had a good laugh (to somewhat of your embarrassment) about the whole drunk thing and you were just curious to get to know him. 

It was from there you had learned he lived halfway across the planet in South Korea and not only this but when you began exchanging photos he was by far the most beautiful man you had ever seen. One thing led to another and eventually you both decided to make it official. 

You were used to this of course, you had never actually met him in person and sometimes you felt a little apprehensive to do so, you knew it would hurt Jungkook severely if he ever found out but still...sometimes it felt like you just didn’t know him as much as you wanted too. 

Time zones were a literal hell, by the time you woke up he was getting ready to sleep and most the time texts weren’t sent until the next day, video calls were rare and usually had to wait until the weekend. It sucked. 

Jungkook, if anything, had been trying to convince you to at least fly out to see him, he even offered to pay for your ticket as he was- ahem- apparently in the chain of business for a really well known exports corporation and was a supervisor so he lived very well off in comparison to yourself, who was still in college and buried in debt with little to no money left outside of the expenses of living. 

But again, you were just...nervous...flying by yourself, to a country you had never been too, to meet a man you had never met...You knew realistically everything would be fine, Jungkook was exactly who he said he was, he wasn’t some criminal that was going to murder you and sell your body parts on the black market but…! You just wanted to be safe! To be careful even if that would never happen. 

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed, it was a late saturday night for him but he always stayed up just for you, just to be able to talk to you, to see your face, even if you went hours not talking to one another while he worked and you studied. He told you he just enjoyed looking over at his monitor and seeing you.

Currently you had been curled up on your pillow scrolling on your phone and occasionally admiring your boyfriend’s side profile and strands of hair long hair that fell from his face, “Why did you learn English?”

Jungkook raised his brow a little before suddenly laughing causing you to shift a little in embarrassment feeling as though you had said something dumb, “Well,” He rasped a little, he had been brushing up on his english ever since you started dating but he was also a little self conscious of his accent despite you saying several times over how much you adored it, “English is mandatory to learn in school but I learned extensively due to my family traveling a lot for business and work. I once spent a whole year in New York when my father was employed overseas, that was actually how I became so fluent, classes are fine but experience always teaches best in my opinion....” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smile as he hummed once more, “Which means your studies in Korean would be easier if you visited…” 

Flustered you rolled onto your back as you pressed your pillow against your face, “Jungkook…!” You whined wiggling in your best as you heard his laugh filter through the speaker, “I need you know I really need to stay and study for my finals, it makes up for over forty percent of my grade!” 

“Not even for winter break?” Jungkook let his lips jut into a pout as he laid his chin against his hand, “Jagi I have a bed that’s way too big to sleep in all by myself, are you gonna make me downgrade?” He sighed dramatically as he fell back in his computer chair pulling his hair tie out as his hair fell at his cheeks as he began to fix it. 

You ignored the heat immediately flushing between your legs at the deep rasp of his voice, “My mom’s expecting me to come home to visit for the holidays Koo…” You frowned as you peeped out from behind your pillow to find the massive pout on your boyfriend's face as he sunk in his seat. 

“Sometimes I think you’re just embarrassed to tell people we’re in a relationship,” Jungkook mumbled as he sat up in his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he sulked, obviously trying not to let your rejection make him upset but even through a screen you could always read his moods, sometimes too easily. 

“That is not true!” Your voice was immediately serious as you sat up, fixing your laptop as you set it in front of you, Jungkook was once more slouched in his seat, his hand resting on his cheek as he looked away from the screen, “That is not true Jungkook, I-...” You sighed, “I can’t just drop all my responsibilities here to visit you, you know this, you know hard I’ve been studying for finals and how much my family has been wanting to see me…” 

Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment but you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a scoff escape his lips, “But you still haven’t told your family...have you?” 

“I haven’t had the chance…” You were immediately trying to defend your reasoning when deep down you felt bad that well...he was right...to a degree, but what were you supposed to tell you family? You met your boyfriend on an offshoot website based around sexual play and not only this but he lived half way around the world. 

“You talk to your mom on the phone weekly Y/n,” The longer Jungkook looked away from the screen the more upset he was getting and you could tell and yet you felt so helpless, it wasn’t like you could just reach over and grab his face, or simply hug him and apologize. Once again, you found yourself at a loss of what to do or say. 

It wasn’t that you wished you hadn’t met Jungkook, you’d never in your life change that night, but sometimes you wished things weren’t so complicated and that your fears wouldn’t get the best of you. And you did speak some truth, even if you weren’t nervous to meet Jungkook in person, it didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t be able to go now with finals approaching and your family expecting you for the holidays.

“I’m just,” Jungkook inhaled sharply before letting out a sigh, “I just feel so frustrated sometimes, I want to be with you, not part time, half time, or only at night. I want to wake up with you in my arms every single day. And I can’t do that, hell I can’t even get a phone call during the week let alone a text at the same time of day if I’m lucky. We just had a work party where everyone brought their partners and I couldn’t bring mine because she lives in America.” 

His upset was beginning to make you upset, it felt like your gut was being grinded and it wrenched in an unpleasant feeling as you spoke, “Look I’m sorry okay? I can’t help it that this is where I live, I understand you want to be with me, you don’t think I want the same thing?” You put your hand on your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you swallowed harshly, “But right now, I can’t help it Jungkook. The holidays just aren’t a good time right now…” 

“Then what was the excuse during the end of the summer when you weren’t even in school and your parents didn’t want to see you?” Jungkook replied, his jaw clenched and hurt in his eyes as he questioned you, “Or was it still because you were sick in the middle of july?” 

“I just met you!” You cried out now beginning to feel genuinely hurt at your boyfriend questioning the sincerity of your feelings, “I wasn’t going to fly out to Korea to meet someone I had only been talking to for three weeks! Jungkook this is-” 

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you! God, that is literally the last thing on my mind right now! I’m embarrassed at the way we met, I’m embarrassed that I- I somehow have to explain to my family that my boyfriend lives in South Korea and that I’ve never met him and somehow explain to them that you aren’t some serial rapist or human trafficker out to sell my kidney! Because that’s exactly what I’m going to hear! And I’m sorry I just haven’t been ready to deal with that!” You couldn’t even stop the tears from flowing down your face as you pressed your hands to your eyes, “It’s easy for you to talk about us because you’re an adult who lives debt free by himself in his own apartment with your own secure job and you don’t have to answer or deal with anyone, even your own parents! That’s not how it is for me Jungkook.” 

Your head was lowered as you tried to muffle your sobs that was the only thing that filled the loud silence that filtered the air, running your hands through your hair as you took a breath. You could hear a sigh on the other side before Jungkook spoke, “Y/n…” 

“You know what,” You sniffled as you straightened up, “I’m not in the mood to talk anymore,” 

“Y/n! No! Jagi listen-” 

“No I’m done!” You argued back as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoody, “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Goodnight.” You clicked the end call button before closing down your laptop. Sitting now, staring at your distinct reflection on the black screen before bursting into a new set of tears. 

Your phone’s ringtone was immediately set off as you sobbed, picking it up as you harshly punched the decline call button before it quickly popped back up on the screen only for you to press it even more vehemently. Your phone lit up several times being flooded with messages from Jungkook trying to convince you to talk to him but you immediately turned off your phone as you collapsed back against your bed, weeping against your pillow as you tried to ignore the pure hurt that filtered your veins despite it being justified. 

God you shouldn’t have even said any of that to Jungkook! Really it was your fault you hadn’t seen him, you had made excuses all because you were just scared. He was probably going to break up with you now...Squeezing your pillow tight you closed your eyes as you muffled your sobs. 

“Girl why are you staring at your phone?” Lisa sighed in exasperation, “Don’t tell me…Oh shit…” She sighed as she watched your eyes begin to pitfully water, “What was it this time?” 

“I’m a horrible person be-because I can’t just fucking suck it up and tell my family about my boyfriend and- and I can’t just go visit him!” You were already wiping your eyes despite not even crying yet and you refused to ruin your mascara in a public store. The bookstore was quiet as ever and the barista who worked the cafe was still sorting magazines out on the rack not even paying attention to you both but still you had to keep up your ideals or else you’d be crying all the time. 

“You are not a horrible person oh my god!” Lisa raised her brows before scoffing, she pointed a long acrylic nail at you as she spoke, “That boy needs to calm his hormones, you are strapped for the rest of the holidays. Y/n! Come on, seriously you need to draw some boundaries with him! Just be honest and it’s going to save you both a lot of trouble.” 

You sunk in your seat as your lips began to tremble making Lisa sigh, “How many messages did he send this time?” 

“Twenty four.” You mumbled. 

“Jesus Christ.” Lisa groaned as she pressed her hand against her forehead, her bangs which had been melded together with hairspray not even moving an inch, “What even started this fight!?” 

Lisa was not only your closest friend but most times she was also your voice of reason which you knew was most times right but still you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you twirled your straw that poked through the lid of your iced coffee, “Well it was innocent at first, I just asked him why he learned English when he was younger and it translated into him saying experience taught him best which meant going to Korea would help me with my own language studies.” 

“Why can’t you just be honest with him!? Seriously! Y/n!” She gave you her premium disappointed look as you whined, kicking your feet as you covered your hands over your face knowing she was right, but!

“That would literally crush him!” You replied feeling defeated as you slumped in your seat once more, sighing as sadness filled you, “It feels like…” You poked your tongue into your cheek as you exhaled in frustration, “No matter how hard I try, I just always end up hurting him. Jungkook would be so hurt if he knew my main reason for not wanting to see him.” 

Lisa raised her brows as she scoffed, “No he would not! If he’s so desperate to jump on your pussy he’ll come to America and not only meet you but he’ll be meeting me as well the first time. This relationship is a two way street Y/n-” 

“He has a whole team he’s managing Lisa, he’s told me he’d visit if he could schedule the time off but-” 

“All I hear is an excuse,” Lisa clacked her tongue, “Fair is fair, you’re just being cautious as anyone should be when they’re talking to someone over the internet,” She curved a brow before snorting as she sipped her drink, “Now listen, do I think he’s a kidnapper that’s gonna kill you? No. Do I think he’s a fuckboy that just really wants to smash you? Maybe, it’s your relationship. Do what you want but regardless of whether your reasoning is legit he should respect it regardless.” 

You deflated as you sighed, scrolling through his messages where he had profusely apologized several times and went on to explain that he just really wanted to be with you and never meant to dismiss your feelings on the matter. You hadn’t replied yet which made you feel even worse but truthfully, you just really wanted to talk to see him tonight on a video call and talk things over. 

“Anyways, it’s time to boss up bitch,” Lisa pulled out the three textbooks from her bag before dropping them on the table as she offered a smile, “We got finals to prep for, we’re in the two week countdown so we need to cram as much as possible.” 

Sighing you glanced down at your phone one last time before turning it off knowing the temptation to look over Jungkook’s messages would be too tempting. Putting your phone away you pulled out your notebook along with your own textbooks as you nodded, “You’re right, it’ll at least take my mind off of it…” 

You could only hope. 

You had spent the last ten minutes trying to gas yourself up, Jungkook had stopped texting around lunch time having obviously given up and giving you space as this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and he knew if he just gave you time you’d eventually reach out to him. 

Like right now, except you felt severely embarrassed for your actions this morning and you knew you could have handled things in a better and more mature way then you had, regardless you were struggling to even send a text at the moment let alone video call him...Checking the clock on your phone you sighed, it was already 1pm in Seoul....

Jungkook if anything was probably on his computer sulking while playing video games as he usually did on his weekends off when he wasn’t talking to you. Sucking in a breath you knew you needed to talk to him now because if you didn’t you’d have to go the whole week with stale texts that never went over well and you weren’t working with much to begin with, you didn’t want to make it worse. Sighing, you sat down on your bed as you began to type.

[10:25]

‘I’m sorry I haven’t replied to any of your messages :( can you video right now?’

You chewed on your lip anxiety immediately spiking in your head as you wondered if you came across too much like a victim...Or maybe you should’ve just not mentioned the not replying to his messages and just asked if- 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the skype call sounding with Jungkook’s name under it, grabbing your chest you collapsed onto the bed as you made yourself comfortable, shying away from the camera as you grabbed your pillow in insecurity before accepting the call. 

“I really am sorry Jagi,” You couldn’t even open your mouth before Jungkook’s worried expression showed up on your laptop, the hoodie covering his head and just as you expected his puppy like eyes were glossed and filled with sadness, “I- I didn’t realize how much stress you were under and I shouldn’t have been so careless. This is the only time during the week that I get to see you and I really don’t want to argue…” 

You curled up against your pillow as you mumbled, “I should be the one apologizing, I know how much it means to you for us to be able to see each other in person and I need to make the time for us to be able to do that it’s just…” You had meant to tell him the truth but- “I just have a lot going on right now but I didn’t mean to take that out on you, I know you just want us to be together...” 

“Oh jagiya,” Jungkook sighed, longing filled his face and his fingers twitched a little as they ran through his hair as if wishing he could just hold you close to him, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you wanted to talk. I didn’t want the whole week to drag by without being able to talk to you, you know you always make my day better…” 

And just like that your chest blossomed with warmth as you curled up, hiding the smile that began to creep on your lips as you squeezed your pillow, “Not as much as you make my day. Especially when you send those tease pictures for me right before I need to go to bed.” You would never get enough of that addictive feeling of talking to Jungkook, his smile was always infectious.

And just like that you watch, just like every other time, in amazement at the way Jungkook’s personality switches like a light, the innocent sweet smile that was once on his lips is suddenly twisted into a cocky smirk and he leans back his chair, his long hair is slightly messy but just enough to make him look truly wicked, “Oh? Is that right gongjunim? I thought you’d appreciate it?” 

Said photo in question was sent thursday night when you were prepping for bed and Jungkook had very obviously just gotten out of the shower in the mirror selfie he had sent that displayed the chiseled abdomen and broad chest and not to mention the….ahem package he was sporting beneath the thin towel that he had purposely clutched with his free hand. 

Yeah...that nearly destroyed your right hand. 

“Well I did…” You immediately coiled up, no matter how many times this happens with your boyfriend- which is nearly every weekend, you always end up getting shy despite your thighs furiously pressing together and wetness building up in your panties, “Maybe a little too much…” 

Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as his smirk widened, just his stare made you press your face into the pillow as you heard his chuckle, “What? What did you do?” 

The fact that he skipped to the golden question made you whine as you kicked your feet, you could hear another laugh from him as you curled up once more, “You know…” You mumbled, feeling your face burn as you pressed it against the pillow. 

“No baby I don’t.” Jungkook pouted but his voice rasped and something about saying baby in english with that accent of his had your fingers twitching as he puffed a breath of air in cockiness as he hummed, “Why don’t you tell me hm?” 

Shifting against the bed you shook your head, “You know what I’m talking about…” 

“Do I?” Jungkook challenged as he raised a brow, his beginning to clench as he slipped into his dominant headspace, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he asked, “If you can’t use your words would you rather show me? Be a good girl and show me, yeah?” 

Your words were muffled as you replied, “I had help…” Your face felt like it was practically on fire as you rubbed your legs together as you heard him laugh, “Then be a good girl and go get it jagiya, I’ll still be here.” You gave Jungkook a good laugh as you nearly scrambled out of bed to get your bullet vibrator off it’s charger before diving back on the bed making your laptop bounce as you sat up right. 

Jungkook meanwhile had pulled off his sweatshirt and repositioned his camera to expose his lower body, the familiar sight of his plump cherry lips exposed in that forever tainted smirk as he made himself comfortable in his chair, his thighs spreading apart and the indent in his sweats showing off proudly, “Good girl kitty, now I want you to take off your clothes, all of it.” 

You wiggled in your comfy sweatshirt feeling a little shy as you began to shed your clothes, “The bra too baby,” Jungkook coaxed as he licked his lips, his cock tightening and becoming harder at the sight of your flustered, shy expression as you unhooked your bra, there was nothing more this man wanted then to suckle on your nipples that immediately hardened against the chilled air of the room. 

Jungkook’s hand found its way to his bulge as he palmed himself through his grey sweats, “Panties too baby, I know you’re shy but you need to be a good girl and take them off. And remember your words.” He added with a low growl. 

“...Yes sir.” You mumbled, feeling chilly and exposed to nothing more then the camera on your laptop and Jungkook of course before you pulled off the panties you wore, arousal sticking to the fabric that stringed before you tossed them aside, your eyes unable to stay off his hand that kept stroking his bulge. 

“Good girl,” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, “Now spread your legs jagiya and show me what you did to that photo I sent you, every little detail baby.” You whined as you looked away from the camera, “Jagiya…” Jungkook’s voice deepened a little in warning, “Are you gonna make me get out the controller?” 

Outwardly you’d completely deny that but inwardly....The idea nearly had you frothing out the mouth, but reluctantly you did as he asked, the chilled air nipping at your exposed warm wet folds had your levels of arousal that much higher and you could hear a soft verbal moan from Jungkook as he squeezed his hand over his cock, “Shibal,” He muttered a few other words in korean that you could only half make out before he spoke once more, “You’re so fucking wet baby. Play with yourself, don’t make me wait.” 

Tenderly you slipped your hand between your thighs, flinching a little at the cold that seeped from your fingers that met in opposition to the heat radiating off your cunt, arousal met your fingertips as you dragged them up you slit before rubbing slow circles around your clit, your lips parting a little at the idea of it being his fingers doing this to you.

Jungkook let out a little scoffed laugh, licking his lips as he pulled down his sweats just enough to free his throbbing cock, a sight you’d never fully get used too and had your mouth watering at just the sight. He was much thicker then he was long but he certainly wasn’t short, the vein on the underside of his cock displayed and you could even see his tip beginning to weep as it became red, “How bad do you wish those were my fingers playing with that little clit baby? Put those fingers inside your cunt baby,lay back and use your toy to make yourself feel good for me.

Situating your laptop before you laidback, opening your legs once more as you began to transition to your subspace as you closed your eyes, imagining his fingers dragging up your inner thighs. 

Letting your eyes open you whined at the sight of lube slipping from his cock as his hand slowly pumped his shaft, his lips parted at the sight of one finger slipping inside your cunt before pulling out and adding a second finger. You could just imagine those long thick fingers filling you up while fitting up against your g-spot. 

Fumbling with your vibrator you turned it on, switching the setting to a low pattern before carefully placing it on your aching bud. You had anticipated your reaction just as you did everytime and yet every time you still jolted, your walls tightly squeezing around your fingers as a whined squeak escaped your lips. 

“Fuck princess that’s it,” Jungkook edged you on, his tongue in his cheek as his hand squeezed around his cock before he used his free hand to grab his own toy, the fleshlight that nearly always turned you into a mess, “Bet that little hole can hardly fit your own fingers let alone my big fat cock, right baby? Yeah?” 

Your thighs were twitching as pleasure was rapidly buzzing against your clit and your walls kept squeezing around your fingers as you desperately tried to reach to your g-spot in need for an orgarsm to make up for all the anxiety and stress you had been under the whole day, “Yes! Yes sir! Ah- Mmph need you! Fuck, please! Sir.” You whimpered as your hips jolted to fuck back against your fingers.

 Jungkook pushes the opening of the flashlight over his tip as he let out a soft moan, his hips fluidly began thrusting to the point your walls were so tight you could hardly move your fingers just at the idea of his cock forcing its way inside you, you just knew this mans stroke game was good and proved it every fucking time he took out that toy.

