#woo! I’m working on the chapter but it probably won’t be ready this week

[inkspottie]

TV taught me how to feel, now life has no appeal.

[redrose10]

Chapter 14! Honestly I didn’t expect this go past 4 or 5 chapters in total so this is crazy, but I really appreciate all the feedback and love that I’ve received. I think this chapter and the next one are going to be quite the roller coaster ride.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,018

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

“Alright, I just texted Suri to let her know that I told you about the baby and that you’re really upset and trying to leave. I asked if she wanted to come over and talk this through. She said she’s on her way.”, Yoongi said taking a seat next to you. You were still nervous about this whole thing. Even though the previous week had been spent doing everything to prepare. Making sure everyone’s stories matched up. Woo-Sung came over for dinner and he was even more handsome and charming in person which made Yoongi turn into a jealous rude jerk causing a small argument, but the two of you recovered quickly. Your bags were already packed and hiding out in your room. All you had to do was put your acting skills to the test when Suri got there and make it believable.

Yoongi noticed that you were still uncertain about the whole situation by the way you kept twisting your wedding ring around your finger. A nervous habit of yours that he had picked up. Gently he placed a hand on your thigh giving it a light squeeze.

“Text me when you get to Jimins and call me if you need anything at any point. I’ll keep you updated too.”

You nodded in acceptance, “I will Yoongi. I just hope everything goes smoothly.”

“We’ll make it wor-“

There was a knock at the door that interrupted you both.

He looked over at you with a sly smile, “Show time.”

He gave you a quick kiss before jogging over to the door. You ran off to your room to wait for Yoongi to join you. It had only been seconds, but already felt like hours.

Yoongi swung open the front door greeted by a smug Suri sipping on an Iced Americano.

“Glad to see you finally came to your senses.”, she said letting herself in.

Yoongi rolled his eyes closing the door behind her.

“Should you really be drinking coffee like that right now?”

“The doctor said a cup a day is fine. You’d know that if you bothered to show up at all for our baby.”

He had to take a deep breath and remind himself to stay calm before he snapped and ruined everything.

“So where is the little boyfriend stealer? Did she leave already? I definitely want to turn her room into the nursery.”

Yoongi couldn’t believe just how delusional Suri had become. He almost felt bad for her.

“She’s still packing some of her stuff.”, he responded.

“Good. I want her out of my house.”

“Alright Suri. That’s enough now. Let’s just relax.”

While she made herself something to eat Yoongi paced back and forth a little trying to calm his own nerves. He had been trying to put on an act for you, but deep down he was nervous himself. There was a lot riding on this and he knew how dangerous Suri could be.

“I’m gonna go check on Y/N.”, he said watching as Suri already made herself comfortable. Once he entered your room he felt a sense of relief when he saw you sitting on the bed.

“Ready?”, he whispered. You nodded.

He chuckled before taking a big breath and shouting, “Y/N, can we just stop and talk about this?”

“No Yoongi we can’t. You got another woman pregnant. Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?”

“I do know Y/N. I am so sorry. Just please let me try and fix this.”

“There’s no way to fix this. You have done nothing but hurt me since the day we met when all I wanted to do was to try and love you and make this work between us. Do you know how that has affected me? What that’s done to me? How many nights I was alone and I cried myself to sleep listening to you fuck other women? And now one of them is pregnant on top of it. From now on I am merely your date for the evening when it’s required of me. That’s all. I hate you Min Yoongi.”

When you were finished you were slightly out of breath and felt a burning sensation in your eyes as your vision blurred from the tears that were forming. At that moment you realized that maybe you weren’t acting so much after all. Yoongi seemed to realize too as he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He squeezed you so tight you had a hard time catching your breath. “I’m so sorry Y/N. It will never happen again. I swear on everything that I will never intentionally hurt you again.”, he whispered in your ear.

When you pulled away he wiped away your tears before handing you the small bags you had already packed and opened the bedroom door for you giving you a kiss.

“Call me later.”, he mouthed.

“Go fuck yourself Yoongi.”, you yelled followed by a smirk that turned to a silent giggle watching him act dramatically hurt by your words.

Slamming the door you stormed off towards the entrance way not even paying Suri any attention, afraid that you might blow it all and laugh if you looked at her.

Once in the hallway you took a moment to catch your breath and compose yourself. You were quite proud of your little performance and it felt great to finally get some of that aggression out.

You texted Yoongi once you got to Jimins to let him know you were safe and to ask how everything went once you left. According to him Suri believed everything and was beyond happy you were out of the picture.

The following week should’ve been relaxing in theory, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Yoongi called you every day and even snuck over to see you after work a couple times. He reassured you nothing had happened with Suri and he had managed to convince her to sleep in the other room without much of a fight. She seemed to just be basking in the glory of thinking she finally won. You also had the bonus of spending a lot of extra time with Jimin, the two of you spent most nights up late watching tv and snacking on various goodies while partaking in the occasional gossip.

Your worries came to the forefront of your mind on Friday and everything quickly came crashing down around you. It was the day before you and Woo-Sung were supposed to head over to Yoongi’s to get some more of your things. Jimin had headed to the office pretty early that day and you hadn’t heard from Yoongi yet so you spent the day alone.

While laying in bed you could hear your phone ringing from its spot on the table where it was charging. Really you wanted to just ignore it and let it go to voicemail, but then you got worried something could be wrong. Walking over you saw a familiar name flashing on the screen.

Mrs. Chan lived next door to you and Yoongi. She was a tiresome older woman who had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with which led to constant complaints on her part. Always little things that most people wouldn’t even notice. You once heard from the security guard that she complained to the manager of the apartment complex where you all lived that she didn’t like the color of the red lettering on the exit signs around the building. They were too bright and she demanded a more muted red be installed. It still makes you laugh thinking about it. The only reason she even had your number was because you watched her dog one time while she went on vacation a few months ago. Something you’ve regretted ever since. You weren’t really in the mood for her, but once again your anxiety got the best of you and you answered the call to make sure nothing bad happened back home.

“Hello Mrs. Chan. How are you doing?”

“Oh well I’d be a lot better if I didn’t have to walk past your husband and his mistress all over each other like a couple of horny teenagers out in the hallway of our apartment building.”

Your mouth went so dry you didn’t think you’d be able to breathe.

“Honestly dear, I don’t know why you let him act like that. You know if that was my husband, I’d put itching powder in every single pair of underwear he owned.”

Your brain was still having a hard time even forming words.

“Y/N, are you there?”

“Y- Yes Mrs.Chan. I’m sorry about that. Are you sure it was Yoongi.”

“Certain of it. I just saw him about ten minutes ago when I was coming back from visiting my daughter. He had his lips all over her, but I could recognize him. I could smell that cologne he always wears. You know, that cinnamon and vanilla smell. He was with that woman. You know long brown hair. Pale skin. I’ve seen her around many times. Looks like she’s starting to get a little bit of baby bump too. That’s definitely not a good look Y/N.”

The walls felt like they were closing in around you. It certainly sounded like she was describing Suri and who else would she be with other than Yoongi. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You thought you were going to be sick. After all the begging and pleading and promising he did, he still went ahead and broke your trust and it didn’t even take a full week. For all you knew he probably slept with her the night you left for Jimins.

“Alright dear, well I have to get going. Just make sure you say something to your husband or next time I’m gonna get out the spray bottle.”

“Yes Mrs. Chan. Thank you for calling me.”

With shaking fingers you placed your phone back down in its place.

Biting your lip you chuckled to yourself while you replayed in your head what you just heard.

That was the very last straw. You no longer felt like just relaxing in bed. You don’t want to just sit here and cry and feel sorry for yourself. Jumping in the shower you scrubbed at your skin, shaved, and lotioned up. You put on some make up and added a few light curls to your hair. Then you started digging around through the hall closet where you knew Jimin stored various articles of clothing left behind by old girlfriends and one night stands. You hoped you could find something decent in your size since you only packed your comfy clothes and needed an outfit that was more risqué to go along with what you had planned. Thankfully you found a skin tight black silk dress and a pair of strappy heels. They were a size too big, but you’d have to make it work. Taking a final glance in the mirror you were happy with your work. You took off the large diamond ring that you’d been wearing since Yoongi gave it to you at the start of your marriage and placed it down on the dresser not wanting that reminder to follow you right now. You started walking towards the door and while you took the steps you pulled up your contact list on your phone scrolling for the name you were looking for, the one person who had really been getting under Yoongi’s skin recently.