Watching his cock disappear with every thrust inside his toy as his lips parted a little wider this time, “You want this baby? You wish this was your pussy I’m fucking nice and deep?”

Your body was too excited for all of his dirty talk as you squirmed shifting the buzzing vibrator to the sweet spot of your clit as you squeaked, trying to keep yourself from being too loud as your roommate was home, “Want it! Want it so fucking bad! Please sir! Sir!”

You were embarrassingly horny and this made worked you up every single time, your hips we’re stumbled and your walls were rapidly clenching in excitement as his thick cock rocking it’s way in and out of the toy that you could just imagine was your pussy he was fucking nice and slow, making you feel his nice fat cock with every killer slow thrust.

“Oh Jagiya,” Jungkook moaned out, “Don’t tell me my kitten is already close?” He chuckled as he watched the way your body withered the way it always did when you were close, his eyes feasting on the way your pussy was stretched so delicately against your small fingers and the way your thighs clenched and your feet kicked, “Do you need to cum so soon?” 

“Please! Please! Sir! I- I don’t think I can-“ Your thighs clamped together as your lips fell open, unable to even wait for his blessing as your orgasm ripped through your body, your toes curling as little whimpers escaped you, you could hear a long moan from Jungkook as you liddedly watched his hips stumble against his flesh light, hand running through his hair while he fumbled something in Korean. 

“Baby fuuck,” Jungkook’s voice lowered as he moaned, “Cum again princess, cum for me baby I wanna hear you make those noises again for me. Keep those little fingers stuffed inside yourself.” Jungkook’s hips kept stuttering against his toy, his cock throbbing desperate as his moans became breathy at the sight of you obeying him. You were always such a good girl.

Your fingers were aching but your desire to watch him come undone was even greater as you began pushing your fingers back against your g-spot once more, feathery whines escaping you at the feeling of pain beginning to mix with pleasure at the consistent thrum of the vibrator against your clit.

“Ah! S-sir…!” You whimpered quietly as your walls suddenly clamped around your fingers once more, “I- ah! I don’t think I can…!” 

“Yes you can,” Jungkook growled his hips bucking up into his toys faster his cock throbbing and squeezing in pleasure at the sight of your arousal slipping from your soaked cunt and the sight of your tits bouncing at the way your body kept squirming, he could only imagine what it would be like fucking you tied up and left to his mercy, “And you will,” He snapped with command, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me again princess. I wasn’t fucking asking.” 

Your legs immediately twitched and your breath hitched as you cried out, your back arching at the way your body listened to him so easily on command, your walls tightening around your fingers rapidly and pleasure seered into your clit as the orgasm roughly filled your body, “Ah Jungkook! Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Fuck! Ooh!” Moans escaped you louder then you intended as your hips desperately fucked into your fingers to ride the powerful orgasm you experienced.

Jungkook moaned softly as his hips bucked one last time into his toy before cum was filling it up at the idea of milking all of himself in your little warm cunt, letting his hips swivel as he milked every last drop of cum from his cock as he moaned before relaxing back in his chair.

Chuckling a little at watching your lower body scramble at your vibrator continuing to drill against your over stimulated clit as you struggled to turn it off, “Take your fingers out baby, I wanna see them.” Jungkook licked his lips as you obeyed him, pulling your fingers from your cunt to reveal the thick layer of arousal and cum on them nearly making Jungkook’s mouth water with the desire to lick every drop off your fingers, this man couldn’t even describe what he’d do to go down on you.

“Ah fuck, jagiya,” Jungkook laughed, a little flustered at the way you sat up, looking directly into the camera before putting your fingers in your mouth, licking off the salty and somewhat musky taste of your arousal which in your opinion wasn’t that great and Jungkook would never accept your opinion on the matter, “You’re gonna make me hard all over again.” He whined as he carefully pulled the toy off his cock, feeling the white substance already rolling down his softening shaft to reveal the mess he had made.

You giggled a little, feeling shy once more as you stood up with wobbling legs, “I don’t have to help with that.” You called out, grabbing your favorite sweatshirt to pull over your body. It was your favorite because...Well because Jungkook had sent it to you and because it was big on him it was massive on you. 

You absolutely adored it, coming back in view you collapsed onto your bed as you curled up, Jungkook had just finished cleaning himself up, fixing his camera for you to see the beautiful radiant smile and eyes light up that was your boyfriend. He always had that dreamy look in his eyes while looking at you everytime you finished having Skype sex and everytime it always made you shy as you grabbed your pillow and curled up.

“You’re always so fucking good baby,” He groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, his smile permanently on his face as he stared in adoration at your curled up figure that was practically buried in his sweatshirt, “Mmm you were such a good girl too, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when I told you to cum again.” 

He had a boyish laugh at the way you curled up, “Stoop! You know I was already overstimulated, you better hope my roommate didn’t hear anything…!” You covered your face in embarrassment at the realization you were a little loud.

Jungkook’s face stiffened a little at the mention of your roommate before he tried to play it off with a small laugh, “Yeah well, what’s he gonna do about it anyways? You were just being my good little girl jagiya.” You covered your face in semi embarrassment. You knew Jungkook was redirecting the conversation back to verbal aftercare because you knew he didn’t like the fact that your roommate was a guy who was not only your age but also very attractive. 

It wasn’t like Taehyung was ever interested in you, but you had mentioned to Jungkook when you first started talking that you used to have a crush on him. You felt as though some days that still lingered in Jungkook’s mind despite the fact that you didn’t even look at Taehyung twice anymore.

Especially since you and Jungkook became an item, however you also hadn’t told Jungkook that Taehyung had been...Well you weren’t sure what he was doing to be honest outside a few innuendos and winks. It mainly weirded you out as he had never paid any attention to you but regardless. This wasn’t about your roommate, this was about your amazing, handsome boyfriend who somehow managed to make you cum twice just by the sound of his voice, not everything could do that.

“You make it difficult to try and disobey.” You mumbled as a smile tugged in your lips, closing your eyes at the idea of his arms wrapped tight around you and his forehead pressed against your own, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face and his lips pressing against your forehead.

“Mmm id like to see you try,” Jungkook laughed as he leaned back his seat, letting out a content sigh as he spoke, “I’d make you wear those vibrating panties the whole day after making you overestimate yourself and I’d make sure to wake up every hour just to hold that button for three minutes straight.” 

“You’re so mean!” You whines as you fluttered your feet before crawling under your covers as you yawned, “You’re already planning a punishment when I haven’t even done anything wrong.” 

“I’m not!” Jungkook laughed as he objected, moving his hair from his face, “I’m just telling you what would’ve happened if you weren’t obedient. I mean, that’s not always a bad thing baby.” He sent a wink your way that immediately made your cheeks warm as you pressed your face against the blanket with a giggle.

“I can’t do that over a video call…! Maybe if you were here in my bed I’d be a little more defiant.” You always had a hard time trying to flirt confidently but Jungkook always ate it up every single time you threw him a crumb.

“Jagiya if you can’t be defiant over a call what makes you think you’d manage it when I’m between your legs sucking the soul out of your pussy?” Jungkook was immediately cackling at the way you shoved your face into your pillow with a whine, “Exactly baby, you can’t even look at me right now.” He cooed out.

“Well maybe I’m just a little more bold in person.” You challenged, peeping out from behind your pillow making Jungkook chuckle as he shook his head, his eyes filled with adoration as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well sweetheart I’ll just have to see for myself one day huh?” Jungkook’s smile was so beautiful, it was arguably one of your favorite features as he spoke, “You know I love you to the moon and back jagiya.”

“Well I love you love you to the stars and beyond,” You whispered back as you hugged your pillow close, closing your eyes sleepily as you smiled….One day...Hopefully you’d overcome your anxiety soon to make the one day become soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand being apart from the one person who would never stop making your day.

[odd-birds-and-booksellers]

True love survives arguments. Sometimes it even survives break-ups, so you have to live, and then you have to fight for him. Just hold on and fight. In which Jo calls Alex and he actually picks up.

“Alex, I need you to call me or so help me, I will fly to where you are and…”

Jo snaps, she'd been practicing her speech over and over in her head all day, she’d not even considered what she’d do if he actually answered. Which much to her surprise he had…it had taken her moment to even notice she wasn’t listening to the familiar sound of his voicemail but instead the sound of his steady breaths.

“You answered?” She mutters almost in disbelief as she pushes herself up off the couch, pacing around the loft. All she’d wanted all week was for him to answer and now he has the silence is deafening.

“I know you said you were going through something and that you needed time and I wanna give it to you I do, but I spent a lot of the last year pushing you away…”

“Jo…” she pauses as the sound of his voice comes over the line. She has to cover her mouth to stop herself from crying out, three weeks he’d been gone, three weeks of sitting by the phone, three weeks of not hearing his voice. Three weeks of conjuring up the worst possible scenario.

She takes a shaky breath, leaning against the cold window. She needs to get the rest of her speech out before she loses her nerve before she breaks down and begs him to come home. “I know it wasn’t my fault but I did, I pushed you away, but you held onto me then. You did, you held on and you refused to let me go or give up on me. You held on to me. So I’m holding on to you, I’m holding on for dear life.”

It’s quiet for a moment. So quiet she thinks he might have hung up but a quick glance down at her phone screen shows they’re still connected.

“It’s not that easy Jo.” He sounds tired, defeated maybe…either way, it turns her stomach.

“I love you.” She whispers, gripping the phone tighter in her hand. Her eyes watering as she hears his low sigh, like that was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Alex, I love you and whatever this is, whatever you’re going through I wanna go through it with you.”

They fall silent once more. Jo grips to her phone like she’s gripping onto him.

“I love you too.” Jo closes her eyes savoring his words. It should fill her with relief but she knows the but is coming. She thinks back through all her fears, all the scenarios that she’s conjured up these past few weeks. He loves her…he still loves her, so can it really ever be that bad?

“You do?”

“Always.” He confirms.

“Then talk to me, just talk to me. I’m right here.” There’s desperation in her voice as she pleads with him. “For better or worse….”

“What?”

“For better or worse.” They’ve promised it to each other more times than she can count at this point. On a ferry boat in June in front of all their friends. They whispered it against each other's bare skin late into the night. They’ve muttered it in passing on a busy workday when the world felt like it was caving in. He’d promised her it outside the facility the day she was released and he’d promised it to her again just over a month ago in the courthouse.

“Did you mean that?” Jo asks, she’s clutching the phone so tight now she’s sure it will break. She’s holding on for dear life.  “If this is the worst, Alex I can handle it.” She lets out a shaky breath, as she tries to calm herself breathing in for a count of three. “I can handle it...I can handle whatever it is but I need you to tell me what's going on.”

Then nothing.

Silence.

Just their quiet breaths filtering through the line.

Jo can taste her salty tears as they slip down onto her lips then…

“I’m with Izzie.”

He’s so quiet she almost doesn’t hear him. Her mind takes a moment to grasp what Alex had just said.

Izzie

“I called her for Mers hearing and we got to talking…”

“She wasn’t on the list.” It’s the first thing she thinks of, all her worst-case scenarios coming true at once.

“What?”

Her legs feel like jelly, shaking too much to support her weight as she drops to the ground, leaning back against the couch, “She wasn’t on the list.”

“I didn’t put her on there.” He says it like it’s simple. Like it’s an obvious explanation for any of this. He sounds more confident now, his voice clear and concise like he’d practiced it. Maybe he had. Maybe it’s why he’d avoided answering her for so long, he just hadn’t figured out the right words to say.

“She had my kids Jo.” She couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in the room. “She had twins Eli and Alexis and they're here in Kansas.”

“You have kids?”

“I have kids. Twins. They’re five years old...say something, Jo, please.” He urges after a minute's silence.

She can’t though. She’s clawing at her chest desperately trying to remember all the stupid breathing techniques she’d learned. Trying to get to her happy place, her happy place that had him written all over it.

“I’m so sorry Jo.”

“Do you love her?” She manages through ragged breaths. She’s already on fire, might as well throw on the accelerator.

He hesitates. She hears his breath hitch like he can’t find the right words and then a quiet yes. Yes, he does love her.

“But not like that. Not like I love you.”

The words that had felt healing only moments ago hurt now, causing her heart to tear further into two, now they sound more like pity than hope.

“What does that mean?”

She hears a slight sniffle before he’s clearing his throat. “That I love you...but I can’t come home, I can’t leave them. Can you come here?” He sighs but Jo's mind is still whirling, her body still shaking. She can’t quite comprehend anything that he’s saying.

It’s like all she can see is a huge blinking sign that reads.

He’s with Izzie. He loves her. He has kids.

“You have kids.”

“Jo…”

“You have a family?”

“Daddy?” Jo can feel the gasp falling from her lips before she has a chance to stop it. He’s there now, he’s there with them while she’s sitting alone.

“You’re there now? You’re with them?”

She hears the phone muffle. Obviously, he’s covered the speaker but she can still hear him as he asks his children to go play, that he’d come and join them in a minute. He’s a dad. Something he’d wanted for such a long time. Something only weeks ago she’d been considering bringing up for them.

He understood her. It’s one of the reasons she loved him so much. Since Bailey’s wedding, they’d just had this uncanny ability to understand the other. Even if they didn’t agree with each other. They were cut from the same cloth.

Right now though that feels worlds away. Right now they feel like two pieces of different puzzles. She’s here and he’s there and he’s a parent and she’s not.

His voice breaks through the overwhelming thoughts clouding her brain. “Can you come here, Jo?”

“I can’t.”

It's a low whisper before she does the one thing she could never imagine herself doing before she pressed his contact tonight, she hangs up.

She lets him go to voicemail twice before the phone falls silent. She thinks he knows better than to press the issue, especially when all he’s done is ignore her calls for weeks. She needs time. Time to figure out what this all means.

It’s easier said than done. She manages to drag herself to work, detaching herself from everyone she knows, pushing through by focusing on her patients. He doesn’t call again. Weeks go by in silence. Jo falls into the same routine of working until she might drop, only dragging herself home when she’s so tired she's sure her brain won’t be able to torment her.

It’s only when she’s ransacking her wardrobe having neglected the growing laundry pile for too long that she finds them. Tucked into the back behind an old shoebox. Three tiny baby hats.

She clutched them carefully in her hands, trailing her finger along the detailing. They’re made with such love and care for babies she used to be able to picture so clearly. She doesn’t wanna give up that dream or Alex for that matter she's just not sure how to hold onto him.

For the first time in weeks, she finds herself staring down at her phone, her finger itching to hit call. She doesn’t though. She’s not sure what she’d say about this mess, still feeling too big to wade through alone.

The second time she’s overwhelmed with the need to call Alex comes only days later. She’s just finished discussing surgery options with a new patient when she spots him. He recognizes her immediately, his face lighting up.

“Dr. Wilson…it’s so nice to see you again.”

It’s Charlie Peterson. The heart transplant kid from years ago. He’s older now obviously, he looks healthy and it gives Jo a warm feeling to know she was a little part of that. She so rarely gets to see her patients again.

“Charlie…it’s good to see you. Or I hope it is…are you here for treatment?”

“Just a check-in with Dr. Pierce.” Jo nods offering a soft smile before turning her attention down to her phone. She has to run, she has surgery in a little bit. Sensing their conversation is almost over she watches as Charlie sways back on his feet almost nervously. “Dr. Wilson…there’s something…there’s something I wanted to say. Wanted to thank you for really. It’s something you said to me when I got my transplant.” Jo doesn’t say anything, she can vaguely remember talking to him. She knows it was the day she’d propose to Alex. “You said I had to promise to survive, that true love survived fights and breakups. You said you have to live, and then you have to fight and it always stuck with me you know. So just thankyou.”

Jos' speechless. She’d remember it now, her and Alex arguing. He was so sure she was leaving him that he’d spent the night away from home. Her heart had felt heavy as she returned home that night to an empty loft, it felt cold without him much like it did now. She’d hated it so much she’d refused to let that be her permanent reality. She’d fought for him back then. She got down on her knees and told him she wanted him forever. Where had that gone? Where was her gumption? That need to fight for him?

She wishes Charlie well before excusing herself for surgery but her mind is miles away. It might as well be in Kansas because that’s where her heart is. It's where she should be too.

She’s not sure what happens next. She’s not sure how Izzie and the twins fit or how she fits with them. But she knows how she fits with Alex. She knows that nothing has ever felt that scary when he’s been standing there beside her and if she can just get to him she’s sure they can work this all out.

She scans her phone buying the plane ticket out to Kansas without a second glance. Reading the confirmation email she feels at peace for the first time since Alex had walked out that door. The kinda peace that only came from knowing where your heart truly lied. Tomorrow she’d get to see Alex and no matter how bad or how scary everything else around them was, he’d be there to hold her hand. All she had to do was hope he still wanted to.

Tomorrow she'd be with Alex. Her first love. Her last, her only. He was all of it. He was her everything.

It’s late when she arrives back at the loft, so late she doesn't even notice how the lights are already on as she climbs the steps. It’s only when she spots a familiar pair of boots lined up by the door that she realizes the change. The air seems warmer. Looking up abruptly she spots him standing across the room, leaning against the kitchen island like he’d been waiting for her.

“You came home?” She mutters in disbelief, her keys clattering to the ground as she takes him in. He’d let his beard grow, which makes sense considering she’d been crying at the sight of his razor for weeks. He looks tired though, with deep bags under his eyes.

He nods, taking quick strides until he’s standing before her. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted. She watches his own hands twitch with the same urge. Like he too wanted to confirm she was real and standing in front of him. “I came home.”

Suddenly Jo bursts out laughing. Her hand reaching up to cover her mouth as she tries to keep her giggles at bay. Alex's eyebrows drop in confusion as he eyes her carefully. “I booked a flight.” She admits through uneven breaths.

“What?”

“I booked a flight for tomorrow morning. I was gonna come find you.” She laughs again, finding it overwhelmingly amusing that on the day she’d decided to go find him, he’d come home.

Alex frowns but nods as if he has an understanding of what she’s laughing about. “Jo look…”

“Do you still want me?” She asks abruptly. It’s the only question she has. She can deal with the twins and Izzie and Kansas, she can deal with it all as long as he still wants her.

“What kind of question is that?” Alex settles his hands on her waist, the heat of his palms seeping through her. “Of course I want you. I always want you.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

And they do figure it out. They head back to Kansas together the next morning, Alex’s hand clutched tightly in her own. Jo’s nervous and scared and a whole other host of emotions but those feelings soon fade when they step out of the rented car. Alex’s face lights up as two five-year-olds come barreling down the front steps, skidding to a halt in front of her. Their eyes are wide and hesitant as they say a reluctant hello. Jo is struck with the love that flows through her as soon as she sees them, no they’re not her’s but they are his. Little pieces of the man she loves so dearly. She can see parts of him so clearly, he’s in Eli’s lopsided grin and Alexis’s eyes. They’re a part of him; it's impossible not to love them.

She lets Alexis guide her up into the house, accepting a cup of coffee from Izzie who seems genuinely pleased that she's there and they sit for the rest of the afternoon playing tea party. Jo mainly spends the day watching Alex who seems more himself then she’s ever seen him before as he chases the two around.

Later that evening Izzie finds her on the porch swing. Jo feels her stomach turning at what she’s about to say, but she is surprised when Izzie apologizes. She apologizes for keeping the twins a secret, for not calling Alex sooner, and then she apologises the way she’s sure she’s uprooted Jo's life. The funny thing is it doesn't feel uprooted at all. It’s only day one but nothing has been as bad as Jo had made it out to be in her head. The day had flown by in an unexpected bliss, Alex had been the husband she knew, constantly touching base making sure she was okay, a reassuring hand squeeze or a mouthed I love you across the dining table. He needn’t bother though, she was more than okay.

“Do you think she can hear me?” Alexis shouts, making Jo startle out of her daydream. They’d been in Kansas almost a year now. It’s not a picnic by any means but it’s definitely worth it. They’re a family, a real proper family. It’s not just her and Alex and their friends anymore and Jo loves it, every messy second of it. She’d cried when the twins had shown up at their house the day after Mother’s Day with a card that read ‘Not all stepmothers are wicked’ and a bunch of flowers that Izzie had let them pick from her garden. Her life is so far from what she’d imagined it to be after she’d called Alex a year ago. Back then she could never see herself leaving Grey Sloan Memorial or even Seattle but they had and it was better than whatever life they ever had planned.

“What about now?” Alexis yells again, pressing her chin into Jo’s stomach as she looks up at Jo expectantly.

Jo just laughs, their poor baby would probably be deaf by the time she was born. “She can definitely hear you and by the time she joins us she’ll know the sound of your voice.” She runs a hand through Alexis' hair softly as the girl settles her ear against Jo's stomach.

“Can she hear me?” Eli yells suddenly, crashing down on top of his sister as they fight for a place on Jo's stomach. “I want her to hear me.” He cries, making Jo and Alex chuckle as he places his ear against her bump expecting his new sister to talk back.

“Everyone can hear you, ya little monster,” Alex growls, lifting the boy up off the picnic blanket they’d laid out, making him squeal in delight as he tips him upside down, one hand tickling his side.

“Ooo she definitely heard you,” Jo winces, feeling a sharp kick to the ribs. “Here guys come to feel her.” She takes Alexis's outstretched hand moving it about as she traces her daughter's kicks across her stomach until she seems to settle in one spot. She watches Lexs face light up in pure delight, her mouth falling open in wonder.

“Can you feel her Lex?” Alex grins taking the seat beside Jo, placing his warm hand against her bump just slightly to the side of Alexis’s.

“Yeah…yeah, I can feel her,” She nods excitedly.

“Hey, I wanna feel her too…” Eli pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as that famous Karev scowl crosses his face.

Jo shakes her head, reaching her arm around Alex and holding it out towards him. “Come over here then bud,”

They all fall silent for a moment, a very rare moment for the Karevs. The happiness seems to radiate out between them all as they feel the little movements of their newest edition.

The warm sunny day sends a golden filter over the image before her. Alex’s lopsided grin, his hand stretched out across her belly, two smaller hands pressed either side. Eli’s tucked under her arm while Alexis lays across her lap. She knows this perfect moment won't last so she takes extra care to commit it to memory while it happens.

As predicted the moment is broken, the sound of the ice cream truck drawing the children’s attention as they go racing across the grass in a flash and they both know Alex has about ten seconds before he has to go catch up to them. He takes the time to press a chaste kiss to her lips before he goes. Soft and sweet and way too short for her liking.

“Thanks for holding on to me.” He whispers against her lips when he pulls back, shooting her a wink before he’s off and running in the direction of the twins.

“Always.”

She calls back, laughing when he almost trips over as he turns back to grin at her. Jo runs her hand across her bump lovingly, thinking back to how only a year ago she was ready to give up this dream of a life completely. She’s glad she didn't.

[sabraeal]

Not Necessarily a Virtue

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Practical Magic AU

There hadn’t been a plan when Obi picked up the phone.

All it had taken was one rogue text-- another case assigned to his social worker, one that was enough of an emergency that it his behavioral issues seem tame in comparison. Her chair rattles when she stans, its plastic back hitting the filing cabinets with a metallic tang, but her hands tremble more.

“This will be just a minute,” she says, smile plastered tight to her face. And then she leaves him there alone, his file open on her desk, flaws left out for the world to see.

It doesn’t bothered him. There’s no point, not when he already knows: he’s trouble with a capital-T, each failed family drawing him closer and closer to being unplaceable. Some people have a face only a mother could love, but Obi-- Obi has that for his personality. Though considering how each of his six almost-moms signed him away with a sigh of relief, walking out the plate glass doors without even a glance back, maybe he has the sort of personality that makes people reconsider whether they could be a mother.

So here he is again, freshly abandoned, back in the sterile halls of social services for the seventh time without a place to call home. He’s not even twelve.

Not that these people aren’t trying to change that-- he’s not some cat left at the shelter, free to a good home. Unless Kerry or Janine or the girl at the desk he didn’t get to read the name tag of wanted to sleep on their couch, they have to find someone to take him for the night. And he knows from experience, there’s always a family that believes they can change him. A young couple who thought all problem children needed was just a little extra love. By the time Kerry came back, there’d be good news waiting, a miracle crafted by three people who didn’t want to miss the Masked Singer finale. They’d pack him into the back of a car and ship him off to a new place to fail. Because no matter how many homes they tried to make for him, it’d never change how he felt.

Obi had tried, at first. He was just a little kid, wanting to be loved, but every home he went to itched like hives in his head, a constant buzz that set his teeth on edge and made him do anything, try anything to leave. He belonged somewhere else, somewhere not here, and he knew it like he knew Kerry’s other case had overdosed on a bottle of sleeping pills in his foster mother’s cabinet-- with an inexplicable certainty.

He waits thirty seconds after she leaves before he slides off the the plastic seat she’d put him in. They love these things, oddly shaped and in primary colors that make the little kids giddy, but Obi hates them. He’s undersized, and putting him in these kiddie rooms always makes people treat him like he’s eight instead of eleven, asking him about Blue’s Clues.

But that’s not why he gets up, not entirely. There’s a buzzing in the back of his brain, a knowing, and it makes him stand, his hand straying to the glass door. He can’t see anything outside, at least not anything besides more kiddie chairs and offices, but he steps out nonetheless. He steps out and, unerringly, turns to face the girl waiting for him down the hall.

“It’s you.” Her tawny hair stresses the elastic she’s trapped it in, too thick. It’s not one of those hair ones either, but one of those thick rubber bands they use on the produce in grocery store. It hurts; he knows because it’s common sense, but also because he just...Knows. Their eyes meet, and even though he doesn’t her name, they’ve known each other forever.

His mouth is dry when he asks, “Do you know me?”

“I saw you in a dream.” She takes a step toward him, her sneakers scuffed and worn, just like his. “You’re Obi. I’m Torou.”

He doesn’t know this girl. There’s a hundred ways she could get his name; one of them is sitting on a desk behind him right now. But when she looks up at him with eyes he’s only ever seen in the mirror, he holds out his hand. “Come here.”

His heart pounds with each mincing squeak of her sneakers on the tile. She’s taking too long and she’s coming too fast; each terrible second convinces him he’s making a mistake at the same time he’s doing what he was always meant to do. By the time she slips her hand into his, he’s trembling, but it doesn’t matter because they both are and this--

This is right. And he knows exactly what to do.

It’s holding her hand that he picks up the phone. He fucks it up the first time-- he gets that gross digital buzz before he notices the sticker beneath the speaker, informing him 9 dials out-- but the second one his fingers guide him, releasing the number he has no reason to know. A number he has no reason to believe will work, that could have just come from the weird recesses of his mind but--

But he’s not surprised when a man picks up. “Who is this? Do you know what time--?”

“We’re here,” Obi says, and it shouldn’t be enough, but it is. “Come pick us up.”

A specter arrives on the front walk at noon.

Obi knows by the hush in the office. Or really the weight of it-- it’s been quiet like this since last night, since he and Torou sat down on the big bean bag couch in the waiting room, and Obi announced they wouldn’t be letting go. His case worker had crouched in front of them, that sweet smile plastered to her lips, and told him that they’d only have to be separated for a night. But he’d known-- the way he always did-- that every word was a lie. His fingers tightened in her grip, narrowing his eyes until the woman shivered, and that was that.

Kerry stayed with them, of course; she’d slept in her office, under a blanket it’s clear she’s never used and had only just discovered wasn’t comfortable no matter how many Sesame Street characters were on it. They’d been tucked under another by a younger girl with trembling hands, her eyes darting between them as she smoothed out its edges. He’d heard them through the walls this morning while the rest of the office filtered in-- government buildings like this were always cutting corners, leaving things like this paper thin, stuff that would go up like tissue in a fire.

Do you think they’re twins? one asked. Trembling hands, he guesses, since her voice does as well, like a chihuahua in a sweater. I’ve heard about this happening with twins. They look and just know.

Can’t be, we have their birth certificates, says another. Kerry, probably; she might be a liar, but she’s one of the only people in this place that has her head screwed on right, too. Two different sets of parents.

And the man they called last night? This one is stern; their manager maybe. He’s not really sure how this all works; he’s not even twelve, and he can only just know so much. Who is he?

There’s a heavy pause. I...I don’t know.

So when he arrives, dressed like an undertaker and holding an umbrella beneath the bright New Mexico sky, the whole place goes quiet. When he walks it’s stiff, like it took a hundred volts to get him up off the table and he’s only just gotten used to the idea. Obi casts a look down at Torou, at where her hand is white knuckled in his, and thinks about how he knows things, and wonders just what she might be able to do.

The man enters, umbrella folding in a single neat motion, before he says. “I am Lata Forenzo. I believe you have my...niblings.”

Niblings, Obi learns, is like siblings, only sideways.

“It was a simplification,” Lata says, his voice a deep, hesitant gravel. He casts a speculative look at the taxi driver, adjusting the gloves on his hands. “Niece and nephew is an unwieldy phrase, and time, after all, is of the essence.”

“Is it?” Torou’s eyes are wide, and for the first time since last night, her hand leaves his, gripping on to the cloth at Lata’s knee. “Is there something after us? Those bugs, they’re not--”

“No.” Obi’s known his uncle for barely more than a half hour, but he knows he isn’t a tactile person. Even still, Lata looks down at Torou, his not-gold eyes somehow softer, and puts two fingers over the bones at the back of her hand. “But it is time to bring you home.”

Home is an island. It takes the whole night to fly in, and when they land the sun is just barely scratching the sky. Even still, there’s no stopping; Lata bundles them straight into a cab, shushing them before they can make much more than a peep.

“We’ll be home soon,” he says, and the next time he wakes them, salt stings Obi’s nose, and he’s being carried over a threshold.

“Are we here?” he slurs. The house is weird-- angular, really, with a hall so narrow he could kick out a leg and stop them up like a cork. He nearly does, just to be cussed, but he catches Torou still wrapped up in her blanket, lolling on the couch, and says instead, “Can you let me down?”

Lata hesitates, fingers stiff where they wrap around his knees and shoulders, but he nods.

Obi’s feet-- just wearing socks now, somehow-- press on the floor, and he knows: he’s home.

“Oh,” he breathes, hands flying out to steady himself. “Oh.”

When he looks up, Torou’s eyes meet his, round and wide. “I felt that.”

Her own feet swing down-- bare-- and the moment she touches the wide old planks--

“Oh.” Lata braces himself against the wall, the sound bitter on his lips. “So it’s true. There will always be two.”

They aren’t his words, Obi knows, but they’re important. They’ve got that feel, the same as when Torou said she dreamed of him. The sort that are going to be life-changing, one way or another.

But Obi’s had enough of that today. Enough of it for a lifetime. He glances over at Torou, and she nods. “Can we go outside?”

Lata blinks, eyes pulling from the wallpaper to fix on him. After a long moment, he says, “You know where the door is.”

Obi does, somehow, and when he opens it--

It’s paradise.

Home has rules too, loads of them. It’s quiet time from nine to eight, though Lata doesn’t much care if they’re sleeping, so long as they’re in bed. Teeth have to be brushed twice a day-- he’d glowered when Obi said he had good teeth and only needed the once, standing over him for a week morning and night to see the rule stuck. There’s only one dessert after dinner; Obi balked at that one, until he’d learned that a limit on quantity wasn’t the same thing as size. He and Torou find three old sundae dishes in the cabinet and pile them high with ice cream and every topping they can find, and when they slap Lata’s down in front of him, cheeks bulging with their own towers of sweets, all he’d does is give them that small, reluctant twitch of a smile and dig in.

They have to make their beds and pick up after themselves-- this house has treated us well, Lata tells them, it’s only right we take care of it in return-- and they have to tell him if they plan to play in the yard; but in return their sheets are always clean, and dinner’s promptly at six. When they come back in, sweaty and exhausted from the summer heat, there’s always a bowl of fruit waiting for them and cold drinks.

He’d known, in the way he always does, that this couldn’t last. So when summer’s heat began to cool, he’s not surprised to see Lata waiting on for them on the veranda, mouth pulled into an even grimmer line.

“It’s time,” he says, “for a Family Meeting.”

“School,” Lata says with the sort of relish and derision only a professor like him can summon up, “is starting. Which means there are new rules.”

Fingers brush at Obi’s, and when he reaches out, Torou’s fingers knit in his. He knows what rules these will be-- his parents had them to, the only ones they’d ever made. His mother had gotten down on her knees the night before kindergarten, nails digging into his shoulders, and used a voice so dark, so unlike her, he’d dreamed of button eyes staring into his for a week. His father had tossed out their Coraline DVD after that.

“Forenzos,” Lata starts, already sounding weary, “look after each other. So you’ll walk together, both ways, and if one of you gets into trouble--” he fixes them both with a stern look-- “I expect both of you to run.”

Obi stares. “What?”

“You’ll come back right after school, unless we have previously discussed plans,” Lata continues. “You’re far too young for...cellular phones, so I expect that if you make plans with friends, you will discuss them with me the night previous, or you will come home first and ask permission. Not,” he murmurs, just barely audible, “that I expect you’ll have much trouble with that.”

“Is that...” Obi’s jaw works. “Is that all?”

“I expect you to keep up your grades.” Lata’s brow furrows, taking them in, as if he’d never once questioned whether or not they would be stellar students. As if most people don’t look at the both of them and see future high school flunk outs. “If they are slipping, I’m afraid I’ll have to limit your free time until we are able to bring them back to an acceptable level. Homework is to be done at the table, and once you are done, your time is yours until dinner.”

Torou’s hand squeezes his. “We?”

Lata blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You said ‘we.’“ She clear her throat, eyelashes fluttering with nerves. “If our grades are bad, you said we would, uh, fix them.”

“Of course.” His mouth pulls at the corners, annoyed. “How could I possibly ask you to rectify such a thing on your own? You’re already doing the best you can, if you still struggle, then it’s clearly something we both-- oh my,” he murmurs mildly, “she’s leaking.”

“Sorry,” she sobs, pink burning on her cheeks, the way it never did on his. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” Lata flails out, yanking a tissue from the box, shoving it into her hand. “I just...hope that you find this all fair. I was always quite good at school, but my sisters--” he glances at them, wary-- “varied. I hope I can only...encourage you to your best.”

“But what about...” Obi snaps his teeth around the words. If he doesn’t ask, then it won’t become a rule, and his uncle can’t be disappointed when he breaks it.

The pictures on the wall prove that they’re family, that Lata truly is his mom’s brother, even if they don’t share much more than a hair color. But Obi’s never seen it, the way he does in pictures of Torou’s mom, where there’s a flick of the hand or a cock of a hip that says they spent their childhood together, inextricably intertwined forever in ways they would never understand.

But Lata raises a brow now, and he sees it, that small thread that ties him to his mom, that says brother. “About...?”

“The other stuff,” Torou blurts out, coughing down a sniff. “He wants to know what we...”

Her words peter out too, like she can’t figure out what to do with them. He can’t stop knowing, and she can’t stop dreaming, and the thought of having to pretend they can is...tiring this time, in a way it never was in the system.

His mouth wraps around the words with a curious sort of wonder. “Other stuff?” 

“You know,” she mutters, so small. “The weird stuff.”

Lata jolts in his chair, spine as straight as a poker. His hands press flat against his knees, and when he looks at them, the gray in his eyes in thunderous.

“This is the most important rule,” he tells them, voice oddly resonant, “you must follow it. Promise me.”

Obi’s heart sinks into his stomach, but he nods, fingers squeezing Torou’s tighter.

Lata’s hand presses heavy on his shoulder, leather flexing over cotton. “Don’t ever hide yourselves. Not for anything. Not for anyone.” Obi dares to look up, and Lata’s gaze is waiting to catch him. “Being...normal is not necessarily a virtue. There is no shame in being who you are, none at all.”

Or what you are, he doesn’t say, but his eyes do, loud and clear. He doesn’t say what that is either, but--

Obi knows. Just like he always does.

And if he didn’t, well-- he would have found out soon enough.

It’s a small island; small enough that K-12 are all squeezed into one school, though Lata tells them that by the time they go to senior high, they might have built another. It’s still not small enough for Torou and him to be in the same class, so he drops her off at the door with promises to find her at lunch and moseys down to his own. It puts him a little behind schedule, the school bell ringing on his heels, and when he steps in--

The room goes silent. Twenty pairs of eyes stare at him, round and wide, not a single person daring to do much more than breathe.

“Forenzo,” the teacher says, faint. “You must be...the Forenzo boy.”

“Yeah.” He grips at his shoulder. “Obi.”

“You can take your seat...at the back,” she says, before hurrying to the board, eager to put her back to him.

“I thought my mom said all the Forenzos died,” a boy whispers as he passes. “Except the old man, of course.”

“No, they just left,” says the one next to them. “Chased out. Because they’re, you know...”

Obi does; he always had, even before he had a word for it.

“I don’t think a boy can be a witch,” a girl says, thoughtless and thoughtful at the same time. “They’re wizards, or something.”

“Warlocks,” scoffs another. “Don’t you know anything? And they do blood magic with little girls--”

Obi grits his teeth, eyes forward. There’s two empty chairs in the back, one in the corner by the window, and the other next to it, and he steers toward that one-- window seats always get him in trouble--

And the boy next to it scoots away, fear bright in his eyes. Obi looks back at the teacher, but she’s writing her name on the board real slow, like she’s hoping this might solve itself.

Fine, he can take a hint. He takes the window, sliding in behind the desk. The girl in front of him scoots forward too, making sure her chair doesn’t touch his desktop, and he sighs. At least they’re all getting this out of the way first.

A bag drops, right next to his seat.

“Ms Kino!” There’s a girl there, smaller than everyone else, though her voice makes her twice as tall. In the morning sun, her hair burns bright like the horizon. “Can I change my seat?”

“Shirayuki?” The teacher blinks back at them, and Obi could swear she breaks into a cold sweat. “Shirayuki, I’m not sure that’s--”

“I can’t see the board from over there,” she says, every syllable digging in its heels. “There’s glare. Because I’m so small.”

Ms Kino squints back at her, and really-- there’s no denying how small she is, at least a head below Obi and he’s nothing to write home about either. “If you’re sure...”

“Great.” She drops into her seat with a thump as loud as thunder, setting out her notebook and pencil with the sort of purposeful efficiency that says there’s no doubt she’s here to stay.