Once you found it and clicked dial it only took a few rings for a familiar voice to answer.

Putting on your best fake smile you reached for the door handle while putting your plan in motion.

“Hey Woo-Sung, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if you were free tonight. Maybe we could hang out and get to know each other a little better. I could come over to your place if you’d like. Yoongi doesn’t have to know.”

[summerofspock]

My patreon alternate POV request for August was an additional chapter of Under Construction from Aziraphale’s POV. I chose to write the night they came back from the beach and found Spider.

After a long day on the road, Aziraphale is looking forward to relaxing by the fire. Maybe having a beer and talking about nothing in particular with Crowley. He finds he likes doing that. Talking to Crowley. He knows how to have a meandering conversation. He knows that Aziraphale doesn't mean anything by his playful teasing, that sometimes it's fun to ask questions without any sort of answer.

Crowley offers to get wood for the fire which is a bit cute really since Aziraphale doubts he could carry more than two logs at a time. But it is the thought that counts.

His nice plans are interrupted when Crowley rockets back into the house stammering about a kitten stuck in the woodpile. It's not the first time Aziraphale has found a stray cat on his property but the woodpile will be a first.

He can hear it crying as soon. as they approach the stack of wood and he does his best not to worry. He can retrieve a kitten. With care, he begins to remove the logs from the stack.

"You poor thing," he says in an effort to calm the crying kitten. It sounds so pathetic.  "You'll be alright."

Crowley vibrates behind him, anxiety practically radiating off of him. He does that often. A stack of batteries has less energy than a Crowley in the throes of anxiety.

Finally, Aziraphale removed the perfect log, revealing the cowering black kitten. It blinks bright yellow eyes up at him as he reaches down carefully, ignoring the scurrying spiders, and lifts it into the cradle of his arms.

"There you go. You're safe now," he says softly. He swipes cobwebs from the kitten’s black fur and feels a surge of gratitude for Crowley for finding the poor dear.

Crowley dips closer, skinny torso weaving around Aziraphale like he was trying to get a better look. "What do we do with him?"

Aziraphale strokes two fingers down the cat's forehead and replies calmly, "I suppose feed him and house him for a night and figure it out tomorrow?"

The cat chirps almost in response. Aziraphale will need to go into town and pick up supplies. Shadwell should have a few things at the general store that will do fine for one night. Aziraphale hands Crowley the cat.

Looking lost, Crowley takes it gingerly. His eyebrows furrow as he pulls the creature close to his chest and tries to pet it, albeit a bit clumsily, shifting it from hand to hand as he tries to adjust. His palms are wide enough that they can fit the kitten almost entirely. It’s strange that Aziraphale notices. He sees the tendons flex in Crowley’s fingers as he cups his hand. Aziraphale’s vision narrows to the contrast of Crowley’s pale skin against the dark fur of the cat. It begins to purr, a low satisfied hum.

Aziraphale tears his eyes from Crowley’s hands—good hands, gorgeous hands—and looks at his face. Crowley is staring at the cat in his arms, mouth slightly ajar. He glances up at Aziraphale and his expression does something amazing. His sharp features transform into a disbelieving joyful grin that reveals that one crooked incisor Aziraphale had noticed early on. Unabashed, unashamed, this smile shouldn't have been any different than sitting under the stars and talking about dolphin conspiracies, falling asleep in the truck bed after a night on the town, but it is. It breaks apart the everpresent harsh lines around Crowley’s mouth. Gone is the frown that chases every laugh. Crowley looks happy. Crowley has dimples.

Aziraphale’s heart dips into his stomach.

"Oh my God, it’s purring,'' Crowley says in disbelief, beautiful heartstopping expression shifting miraculously into something that shatters the delicate shell of Aziraphale’s chest. "Do you hear that?"

Crowley glances at him again and frowns. Aziraphale realizes he is staring with his mouth open and closes it quickly. He is supposed to say something. Crowley had asked a question. What had the question been? Aziraphale needs time to think. His heart is racing and he needs to think.

"Right. Yes. I—I can go to the general store and get litter. I'm sure Shadwell has some. I should just...I'll do that. Right now."

Somehow Aziraphale ends up in his truck, driving down the back roads to Pine Grove, his mind lighting up with every moment he has shared with Crowley over the last 6 weeks. Has he been a fool?

He remembers, with clarity, meeting Crowley that first night. Thinking him flash and a bit rude. Clocking Crowley’s attraction to him on sight and thinking nothing of it. People like Crowley are a dime a dozen. Except they aren't. Crowley is kind under all his bluster. He's funny and good at giving as good as he gets despite his clear anxiety. It’s turned him into a good friend. Someone Aziraphale is glad to know. Someone he thinks he will want to know for a very long time.

And yes, he might have been ignoring some signs of Crowley's feelings otherwise. The way Crowley blushes around him. Or secretly buys him books of poetry and hides them in his bags like Aziraphale won’t notice. And while all signs point towards such an attraction being romantic in nature, Aziraphale doesn’t want to assume. He is no stranger to attraction without romance. In fact, he thinks the last time he had a crush on someone was in uni. He’s dated since then, of course, but it has been years since that specific tug in his stomach. That skip in the beat of his heart.

Not that feeling that had entirely consumed him as he had watched a smile bloom over Crowley's face in front of the woodpile.

Aziraphale pulls into the parking lot in front of Shadwell’s and takes a deep breath. Is he really going to try to figure this out tonight? Should he do anything at all? Any potential relationship between himself and Crowley would be difficult.

But Aziraphale never feels like this. This earth shattering, jarring sensation like everything in his life has rearranged just because Crowley smiled.

The bell above the door tinkles and the smell of sawdust and old building greets Aziraphale like an old friend.

"Bit late for an errand run," Shadwell grunts from the register in his out of place drawl. One of the oddest things about this part of America is the strange subset of mountaineers who speak with a different accent. And own far too many guns.

"Yes," Aziraphale says, still dazed. "We picked up a stray kitten out by the cabin and needed to take care of him for the night."

"Your fancy feller is still staying with you then?" Shadwell asks, and Aziraphale couldn't care less for small talk. It seems Shadwell doesn't either because he takes an Aziraphale tumbled yes and turns back to restore the Marlboros.

Crowley is waiting at home so Aziraphale tries to be quick. Except Crowley is waiting at home and Aziraphale isn't ready to face him. He hasn't made a decision.

He looks at the cans of cat food that look like they've been there for at least a few months and inspects the expiration dates without really seeing them because his vision is still swimming with images of Crowley.

Crowley awkwardly looking away when they sat down for lunch at the riverfront. Crowley's gaze lingering on his chest when he got out of the shower. Crowley's shit eating smile when he finally beat Aziraphale  at pac-man.

Aziraphale clutches at the meow mix in his hand and breathes through the pain in his chest. He can’t just give this up. Relationships fail for all sorts of reasons but it would certainly be doomed if he never even tries.

Aziraphale places several cans of cat food into his basket. Now to figure out how to tell Crowley. Another memory drifts into his mind, scented with salt and seagrass.

If I were interested in you, I wouldn’t use underhanded seduction tactics like forcing you to share a bed with me.

Aziraphale grips the shelf in front of him. "Oh, good lord," he hisses to himself.

Had he really said that?

And then Crowley had turned red and ran off to the bathroom. Well, Aziraphale probably has some apologizing to do. Some ground to make up.

Maybe he will plan something romantic. Crowley hardly seems the type to go in for being wooed. Roses and truffles certainly aren't the way to his heart. But everyone deserves to be wooed sometimes.

Aziraphale pays for his purchases and got back into the truck. His heart hammers for different reasons now. He is going to tell Crowley. Not tonight. But soon. Somewhere romantic. Somewhere that says I have feelings for you and I'm willing to put in the work.