Obi slips his out of his backpack too, so quiet so the other kids will stop looking at him like he’s going to set the place on fire, but he hears, “You’re new, right?”

He looks down, and there’s the girl, smiling across the aisle. “Yeah. I’m--”

“Obi, I heard.” She leans toward him. “I’m--”

“Shirayuki.” His mouth twitches. “I also heard.”

Her smile stretches towards a grin. “You know, Ms Kino likes group projects.”

He blinks. “Does she?”

She nods. “Would you like a partner?”

“She hasn’t assigned one yet,” he says, a little lost.

“She will,” this Shirayuki says, confident. The way he is, when he knows.

He nods, slow. “All right, so for the next one.”

“To start.” She fixes him with a look he can’t get out from under. “Are you eating lunch with someone?”

“Ah, yeah.” He feels guilty about it now, for some reason. “My um. Cousin.”

She brightens. “Great. I’ll show you guys the best place to sit.”

He’s been adopted, he realizes, like the way the cats around the house aren’t. And this girl means to keep him.

For once in his very short life, Obi doesn’t mind knowing. Just like he always does.

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 33- Trust

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Masterlist

Hawks is neither dumb nor oblivious. He knows that he is not okay after learning about Endeavor. He knows that it isn’t normal to feel nauseous at the thought of using his quirk. But he also knows that you’re excited for this stupid gala tonight. So even though the very thought of seeing members of the HPSC or Endeavor fills him with quiet, fervent anger, he is determined to take you and make sure you have a good night. Mina had arrived an hour ago with a garment bag and a backpack stocked with makeup and hair products and immediately dragged you into your room to start getting ready. Even from outside he can hear the two of you laughing. So no, he is not in denial about his emotional well-being. He is well aware that he needs to shake off the anger, disgust, and heartache that’s clung to his spine since that night on the balcony. But the sound of your laughter and the sight of your smile makes him forget everything else, even if only for a moment, so if enduring one of the least heroic parts of hero work is what it takes to keep you happy then he’ll do it.

It’s almost time to leave. Hawks wears a crisp black suit with a black shirt underneath. The designer had also given him a red tie to wear but the night would be suffocating enough without a fancy noose around his neck as well, so he’d decided to skip it and leave the top few buttons of his shirt undone instead. He followed Bakugo’s advice and had run out to get flowers while you changed. Now he stands nervously clutching them in one hand while he waits for you to finally emerge.

Mina slips out first, excitement evident in her black and yellow eyes. “You’re gonna flip when you see her,” she whispers to him conspiratorially before clearing her throat and standing up tall. “Now presenting, the breathtaking and stunningly gorgeous (y/n) (y/l/n), as styled by Mina Ashido and Momo Yaoyorozu,” Mina announces with a flourish before throwing open the doors to reveal you standing on the other side. He would like to say something witty and charming but all of Hawks’ smooth charisma seems to have abandoned him, leaving only Keigo staring at the person he loves in all her beauty in a red dress that perfectly matches his feathers. “Told you,” Mina sing songs with a laugh and you think you would pay admission to see Keigo blush the way he currently is again. “These are for you,” he finally says, offering up the beautiful blooms. “Thank you, they’re perfect,” you grin as you take them and Mina is quick to take them off your hands to put them in some water. “You kids have fun! I’ll lock things up here,” Mina assures you before shooing you and Hawks out your apartment.

“Shall we?” Hawks asks as he offers you his arm. You get a flashback to that first date and part of you wonders what would’ve happened had you not bared your soul to him that night. When you look in his eyes though, and see the genuine affection in his golden gaze, you find that you truly wouldn’t change a thing as long as you could still end up right back in this moment. “We shall,” you grin, as you take his arm and he leads you down the stairs and out the door.

You blink in surprise as you lay eyes on a long black limousine. “You got a limo?” you ask incredulously. “Of course, it’s too far to walk and you deserve to roll up to your first red carpet in style,” he winks as he opens the door and helps you in. “Honestly I thought you might fly us there,” you admit. You notice the way Hawks tenses up for just a moment but when he slides in next to you he’s all smiles. “And let the wind ruin all of Mina’s hard work? She’d kill me,” he replies smoothly. You decide to drop it, after all if your suspicions about why he’s so hesitant to use his quirk are correct, then the last thing he needs is to dredge up those feelings right before seeing the very people at the center of them.

Pulling up to the red carpet is odd for a variety of reasons. For starters the idea of walking a red carpet with reporters who you can already hear clamoring outside is surreal in and of itself. But also it’s odd because for the past week or so since your kidnapping you’d been getting to see Keigo without filter. But as he turns to you and asks “You ready little techie?” you can almost physically see him rebuilding his walls. He gives your hand a quick squeeze and you think maybe, just maybe, he’s still left a door in the wall for you. So you take a deep breath to relieve your nerves, meet his eyes, and then you tell him “I’m ready.”

The flashing cameras are overwhelming at first but Hawks finds your hand and quickly squeezes it, immediately grounding you. He lets go just as quickly, after all he had promised you this was strictly platonic and the press would surely latch onto any sign of affection as proof of a relationship. He’s pleasantly surprised to feel you take back his hand and intertwine your fingers. He needs the grounding too. He turns to you and you both share a private smile before he slides back on the infectious grin that all of Japan knows him by. Reporters are shouting his name left and right as he leads you towards the entrance. “Hawks! Hawks! Who’s your date this evening?” “Hawks! Are the rumors true about your Twitter fling?” “Hawks! Over here! When will you be returning to hero work?”

Finally you enter into the building and both of you breathe out a sigh of relief as you finally put the reporters behind you. “You said there’s free booze here?” you ask slightly out of breath as your heart returns to its normal cadence. “That there is,” Hawks replies before smiling and pulling you to the elevators up to the banquet hall by your still intertwined hands.

Several tables are set up around the hall and there’s a stage where presumably there will be a few speakers once everyone gets more settled and has had some time to mingle. The two of you spot Mirko in a purple jumpsuit standing with a dark haired woman with wolf ears dressed in a black gown. “C’mon let me introduce you,” Hawks encourages as he leads you to their table. “You already know Mirko, this is her lovely girlfriend Olivia. Olivia meet (y/n),” he introduces. “So you’re the infamous (y/n). I see what all the hype is about,” she says as she gives you an appraising look. “Oh infamous, huh?” you ask already smirking. “Oh yea. Can’t tell you how many times this one has whined to me about Hawks pining over you,” Olivia laughs, revealing her sharp canines in the process as she pulls Mirko in tight to her. “I do not whine!” Mirko says with a roll of her eyes while Hawks protests “I wasn’t pining!” You laugh as both women give him a skeptical look. “Ok if I’m going to be attacked this way I’m going to need a drink,” Hawks sighs, “want one?” “Sure I’ll take-“ “White wine work?” he cuts you off. “You talked to Katsuki,” you laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Dove,” he grins walking backwards away from you before finally turning to head to the bar.

“Two glasses of white wine,” Hawks asks of the bartender. “Put it on my tab,” a gruff voice says coming up behind him. Hawks feels his entire body stiffen. “It’s an open bar Endeavor, there are no tabs,” Hawks says without turning to look at his former hero. “Hawks we need to talk,” Endeavor insists. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.” “I am trying to do better.” “That’s great and all but it doesn’t untraumatize your kids. If you weren’t a high ranking hero you’d be rotting in a cell right now.” “You cannot tell anyone. The fate of hero society-“ “You think I don’t know that? I’m not an idiot.” “I never said you were.” “Then don’t lecture me old man.” “I have saved so many lives. And thanks to my training so has Shoto.”

Hawks whips around to stare at the man he once idolized and is shocked to see Endeavor genuinely believes what he says is true. As if his hero work somehow undoes his crimes. “First of all, Shoto is a great hero in spite of, not because of you. Second of all, if you really want to take credit for the lives he’s saved then you also have to bear the responsibility for the lives Dabi has taken. How many is he up to now? 30 something? Not counting the death toll from Kamino Ward,” Hawks bites out, his wings expanding instinctively to make himself larger in front of the other man. “You know my father never laid a hand on me. No he was neglectful and cruel in other ways but never physically abusive. I once wished you were my father instead. Now I know I would’ve just been trading one monster for another.” “Hawks I-“

“There you are! I was wondering what was taking so long,” you interject as you slide between Hawks and Endeavor, facing your date. “Ease up a little bird brain, it’s ok,” you whisper in as calming a voice as possible. Hawks hadn’t even realized how worked up he was getting until you intervened, but he’s grateful now that you’re here to ground him. You spin around to address the number one hero directly. You should probably be scared, or at the very least nervous, but instead you stand up tall, chin raised defiantly, and bring your quirk to the surface just enough for your eyes to glow as you make eye contact with the man in front of you. “I don’t care what the rankings say, Hawks is a better hero than you’ll ever be,” you declare unflinchingly. Endeavor opens his mouth to respond but you continue before he can, “I think it’s best you leave him alone now. We have an evening to enjoy.” With that you grab Hawks’ hand and spin on your heel before marching off.

As you’re walking back to the table where Olivia and Mirko are waiting, the lights dim and one of the members of the HPSC takes to the stage. It only takes one quick glance at Hawks’ face to confirm this is the last thing he needs to sit and listen to right now. So you bypass the table entirely and keep moving. “Where are we going?” he asks as you drag him to the first emergency stairwell you spot. “The roof. It can’t be that many more flights up and you look like you could use some fresh air,” you explain.

It takes four more flights of stairs for the two of you to reach the roof and you’d had to pick the door lock to get out, but it’s worth it for the view. Lights twinkle in all directions as the entire city stretches out before the two of you. “It’s beautiful,” you gasp as you take it all in. “It is,” Keigo confirms, although there’s a sadness in his voice. He sits down on the concrete and stares out across the view and so you take a seat beside him. “What’s up?” you ask gently. It breaks your heart to see the way he merely shakes his head with watery eyes. “It’s just me Kei. The roof isn’t even supposed to be accesible, no one is gonna bother us up here. What’s wrong?” you insist. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to outrun my father and be something better. Only to find out that something better was the same thing in prettier packaging,” he admits. “You are nothing like Endeavor. I meant what I said inside.” “I want to believe you but how can I when that’s the model I’ve been striving for since I was a kid?”

You stop and think for a moment as you try to figure out how exactly to word this. “Remind me who was it that called out Endeavor for being number one hero and yet ranking considerably lower than you in popularity polls? It was right after All Might retired,” you respond. Keigo rolls his eyes, “It was me but-“ “That doesn’t sound like something a dedicated disciple of Endeavor would do to me. You’ve always been able to acknowledge the flaws in the system. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit and I’m sure if you asked any of the heroes here tonight they’d agree. I would trust you with my life Kei. I’m serious,” you insist. “Fine, fine. You’re so dramatic,” Keigo laughs but you know him well enough to know when he’s deflecting.

You rise up from your position and casually move towards the edge of the roof, keeping your eyes trained on the city. “You really are an incredible hero,” you say into the chilly night. “So you keep saying,” Keigo laughs ruefully behind you. “Hey Keigo?” you ask as you step onto the edge of the roof and turn back to face him. “What?”

“Think fast.”

You step backwards and then you’re falling.

Author’s Note: First before I forget, shoutout to @oliviasslut for letting me use her oc Olivia for Mirko’s girlfriend. I was low key stuck on that so letting me swipe your oc was a huge help. Anyway, THIS GOT SO FAR AWAY FROM ME WOW. I didn’t think this would be where I ended the chapter but it felt right and opens the next part up for more details which hopefully will be a good thing lmao. I will mostly likely be releasing a SFW and NSFW version of the next part, hopefully I don’t fall behind schedule and can continue the daily updates through to the end 😅 we’re in the home stretch guys.

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @a-fucking-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom @pixelwisp

[heavenunderthemoon]

Line Without A Hook- Jennifer Jareau x Reader

summary: You were brought onto the team as a tech analyst to help with the new workload and find a certain blonde has taken an interest in you. 

warnings: none just some angst and then some fluff

I would recommend listening to Line without a hook by Ricky Montgomery while reading bc that’s what I listened to while writing (hence the title), always, enjoy! Also go check out my other works here

"Hey, hot stuff."

Your fingers tightened around the black, government issued telephone you had been holding up to your ear, eyes flickering to Penelope who was finishing up typing in a code to help filter your search results for the unsub.

Jennifer Jareau's arrogantly smooth (in your own, professional opinion, of course) filtered through the phone with ease and successfully made your cheeks tint pink.

"Jennifer." You said curtly, and Penelope spun around in her chair, her face twinged with amusement already.

Ever since you had started working at the bureau a month ago, the team had noticed a...flirtation between you and the blonde former media liaison. You remembered your first day, how her hand had gripped yours tightly and the way her lips had quirked up when you pulled yours back just a bit too fast.

The team had watched for a whole month as the blonde had found fun in her flirtatious poking, the first time she had expressed interest in anyone since her divorce. And you hadn't had any complaints- well, any real complaints. Sure, you answered her stiffly, choosing to only call her Jennifer (because, according to her, only  friends called her 'JJ' and you would vehemently attest that you were not friends), but, if you had actually been bothered by the constant poking you would've voiced it. So, she continued.

"Now, that's no way to greet your favorite co-worker." The blonde teased and you could swear you could hear the smirk in that overly-confident, pompous, velvety voice of hers.

You rolled your eyes as Penelope hit the button to put it on speaker, eyes glued to your face as if to gauge your reaction. But, over the last thirty days you had become excellent at putting on a poker face. With a dry tone, you responded.

"You're right, I'd never greet Emily that way." You cracked wittily, and a small chuckle ghosted from her lips.

They had only been gone for six hours and you knew she probably hadn't changed. She was probably still wearing that wonderful little blazer that fit her slender, toned arms so well. The one that made your eyes follow her as she moved throughout the room, that annoying, adorable little smirk on her lips because she knew it too.

"Ah, how you wound me, Y/N/N." The name grated against your ears and your lips twitched in annoyance.

You hated that nickname. You had never had a nickname before, which, you supposed should be surprising because you were well above the age that nicknames were typically given but no one had ever bothered to give you one and now that someone had (and that someone was Jennifer), you couldn't help but have your annoyance spike at the usage of it.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate when you call me that?" You asked sarcastically.

"Every time I use it." Jennifer responded cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, scooting in to your desk while Penelope giggled.

And just like that she was asking you for an address and you were dutifully searching for it. This case was similar to most you had worked on so far, though the likeness to the others did little to numb the severity of the situations these people found themselves in. You didn't know how they had all been doing it for so long. Looking at this team from the outside in had made it seem like a safe haven, a group of untouchables, of the elite. But now that you were one of them you could see that it was the opposite. That, eventually, this job chipped away at them, piece by piece. You wondered how long it would be until the first part of you left too.

The address pinged onto the corner of your screen and you were speaking into the phone once more, giving it to Jareau woman as she showered you in thanks. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, or perhaps it was the case itself, the way the women all had blonde hair- it wasn't like Jennifer's hair, no, Jennifer's blonde was golden, like the sun itself had ventured down to earth to lay a kiss atop her head, bleeding some of its golden rays onto her long locks. Whatever the reason may be, you wouldn't particularly know because you were speaking far before you could think twice.

"Wait, Jennifer?" There was shuffling on the other end, the agent most probably gearing up as she walked to the squad cars, preparing to catch the man that had started the whole chase.

The blonde noticed the change in tone immediately. Of course she did, because you had developed a certain tone whenever you spoke with her. An exasperated, breathy, really adorably annoyed sort of tone that she knew was just for show because that cute little smile that you had, the smile that tilted down at the corners because you were trying so very hard to suppress it, always tugged at your lips. That tone was gone, stripped bare and all that remained was you.

"Yeah?" And now you noticed the change in tone, because the tone she normally used with you was irritatingly confident and poised and so frustratingly perfect that it made you automatically go in defense mode because, let's be honest, you were very far from it.

"Be safe." You said, and it seemed more like a plea than a statement and the back of your neck felt extremely hot when you recalled Penelope's presence behind you, the very excitable woman practically shaking at the small interaction and you hung up the phone before Jennifer could even respond.

"Not a word." You warned the Garcia woman, keeping your eyes glued to the screen before you. There was nothing to be done, at least, nothing pressing. You had given the address to the team. Now, what was left was the waiting. The waiting to confirm you had the right guy,  waiting to make sure your team turned out okay (the standards for okay, you had learned, was that everyone was in one piece or not in jail by the end of the case), and that the paperwork was filled out.

Penelope Garcia, being that she was Penelope Garcia, did not follow your request. Her earrings jangled as she rolled her way to you, your shoulders touching as she occupied the space next to your desk. She hadn't been too thrilled at the idea of a new occupant in her bat cave. In fact, she had detested it, all but striking where Emily had brought up the idea. But, the Prentiss woman had been quite adamant about the new addition, claiming that the technical analyst needed help with the new workload as they began to take on more cases, not to mention your resume had been nothing short of sparkling.

Grumbling, Penelope had met you, her eyes landing on the woman staring at the rows of action figurines on display on the righthand corner of the room. She had watched the way you peered at them, the recognition flashing in your eyes and successfully called you out on being a nerd (a secret nerd, as she called you, because you didn't broadcast your 'dorky' interests quite like Penelope liked to.) And that had been that, the Garcia woman clearing out a space for your desk and promising not to tell anyone about your weird niche interests that she had all but pried out of you.

"'Be safe', I think I'm swooning." The Garcia woman fanned her face teasingly and you huffed, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What part of 'not a word' needed to be translated into Penelopian-"

"Peneloponese is actually my official language, but continue."

And this time you did turn to face her with a cross look, arms folded. "Very funny, we'll have to get you on Seinfeld." You said flatly.

The blonde let out a laugh, as she so often did around you. As adamantly against she had been on your presence in her bat cave, she was grateful you had come into her life. Previously, she had relied on figurines and plush animals to bring her happiness when the darkness threatened to breach her area of sanctitude but now she had you, her secretly dorky, outwardly cool coworker who very obviously had a crush on one of her oldest friends.

"I tease out of love, Y/N. Speaking of love,"

You turned back to your computer, cutting th Newman off swiftly. "No."

Penelope let out a whine. "No? You don't even know what I was gong to say." She argued, though she knew you did.

And you did. You knew that she was going to ask what the latest gossip was on you and Jennifer was because that's what she always asked and, yes, while you typically playfully denied anything going on you didn't quite this you could do that this time because this time you were far too trapped into your own brain to dig yourself out long enough to lie. You were stuck, deep, deep in there, think about all the ways in which you thought Jennifer Jareau was an actual angel sent from Heaven above, starting from the golden color of her hair and ending with the way she twirled her pens out of boredom. And you hated that you noticed all those things, mostly because it meant you spent more time than you cared to admit sneaking Ito the bullpen, making excuse after excuse just to stand there and observe the funny way she did things (she ate Cheetos for almost every meal and it baffled you how she was still standing).

But you also hated it because it meant that you liked her and you could not like Jennifer Jareau. You couldn't like her because there was no way in hell that you were dumb enough to set yourself up for failure like that, you weren't that sadistic.

You would never be able to handle the crushing weight of rejection that would inevitably come from unrequitedly liking Jennifer Jareau and, of course, it would be unrequited because how could she like you? How could she like you, someone who simply refused to read a book unless it was a physical copy (you didn't understand the appeal to e-readers because you couldn't smell the old pages as you flipped them or run your fingers along the spine as you read it. Someone who had learned seven languages, one of which was Klingon just because you wanted to see if you actually could (it hadn't been too hard but now you had to live with the fact that you actually knew Klingon). Someone who hated polka-dots. Someone who had a fear of walking over sewer grates because you thought you might just be the one person unlucky enough to fall in. How could Jennifer Jareau, the woman who always walked in to work, never a wrinkle in sight or a hair out of place, possibly like you?

Surely, the flirty nature of your conversations was just something to tease you with, something she found satisfaction in and you hated it because as much as you wished it was true, those sultry looks and kind smiles, the shoulder squeezes and over the shoulder smirks, the walks to the car and greetings in the morning, it wasn't. It wasn't true and it never would be because she was Jennifer Jareau, a newly divorced mother of two.

"Drop it, Pen." And before she opened her mouth once more your tone was softening, shoulders deflating from the tense posture you held before, slumping in vulnerability. "Please."

Penelope's lips pursed shut, the two of you sitting in that silence you had created for what seemed like eternity. The hum of the machines, something that had typically served as a sense of comfort to you, seeming to mock you, a symphony of interruptions that added to the very loud, very panicked screaming currently happening in your brain.

It was the kind of silence that you asked for but once you received but, you regretted it. The silence that enveloped you in its entirety, consuming you whole and dropping you right into the belly of the beast. You started to drown in that silence because, for you, it wasn't silence at all, it was just a big, large, bottomless abyss that served as a chasm for your thoughts to fill and boy did you have a lot of them, none of them entirely pleasant and almost all of them torturous. You felt yourself teetering onto the edge of that metaphoric chasm, tiptoeing the ledge of hate and love for Jennifer Jareau.

But, Penelope Garcia was nothing if not a savior, and her hand latched onto your still one with gentleness.

"She likes you too."

And just like that the chasm was emptying, mind going blank, going absolutely numb because your ears were ringing at even the slightest notion that Jennifer Jareau liked you. Your face must've displayed that because Penelope was continuing.

"She does, I swear, she told me. Well, she told Emily but it was Girls' Night Out and I went to get more drinks and she told Emily but you know that JJ can't hold her liquor all too well and I don't think either of them know that I know and I can't tell them that I know because then they'll know I was eavesdropping- which I wasn't! My eyesight is just really bad so I think my hearing is just hyper-sensitive-"

Your mind raced attempting to keep up with the blonde. "Wait, hold on." You throat felt dry, full of cotton and closing up by the second so you forced yourself to breathe. "She...likes me? Not as a friend but actually likes me?" And you hated how juvenile it all sounded, cringed at the concept that you had to ask your friend if the girl you liked, liked you back, but you had to.

Penelope took a breath of her own, that brilliant smile she always adorned coming back into play. A nod toddled out of her head and she squeezed your hand. "Yes! She never told me, though I think that's because everyone thinks I can't keep a secret. But she always talks about you, never shuts up actually, and the look on her face-"

"She likes me." And as cool as you always tried to look, as mature as you always claimed to be, that childish little smile that overtook your features demolished all of those walls in an instant. Your heart beat quickened and you could've sworn they were singing, singing her name, cheering it, really.

Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer.

"She does." The Garcia woman confirmed.

The phone ringing cut off your inner symphony, your hand flying to the phone as you answered it.

"Hello?" You were breathless and you couldn't quite help it.

"First ring. Nothing better to do than answer my calls, huh, Y/N?" And Jennifer was back on the line, the sound of sirens haunting her background. It had been almost an hour since your last call and you could safely assume she had gotten out of the situation alive, the unsub apprehended and the team beginning their victory laps.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jareau, I thought it was someone else." And because your mind had emptied, because your thoughts had gone blank, your quips weren't;t as lethal as they always were, your guard lowered.

JJ snorted. "Oh yeah, like who?"

You spun your chair around, blurting out the first name that came to mind. "Penelope." And instantly your hand was slapping your forehead.

"Penelope? Is she not right next to you?" A breathy little laugh escaped her lips and you stared at the blonde tech analyst, eyes widened and hands gesticulating wildly to which she merely shrugged.

"Uh, yeah, she is...it's a, uh, game...we play." Your excuse was weak and asinine but it was the only one you could think of and if you could astrally project out of your body to smack yourself you would but you couldn't. "Anyways, did you catch the guy?" You asked, quickly changing the subject.

If JJ noticed the awkwardness, she didn't mention it. "Yup, so you won't have to wait too long to see this face if that's what you were wondering." That confidence, the confidence that you know understood was her way of flirting and also would probably be your cause of death.

And with that new understanding, your mind simply stopped working. "Good." And at the realization of what you had just said you attempted to recover. "I mean that's good that you'll be home soon, not good that I'll see your face- not that I don't want to see your face, it's a good face, symmetrical and all that-"

Penelope was waving her hands, signaling for you to stop and your hand was covering your own mouth to stop yourself.

JJ was silent for a moment, the sound of a car door closing before she was speaking once more. "Are you okay, Y/N? You're being...weird."

"Ask her out!" Penelope hissed and you smacked her shoulder.

"Was that Pen What did she say?"

"Nothing!" You shrieked, before clearing your throat, voice returning back to normal. "Nothing, just, uh,"

The Garcia woman was back to miming and you watched as she panto-mimed a date (very poorly, you might add, but it was enough to make you relax, shoulders regaining some movement).

"Do you want to go out for dinner sometime?"

The silence you had so loathed had returned with a sickening fervor and your stomach flipped at it. "With me...in case that wasn't clear." Your hand scratched the back of your neck, hot with embarrassment toward the entirety of this exchange.

And just when you thought you might die from the embarrassment or Penelope might faint from the whole ordeal, Jennifer responded.

"Yes."

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love (Modern!Ivar x OC) Chapter 1

So I recently joined the Vikings fandom (better late than never, right?) and could not get this one-shot out of my head. This is my first time writing for Vikings and writing Ivar. Let me know what you think. 

Also a huge shout-out to @saritanotserena​ for helping me with the moodboard. You are the best, babe! 

Words: 4300

Warnings: mild swearing, mild sexual content, mild angst?

Series Masterlist

 "I'm going to get something to drink!" Kari yelled into the ear of her friend, Alana, hoping she could hear it over the deafening music blasting from the nearby speakers. 

 Alana nodded, ignoring the brunette in lieu of the man who had his hands on her hips and cock grinding against her ass. 

 Without waiting further, Kari squeezed her way through the crowd on the club's dance floor and towards where their table was. For the umpteenth time, she tried to tug down the short, skin-tight black dress over her thighs, unsuccessful in covering the vast amount of skin showing. Even if Alana told her it looked fine and to stop worrying, it still made her personally self-conscious. Right now, she would much rather be at her shared townhouse eating popcorn and binge watching a show or reading one of her new books, comfortable in yoga pants and a soft sweatshirt with preferably no bra. Definitely no bra if she had a choice. But no, she had used up all the valid excuses she could conjure and now had to pay the devil his dues. Or in this case, go out clubbing with her friends. 

 Quickly, she made her way to the table and plopped down in a chair, reaching for the bottled water she was smart enough to bring this time. She ignored the couple sticking their tongues down each other's throat on the other side of the table as she took a sip of the water. Yes, she had told Alana she needed a drink but mostly she just wanted a break. She never wore heels unless for special occasions and with all the dancing she had been forced to endure amongst the mass of sweaty bodies, her feet and ankles were killing her. 

 She peeked at her phone, seeing the late hour and wondering if she could use it as an excuse to leave. She knew her friends planned to stay longer, or leave soon with company for the night. Perhaps no one would notice if she snuck away, feigning exhaustion or some illness. 

 As if sensing her thoughts, a voice called out to her from the other side of the table. "Don't even think about it."

 Kari looked up, meeting the narrowed, brown eyes of her friend across the table from her. "Rach…."

 "No, don't you, 'Rach' me." She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Kari. "I see you, and you are trying to figure out how to leave. It's not happening. You know the deal."

 "Please? It's getting late and there is no one here…"

 "Bullshit. Quite trying to make excuses. You agreed to the deal and you can't leave until you fulfill your side of the bargain and you bet your ass I'm watching." She leaned back against her boyfriend, brushing a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear. 

 Kari grumbled under her breath. "Doubt it. You've been trying to eat each other's faces the whole time."

 "What was that?"

 "Nothing."

 "What is the deal she agreed to?" Seth asked smugly, arms wrapped around Rachel's waist and laying soft kisses over her exposed shoulders and neck. 

 "Before Kari leaves tonight, she has to make-out with someone...and not just a quick peck either. Full. On. Snogging." Rachel answered with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a crooked smile. 

 Kari dropped her face in her hands, groaning. She knew there was a snowball's chance in hell that Rachel would have forgotten about what Kari reluctantly agreed to but still…. she had hoped. 

 Rachel continued speaking to Seth but Kari could feel those brown eyes on her. "She hasn't kissed anyone since her ex; so Alana, Jasmine and I decided that we needed to take matters into our own hands."

 "Her ex... shit, wasn't that like two years ago?"

 "Yep." Rachel popped the 'p' loudly. "Now, Kari, you get back on that dance floor and find someone or I will pick them out for you."

 Almost giving herself whiplash with how quickly she raised her head back up, Kari stared horrified at her friend. 

 "You know I would."

 "Shit…." Kari mumbled, fiddling with one of the diamond studs in her ear. If there was one ultimate truth in the world, it was that Kari did NOT want any of her friends picking out someone for her to make-out with. The thought alone made her shudder. To say they had different tastes was an understatement. Her friends seemed to prefer the big, Viking-looking, blonds that seemed to enjoy going outside and chopping down trees…. for fun. Her preference was for, well not that. She downed the rest of her water and stood up, tugging down her short dress once again. "I'm going to the bathroom."

 The blonde rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you better get back on the floor once you're done. We can be here all night if we need too."

 Kari scurried away without a response. She did not actually have to use the bathroom but used the excuse to check her makeup and hair...and hide…. possibly for the rest of the night. Hoping to kill even more time, she took the long way to the bathroom, pointedly looking at the floor to avoid encouraging anyone to approach her. 

 She stumbled past the short set of stairs leading up to the VIP section, silently cursing her heels. All she wanted to do was kick them off. It was becoming a miracle she had not face-planted yet. Making a mental note to never let Alana choose her attire again, she pressed on, moving down one of the half walls along the raised VIP section. 

 As if fate sensed her thinking about her loathed heels, it decided to do something about it. 

 Someone suddenly shoved into her, pushing past her on their way towards somewhere. All the brunette managed to catch a glimpse of was a long, blonde braid and a backless dress. The force was enough to lose her balance on the stupid heels and slam into the wall next to her, her momentum and gravity then yanked her towards the ground. Just as she thought she would at least fall to her knees or kiss the dirty floor, a strong hand grabbed her bare, upper arm, keeping her upright. 

 She staggered drunkenly for a moment, her hands automatically reaching out to grip the shirt of the person who magically appeared in front of her, and really saving her from utter humiliation. No exaggerations. At all. Utter. Humiliation. 

 Once her mind refocused on no longer falling to her demise, the first thing she noticed was that whoever was holding her was definitely a man. Not just because the person was taller than her, but the sheer size of the pecks underneath her fisted hands in his shirt and the broad shoulders were a dead giveaway. Even one handed, this person was holding her upright with ease. The second thing she noticed was his scent. Yes, she knew that thought was beyond creepy but her body decided to take notice. Not her fault. Obviously. She just got to enjoy the repercussions. Whatever cologne he was wearing, it should be illegal to wear out in public. It conjured images of a fire in a hearth, bourbon, hot sex under furs and debauchery. 

 In the next moment, she lifted her gaze, wanting - no, needing to know who this man was. To thank him for saving her. Of course. That was it. Yep. Not to sear his image into her brain to fantasize about later. Not at all.  

 As her eyes met his, any words of thanks died on her tongue. For whatever working brain cells she had left silenced under his gaze. Staring down at her was the most vivid, gorgeous and terrifying blue pair of eyes that both soothed and scorched under their allure. 

 He never spoke a word, just stared at her. His hand held onto her upper arm as if worried she was suddenly going to drop. 

 Later, she would blame it on the combination of his touch, that intense look in his gaze and his cologne that made her act irrationally. So, before her mind could convince her how stupid she was, how reckless this was, how outside of her normal behavior she was acting…

 ...she rose up slightly on her toes and kissed him. 

 His lips were surprisingly soft against hers but unmoving. Slowly she retracted, hurt by his inaction but honestly not surprised. It was probably for the best. This idea was a failure from the start. She did not even know the guy, he just saved her from falling. She should have said 'thank you' and walked away…. not…. not kissed him! Opening her eyes to meet his now painfully hardened gaze, it only confirmed her stupidity. Before she could apologize and retreat to hide away from the world for at least the next century, he spoke. 

 "Are you drunk?"

 His abrupt, harsh question startled her. Her answer tumbled out of her mouth before her mind could filter the proper response. 

 "What?...no, I've had like two drinks but that's it...wait. Oh gods! Was my kiss that bad? Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll just...sorry." She tried to pull away from him, face flushed from embarrassment. What had she been thinking? This was why she never just made-out with random guys. Whatever self-esteem she had evaporated beneath his piercing gaze. Her ex had called her frigid but this….

 His hand tightened ever so slightly on her arm, not enough to hurt but to certainly impede her desire to run away. His eyes bored into hers as if trying to read all the secrets of her soul. It was now, caught in this trap of his gaze, that she noticed the predatory glint in his eyes. She wondered if this was what a rabbit felt like while staring down a wolf, too frightened to move away. Well in her case, she was probably more of a hamster than rabbit. At least rabbits were fast and could try to hide. A hamster had no ability to outrun or outsmart a wolf. And everything about him screamed predator. 

 "Come." He commanded, releasing her arm and took a step to the side. 

 "Wha...what?" 

 He cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing. "Come. I am not through with you."

 A sharp shiver ran down her spine at the severe scrutiny sent her way but for some reason found herself agreeing. "Ohhh….um, ok." Her friends had wanted her to make-out with someone right? 

 She followed him, carefully ogling him from behind. The nice button-down he wore only accentuated the broadness of his chest and shoulders, plus with the sleeves rolled up and those toned forearms on show, he could have easily been just walking out of a photoshoot for some fashion magazine. Even the dark wash jeans and white Adidas sneakers could not deter from his overall striking appearance. His dark hair was long on top and shaved on the sides, something she had never seen before but it gave him a serious look instead of it being comical. 

 Surprise coursed through her when he started up the few steps leading to the VIP section. Somewhere she had never been nor expected to go. Only people with money or connections were allowed to be in there. She wondered which one of the two he was. It was also now as she followed him that she happened to notice the slight limp in his gait which drew her attention to the braces around his legs. Her mind wandered with questions as to why he needed braces. Had he been in an accident recently? Or surgery? Should he even be up walking? 

 Once they ascended the few steps, passing the bouncer at the top of the stairs who only gave her a passing glance before returning his eyes to the rest of the club, she continued to trail him to a short 'L' shaped couch with a low table in front of it. There were short half walls around all of the arrangements giving the illusion of privacy for those seated on a couch. Glancing around quickly, she could hear laughter and see some heads over the partitions but no one seemed to have paid any attention to her and the stranger she followed. 

 The man dropped down unceremoniously onto the black leather couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. Immediately, his intimidating gaze turned on her and she could not help but thickly swallow at the pure wicked look that sent shivers down her spine. Without a word, he held his hand out, beckoning her closer. 

 For the rest of her life, she would always question why she moved closer, why she took his hand, why she let him slowly guide her to straddling his lap. 

 All she knew was in the moment….it felt right. 

 "Good girl." He breathed out; rough, calloused hands held her hips steady over him. His fingers skimmed the hemline of her dress, now indecently high, almost no longer even covering her ass. 

 Her rational side screamed at her, reminding her she never did this, that she did not know this man. That if her family ever found out, gods forbid, they would probably disown her and not care if it left her starving in the streets due to her wanton behavior. Though their opinions no longer truly mattered in her life. 

 But her emotional side softly whispered that for once, to just give in, to let someone else be in control, to revel in the pleasure his touch brought forth. To throw caution and fidelity to the wind and enjoy life for once before she locked away her heart again. 

 Tipping her head forward, she pressed her lips to his once again. Where he had been unresponsive to her prior kiss, this time his lips slammed against hers, dominating and controlling. It sucked the very air from her lungs. Right now though, he could happily own all the oxygen she ever needed if he continued to kiss her like this. His hands slid to grab her ass, coaxing her even closer and drawing a needy moan from her. As her mouth opened, his tongue slipped in to explore as if he owned it. He kissed as if he was making love to her mouth and giving her a hint of what he would be like in bed. 

 Eventually she yanked her mouth from his, chest heaving and desperate for air. His head dropped to her chest and she gasped when she felt his tongue traced the line of cleavage her dress exposed. 

 "Fuck, you taste amazing." He whispered, practically branding the words into her skin as his lips tasted her. Before she could move or question him, his tongue was back on her exposed skin. This time it slid up from the hint of the valley between her breasts up her chest and neck to end with him sucking just below her earlobe. A whine, or was it a purr, was all her brain could handle, so overwhelmed with sensations she had never experienced before. Sure she had been kissed before but it had never felt like this. It all felt so…. tame compared to what this man elicited out of her. As if her prior understanding of fire was only looking at a lit match; while now she could only stare, completely absorbed by the raging bonfire that threatened to touch the sky with its unending flames. 

 Her hands shifted from grasping his shoulders to keep her upright under his onslaught to gripping his face and forcing his lips back to hers. A heat continued to build in her belly, an inferno that she wanted to dive into without fear or care of being burned. Her hips ground against him, feeling his hardened length between her legs only spurred her on. 

 "Fuck, kitten, keep going. Ride my cock." He growled into her mouth. 

 Before she realized it, the waves of pleasure and heat she had been riding exploded. She ripped her mouth away from his, head thrown back in a silent scream. She could feel his mouth move back to her exposed skin, kissing and sucking as he continued to grind under her. Her mind felt shattered into a million pieces but instead of frightening her, she felt pure bliss. Eventually she came back down from her high, her mind whirling with what just happened. 

 "What…." She licked her lips, wondering why her mouth was suddenly so dry. "What, um, was that?"

 "What are you talking about?" He asked smugly as he placed open mouth kisses along her chest and neck, never stopping his ministrations. 

 "Um, that feeling… I just...wow…."

 He stopped to tilt his head slightly and meet her gaze. "Have you never had an orgasm before?"

 Her eyes widened as realization swarmed her. Hastily, she tried to scramble off his lap but one of his hands grabbed the back of her neck, while the other still gripped her hip, forcing her to remain on his lap. His eyes scoured her, pupils blown wide but it was the dark, heated look in them that caused a whimper to slip from her lips. 

 "You never have…" he murmured, in something between surprise and a dangerous, boyish glee. Mumbling something in a foreign language, his wicked gaze never released her from looking away. One of his fingers returned to tracing her cleavage, teasing her occasionally as it dipped between her breasts only to continue its path. She could feel the heat slowly building in her core again, but if it was due to his touch or the devious smirk he wore, she was unsure. Never more had she felt like prey being toyed with by a hungry predator. 