Pulling up the gravel driveway, his stomach jumps in time with the bumps in the road. He certainly found Crowley attractive before. Or at least thought him the sort that people would find attractive. Thin, tall. Defined features. Well-styled, striking red hair. But he hasn't really thought about it. Hasn't really looked.

His hands shake as he turns off the ignition and he tips his head back against the headrest. He is about to walk into his house and Crowley will be inside. He will be in one of his tight black shirts. The sort that dip at his collar bones. He will be barefoot and Aziraphale will be able to see the delicate bones of his ankles, the rigid tendons of his feet.

And Aziraphale will want to kiss him. He knows he will. And it wouldn't be just any kiss. It would be a back you up against the wall and show you exactly how I feel about you kiss. It would be everything.

But it is most certainly too fast.

This is brand new. Aziraphale doesn't want to rush. He will make a plan and he will talk to Crowley, making it clear that their friendship is paramount and that his ability to sleep on Aziraphale’s couch is not predicated on Aziraphale’s feelings and they could...go from there.

Satisfied with his plan, Aziraphale goes inside and every little nice bit of what he told himself went to pot. Crowley is sitting on the floor playing with the little black kitten with a shoelace. Upon Aziraphale’s entrance, Crowley looks up and grins.

Dimples.

Aziraphale tears his gaze away lest he drop the box of litter and tackle Crowley against the floor. He turns away and kicks off his boots with more force than necessary

“Did Shadwell have what you needed?”

Is his voice going to do things to Aziraphale’s insides now too? Goodness, this is about to become unbearable.

“Yes,” Aziraphale manages, glancing over at Crowley to see the kitten climbing up onto his shoulder. The move has tugged down his shirt and revealed the ginger patch of his chest hair which Aziraphale has an insane urge to lick.

"I was thinking about names," Crowley says, crawling up into a standing position, careful not to disturb the kitten by his neck.. His shirt pulls taut over his thin chest with his movement, rising up at his waist and exposing the line of one of his hip bones. Good lord, how had Aziraphale not noticed the man standing right in front of him?

"Spider,'' Crowley says, draping himself over the back of the bar stool. Crowley does that. A lot of draping. Lounging. Dramatic really.

Aziraphale likes him so much.

Crowley must have interpreted the look on his face for one of confusion because he adds, "You know, like you said. There are spiders in the woodpile."

It is a miracle the Aziraphale doesn't kiss him then and there.

[sunmoonandeddie]

don’t forget to sing

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 4,973

summary: You meet someone new in the most unlikely of ways during the quarantine in New York City.  An alley is six feet apart, right?

chapter warnings: swearing, mention of sickness

masterlist

a/n: Let me know what you think!

This was just fucking perfect.

Of course.  Of course you’d move to New York City three weeks before a fucking pandemic.  Cities were a cesspool for illness, and the Big Apple was no exception.

Your dreams of going out and exploring the city and finding little spots that you could call your own now that you were a real New Yorker and not just a tourist anymore were gone.  You’d been so busy unpacking and getting set up at your new job that you’d only gotten to go out for groceries.

And now all of New York City was shut down.  Broadway was closed, for heaven’s sake.  You couldn’t remember a time when that had ever happened in your lifetime.

It was mildly terrifying.  And by mildly, you meant extremely.

Thankfully, your job was primarily online anyway.  You were a playwright and you were basically an intern and assistant for Tony Kushner, possibly one of the greatest playwrights of all time.

But you were lonely.  At least before you were ordered to stay home, you could go out and get a little human interaction at the grocery store, even if the cashier was just telling you your total.  But now, everyone at the grocery store eyed each other warily.  Like you’d infect them with the virus at any second.

Which, it was possible.  It was why you only went late at night in order to avoid most of the crowds.  And also why you’d sewn a mask out of an old t-shirt in order to protect yourself.  And also why you’d stocked up on groceries so you wouldn’t have to go for about two weeks.

“I don’t know,” you said as you held the phone to your ear, wandering back and forth in your tiny little apartment.  Your best friend was on the other side, a thousand miles away.  “It’s getting really bad here.”

And, of course, she could try to understand, but Hope was all the way across the country.  She’d gotten a job in her hometown in California after graduation.  “I think we’re starting to head that way, too.  Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so,” you said, trying to be cheerful as you sat at your desk, pulling your knees up to your chest.  “I’m used to being alone, remember?  I’m a writer.  All I need is coffee and my laptop and I’m ready to hibernate.”

Hope let out a sigh, and you could hear the creak of her bed as she laid down.  “I don’t know.  I just think that maybe you should come out here.”

“I can’t.  I don’t have that kind of money.  And I just got here.  I don’t want to run away at the first sign of trouble,” you said as you opened up your laptop.  “Besides, I’m probably safer here locked away in my apartment by myself than I would be in your big house with you, your parents, and Scott.  Your parents work in a lab with hundreds of other people.  They have no idea if any of them have it.  It’d probably be safer for you to come stay here with me.”

“Me in that shoe box?” She scoffed.  “As if.”

Your laptop whirred to life as you ran your finger back and forth over the mouse pad.  “We talked about this.  You’re a California girl.  I’m New York.”  A smirk settled over your face as you cradled the phone between your ear and your shoulder, typing in your password.  “Two households, both alike in dignity—”

“Jesus, theatre kids are the worst,” she muttered.

You barked out a laugh as you pulled up your latest word document.  “I’m a grown woman, you know.”  You reached over your desk and opened up the curtains, figuring you could use a little change of scenery, even if it was just the apartment building across the alley.  The red brick was illuminated by the setting sun, the sky painted in shades of orange and gold.

There’s a tense pause between the two of you.  There’s a lot of unspoken words.

The both of you know that this is serious.  People are dying and there’s nothing the two of you can really do except hope and stay inside as much as possible and wash your hands.  And this is the first time the two of you have lived apart since your sophomore year of university.  It’s a big change and of course, all this happens right when you’re on your own.

“Are you going to be okay?” Hope asked, her voice cracking.

Taking in a shaky breath, you rest her head in your hand.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I’ll be okay.  You just worry about staying healthy yourself, okay?  And take care of your parents.”

Her parents were both a little older, and they were at risk with everything going around.  They’d become your second family in the years since you’d first met Hope, and had even let you live with them for a while after graduation while you saved up for your move to New York City.  Hell, they’d paid for you to come spend school breaks with them.  They were your family.

And now you were all alone with no way to get to them.  Even if you did want to fly, all incoming and outgoing flights were being canceled.  They hadn’t officially announced that they’d be closing the airports, but it was coming.

A light in the apartment across the alley from yours flicked on, and your eyes were immediately drawn to it.

“Oh…,” you breathed out, accidentally cutting off what Hope was saying.

“What?”

“There’s a…  There’s a man.”

“A man?!  We are in a pandemic!  There’s no dating in a pandemic!”

You went quiet as your elbow rested on your desk, your chin in your hand.  “He’s… gorgeous.”

And gorgeous, he was.  He looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower, with the towel swung low on his hips.  Dark hair was smattered across his broad chest like some hero on the cover of a trashy romance novel.  He ran his fingers through his long, damp hair as he opened up the drawers of his dresser, picking out boxers and sweats.

“God…  He looks like he just walked off a photoshoot with, like… Vogue,” you said quietly.  Drool was starting to drip from the corner of your mouth, you were so entranced.

“Wait…  Really?” Hope said, her voice rising.  “I need details!  Now!”

Brows furrowed, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.  “You have a boyfriend.”

“Who I haven’t gotten to see in over a week.  Scott is the love of my life, but I need to live vicariously through you,” she said.  “The most romance we have right now is when his internet actually works and we get to FaceTime.”

You were in a trance, just watching him move around his room.  “You know how cute I thought Jimmy Woo was?  He was in my Econ class and then we went on, like… two dates?”

“Yeah.”

“I would feed Jimmy Woo to a pack of hyenas if this man asked me to.”

But of course, nothing good could last.  Your elbow slipped off the edge of the desk and your face slammed down onto the wood.  “Oh, my god,” you groaned as you fell to the ground, clutching your mouth.  “Holy fuck…”

Hope was shouting at you through the phone, demanding to know whether or not you were okay.  She was more frantic than you’d ever heard her.

Pulling your hand away from your face, you winced as you saw the dark red blood.  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit…”  You didn’t think you’d knocked out a tooth, thank god.  You were sure that you’d be able to feel that.  “Yeah…  I think I’m okay.”  You started to pull yourself up, glaring at the blood that was on the edge of the desk.

But when you found the Most Handsome Man in the World staring at you from his window, looking just as worried as Hope sounded in his towel, you quickly ducked back down, willing him to go away.  You don’t think you’d ever been so embarrassed.

“Hope, I’m going to throw myself from the Brooklyn Bridge,” you hissed into the phone as you sat on the floor, leaning against your desk.  “He saw me bust my face open!  Or he heard it!”

There’s a pause, and then a snort.  “You have to admit, it’s kinda funny.  And the type of thing that would only happen to you.”

“Gee, I’m so happy you’re having fun with this,” you said.

You stayed down there for an extraordinarily long time, hoping to whatever god was out there that he’d stop looking.  When you finally emerged from your hiding place, you found that he was watching a movie with his bedroom light off, his eyes completely focused on the television.

And there was a whiteboard leaning against the window, messy scrawl in blue marker.

Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too bad!!  And I’m glad you enjoyed the show ;)

More than a little appalled at how blatant he was, you grabbed a piece of notebook paper and a Sharpie, writing out your reply before sticking it to the window with a piece of tape.

Nothing but a busted lip and broken pride :(

You shut your curtains, carefully cleaning your wound before getting to work on your latest writing assignment.  Though occasionally, you could remember the strange interaction and a smile would creep across your face.

Which would then cause you to wince in pain as the cut on your lip came open again.

Right before you went to bed, you peeked out of your curtains to see if he’d replied again.

Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what I saw :)  Goodnight!

You quickly wrote out a reply, taping it up before heading to bed.

Pinky promise?  Goodnight!

When you woke up, there was already another note left for you, and the man seemed to be gone.

Good morning!  I hope your lips feel better!

You had no idea when he’d be back or why the hell he’d left.  It was a pandemic after all.

Granted, a lot of people still had to work in this whole mess.  It was ridiculous.

Feeling a little bold, you wrote out a message.

You wanna kiss it better?

But you quickly crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it away.  Despite the fact that you’d seen him almost completely naked the night before, you didn’t know him.  He’d only said three sentences to you so far, and they were written out.

It was the quarantine equivalent of sliding into someone’s direct messages on Twitter or Instagram.

Should you even reply?  He was…  He was the kind of guy you saw on Love Island.  Too perfect and too ripped and sweet and mysterious and friendly, all at the same time.

You’d been getting into a lot of shows you wouldn’t have watched before while quarantined.  You’d watched the entire first season of the American version of the show, and you’d probably start the United Kingdom version sometime that day.  It wasn’t like you had anything better to do.

“Have you written back to him?” Hope asked as you set up your laptop on your desk, pulling up Spotify.

“What?” You asked, your phone cradled between your ear and your shoulder.  “No.  It was a one time thing.  It’s done.”  Before she could reply, you said your goodbyes and hung up.  You really needed to clean and that wasn’t going to happen if you chattered away on the phone with Hope like you usually did.

Music blasted from your laptop’s speaker after you hit play, and you threw open the window, letting the late winter air in.  It had started to get really stuffy in your apartment and you needed something to do other than work and binge watching or you’d go insane.

You didn’t even notice that your neighbor that lived across the alley had come home, and was watching you with a delighted smile on his face.

You were half-dancing, half-cleaning, belting out the lyrics without a care as you got more and more into it.  “Didn’t even know it!  No punches left to roll with!  You got to keep me focused!  You want it?  Say so!” You sang, twirling around with your trash can in hand as you picked up all the various little items.  “Let me check my chest, my breath right quick!  He ain’t ever seen it in a dress like this!  He ain’t ever even been impressed like this!”

Unseen by you, the mysterious stranger took a few steps forward, grateful that he’d left his window open.

“Prolly why I got him quiet on the set like zip!  Like it, love it, need it bad!  Take it, own it, steal it fast!  Boy, stop playin!’  Grab my ass!  Why you acting like you—”  You turned around, breaking off with a squeak as you saw him standing there watching you, your trashcan and an empty mug in hand.  You were completely frozen as he stared at you with a slight smile, leaving you a deer in headlights.

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of just how awful you looked.  Your hair hadn’t been washed, or your face.  You were wearing a men’s two XL hoodie that you’d stolen from some guy you’d fucked for a few months in college and a pair of sweatpants that you’d had since you were on the middle school track team that were still too long in the feet.  You’d done shot put and discus.

Why the fuck were you thinking about shot put and discus?  You hadn’t thought about it over twelve years.  It wasn’t like you were ever any good at it.

The Most Handsome Man in the World was staring at you, holding a takeout box at a mug of tea.  But at least he was fully dressed, even if that didn’t awake away from how attractive he was.  “Hey,” he said with an easy smile.

“Hi.”  Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you’d never wanted to slam your head against the wall more.  How could you be this much of a fucking loser?

“I like your music choice.  Who is that?” He asked curiously as he set his food on the bed, kicking off his shoes before sitting down.

Yeah, he was definitely just as attractive fully clothed as he was naked, which was truly a feat in itself.  Surely there was some kind of award for that, right?

You realized you’d been staring at him in silence and coughed, replying, “Doja Cat.”

“How’s your lip?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

The two of you stared at each other, him happily munching on the chicken nuggets he’d picked up.  You hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m James,” he said after swallowing.  “But my friends call me Bucky.”

You gave him your name as you slowly moved a few steps closer, sitting down in your desk chair and pulling your knees up to your chest.  “What kind of a name is Bucky?”

He chuckled, dipping his next nugget into the sweet and sour sauce.  “My middle name is Buchanan.  My best friend, Steve, started calling me Bucky when we were in kindergarten, and I don’t know… it just stuck.”

“I mean…”  You shrugged, wrapping your arms around her legs.  “‘S alright.  I like James though.”

“You can call me James.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

It felt intimate, somehow.  Calling him by his first name.

The quarantine was forcing people to revert back to Victorian ways of social conduct.  If you were lucky, you’d get your own Mr. Darcy.

But with the sweats you had on, it was more than likely that you’d end up an old spinster.

How did he find it so easy to talk to a complete stranger?  Granted, you were a lot less intimidating than he was.

“How’s your lip?” He asked, his head tilting to the side as he peered over at you.  “You don’t need stitches, right?”

There was an unspoken worry there.  Needing stitches meant you’d probably go without, since all the hospitals were so backed up with those that had fallen ill.  And going to the hospital just meant you’d risk your own health by coming in close contact with those going to get treated for Covid-19.

“If you do, I have a first aid kit I keep here in my apartment with the stuff to do stitches,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “But I wouldn’t exactly be able to come over there to help you.  You’d have to do the stitches yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.  “Why do you have the stuff to do stitches in your first aid kit?  I did see this one episode of one of those crime shows where they used safety pins to hold a gash open, but I can’t remember what show it was.”

Mirth sparkled in his eyes as he watched you.  “I’m a nurse.”

“Oh,” you said, relaxing.  But then you remembered, and your heart sank.  “Oh.  I… James.”

James looked rather sheepish as he looked down at his feet.  “It’s nothing really.  But I can’t use the elevator since it would risk someone being in an enclosed space with me.  So… you know.  I don’t really need leg day, right?”  He let out a weak laugh, clearly trying to blow it off.  “I’m not allowed to use the gym anymore.  Not that I would.  I don’t want to risk infecting anyone, even if I don’t have it yet.”

The way he said ‘yet’ hurt your heart.  He knew the position he was in, how dangerous it was.

There was nothing you could really say to him.  What the hell could you say?  Thank you for your service?  Technically, you could, but you remembered how your dad had felt about it.  He’d been a field doctor over in Afghanistan until he’d died on his fifth tour.

“I was just doing what needed to be done, sweetheart,” he’d said to you when you’d asked.  “Trying to save as many people as possible.  I don’t need thanks for that.”

But fuck.  James was going out everyday to fight an opponent that he couldn’t see.