 "Are you a virgin, my pretty kitten? Mmm?" He asked in such a filthy voice, it should never be allowed outside of a bedroom. 

 She whined, "please…" 

 Agonizingly slow, he leaned closer to her once again, his mouth just hovering over hers with a mischievous smirk that proved he knew what he was doing to her. 

 "Kari!"

 She jerked at the unexpected calling of her name. Turning to look over her shoulder, she could see Rachel and Alana both standing next to the bouncer at the top of the steps into the VIP section. Rachel was staring her down while Alana's blue eyes bounced back and forth between Kari and the man under her. 

 "It's time to go." Rachel yelled at her over the loud music, still easily heard this far away. 

 Kari turned back to...to him. "I need to leave."

 He nuzzled the crook of her neck, brushing her hair out of the way, before whispering into her ear. His hands never relinquished their hold on her. "Answer my question first."

 "I... I need to go. I'm sorry. Please. I just…"

 His hand trailed around her neck so he could grip under her jaw, forcing her face back up to meet his. His vivid blue eyes covetous in their intensity. "Answer. Me." His breath ghosted over her lips. 

 "Yes." The single word came out in a just barely heard whisper. 

 A hesitation, a pause, as if both were frozen in the moment due to her confession. Then his mouth slanted over hers in a greedy kiss, as if claiming her through sheer willpower and his ardent touch. Unable to help herself, she moaned into the kiss. Her hands gripped his shirt as if clinging for her life.  

 "Stay." He whispered against her lips. 

 "I can't…"

 "I'll bring you home. We aren't finished yet." As if to emphasize his point, he rolled his hips under her, his hardened length pressing against her wet core. 

 "Please, I'm sorry. I want to stay, I promise. I've never…. I…. I just need to go. I'm sorry."

 Deliberately slow, his grip on her loosened. First the hand on her neck, his thumb caressed her pulse point before dropping next to him on the couch. The hand on her hip glided up her body leaving a trail of fire in its wake, up to her arm and down it to her hand still clutching his shirt. Gently, almost reverently, he entwined their fingers. His blue eyes stared into hers as he helped guide her off his lap to stand before him. The lust was still evident in his gaze but now she noticed something underneath, something hidden by the ferocity. Yet she could not name it. Though it made her want to pull his head to her chest and just hold him, let whatever the unnamed emotion there bleed from him and comfort him. 

 "KARI!"

 She jolted at the frantic call of her name, pulled away from gazing into his eyes. 

 "Can I see you again?" He quietly asked, running his thumb along the back of her hand.

 "I hope so." She smiled gently then stepped away, before she did something stupid like give the man her number. That would be too forward for her. Turning her back to the man, she walked towards her friends. 

 Once she reached them, Alana slipped her arm through hers and they started to follow Rachel down to the main floor. At the last second the brunette looked over her shoulder to glimpse him one more time. His elbows were on his knees, body leaned forward and eyes glued to her as if trying to commit everything about her to memory. 

 For the briefest of seconds when their eyes connected, his gorgeous blue meeting her blue-green, she considered returning to him. To see what happened next so she never would have to wonder. To try and label what lay behind the dangerous glint in his eyes that she glimpsed. 

 Then her steps brought her to the main floor and away from his piercing gaze. She was too much of a coward to give in and taste the forbidden fruit he so freely offered. Even if a part of her wanted too. Her family rules seared into her brain since birth would never allow her too. 

 Quickly, the three women headed towards the exit. Just before they reached it, Rachel directed them to a semi-secluded alcove. 

 "What the hell was that?" The angry blonde demanded, turning on Kari with a vengeance.

 "What?" 

 "No, don't you fucking 'what' me! We told you to make-out with someone, not plan on getting fucking murdered!"

 Kari almost stumbled back at the venom in Rachel's voice. Her eyes bounced back and forth between her friends, trying to understand what she obviously was missing. "What are you talking about? Murdered? He was nice…. I thought."

 "Nice? Oh, he was nice?" Rachel stared at her for a long moment in shock. With a huff, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she harshly asked her next question. "Do you have any idea who that was?"

 "Um, no... we...he didn't say his name." 

 "Gods, you are so stupid sometimes." 

 Alana cut in, before Rachel could continue to berate. Her doll-like face ranging in expressions from concern to pity and fear. "Kari," she spoke as if explaining a simple matter to a child, her blue eyes pleading and intent on her face, "that was Ivar."

 "Huh?" Kari stated, dumbly, mind not fully processing what that meant. 

 "You know…. Ivar Lothbrok…." Alana gave a pained smile, tugging on one of her large hoop earrings under her blonde, pixie cut,"....one of the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok."

 The sudden knowledge felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head, freezing any semblance of warmth she may still have carried from their interaction. "What? I didn't…. are you sure?" 

 "Well the braces on his crippled legs should have been a damn giveaway." Rachel practically snarled. 

 Alana spoke back up, laying her hand on Kari's shoulder. "I know you haven't been here long but the Lothbroks have a…. reputation…. especially Ivar, for being, well, um, brutal. We just want you to be safe." She sighed and peeked over at Rachel. "Let's get out of here. Everyone else is waiting outside."

 "Ok." Was all Kari could say as her mind whirled with this new information. She followed behind them like a lost puppy, too absorbed in her thoughts to pay attention to where they were going. She could faintly hear Rachel harshly muttering something under her breath as they continued. 

 She knew who the Lothbroks were but kept that information to herself. Honestly, she probably knew more about that family than her friends did. She had listened to her uncle curse them enough times she had grown to associate their surname with a one-way ticket to the gates of Hell. If mortal enemies were a thing, her family and the Lothbroks would be that. 

 Her thoughts though stayed focused on a pair of brilliant, piercing blue eyes, soft, dark hair and a voice that called something out in her. There certainly was an aura of danger that hung over him like a shadow of doom plus with the predatory, wicked glint in his eyes, Kari could understand what they meant by dangerous. It was the other look her mind continued to replay over and over. Now away from him, she could pinpoint what it was. Vulnerability. When he asked her to stay- in anyone else she might have mistaken it for begging- that confidence he wore as a mask slid away just for a moment and allowed her to peek underneath. No wonder she wanted to crawl into his lap and hold him close. A part of her yearned to turn around and rush back to him to do that very thing. But her feet kept moving, following her friends. 

 She was not stupid, naïve maybe but not stupid. They wanted her to stay away from him. She could read between the lines well enough. Though if she encountered him again, she was unsure if she would be able to stay away…. or would want too. 

[emiliaclarkesdragons]

SECRETS: PETER PARKER X ADOPTED DAUGHTER!TONY (2)

« part one »

« part two »

Tony and Peter talked about the benefits of the internship, well it was more Tony talking and Peter listening. He looked a little gobsmacked as if this had come out of the blue and that's when I realised it probably had. I wondered what had caught Tony's eye, was he good with computers? Was he like Wanda?

"I've got some homework to do," I announced, leaving them at the table. I didn't really, I was going to go snooping. Tony didn't know this but I was able to access all the files he thought he had locked. I was somewhat good with that stuff, I think it was from spending a bit of time with Natasha before we found out who she was.

I woke up my computer and logged in, usually, I would use voice control but I couldn't risk Tony hearing me. He had a habit of sneaking up on me. A few taps on a keyboard and three access codes later, I had access to Tony's history. Every button he had pressed, every command he had spoken and everything he had done manually or through F.R.I.D.A.Y. I scrolled through and that's when I found the video. A boy dressed in a red suit swinging from the buildings and catching a car.

"What the fuck," I said quietly as I watched it over and over again. I knew this was why Peter was here. Tony was bringing together an army, a new avengers just to bring Steve down. I clicked off it and searched more. "What are you planning?" I asked aloud, there was a reason for Germany and I was going to find it.

It didn't take me long, and I knew what I would have to do next. I needed to reboot the queen jet it the garage but I needed to do it in a way Tony wouldn't know. And, that was going to be tricky. I was good at being invisible online but in reality...not so much.

I galloped down the stairs quickly and found Tony sitting on the sofa. "Where's Peter?" I asked.

"Calling his Aunt," he said and checked his watch. He stood up, "I have some business to attend, take out on me," he said practically running for the door.

"Hang on, what about Peter?" I asked, "I'm not babysitting!"

"Technically he would be babysitting you because he's older," Tony said. I stood with my hands on my hips and glared at him. He kissed the top of my head and said, "get whatever take out you want and I'll be back later on."

The door opened as his car pulled up outside. I watched him get in the car, grin and wave at me and speed off. I closed the door as I stepped back into the house. When I turned I saw Peter standing there with an old phone in his hand. "He'll be back in time for Germany," I said waving it off, "he does that a lot but good news is take out!"

Peter nodded. I wanted to ask him about his gift, but something stopped me and instead, I asked, "have you seen Tony's workshop? Has he given you a tour?"

Peter shook his head, "no, he only talked about Germany," Peter said though didn't expand further.

"He's a rubbish host," I tutted and encouraged him to follow me as I took him around the house showing off all of Tony's work. It was one of the reasons I never had friends round, there was too much to break, steal and take advantage of here, but Peter was different. Something about him was humble and I knew he wouldn't judge me. "And, now his work room," I said, opening to door, "I don't know what state he's left it in."

"Hello y/n and Peter," F.R.I.D.A.Y said.

I looked at peter with a delighted smile, "F.R.I.D.A.Y knows you already! Tony must have registered you on the system," I said. Then nudged him, "one step closer to avenger status," I joked and he laughed. His laugh was like listening to your favourite song and I made sure to make him laugh again.

"Do you want to try one on?" I asked.

Peter's face lit up, "really?" he asked, I nodded.

"Choose one, F.R.I.D.A.Y won't tell on us, will you?" I asked.

"Of course not, Miss Stark. Your secrets safe with me," F.R.I.D.A.Y said, lighting up the suits.

"I'll put one on if it makes you feel less awkward," I said, watching Peter as he walked in front of each suit. I could see he was trying to decide whether or not to put one on and then I could see him trying to decide which one.

"I can't," he said eventually, turning around. "It's not right."

I smiled, anyone else would have taken up that offer in a heartbeat, but I should have known Peter was different. "That's okay, F.R.I.D.A.Y wouldn't have allowed it anyway. She's a little tease," I said, holding out my hand for him to take. "Shall we watch a movie?" I asked as he took my hand.

We must have fallen asleep during the fifth film we were watching because when I woke, Peter was nowhere in the house. Instead, there was a note on the coffee table.

Thanks for everything, can we keep in touch?

And below there was a phone number followed by pp x. I folded it up and put it in my pocket, running down the stairs to my own workshop before setting out in the queen jet. Tony wasn't bringing Peter into his stupid fight without my say so. "F.R.I.D.A.Y? Play me something good," I said. F.R.I.D.A.Y said nothing, instead, Sabotage by Beastie Boys blasted through the speakers.

I know, it was a mad idea to fly to Germany, I didn't really know what I was getting into. Who knew what waited for me when I land, but as I flew closer I could see the fight was already happening. I landed in the field near the airport, locked up the queen jet and flicked my wrists which had bangles on them.

The bangles transformed to create my own green Iron suit. "Nice to see you again, y/n," F.R.I.D.A.Y said in my ear, activating flight mode for me. Wings pushed put from the back of the suit, lifting me in the air. I wasn't wasting any time and F.R.I.D.A.Y knew that.

I was a fair flyer, this was the fifth model Tony had made for me. I had always wanted to fly but I used to stress how much I wanted a suit with wings and not one like his. So, on my eighth birthday, I was given my first flying lesson with my own iron winged suit.

I performed a few turns and tricks as I reached closer to the fighting and their coms began filtering through. "What was that?" Sam said, "I saw something flying."

I spotted Tony immediately, he was fighting with Steve and so I dived down, knocking Steve down. "Hi, Steve. You doing alright?" I asked, standing over him, letting my helmet lift up so he could see my smile.

"Oi!" Tony yelled and I turned to him, "What are you doing here!"

"Helping!" I said, letting the helmet drop as I took off into the air as Falcon passed overhead.

"No, you get down here right now, young lady!" Tony shouted through the coms.

I flinched, "ouch! If you're going to continue to shout in my ear I'm muting you," I warned, letting a grin sneak on my face. I couldn't help but enjoy the chaos of the fight. I swooped down, tripping up Hawkeye as he made his way to Natasha. "Hi, Nat!" I said, waving as I passed.

Nat stopped mid-run and watched me flip and turn in the air. I watched from above until I spotted him. He had a new suit on but as F.R.I.D.A.Y picked up on his voice, I knew it was Peter.

I couldn't act on it as I saw Rhodes get hit by the abnormally large person. He was flying uncontrollably through the air, "guys, Rhodes! I need help, guys!" I panicked down the coms as I swung my zip tie around him and pulled back. It wasn't enough and I was being pulled along with him.

"I got it!" Peter responded and my heart fluttered, though I wasn't sure if that was through relief or something more.

I pulled back harder as I spotted Peter, he shot webs that wrapped around Rhodes. I dropped down so we were at the same height. Peter was pulled into the air and we both landed on the truck with a crash. But, we had stopped Rhodes from crashing and he flew back to the fight. I followed, knowing there was no time for small talk. "We need to take out the big one," I said.

"I got it, has anyone seen that really old film called Empire Strikes Back?" Peter said as he ran over the plane.

"Told you watching it would be useful," I said over the coms, after all, we had just watched it that night. I saw him slide to a stop and look over at me.

"y/n?" He questioned.

"Yeah, who else would it be," I laughed landing next to him, lifting my helmet and smiling at him, "let's get him," I said, holding out my hand. He held onto my arm and I gripped his. We were on the same page, and although he could swing around in the air, I would be able to give him more speed.

"Woooooooooo," He said and I could hear the grin on his face as I flew around the legs of the giant man.

Just as we thought out plan was unbreakable, the man began to fall and hit us with his hand sending up flying across the airport. I crashed to the floor, hearing the paint on my suit scrape off and Peter landed next to me. Before he hit the ground I used one of my wings to slow him down just a little bit.

"You two are done!" Tony scolded us both as he landed on his feet in front of us.

I let my helmet lift up as Peter took off his mask. After a moment I looked at him, "thanks for the note."

He made a whimper of noise and I took that as a 'no problem', but he sat up and inched towards me. "I really wish we had more time together," He said, I sat up.

"We do, we have all the time in the world," I said. I wasn't sure where this was coming from.

"But, what about your dad?" He asked.

"He doesn't have to know," I said. After all, Tony kept enough secrets from me these days, "it'll be our secret... if you want," I shrugged and looked after suddenly feeling exposed. I wasn't used to this. Feelings weren't my strongest suit.

He smiled and blushed, "I'd like that."

I nodded, looking away again and giggled. "Nice moves by the way," I said, referring back to the fight.

"Your not too bad yourself," He laughed, attempting to stretch his arms but he doubled over in pain.

an: thanks for reading :)

[youngerdrgrey]

I know you (even if you don’t want me to) // a batwoman fic, chapter 3

about: After finding out Batwoman’s identity, Sophie tries to trap Ryan with her newfound knowledge. If she’s going to be on the outside, she might as well have some fun – and maybe fall in love along the way. #Wildmoore

CHAPTER THREE SUMMARY: The burner doesn't work out quite the way either of them intend it to. Luckily, Mary has an idea that brings a little more fight into their lives. + read on ao3

previously: read chapter one + chapter two

.

.

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (07:13) Come on, I thought that was a good one.

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (07:45) Surprised you’re not nursing a hangover

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (07:47) It takes more than a few margaritas to keep me down.

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (07:49) Copy that

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (07:52) I’m surprised you’re awake. Shouldn’t you be sleeping by day to patrol the city by night?

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (08:03) You know I’m not actually a bat right?

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (08:05) Obviously. Well, if you need it, The Hold Up has great coffee during the day.

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (08:15) No thanks. Coffee stunts your growth.

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (08:17) Aww, are you speaking from experience? Because you’re so short?

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (08:18) Hey, “though she be but little…”

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (08:19) “...she be tiny asf”

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (08:21) af* no one uses the asf

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (08:22) Consider me no one then

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (08:23) Already there

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (08:24) Aww, you’re thinking about me?

2.0 🦇 to Sophie (08:30) Thinking about how to get you to stop texting me

Sophie to 2.0 🦇 (08:31) You could stop responding for one

(08:34) Okay, didn’t expect you to take the first piece of advice I gave you

(08:45) Fine. I did walk into that….

(09:01) Somebody left money to pay for my coffee. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?

(09:31) Thanks.

.

.

“Sophie, please stop staring at your phone.”

Sophie glances up from her multiple delivered messages. Mary’s wide eyes seem more wary than frustrated. Probably because she knows that it’s been three days since Ryan last texted Sophie. Mary has to know. Mary’s probably choking on the second hand embarrassment of watching Ryan ghost Sophie in real time. This is a pity girls’ day with pity mimosas and face masks.

Mary points at the newly decorated ‘Phone Rehabilitation Center’ basket on the coffee table. It’s next to the mimosa pitcher.

“It was a phone prison before Jordan came over,” Mary explains. “Your sister redecorated it.”

Sophie’s eyebrows scrunch together. “I didn’t know Jordan came over.” Is everyone welcome here except her? How does her little sister get to talk to Ryan before Sophie does?

Mary relaxes into her comfy chair. “Yeah, she and Imani came over to talk center stuff with Ryan a few days ago. Ryan was so pissed about how early the meeting was. She loves sleeping in.”

That explains why Ryan was up so early that day, but not the radio silence. Sophie picks up her own mimosa to seem more casual. She mirrors Mary’s position by leaning back into the couch.

“Does Ryan usually stay out late?”

Mary shrugs. “You know, with the bar, she can be out pretty late. And with her seeing Imani—”

“Imani?” Sophie shakes her head. That’s a second mention of this woman. “What happened to Angelique?”

“Um….” Mary’s eyes dart towards Ryan’s bedroom, then down to her glass. “You know, I am not... at liberty to say… because… I’m not supposed to know anything?”

Sophie drops her voice. “Mary.”

Mary rushes through her answer. “Batwoman saved Angelique, and then Angelique went into witness protection with the FBI rather than talking to the Crows again because she didn’t want to get snatched up like last time — no offense. But she stopped here before leaving because she wanted Ryan to go with her.”

“She what!?” Sophie’s drink sloshes as she jolts forward on the couch.

Mary throws a frantic hand up. “But Ryan obviously didn’t go with her! Ryan’s whole life is here in Gotham. It just, you know, made a pretty permanent break up for the two of them. This one coincidentally is not your fault.”

Sophie narrows her eyes at the dig. “Thanks for that.”

Mary grins. “Maybe with Angelique out of the picture, you and Ryan can actually be friends now.”

Unlike the fake friends that they’ve been the last few months. The ever-evolving enemies. The… Crow and the convict.

Sophie sighs. “I’m not the one with the problem, Mary.”

Mary opens her mouth to say something else, but the door rattles before she can finish. She knocks back the last of her mimosa and reaches for the pitcher. Rolls her shoulders like she’s preparing for battle.

Sophie turns on the couch to get a look at Ryan. She tucks a foot under her and keeps an arm on the top to keep her posture straight.

Ryan hasn’t looked up yet. She adjusts the collar on yet another flannel shirt while pocketing her keys in her jeans. She says, “Please tell me you didn’t drink all the mimosas on your own.”