“My lip is fine,” you said eventually, breaking the silence with a weak smile.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat.  “I’ll let you get back to your solo concert.  I’ve gotta shower.”

Things went on as normally.  Or, at least, as normal as things could be in a time like that.  Only now, you had someone to talk to that wasn’t Hope every night.

He wouldn’t tell you about what it was like at the hospital though.  He’d get this far away look in his eyes and his face would pale.  “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, darlin,’” he’d croon, a sad smile on his lips.  “You let me worry, and you just keep yourself safe and inside, okay?”

Sometimes you’d miss him.  He’d be at the hospital for days on end, sleeping in on-call rooms and eating from vending machines.  That’s when you’d leave little notes all over your window for him to read when he got back.

But then one day he came home and you could just tell that he was more worn down that usual.

“James?” You called out softly as you pushed the window open.  You hadn’t seen him in two days.  “Are you okay?”  You leaned half out the window, your elbows resting on the ledge.

He took in a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed himself not to cry.

“James?”  You’re about to repeat your question when he looks up, staring blankly at the wall.

“Steve has it,” he said quietly, his voice cracking.

Your heart stopped inside your chest.  “Oh.  Oh, James…,” you breathed out.

A few tears slipped down his cheeks, his hands clenched at his sides.  “I went into a room in the ER and there he was.”

You’d heard so many stories about his best friend since childhood that you felt like you knew Steve already.  Bucky had met him when they were just five years old, on the first day of kindergarten, and it’d been history from there.  But Steve had been sickly and small up until they were about seventeen, when he’d undergone some revolutionary clinical trial.  Fixing his heart and lungs had kick started his entire system and it was like everything magically went away.

“Not even that stupid treatment prevented him from getting sick,” Bucky said quietly.  “He looked…  He looked like he was on his deathbed.”

You paused, before crawling out of the window and out onto the fire escape.  “James, take my hand.”

You knew it was stupid.  It was really, really stupid.  He was around those with the virus daily, but he needed you.  You’d risk it to give him a little bit of comfort.

“What?” He said, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.  “No.  No.  I can’t.  What if I give it to you?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you said, insistently holding your hand out to him.  “Take my hand.”

Sniffling, he reached his hand out of his window and took yours, your fingers intertwining.  He took in a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears coming on as he squeezed his eyes shut.  “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted after a long moment just holding your hand.  “I’m so fucking scared.  I don’t want to go in there day after day.  I know people need me but I…”  He looked up at you with sea glass eyes.  “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to,” you said firmly, with as much conviction as you could muster up.  “You hear me?  You’re not going to die, and neither is Steve.  We’re going to make it through this.”

“Sometimes I just… hold their hand,” he said, so quiet you could barely hear.  “They’re dying alone.  Their family and friends aren’t allowed in to see them.  So I just… stay with them.  So they have someone there.”  Bucky lets his head fall into his chest, his shoulders slumping.  “And then I have to call the family to let them know.  And I just hope that maybe…  knowing I was there with them helps a little.  But it’s not the same.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, not daring to look down because you’re several stories up and if you lean a little too far, it would result in a trip to the hospital you can’t afford.  You haven’t been outside in days.

You don’t realize that you’re crying right along with him until you taste the salty brine of your tears on your lips.

“We’re going to be okay, James,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.  “This won’t last forever.  And I’m going to be here with you, okay?  No matter what happens.  I’m here.  I’ve got you.”

He squeezed your hand once more before letting go, nodding for you to go back inside.  “Go wash your hands.  Now.”

A smile creeps across your face as you surrender to his wishes, crawling back through your window.  “Yes, sir.”

He’s touch and go the next few days.  Sometimes he seems upbeat, positive even, about the whole situation.  Others…  Well.  He had plenty of reason to be down.

“You know, you’re a pretty good singer,” he commented one night.  He was sitting against the window, leaning his head against the frame.  You had climbed out onto the fire escape again with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.  “That night that I heard you singing to that song…  The Doja Cat one?  You’re good.”  His head tilted to the side in the way that a puppy might.  “Why don’t you sing more often?”

“I used to,” you said after a deep sigh.  “I used to sing a lot.  I was going to be a musical theatre actress.  But I got told so often that I was better at writing than performing so… I don’t know.  I guess I just decided it’d be better to pursue something I was better at.”

His lower lip was caught between his teeth as he looked at you.

You’d never had someone look at you the way he did.  Like he wanted to see all of you, like he craved it, needed it, even.  It was exhilarating.

“That doesn’t mean you stop singing.”  He moved to rest his chin in his palm.  “Even if you don’t become a performer professionally, you don’t stop singing.  Especially in times like these.”

“What?  Like those fake videos of people in Italy?” You asked with a snort.  A breeze wound through the alley and you tightened the blanket around you.  “The one that Katy Perry retweeted?”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said with an eye roll.  “My ma used to sing around the house.  Hearing you…  It made me feel like I was home again.  Just for a little while.”  He smiled slyly.  “And you have pretty sick dance moves.”

Groaning, you climbed back into your window, shooting a glare at him.  “You promised not to talk about my dancing!”

“It was cute!”

“Was not!”

“Was to!”

You took in a deep breath as you stared at him with narrowed eyes.  “No,” you said, pointing a finger at him.  “No, it’s not.”  Before he could reply, you started to shut the window, calling out, “Goodnight, James!”  The window shut with a definitive click and you winked as he flipped you the middle finger.

Steve came home three weeks later, completely clean of the virus.  The quarantine finally ended on May 22nd, 2020, the amount of cases down to maybe a hundred that were contained within the hospital.

In that time, you’d gone outside a total of six times to get groceries.  You’d gained ten pounds, even with the basic exercises you were doing in your apartment to keep you active.  You’d also saved up two thousand dollars, since you weren’t going out and you’d put a parental lock on your laptop and phone so you couldn’t go online shopping until further notice, but you were lucky in that way.  You had an extremely well-paying job that you could do online, and your boss wasn’t an asshole.

Millions of New Yorkers flooded the streets, crying and hugging and touching everyone.

You hadn’t been touched in so long.  The last time had been when you’d held Bucky’s hand on your balcony, and that had been the only time he’d allowed it since he didn’t want to get you sick.

He’d been lucky that he didn’t get it himself.  Most of those that had fallen ill were healthcare workers.  Overworked, tired healthcare workers.

You stepped out of the front doors of your apartment building, feeling an overwhelming sense of elation.  You’d already talked to Hope that morning on FaceTime.  Her and her parents were celebrating by going to their favorite restaurant that was allowing dine-in again.

Tears pricked your eyes as you watched the people around you.  It reminded you a little bit of those pictures of V-Day in New York City at the end of World War II.

But where was Bucky?

He’d been at work yesterday, and since you hadn’t seen him, it probably meant that he’d passed out in an on-call room instead of coming home.

But you needed to see him.  You didn’t care if he was all gross and greasy.  You just needed him.

You loved him.

Your eyes locked in on a familiar head of long, brown hair sticking a little bit above the crowd.  He was awful tall.  When he turned his head, it only confirmed it.  “JAMES!” You shouted, trying to break through the roar of the crowd.  “JAMES!”

His brows furrowed, his head turning a little towards the sound of his voice.  When his eyes landed on you they went wide as saucers, his lips forming your name even though you couldn’t hear him over the people.

The two of you pushed through the hordes of people, trying to reach one another.  When you finally broke through, you threw yourself into his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck as he twirled you around.  The both of you were crying happy tears, wide smiles on your faces.

“We made it,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “We’re okay.”  You pulled back enough to cup his face, so many words you wanted to say getting caught in your throat.

But before you could say them, he pulled you into a kiss, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your hip.  Grinning against your lips, he dipped you just a little, holding you tight.  To passerby, it was a remnant of the iconic V-Day kiss.  But you couldn’t think about that.  All you could think about was Bucky.

“Hi,” he said softly as he pulled away, breathing heavily.

Your nose nudged against his as your eyes fluttered open.  “Hi.”

He stole another kiss, your heart skipping a beat inside your chest.  “You better not stop singing now that this is over,” he said quietly as he held you to him, refusing to let go.  “Can’t go a day without hearing your pretty voice.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Your sap.”