Mary gives a distressed chuckle. “Nope, I got some help!”

Ryan finally looks up and stops cold at the sight of Sophie.

“Why is there a Crow in our loft?”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “You left the windows open.”

Ryan holds her hands up in mock defense. “My bad. Not used to being somewhere without bars on them.”

“Or without wheels,” Sophie offers.

Ryan falters at that. Her genuine shock turns from Sophie to Mary. “You told her?”

Mary stutters. “No, I-I definitely didn’t—” Mary looks to Sophie for support.

Sophie plants her other foot back on the ground. “I saw you, Ryan. You used to park near the quarry, and I run there in the mornings sometimes.”

Most times, actually. The first time Sophie saw Ryan parked out there, it seemed like a late night gone wrong. Like maybe Ryan had been watching the stars in the spot near the river. The quarry used to be a popular makeout spot, then the Wonderland Gang took it over, and then well, the Wonderland Gang was defunct. So, an empty quarry means a quiet spot with a nice view of Gotham. There are worse places to park.

Ryan’s eyebrows knit together. “But you never said….”

“Said what? ‘Wow, Ryan, how’s homelessness treating you?’ That would’ve gone over well.”

Ryan crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s going over great right now.”

Sophie takes a long breath in. This isn’t coming out right. But if she starts talking in specifics, it’ll freak Ryan out. It’ll make her run away again, just as they’re finally in the same space again.

Sophie reasons, “You weren’t a danger to yourself, or anyone else. I mean, you were watering your plant with a Britta filter for Pete’s sake.”

It was maybe the third or fourth time that Sophie saw Ryan there. Ryan was in another freaking flannel and shorts. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and Chaka Khan played from the van’s speakers. Ryan tipped over the last of the water in her filtered pitcher into her plant. And Sophie couldn’t look away.

But it seemed like a private moment, so eventually, Sophie left Ryan to it. Kept jogging and told herself not to look back.

Ryan’s soft laugh pulls Sophie out of the memory. Sophie’s eyes jump to Ryan’s, and for a moment, Ryan doesn’t hide. Doesn’t throw up a wall or a real deflection. She actually lets Sophie see her.

Sophie hopes Ryan can see her back. She isn’t here to make things more complicated, or to infringe on Ryan’s right to choose her friends. She wants to be here. She wants to know Ryan.

Does Ryan still sing to her plants in the loft? Was she joking about not drinking coffee, or is she seriously a tea kind of girl? Sophie’s not great with tea. Not great at waiting and finding the right mix of sugar to keep it from getting too bitter. Maybe Ryan could show her.

“Hey Ryan!” Mary yelps. She hits Ryan with a loaded stare as both Ryan and Sophie turn to face her. Sophie’s grateful that she can blame the slight darkening of her cheeks on the mimosas. “How’s Imani?”

Ryan doesn’t miss a beat. “Imani’s great. She’s watching my class tomorrow.”

Sophie’s surprised. “Are you in school?”

Mary answers for her. “Ryan teaches martial arts at the center.” Then Mary smirks. “She spent all of last week complaining that she doesn’t have a partner for demonstrations.”

Ryan glares daggers at Mary, but Sophie’s face brightens with the assist. Sophie gets to give Ryan the wide smile of possibility this time.

Ryan immediately shakes her head. “I’m going to kill you.”

Mary ignores Ryan and pulls her phone out of the rehab basket. After a quick peek at her calendar, she tells Sophie, “Class is at nine AM.”

Ryan groans. “Whose side are you on?”

Mary picks her mimosa back up. “We’re all on the same team, Ryan.”

Sophie picks hers up too. “I’ll even bring the coffee.”

Ryan purses her lips. Sophie waits for her to object to the coffee, but instead Ryan stomps over to the mimosa pitcher and takes the whole thing with her to her room.

.

.

Crowphie to Ryan (07:45) How do you take your coffee?

Ryan to Crowphie (07:49) I don’t.

(07:50) I live above a shop. You don’t need to bring me anything.

Crowphie to Ryan (07:52) In that case, you should be bringing the coffee.

Ryan to Crowphie (07:54) You’re hijacking my class AND making me bring you stuff?

Crowphie to Ryan (07:55) Pretty sure no one “makes you” do anything, Ryan.

(07:56) It’s fine. I’m making my own anyway.

Ryan to Crowphie (07:58) Why’d you ask if you’re making your own?

Crowphie to Ryan (08:01) It’s called making conversation.

Ryan to Crowphie (08:03) Well you’re making me late. See you at class

.

.

It is oddly satisfying to spar with Sophie. Their styles are different, and Sophie knows how to use her height to her advantage. On the other hand, Ryan’s used to being underestimated and gets to show her students how to turn that in their favor. Despite doing her absolute best, though, the kids only care about Miss Sophie.

“Miss Sophie, your hair is so pretty,” little Kylie says.

“Miss Sophie, will you be coming back next week?” Aaron asks.

“Miss Sophie, have you ever seen Batwoman?” Celeste — the little traitor — asks next.

Ryan has to walk over to the teacher’s table to keep from rolling her eyes at the kids. Imani watches her with a little grin. Ryan softens up enough to wink back. They usually sneak off once classes end. Find a nice corner of the center to make out in while the kids get picked up. Today, the kids won’t actually leave the room.

Sophie swipes a towel at the sweat on her forehead. Her skin’s flush in a way that Ryan tries not to pay attention to. She addresses each of the kids with their own individual smile.

“Thank you. I don’t know about next week. And yes,” Sophie gives an even wider smile to Celeste, the quiet preteen who’s already said more to Sophie in one class than she has to in Ryan in three, “I’ve even saved her.”

The kids close in on Sophie, forming a full circle around where she stands at the center of the room. Their questions all overlap. “Really? You saved her? When?”

Ryan bites down a sigh. Sophie answers, “A few months ago. We were trying to save somebody, and Batwoman got really hurt. We thought she was going to die.”

Aaron — a ten-year-old who wears his brother’s hand-me-downs — pops closer to Sophie’s face. Sophie instinctively leans back, but Aaron takes it in stride. “Batwoman can’t get hurt. She’s invincible.” Ryan smiles at him.

Sophie shrugs. “Tell that to her. I had to carry her all the way back. All by myself, like this.” Sophie holds out her bare arms like a freaking bridal carry. Ryan’s smile drops. There’s no way she’s letting Sophie lie like this to the kids. Sophie helped Ryan stand up, sure, but then Ryan was on a gurney with Mary pushing it. There was no crossing the threshold.

Celeste asks Sophie, “Did you see the Batcave?”

Sophie nods. “Yup. She can’t go to the hospital. So, she’s bleeding into her suit, and I’m just barely holding the both of us up as we crawl into the Batcave—”

Ryan can’t help herself at this point. She steps towards Sophie. “I’m sorry, crawl?”

Sophie lights up at the question. “It’s a cave. We had to crawl.”

“While you’re carrying her?”

Sophie nods again. “I can show you how we did it. You’re probably about her size.”

Aaron argues, “Batwoman’s much bigger than Ryan.” Sophie laughs.

Ryan scoffs. “I could take down Batwoman. You’ve all seen my moves.” She glances around, but all of the kids laugh at her. Even Imani chuckles before pulling her lips together. Ryan swipes her hands through the air. “Sophie’s lying anyway. No way she carried Batwoman.”

Sophie quirks an eyebrow. “You want to fact check?”

“Hell yeah,” Ryan says. A few kids ooooh at her curse word. “Go ahead and flip the signal.”

“I’ve got something faster.” Sophie crosses to the teacher’s table for her bag. Hers is right next to Ryan’s. Ryan’s, which most definitely has the Bat-Burner inside of it. Shit. Did Ryan remember to put it on silent? She can’t remember. It should be on silent, but she might’ve flipped it back to vibrate during the rescue mission.

Shit, shit. It will vibrate the moment that Sophie calls it. Ryan could try to write it off as her own cell phone ringing, but the timing would be way too suspect for Sophie.

Ryan makes a big show of rolling her eyes. “Right, like you’ve got Batwoman’s phone number.”

Sophie pulls her phone out and scrolls down her list of contacts. “See for yourself.” She holds it out for Ryan to see. The kids clamber to stand behind Ryan for a better view.

“2.0 with a bat emoji? That could be anyone,” Ryan says.

“I could call it. See if she answers, unless there’s some reason she might not be available right now.” Sophie has that look again, like she knows something that Ryan doesn’t. It makes Ryan’s blood boil. Makes her heart beat faster and her palms sweat.

Ryan needs to be faster. Needs a real excuse why Sophie can’t call right now that doesn’t undermine what she’s been saying. Her eyes dart to Imani, and Imani — bless her heart — must see the panic there.

Imani claps her hands together. The students groan before she starts talking.

“Alright, that’s enough excitement for today. Parents and guardians should all be at the front doors by now. You all should be headed home, so that the grown ups can head home too.”

The kids grumble, but they make their ways to the doors. Celeste lingers in the doorway after the others go.

“Miss Sophie?” she says. Sophie still holds her phone like a detonator.

“Yes?”

“I really hope you do come back. And I’m glad you saved Batwoman, even if Miss Ryan doesn’t believe you.” Celeste throws a little smirk at Ryan. “See you next week.”

Ryan waves her out of the room. “Go on, traitor.” Celeste laughs on her way out the door. Ryan steps back so she can sit on the teacher’s table.

Imani slips next to Ryan and sits down too. She keeps her body angled towards Sophie and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Batwoman’s number, huh? What else have you two gotten up to?” Imani teases.

Sophie barks out a laugh. “It is not like that.”

Imani nudges Ryan in the side. Tries to get Ryan in on it. Imani calls, “Bullshit. All those quiet nights on the rooftops, saving her, quietly nursing her back to health?” The leading tone mixes with the highest suggestive eyebrows that Ryan has ever seen. “I don’t know, even the way you say her name.”

Sophie says, “What, Batwoman?”

Imani sighs it out, mockingly. “Batwoman. You can admit that you’ve got a crush.”

Ryan adds, “On the O.G. definitely.” Sophie loved Kate.

Imani quickly corrects, “No offense to the O.G., but I’m talking about 2.0. Have you seen the way she fills out that suit?”

Sophie’s widening eyes meet Ryan’s for a second. Sophie drops her eyes to the floor. “I haven’t noticed,” she says, but her voice sounds smaller. Airier than normal. Is she lying?

Imani jokes. “Girl, are you sure you’re gay? The visits to The Hold Up made me wonder, but—”

“Yes,” Sophie sounds defensive immediately, “I am very, very gay. I am part of the reason The Hold Up even exists. My ex — Kate — started the bar after the owner across the street was homophobic towards us.”

Imani cringes. “Very passive aggressive. Do you get free drinks for that honor?”

“Not yet, but I’ll ask the manager.” Sophie’s shoulders relax. Ryan breathes a bit easier too. Good, a subject change.

Ryan grins. “Request denied.”

Sophie smirks. “That’s not what you said the other night.”

Imani furrows her brow. “The other night?”

Ryan resists the urge to say, It’s not like that.

Sophie clarifies, “Ryan kept me company when my date bailed.”

“Your date?” Imani sneaks a glance over at Ryan. Why is she looking at Ryan like that? Like she’s seeing something she doesn’t like?

Sophie rolls her eyes before answering, “Batwoman.”

Imani full belly laughs. All her tension evaporates, and Sophie mock-laughs along with her. “Oh, you got it bad. Do you know if this one’s gay too?”

They literally talked about it on the roof a few nights ago.

“She is.” Sophie pops the imaginary collar on her muscle tee. “She’s honestly pretty into me. She asked me out once.”

Ryan’s quick to interject. “You asked her out.”

Sophie corrects, “Only because she has the hots for me. I mean she practically admitted it when we were on that island.”

Ryan tries to keep her voice steady. “So she was dying and thought it was the right time to admit to a crush?”

“Heat of the moment, Ryan. She didn’t want to die without telling me.”

“If that’s true, then why did she stand you up last week?”

“You tell me. I don’t bail on set plans.”

“You bailed after the run.” Took off to fight Black Mask alone and left Ryan standing in the loft like a dumbass.

Sophie takes a step towards Ryan. “You’re still upset about that?”

Ryan hops off the table to get in Sophie’s face. “When was I supposed to get over it? While we waited for you to come back or the next day when you had absolutely no idea where Ang was?”

Sophie rolls her eyes down at Ryan. “Lucky for you, Batwoman put it together.”

“And lucky for you, I’ve got better things to do than wait around for you to actually do the right thing.” Ryan glares up at Sophie, and the fire in Sophie’s eyes threatens to burn them both.

Imani clears her throat. Ryan refuses to back down from the staring match. Sophie cools.

Imani asks, “How do you two know each other again?”

Ryan snaps, “We don’t,” at the same time that Sophie says, “Mutual friends.”

Sophie scoffs, but the fire’s already dimmed into something a lot like disappointment. “You know, there is a lot we still don’t know about each other, Ryan.” She breaks the stare to pick up her bag. “Thanks for letting me join the class. You two have fun.”

“We will,” Ryan assures her. It comes out more forceful than she means. She doesn’t have anything to prove to Sophie.

Sophie gives a short wave to Imani on her way out the door. Ryan flops back against the table.

“Can you believe her?” she asks Imani.

Imani bites her lip, then says, “Her, yes. You… not so much.”

Ryan glances over. “What do you mean?”

Imani drums her fingers on the table for a beat before answering. “Whatever weird competition you two have going on… maybe don’t bring it in here.”

“I didn’t—”

Imani talks over Ryan’s objection. “Having an extra instructor could be nice. Don’t drive her off just because she’s a Crow. If Jordan can vouch for her, we’ve gotta give her a chance.” She takes Ryan’s hand and squeezes it. Ryan tries to steady her breathing again. Let go of the extra energy from fighting with Sophie. “Plus, I want to meet Batwoman one day, and Sophie might be able to make that happen.”

Ryan uses her free hand to cup Imani’s cheek. “Anything Batwoman can do, I can do.”

Imani leans into the touch. “Can you throw me over your shoulder and carry me out of here?”

“Oh, you’re into that?”

“I wasn’t, until Sophie mentioned it.”

Ryan lets go of Imani’s face. “Nope. You ruined it. I’m outta here—” Ryan pushes off the table, and Imani wraps her arms around Ryan’s waist to tug Ryan back to her. Imani kisses the side of Ryan’s neck.

“Relax. You’re so sensitive today. And not the good kind.”

Ryan pouts. How is she supposed to relax when Sophie is everywhere? She’s on both of Ryan’s phones, at The Hold Up, at the loft. The only place Ryan can get away from Sophie is in her dreams. Ryan has to get rid of Sophie. And set the record straight.

“You know she didn’t carry Batwoman, right?”

Imani kisses Ryan again. “Let her have her crush, babe.”

.

.

Luke scoffs. “Not a chance.”

Ryan nods frantically. “Luke, I’m serious. Sophie has a crush on me. Not me me.” Ryan throws a hand towards the Batsuit on the mannequin. “Her me.”

Luke glances from Ryan to Mary. “I’m sorry, you called an emergency meeting because Sophie has a crush?”

Mary squints at Ryan. “It is a little extreme, Ryan.”

“She practically confessed her love to my class today. We’ve got to make it stop.”

Luke reaches a hand out. “Here’s an idea: tell her who you are.”

“Absolutely not!” Ryan says.

“I don’t know a faster way to make her rethink her feelings. If she knows it’s you, she’d drop them in a heartbeat.”

“Okay, ouch.” Ryan’s not a bad person to have a crush on. She’s sweet and attentive and affectionate. She’s dorky and vibrant, though she does get defensive at times. She’s also really hot and adorable. She’s the total package!

“No offense meant, Ryan, but come on, you and Sophie?” Luke shakes his head. “It wouldn’t work.”

The more he says it, the more that defensive streak in Ryan kicks up. She could make it work with Sophie if she wanted to. Sophie’s a badass when she’s not fighting for the wrong team. She’s super smart and quick to action, and has he seen her arms?

Ryan swipes her hand down her face to focus. “We need to get her to back off. Before she gets hurt, or blows my identity. How did Kate handle this?”

Mary says, “I’m pretty sure Kate went along with it.”

Luke agrees. “Kate was also in love with Sophie. She only broke it off because she wanted more than secret make out sessions between missions.”

Ryan hums in thought. “Maybe that’s the answer.”

“You can’t kiss her!” Mary says.

Ryan waves her off. “Not that! Kate!” She turns back for the elevator. “Thanks, Team! You’re a big help!”

“How can Kate help?” Mary calls after her. “Ryan! How!?”

.

.

a/n: any guesses on how Kate could help? Does Sophie really have a thing for Batwoman, or is everyone projecting? What do you think?

also, reply and tell me if you'd rather have a chapter asap or if you'd rather know that it's being updated on the same day

+ READ CHAPTER FOUR

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Seven - A Pretty Little Ribbon

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5K

“I’m telling you Y/N, you’ve got such a glow to you!” Mei exclaims, dangling different colored ribbons next to your dress to see which would match better.

“Mei, that is what people say in regards to pregnant women.” You explain, playfully glaring at her. You were currently dressed in your undergarments and sat in your vanity chair, waiting for Mei to finalize every detail of your outfit.

“Well then, you’re brimming with excitement. And because of that,” she says, picking up your dress and the ribbon she decided on, “I know you aren’t going to be accompanied by Lord Iida.” You freeze up a bit at her words. Was I really so miserable when I was with him? You thought. You thawed, though, when Mei placed a caring hand on your shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Y/N. Your heart was just ensnared by someone else, not letting your feelings budge. It’s a marvel when that happens to a young lady.” You nodded and gave her a smile through your mirror as she began to fiddle with the buttons on your dress.

“That’s a lovely choice, Mei. The design is quite unique, do you know where it’s from?” Mei’s simple smile turned into more of a mischievous one.

“It was a gift. Lovely color, isn’t it?” It’s then when you put the pieces together. The dress was an ivory color and had a beautiful lace overlay, but what caught your eyes was the waterlily yellow ribbon that was tied around the empire waist. Shouto. Not long ago, you remember yourself telling him he would never see you in yellow again. How cheeky of him to have sent along that dress, but it made you admire him a little more. Finally, you were seeing the smart and cunning side of the duke’s son. 

“Indeed,” you confirm, letting Mei help you into the dress. She fasents the small buttons quickly and then moves onto your hair.

“I think a ponytail will do nicely with this dress,” Mei decides, bringing your ornate brush to your hair and untangling it. “The ribbon is wide enough so that it will look lovely.” You let Mei twist your hair in whichever way she pleases. In the end, it always looks good. As she’s tugging the ribbon into place, you glance out the window to see the sun shining rather harshly.

“I ought to bring a parasol with me today.” You say absentmindedly.

“Want to borrow mine?” A sweet voice filters its way into your room, making you turn around to face your door. Ochaco is standing right outside your door, a cheery smile on her face. 

“Ochaco, how lovely to see you!” You greet, standing up and making your way over to your future sister-in-law. “What brings you here? Please don’t tell me Izuku is still holed up in that office making you wait.” You worry.

“Oh no, nothing of the sort!” She assures you, easing your mind. “He’s actually about to be on a break right now, so we were going to have tea.” 