“My sap?!”

He had a cheeky smile as he looked at you, cupping your cheeks.  “Does this mean I can take you on a date now?”

You were lucky.  You knew people who got the virus, but none of them had died.  Others didn’t have the same luck unfortunately, and it was a tragedy.  But you don’t stop singing during dark times.  You just sing a little louder.

[awanderingmuse-fandom]

Weekly Writing Update

*taps tumblr mic* “Is this thing on?”

Hi guys! I saw another blogger/writer I follow doing these and thought, heck it’s as good a system as any to show what I’ve done and keep me accountable. I tried to do something similar before a long time ago but fell way off the wagon. Anyways, here we go, weekly updates on what I’ve been writing.

You’re going to notice I’m normally a lot further in on writing than I am on posting. That’s on purpose. It helps me edit. It also protects y’all from any whoops, so I haven’t written anything in six months events. Why would that happen. Well, besides life occurring, allow me to post the FULL LIST of WIP this time around my friends. Normally, I won’t lay out everything just what I’ve worked on. Maybe I’ll do everything once a month? What do y’all think?

As a note titles below the cut are links if the post has gone live. 

Five Times Percy Destroys His Phone and The One Time It’s Not His Fault

This is a single chapter thing. It’s done and ready to post. I plan on making it go live on March 1. I’ve got a lot of WIP that I’ve been finishing up and I’m trying to post one a month so as to not over post and drive myself insane. 

I Knew I Loved You When: 100 Ships Challenge

This is completely done. It’s posting daily and will continue to do so until we hit 100 chapters. Woot! 

World Travelers: A World Away

I am on chapter 15 of part 4 of this seven part series (probably, hopefully). There will be 21 chapters for this part. The bad news is I am completely stuck right now. I think I’ve written like twenty words on it cause I just don’t know what I’m doing. Expect to see updates every Wednesdays, unless of course writers block persists for 6 weeks. Then expect to see me crying into my coffee. 

Hybrid Theory

I haven written 25 chapters and am outlined to chapter 31 and do have a vague idea of where I am going all the way through. This story is maybe 1/3 of the way through? I mean we all know I can never drop a story line so that’s probably a lie. Still, it’s got plenty of buffer so expect to see updates on or around the 15th of each month. 

When The Dark Comes Rising: Gathering

This story...exists? I am on Chapter 11 of Part 2. There should be three parts. I’ve outlined to chapter 14. For now plan to see it continue to update on solstices/equinoxes. 

Untitled “Garment” Project

Shhhh this one’s a secret for the Percy Jackson fandom. (There’s definitely NOT a link in the title for the curious). This one is getting towards the middleish? Idk it’s a bit harder to gauge progress but it will happen! 

These Temperamental Days: On Balmy Nights I Know that I Am Yours

This one isn’t dead, despite what I’m sure everyone believes. I am, like halfway through and need to re-watch Captain America Civil War, for research of course. I’m HOPING to post this in April. But we’ll have to see. Then there will be one more part and I’ll consider this story actually done. 

Ways of Love: Part 3

Okay, so, this is like super super super tentative. I have written like eleven paragraphs on chapter 1 of Part 3 for this and only have the vaguest idea where we’re going.  There’s also not a title yet. So please don’t get excited but I do intend to finish this. So yay!?

Demigods Are Weird

A Hades/Percy Jackson Crossover! The POV will be Zagreus’s and it will be Percico. It will be a long one shot/single chapter thing. I’m already at 2,500 words and am about 1/4 way through? Will post when it’s ready. I’m hoping May but no promises for sure. 

Percy Jackson Spy AU

So this is a cannon AU where things in the world of demigods go really weird really fast due to the mist failing. That’s...all I’ll say right now. I’m nearing 2k on the first chapter but I don’t have a time line for when I’ll start posting at this point in time. 

White Lotus Buds (Working Title)

Hi Avatar fandom, I’m new here! Anyways. This is a story where The White Lotus is more than Pai Sho friends and also a lot older. Also all the kids are involved. Woo. I have three chapters written out and am outlined through book one. I plan to post sometime...? I’m like really focused on this fic so it may be soonish, idk. 

Anyways, this list of 11 stories? This is why I don’t star posting until I have LOTS of buffer. Because otherwise we all cry in our coffee. I won’t list everything weekly, but this is our starter post.

[heavenlysan]

Cruel Love [3]

Mafialeader!San | Detective!Reader | Soulmates | Choi San x female reader | NSFW | Explicit language?

Words: 1,751

Chapters:

1 | 2

(San's POV) 

It was still early but after a long day of work I was really tired I didn't feel like going to the bar tonight as we usually do but the others practically dragged me there. I didn't feel like drinking either the air felt so heavy in this place I've always hated this bar always full of politicians or rich ceos and all those pigs always disrespecting the girls that work here but Wooyoung and Hongjoong always convince me to come. 

"Can you invite me a drink, you're so handsome and" She looks at me with desire in her eyes "I bet I can do wonders for you" A tall blonde woman says she's beautiful but I'm not in the mood and I'm not interested. 

"Not tonight sweetheart" I say but before she leaves she leans so I can get a better view of her boobs. 

"Are you sure?" She is now really close to my lips I consider it and it's been almost a week since I've had sex maybe I'm in the mood. 

"You're gonna play hard to get?" A man yells to a girl and this girl is probably new working here I've never seen her around. This always happens and that's why I hate this place so much men feel so entitled to women just because they have money I always want to torture all of them but Wooyoung always tells me to keep doing my thing and mind my business because I certainly don't need more enemies. But tonight I can't mind my own business and I get up as soon as I see this man pushing and kicking this girl on her fragile ribs. 

"Kick her again" The man looks at me and I recognise him immediately, he's another politician and his people that should be protecting him are distracted with the girls that work here and I take advantage of that. 

"Mind your business or what is this yours? She's a whore she's available for all of us I'm paying for it she's gonna suck my dick tonight and you're not gonna get in the middle" he kicks her again and without thinking I pull out my gun and I pull the trigger twice but I don't kill him I just want to see him in pain like the pain the girl might be feeling right now she's still on the floor unable to get up, she holds her ribs and after she sees the man next to her she finally looks at me. 

Oh fuck. 

She has to be the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in my entire life. I help her to get up she's tall we're the same height she has a powerful and deep gaze. She has a beautiful body and she's talking right now and oh shit her voice it's even better, it's just unexplainable I just want to do all sorts of things to this woman she's the whole package. 

"Are you even listening?" Her gaze just gets deeper and I am obligated to snap back and actually pay attention to what she's saying.

"Can you repeat it?" 

"I said why did you use your gun" She's mad at me? "I'm gonna get fired because of this" 

"I'm gonna kill both of you!! who do you think you are?" The old man has trouble to get up but his people help him a little too late. 

"I'm gonna kill you if you don't shut the fuck. You never learned how to treat women?" The old pig tries to interrupt me but I don't let him "And who do I think I am? my name probably rings a bell I'm Choi San" 

And of course his faces changes he's scared now. As he should. 

"I-I'm sorry Mr. Choi I didn't recognise you I promise this won't happen ever again" The man kneels. How pathetic. 

"I don't want to see you around here anymore if you want sex you have a wife you pig" I spit on his face and his people pull out their guns but he stops them immediately. 

"You won't be seeing me around and again I'm sorry" His people help him get up and he leaves. 

I take the girl to my table and the tall blonde woman that was talking to me before all this mess leaves with a disappointed expression on her face. 

"Please sit here are you okay? Do you want me to bring you something princess?" She looks at me a little bit taken aback by me calling her princess and she looks rather like a child, a confused one.

"What was all that? That man was ready to kill both of us but as soon as he heard your name he turned into a scared mouse" 

"It's not important anymore"

The tall blonde woman returns but this time she speaks to the girl. 

"Hey new girl! What was your name? Doesn't matter, our boss wants to talk to you and he looked mad" And she makes a gesture with her fingers to follow her. 

The girls take a few steps and I follow them just to make sure the new girl is safe. They enter a room on the hallway and I stay close to the door to hear.

I hear a slap and I try to open the door but it's locked. 

"This is your first fucking day but you already created a mess because of you I lost a recurrent visitor. You know how much he pays? not only for all of you but all the bets he makes he's a millionaire!! You don't know what you just did! We sent you an email today with all the rules you were supposed to follow and the first one is to never say no to the clients I'm not even forcing you to do things you sent your resume on your own and this is completely your fault and I want you out of here." The owner of this place yells I get angrier with every word he says I just want to take the girl with me so none of these bastards can't harm her anymore. 

"This was my first day please don't kick me out I'll behave I just" I can hear her crying and I can't do this anymore I knock hard on the door but there's no answer. 

"Well there's a thing you can do if you want to keep the job but we're gonna need a VIP room for that." His tone of voice changes now he has disgusting pervert voice. 

The VIP rooms I've been there with other girls before he is out of his mind. The tall blonde woman finally opens the door and the girl and the owner are behind her and the owner is grabbing the girl by her grist" 

"Mr. Choi, it's good to see you around here it's there something you need?" The owner says with a sudden change in his voice. 

"Yes, Wooyoung wants this girl he saw her earlier and he wants her services" 

"She's not available right now Mister" 

"It's on me tonight I'll pay double or triple for her" And those are the magic words for him to let her go. 

"Y/N They're special clients make sure to treat them like Gods and do whatever they ask you to" She nods and starts walking with me. 

"Wooyoung is probably in a room we'll have to wait" I said and she just nods again. 

We sit at my table and wait for Wooyoung to come I try to break the silence between us by asking her stuff but she just keeps on nodding. 

"You're y/n right?" She nods again. 

I notice that her left cheek is a little bit red "Did he hurt you back there?" She doesn't say anything nor she nods she doesn't even look at me anymore. 

"Just tell me" And then she nods. 

And that's enough for me. I get up to find Wooyoung it's not hard he's probably with Wendy in one of the VIP rooms. 

"Woo get up I need your help" I interrupt Wooyoung while he is hip thrusting and kissing Wendy. 

"I don't know if you've noticed but I'm busy right now" He says clearly annoyed. 

"I said get up I'll be on our table and hurry up"

I walk again to our table hoping to see y/n still there. And she is but a man is talking to her now. 

"I'm sorry but I'm already with another client" I overhear and as I approach the man walks away. A smart choice. 

"Wooyoung will be here in a moment, don't worry" She looks at me again with that deep gaze of hers. She has a powerful waze but regardless of that she looks shy and innocent. 

"Mr Choi San, everyone keeps calling you mister but you don't look old to me so that means that it's out of respect or fear" My name sounds so good on her voice If I could only get her to scream it for me. "I want to know why people fear you" Her voice is low and slow. 

She stares at me like trying to study my moves and my gestures. 

"I'm here" Wooyoung breaks our staring contest. 

The three of us walk to the parking lot and none of us say a word till we get to her car. 

"Wooyoung take her to her place and make sure she gets there safely" And both of them look at me in confusion "I have stuff to do and I can't take her on my own" 

"Wait I thought…" She starts talking but I cut her off as I raise one of my fingers to her lips. 

"Not tonight princess, it was enough mess and noise for you it'd be better if you just go home and don't worry you'll be safe with Wooyoung I'd do it on my own but I have a couple of things to do with one of my friends"

She hesitates but does as I say I see both of them leaving and when I can't see them anymore I get back to the bar. I use the back door the one that it's only for employees but before I need to call Hongjoong he's probably just drinking with other girls. 

"I need you to cut the lights in exactly 8 minutes and turn them on back after 5 minutes I'll explain later"

[let-it-raines]

another kind of green (8/10)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

Rating: Mature

a/n: as always, this is for @xemmaloveskillianx​ as part of my fic giveaway, and this chapter is also for @carpedzem​ because I accidentally made her think I’d written some more of Indirect Deposit yesterday 🙈

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

-/-

“I am so bloody exhausted that nothing could keep me awake.”

“Have you tried caffeine?”

“Three cups of coffee.”

“Ah,” Ariel sighs, “you need a nap. If three cups of coffee aren’t working, you’re beyond the point of caffeine helping.”

“Can’t nap,” Killian yawns, his eyes watering. “I’ve got to study these laws for my practical tomorrow and then head over to Emma’s.”

Ariel clicks her tongue.

“What, A?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She pauses, and unlike Ariel, Killian holds his tongue. She’s obviously about to tease the hell out of him. He knows that without even having to see her face. “It’s just that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Emma lately, and you’re going over to her apartment for her birthday. That seems like kind of a big deal.”

“Aren’t you also going over to her apartment for her birthday?”

“I am.”

“Well, you don’t see me making it a thing with you going.”

“That’s because I don’t have a thing for Emma.”

“I do not have a thing for Emma.”

“I wish you could see my face right now. I’m majorly rolling my eyes.”

“I can imagine it. I’ve seen it enough times.” Killian sighs and leans back on the couch, closing his eyes and pinching his nose with his free hand. “Emma and I are friends, and she mentioned the thing tonight that Mary Margaret and Ruby are having at her place. I was supposed to take her out for dinner anyways, so this kills two birds with one stone.”

“Wow. You’re such a romantic,” she jokes. “You should take her out for dinner anyway. She’d love that.”

“I will see you tonight, love,” Killian tells her as another yawn takes over. “Try not to be an asshole while we’re there.”

“No promises. You should bring her flowers. I can ask Mary Margaret what her favorites are for you.”

Ariel hangs up before he can protest, and he’s left sitting in the silence of his apartment. Will is at the bar working a double today, and it’s quieter than usual without his nagging and curses under his breath about every little thing. Killian’s thirty years old. He really shouldn’t still be living with a roommate, especially when he can afford his own place, but living on his own has always been few and far between.

After Liam died, his apartment felt barren and like it could never be full again. Everything was full of Liam from the items in the fridge to the novels on the shelf. When Milah moved in shortly afterward, the place had been full of Milah and her clothes and the smell of her perfume on every pillow in the place. He thought maybe, just maybe, having her around more would make the emptiness better.  But then she’d left, and the only trace of her was the ring she left on the kitchen countertop.

Maybe he needs his own place where everything is his and his alone. That might be nice for a change.

Emma Swan: Did you know Boston is named after Boston, England? I feel like that’s a sign or something for you being here.

Killian snickers and drops his phone to his chest before picking it up.

Killian Jones: Why do you know that?

Emma Swan: I got a pamphlet listing fun facts about Boston with my lunch takeout.

Killian Jones: Fancy.

Emma Swan: I know. You still coming tonight?

Killian Jones: Aye.

Emma Swan: I’ll have to regale you with more facts about Boston.

Killian Jones: I look forward to it.

-/-

He brought her flowers like an idiot.

They’re lilies with a few other flowers and stems mixed in. Killian’s always enjoyed flowers, but he’s never taken the time to know anything more than the most basic of brands. He didn’t know what Emma liked, didn’t want to ask someone despite Ariel’s offer, but the damn thing was what put the idea in his head. Emma specifically said no gifts, but he showed up with a gift card to their smoothie place and flowers.

What the hell is this woman doing to him that he actually wants to do things like that again?

Possibly making him crazy while also driving him crazy with how she looks tonight.

Emma’s wearing a white sweater that dips down her back, showing the curve of her spine and the freckles on her back until it stops right over the curve off her ass that’s shown off by a pair of sinfully tight jeans. He’s not sure how the damn sweater is staying on or how she even managed to get those bloody jeans on. All he knows is she looks absolutely stunning, and if he stays in this apartment for much longer, he won’t be able to handle himself.

As if he’s fifteen and not thirty.

And there’s not a lot of places for him to look around. Emma lives in a studio apartment, and as spacious and open as it is, it is still one big room with what he assumes is a bathroom in the back.

What has he gotten himself into with this woman?

If he asks himself that question enough, maybe he’ll figure out an answer.

“If it isn’t the husband,” Ruby exclaims when she sees him, and Emma quickly turns around so he can see her face. It’s no less distracting than the view of her from behind. “Fancy you coming to your wife’s birthday party.”

“Is this going to be the joke we all make all night long?”

“You two got drunk and got married in Vegas. I have to make fun of it every single day. It’s the greatest thing.”