“That’s good to hear. How have preparations been going regarding your wedding?” You wonder, letting Mei hand your lace gloves and clasp a dainty necklace along your neck.

“Everything’s almost finalized! It should be safe to say that the date shall be set for the end of the month. The both of you squeal in excitement.

“How wonderful! I’m so excited for the both of you, truly. It will be a dream to finally have a sister.” You and Ochaco share an eager grin. 

“Y/N, I hate to interrupt both you and Lady Uraraka, but the time might be getting away from us.” Mei warns. 

“Right,” you say sprucely, reaching to your side to grab your little hand purse. “Ochaco, I would love to accept your offer.”

The sun was beating down rather cruelly, and even through the shade of Ochaco’s parasol, the heat was still getting to you. You prayed that you wouldn’t sweat and if you did, you hoped that the lemony smelling perfume would be enough to drown it out. All around you, picnic blankets and canopy shades were set up with mothers sat beneath them conversing about the latest gossip while children were running around flying kites and playing ball. How far you have come from those carefree days.

“Y/N.” A soft and deep voice roused you from your thoughts, causing you to turn around and look for the speaker. Dressed in a smart-looking navy tailcoat, white breeches, and a soft cream-colored collared shirt, Shouto looked incredibly handsome. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long, the heat is absolutely blistering today.” He says, striding next to you and offering up his arm. You take it gladly, and the two of you begin to walk around the park.

“Not at all, I only just recently arrived.” You reassured him, offering a smile. He nods in return and the two of you settle into a silence, taking in the beauty of the day while also indulging in the little shade that the parasol gave off. It only took a few minutes for the temperature to rise even higher. Even with all of the tea and water you drank this morning in order to calm your nerves, your mouth was now undoubtedly parched. Shouto, too, seemed a bit too warm for his own taste. It was subtle, but you could hear him breathing a bit harder than normal.

“Would it interest you in going into town for a bit? I’ve heard there are some new outlets there,” Shouto suggests. The shopping district of town was certainly an attractive option to you at this point. Due to the tall buildings, the roads were usually cast in the shade and the stores were always fun to browse in.

“That sounds wonderful!” You agree, unconsciously tightening your grip on his arm out of excitement. His heterochromatic eyes seem to light up at your enthusiasm and immediately takes you to his horse-drawn carriage, letting you hop in as he tells his coachman the directions. You quite enjoyed the little ride, relaxing into the plush cushions of the carriage and making small talk with Shouto. You had a family carriage yourself, most young women of your status did, but like everything else, Shouto’s was just one step above.

“How is your brother? I hope he’s not overexerting himself by covering for your father’s duties.” Shouto asks, a slight worry laced in his tone.

“Oh, Izuku’s doing just fabulously with this whole predicament.” You reassure him, your smile showing how grateful you were for his concern. “I knew he would have to take over Father’s business and making sure that the family’s checkbook lined up correctly someday, but he’s doing very well.” Shouto smiles and leans back a bit in his seat.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” You think back to that night when him, Lord Bakugou, Lord Kirishima, and Lord Iida came over to your home in the early morning to help your brother adjust. After all, it was just the night before. Then, it dawned on you how you never apologized for your actions towards the very man sitting across from you.

“I really should have told you this sooner, but Shouto, I am so sor-” You are paused by the raise of his hand.

“Y/N, you have no reason to apologize to me.” He says sincerely, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “You did everything correctly. And while yes, your words did invoke some more than melancholy feelings within my heart, it was my fault that they were urged to be spoken in the first place.” His words are firmly put.

“Okay,” you agree, your cheeks a bit more flushed than normal.

“We’ve arrived, your grace,” Shouto’s coachman says from outside the carriage. Much to your chagrin, you unconsciously squeal with excitement as the door opens, causing laughter to escape from Shouto’s mouth.

“Shall we?” He asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“We shall!”

“So, where would you like to go first?” Shouto asks as the two of you wind your way down the busy road, peering into the windows of stores. A little boutique caught your eye immediately.

“Ooo, that place looks just lovely!” You say, pulling him a little bit towards it. As the two of you entered the store, your eyes lit up. It might be a stereotype that women of your age were obsessed with fashion, but you didn’t really care. The dresses, accessories, ribbons, and hats that were displayed along the store walls and on the store floor were just to die for. And, like a bee in a flower field, you dotted around to look at all of them, Shouto in toe. You let your finger trail along a beautiful, baby pink lace ribbon.

“Would you like it?” Shouto asked, his voice lowered due to the privacy of the two of you and out of respect for the rest of the patrons in the store. You feel your heartbeat speed up as you felt his breath on your ear.

“It certainly is beautiful, but I left my billfold at my home.” You say, letting the ribbon slip from your fingers and swing back to its spot. “I’ll just come back a bit later in the week to purchase it.” You say, smiling and moving on to the next display to peer down at the fabrics. Unknown to you, Shouto takes the ribbon and hands it two a store worker beside him. He whispers a few words to the worker before following dutilly behind you as you ogled some hair combs. You came across a quite obnoxious looking one, the little silver comb absolutely covered with huge fake pearls and enormous enameled flowers. You put your hand over your mouth slightly to prevent the giggles that would’ve escaped otherwise.

“Y/N?” Shouto asked, causing you to snicker. Shouto’s eyebrows rose, a surprised but happy look on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just,” you whisper-laugh, covering your mouth with both of your gloved hands now. “This comb is simply outrageous.” Shouto’s gaze follows yours to the comb in question. As soon as he takes it all in, he too has to stifle his laughter.

“It is quite ridiculous,” he agreed, chuckling. From beside you, a helper was shooting you a less than enthused look, so you patted Shouto’s shoulder.

“Alright, I think we might’ve overstayed our welcome.” You murmur to him, earning a quick nod.

“I will be right behind you, I just need a moment longer.” He says, earning a raised eyebrow but nothing more as you smiled and exited. You only had to wait but a moment until Shouto exited the store, letting the door swing back and jingle as he held a small parcel.

“Oh, I didn’t know you wanted to purchase something! I would’ve waited for you,” You frowned, looking between him and his purchased item.

“Think nothing of it. Come, let me treat you to some cream ice. I’ve heard the flavors over in that parlor are the sweetest.” He says, letting you take his arm again and heading straight towards the little frozen desserts shop. The aroma lifted your already high spirits as you took a whiff, sighing happily against Shouto.

“Your Grace! What a pleasure to be serving you on this fine day. Shall I find a more private table for you and your lady?” You felt your whole body heat up. While yes, your intentions with Shouto and how you would like to further your future with him were clear to you, this was the first time anyone has referred to you as the young lady Shouto was courting. And it felt magnificent.

“That will do nicely, thank you,” Shouto says politely, letting the server lead the both of you to a shaded outdoor setting, only one table and two chairs occupying it. Shouto, ever the gentlemen, pulled your chair out for you letting you take a seat first before tucking you in, and then sitting himself down in the chair across from you.

“What will you and your lady partake in today sir?” The server asks, an over-enthusiastic smile on his face.

“I would like something with fruit, strawberry perhaps?” He asks as the server jots down his words dutifully.

“And what will your lady have?” He asked, still looking at Shouto. The red-and-white haired man looked in between you and the waiter.

“Well, you would have to ask the young Lady herself. Since she is the daughter of a Lord, I am sure she is perfectly capable of ordering ice cream. The smile on your face was now as wide as ever as the flustered waiter looked to you, your eyes locked with Shouto’s as he sprouted a smirk. If being gentlemanly wasn’t enough, he wasn’t overbearing either.

“I would prefer a Y/F/F flavor, if that is possible?” You asked in a saccharine sweet voice, your face painted as innocent as a lamb.

“Y-yes my Lady.” The waiter says, bowing to the both of you and quickly making his way out of the area. Now yours and Shouto’s laughter was perfectly audible.

“Thank you, Shouto. That was both eloquent and perfectly strict.” You compliment, reaching for the glass of water placed at your side.

“Well, no one should speak to a Lady like that in any way, especially you.” He says. “Oh, and before I forget,” he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the parcel, sliding it in front of you.

“For me?” You asked in surprise, you finger trailing around the twine that was keeping the little parcel wrapped.

“Indeed.” A giddy smile takes over your face as you carefully unwrap the parcel, letting the paper fall to the side revealing the ribbon that you were so interested in earlier.

“Oh, Shouto…” you breathe, lifting the baby pink lace ribbon. “You really didn’t have to-”

“I did.” He interjects, his voice steady. “And I expect you to get used to it. Before long you will be showering in a mountain of gifts and affections from me.” He says playfully, earning an eager look from you. Taking advantage of the moment, you reach up into your hair and let the ribbon you were currently wearing unravel, letting your hair curl around your shoulders. Quickly, you tie it back up with the ribbon Shouto got you, letting a pleased smile spread across his cheeks. “You look absolutely radiant.”

“It must be the dress color. I think it looks well on me, does it not?” You say cheekily, earning a chuckle from Shouto.

“You truly do wonders with yellow.”

[kaylaxwrites]

Resurrection

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Words: 2200 Summary: Matt is dead. Until he isn’t.  Request: “Do you think you can do a Matthew Murdock x Reader where they were in like a pre-exisiting relationship, but then Defenders happen and it is like set in Season 3 time and she is finding out that Matt is back from Karen and Foggy instead of Matt himself.” (anon) A/N: Maybe this isn’t exactly how you wanted it to go, anon, but I hope you like it nevertheless! There’s a little less fluff at the end than what you probably wanted, but I liked those lines as the last ones and I wasn’t exactly sure how to go past them. But enjoy!

You curled up with Matt on the couch as gentle music floated through your speakers. The attack on Midland Circle was going to happen any day now and you were spending as much time as you could with your boyfriend, unsure of what might happen in the coming days. If there would be time together after. It wasn’t something either of you were willing to voice, but the thought rested heavy on both your shoulders.

Matt played with your hands. “I was thinking about the future…” he tried to bring up casually.

You cut him off. “I thought we agreed to not think about what might or might not happen,” you said, sitting up to better face him.

“I—we did. But this is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time and I want to ask before…” Before I die. Even without saying them, the words hung heavy in the air. Matt fished into his pocket and pulled something out. He kept his fist tight around it so you couldn’t tell what it was. “I’d have a lot of regrets if I didn’t ask, so…” He slid off of the couch and knelt in front of you. He unfurled his hand to reveal a beautiful ring. You gasped. “Will you marry me?”

The memory played in your head as you sat with Karen and Foggy in the middle of the precinct breakroom, waiting for the return of your heroes. You stared at the ring Matt had pushed on your finger that night, watching as it caught the light. He used it as a promise. When he made it back to you, you would get married. It wasn’t going to be a matter of if, but when.

Karen sat next to you as she clutched your hand tightly. It almost hurt, but you were squeezing back just as hard. This wait was killing you as each moment past without you knowing whether or not your boyfriend—your fiancé—was alive.

You quickly stood when someone entered the room. They were back! Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for Matt to arrive. Jessica entered the room first, looking exhausted as she searched the room for her sister. Luke and Claire stepped through the door soon after, holding each other’s hand tightly. Danny and Colleen followed soon after. Colleen’s white jacket was covered in blood. Your heart constricted in your chest.

Now it was Matt’s turn.

You stared at the door, waiting.

And waiting.

A n d     w a i t i n g.

Your world crumbled with each second until the floor fell from under you. Your knees buckled and you clutched the table for strength. But your legs couldn’t hold you up for very much longer. A warm hand under your elbow kept you from falling.

Luke.

You turned to him, a question on your lips. Where was Matt? Maybe he got held up outside? He had to change out of that ridiculous costume before walking in, right? Right? The words died before you could speak them, but Luke answered them anyway.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said and the phrase pierced your heart like a white-hot knife.

You shook your head, unwilling to believe it. Unwilling to let your tears fall. You turned to Foggy and Karen for confirmation. Luke had to be wrong. But Karen was crying into Foggy’s shoulder. The look on his face was heartbroken. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the door. Still waiting.

You dimly noticed Claire stepping by your side. You tried to make out the words she was saying, but you couldn’t focus. Matt is dead. You were pushed into a seat. Matt is dead. She knelt in front of you. Her lips were still moving. Matt is dead.

Matt is dead.

Your pain, your anger, your agony pooled in your stomach until it tore through your chest in a heart-wrenching scream. You collapsed in on yourself, sobbing, until there was nothing left in you.

That was months ago.

Matt’s body was never recovered.

Without a body, you couldn’t bury him and you were left without closure.

You avoided the apartment as much as you could—leaving first thing in the morning and staying out well past dark. The grief was too much for you to be there any longer, surrounded by him, his things, his clothes. Karen helped when she could. She would drop off food for you and allowed you to sleep on the couch in her office more times than you could count. Foggy would check in occasionally, but he could rarely bring himself to step foot inside Matt’s apartment.

More often than not, you found yourself visiting the church where Matt grew up. Catholicism wasn’t really your thing, but, oddly enough, you felt closer to Matt when you were here. The pain in your heart lessened and you finally felt like you were able to breathe. It also helped that Father Lantom wouldn’t constantly question you about your well-being, like everyone else you knew. Occasionally, he’d even bring you coffee and donut holes from the fellowship hall. And other times, he’d join you there in the very last pew, offering you silent companionship as you mourned.

You weren’t entirely sure why you found comfort in the church. The crucified Jesus statue at the front of the hall intimidated you and you were never entirely sure what was being depicted in the stained-glass windows. But you could feel Matt here at Clinton Church. You even thought you could sometimes catch glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye, but you knew the thought was ridiculous. Whenever you turned, there was only shadow and you knew your mind was playing tricks on you.

It didn’t help when Karen swore up and down that some masked vigilante she saw had to be Matt. An argument had nearly exploded when she first brought the topic up and you hadn’t talked much with her since. You didn’t want your hopes to brought up, only for your heart to be shattered all over again whenever they found Matt’s body at the bottom of Midland Circle. You didn’t know if you could handle that kind of pain again, so you refused to believe it.

You didn’t want to believe even when Foggy told you himself.

You were surprised when Foggy knocked on your door early one morning. You were just about to have a quick breakfast and leave for the day when he arrived. “Foggy, what are you doing here?” you asked as you opened the door. He was dressed in a suit and tie and held his briefcase in his hand. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Good morning to you, too,” he tried to joke. He ran a hand over his hair. His eyes were red and tired. When he sat on your couch, his leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. He was upset. “You should sit down. We need to talk.”

Panic filtered through your chest. Your heart pounded. You quickly hurried to the chair opposite Foggy, stumbling in your haste. “What? Why?” You gasped. “Did—did they find him?” Your words were barely audible.

Foggy shook his head. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You weren’t sure how to feel—were you relieved? Should you be upset? Were you angry?

“No, it’s, uh… It’s…” Foggy stumbled to find the correct words. “Matt’s alive?” he said at last, but it sounded more like a question.

You quickly stood, turning to face away from him. You scrubbed your hands over your face before crossing your arms protectively over your chest. “Get out.”

“No, Y/N, wait—” He placed a hand on your shoulder and you angrily spun to face him.

“No, Foggy!” you exclaimed, tears welling in your eyes. “We’ve been through this! Matt is gone, okay? I don’t want it to be true as much as you do, but at some point—” Your voice cracked. “At some point we have to face the facts. At some point, we have to—we have to realize that…that an entire building fell on him.” You throat grew tighter with each word and it was getting difficult to speak. “H-How could one man survive that? And if he did, why wouldn’t he…why wouldn’t he—” Your voice finally gave out, the pressure in your throat so tight you could hardly breathe. You pressed a hand against your mouth, trying to will the tears away.

Foggy finished for you. “Why wouldn’t he call us? Why wouldn’t he come see us? Why wouldn’t he give us a sign?” You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. “I asked myself the same things. I honestly thought Karen might’ve been going crazy when she suggested that maybe he was out there. But she’s right.” Your eyes flew open. “Matt, he…he found me last night and—”

“He found you? And you saw him? In the flesh?” You needed the clarification. Maybe Foggy just saw someone who looked like him or was imagining things.

“I saw him, clear as day. I hugged him, I felt him, he was real. He was alive.”

You took a stumbling step back, trying to process what you had just been told. Foggy kept talking, saying something about Fisk, but you weren’t paying attention. Your energy was spent trying to wrap your head around the fact that Matt was alive.

You knew you should have been relieved, happy even, but you were angry. Angry he didn’t come to find you to serve as messenger he was alive. Angry he didn’t come to find you at all. Angry that he had been hiding this whole time. Whenever you had entertained the idea that Matt was alive, you always imagined that maybe he was in a coma or had amnesia and that was why he never called, never came home. Where had he even been staying this whole time? You knew for a fact he wasn’t coming to the apartment…

And then it hit you.

The church. He had been staying at the church.

You raced to find some shoes and threw a jacket over your shoulders. “Where are you going?” Foggy demanded.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” you answered, lacing up your sneakers.

“To who? Matt? I don’t even know where he is!”

“I do,” you threw over your shoulder as you made your way out of the apartment. You slammed the door behind you.

You didn’t hear Foggy muttering as you left, “Sure, Y/N, that’s fine. Leave me in the dark. I’ll lock up your apartment. No worries.” On his way out, he stole the pieces of toast you had abandoned on the kitchen counter.

You stormed into the church, stomping your way up to Father Lantom’s office. He had barely said “come in” before you were throwing open the door and striding to his desk. “Where is he?” you demanded before the Father could get a word out of his mouth.

“Where’s who?”

You anger and desperation nearly washed out of you then and doubt crept in. Maybe you were wrong and Matt hadn’t been here. Maybe Foggy was wrong and he wasn’t even alive. “Please don’t play dumb with me,” you begged. “I need to see him. I need to see Matt.”

He opened his mouth to speak—maybe to question how you knew, maybe to question your sanity—but then he shut it again. Sighing, he stood and closed the book on his desk. “Come with me,” he said and he led you out of the room.

He led you to the church’s basement, which you had never been to before. As you reached the last flight of stairs, you nearly (quite literally) ran into a nun. It was Sister Maggie, you realized. She had offered you condolences on one of your first visits here. She glanced you over before raising an eyebrow at Father Lantom. “It’s time,” he offered. But time for what, you weren’t very sure. Sister Maggie sighed and continued her way up the stairs. Father Lantom ushered you forward, but didn’t follow as you rounded the corner.

You gasped when you laid eyes on Matt for the first time in months. He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was a little paler than usual. You took a small step forward and his head darted up as he noticed you for the first time—too busy in his thoughts, you assumed, to notice you earlier.

He seemed to panic for a moment, surprised at your unexpected visit. “What are you doing here?” he asked after a moment’s silence.

Agitation rolled through you, washing away your initial relief at seeing him in one piece. Those were the first words he was going to say to you? “‘What am I doing here?’” you repeated, your voice creeping up into shrill tones. “I could be asking you the same thing!” You crossed over to him in three strides and shoved his shoulder with all your might. “What the hell were you thinking? I’ve been distraught for months thinking you were dead.” You continued nearly screaming at him, unleashing months’ worth of pain and sorrow. Your anger channeled out through blows to his chest, which he made no motion to stop.

Then he put his arms around you and you nearly collapsed, sobbing into his chest. You held him tight with every ounce of your strength. “I hate you, Matt Murdock.” But there was no truth behind the words. You loved him with every fiber of your being.