“For the record,” David starts, “I don’t think it’s the greatest thing.”

“David, right?”

“Yes.”

Killian sticks his hand out to shake David’s, but the man doesn’t take it. Instead he crosses his arms over his chest and stares Killian down. Well, this is certainly going great. His wife is obviously the nicer one.

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbles, walking over toward them and slapping the back of David’s head, “don’t be a dumbass. I’m an adult, you’re not my guardian, and every person in this room knows my history with Killian. We fucked, we drunkenly got married, and now I kick his ass on our morning runs. Does anyone have anything else they’d like to say?”

“I mean, I’d say that we made love, not – ” Emma turns to slap him this time, and he deserves it. He was fully expecting her to do that. In response, he dips down and brushes his lips over her cheek. “Happy birthday, Swan.”

“Thank you, asshole.”

“The flowers are for you.”

She takes them out of his hand and examines them, a small smile still pressed to her lips. “They’re beautiful and definitely against the no gift policy.”

“Cut the man some slack,” Ruby huffs. “He’s just trying to woo his wife with flowers.”

“Oh my God,” Emma mumbles.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret interrupts, “do you not have any plates?”

“Of course I have plates. They’re…shit. I don’t have enough plates. Someone text Ariel and ask her to pick some up before she gets here.”

“How do you not have enough plates for eight people?”

“I live by myself and don’t have much company. I don’t need eight plates.”

“You knew we were coming over.”

“I was also told that you would take care of everything since I didn’t want to do anything big to celebrate.”

“And I am, but pregnancy brain is a very real thing.”

“Your wife is pregnant, mate?” Killian asks David, not wanting to intrude on Mary Margaret’s conversation with Emma. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful!”

David is still studying him, and Killian might as well have committed some unspeakable crime. Eventually, though, the corners of his lips turn up. It’s very obviously got little to do with Killian, though, and everything to do with his love for his wife. “Thank you. We’re excited.”

“Alright, lover boy,” Ruby sighs as she wraps her arm around his shoulder, “I’m going to save you from David. Mulan wants to talk to you about how you’ve been keeping Emma out of her gym.”

“I feel like that’s not a safer conversation.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not. You were not smart for showing up here.”

He’s definitely in over his depth when it comes to all of Emma’s friends, and while David should terrify him the most, he thinks Ruby might take that crown.

“I’m starting to pick up on that.”

His life gets significantly easier when Ariel and Eric show up, especially since they come with a small bag of paper plates so everyone can start eating, and with more people there, less attention is on him. He rarely shies away from it, can usually handle it, but he doesn’t know Emma’s friends enough to be truly comfortable with it all.

That is until everyone – except Mary Margaret of course – gets a drink or two into them and is full of lasagna and overly sweet cake. They all settle in Emma’s living room area, Ariel and Eric on two barstools from the kitchen, Ruby and Mulan sitting on the bed, Mary Margaret and David sharing an oversized chair, and he and Emma sitting on her couch. Emma’s got her feet curled underneath her and her head propped up in her hand. She looks relaxed, comfortable even, and it’s a wonderful thing to see after the last time he saw her.

They haven’t managed to go on their runs in the past week. He’s been too tired from training and she’s had shoots in New York and in Connecticut, and the last time he physically saw her he’d taken his teasing too far and tried to get her to share information she wasn’t ready to share. They seemed to have mended things over their texts, but he could never be sure until now.

Three months ago when he knocked on this front door and had it slammed in his face, he never could have imagined he’d be so willingly let inside.

That he’d be invited inside.

It’s easy to get swept up in the way that everyone here is comfortable with each other. Even with Ariel and Eric here, he’s the odd man out, but that doesn’t matter as he gets to hear stories of Emma and her adventures with tequila, a pair of heels that were one size too small, and she, Ruby, and Mary Margaret having to hide under a table in a bar from a man who was not too happy with Mary Margaret losing her dinner over his shoes.

“That doesn’t sound like you at all, Mary Margaret,” Ariel snickers.

Mary Margaret shrugs. “Give me some tequila, and you can see that side of me.”

“After the baby is born, we’re going out then.”

It’s fun and relaxing, and Killian likes learning more about this woman who slowly but surely is allowing him to know and understand her layers. He doesn’t know much about her past, but he knows how she is now: funny and graceful and fiercely protective of the people she loves.

As well as a badass runner who likes hazelnut in her coffee and smoothies and spends far too much time trying to decide what to watch on TV until she ends up not watching anything at all.

How did they get so lucky to have to work together at that convention? It could have been any two people who work in this insane industry, but all of the bumps and stops and goddamn roadblocks enabled him to meet her.

He’s so damn screwed when it comes to her.

Killian looks down to see Emma’s fingers ghosting over his wrist and moving up and down his forearm until she’s messing with the rolled up cuffs of his flannel shirt. He doesn’t even think she knows she’s doing it. She’s been slowly inching closer to him all night, and he can feel every single breath that he’s taking.

He’s got training in the morning, so while he’s only had two beers, he might as well be drunk on Emma.

And really, he should get up and leave. Everyone else has left, giving their excuses and saying their goodbyes over an hour ago, but he’s stayed and kept watching episode after episode of Friday Night Lights. Mary Margaret had put it on. It’s older, but it’s apparently what she’s been watching while working lately.

“I know I didn’t attend high school in America, but is this what it was like?”

“I was a foster kid. I didn’t exactly have the quintessential high school experience. I don’t know, maybe if you’re athletic and look like you’re thirty when you’re sixteen.”

“Those are actors, love.”

Emma scoffs and squeezes her nails into his arm. “You know what I mean.”

“Aye, I do. So this wasn’t what it was like for you?”

“No,” she laughs, shaking her head from side to side. “God no. I – ” She stops, turning to look at him, before looking away and moving her hand down his arm again. She’s going to mark him with her nails if she keeps this up. “It’s nothing.”

“What? You can tell me? You were secretly prom queen, weren’t you? Did you play a preppy sport? Or were you on the debate team? You’re damn good at arguing. I mean – ”

“I slept with an older guy who apparently had a thing for girls much too young for him and got arrested for his dumbass crimes that he fucking framed me for, so I didn’t get the high school experience like these obviously too old actors.”

Wait. Where the hell did that come from?

“Swan – ”

“I think it’s so ironic that one of the only jobs I’ve been able to get because of Neal is modeling wedding dresses. He made me not want to ever get married, and yet here I am having to pretend I believe in some kind of happily ever after. What if I’d wanted to go to college? What if I’d wanted to be a cop or a teacher or something? What if I didn’t have to check the box on job applications that says I’ve got a felony to my name? But it’s fine. It’s normal. It happened, and I don’t care.”

She likely doesn’t even hear how contradictory she’s being.

He’d like to punch that asshole and break his nose so badly it can never be repaired. Of all of the shitty things that have happened to him in his life, at least no one ever ruined his life for work. Any troubles he’s had have all been his own doing. He can be as fucked up as possible emotionally, but at least he can work wherever he wants.

At least he can follow his dreams.

At least he can be a regular human being without restrictions.

“What that bastard did to you isn’t normal, Emma.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”

Emma stands from the couch and walks to the other side of the room, arms crossed over her chest as her feet keep moving back and forth. He has a feeling she’s going to be like this all night. He may not have been in the foster system, but he had a rubbish father who left him after he’d had to move countries to be with him and a mum and brother who both died. Birthdays haven’t been happy days for a long time, and if Emma is anything like him, her emotions are running a little higher than they would normally be.

Birthdays aren’t truly the same when you haven’t lived your entire life having someone to celebrate them with.

The two large glasses of wine swirling around in Emma’s stomach likely won’t help. At least she hasn’t had any tequila.

“You know,” Killian starts, figuring he might as well just go for it. He’s nowhere near buzzed, alcohol not giving him any liquid courage, but Emma makes him want to let her know him. Something about her makes him want to share, and he’s never been able to pinpoint what it is. “I was with someone for a long time.”

She stops pacing and turns to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Aye. She was brilliant and beautiful, and without getting too much into it, I proposed to her. For months she wore the ring on her finger. She had been with me before Liam died and when Liam died, she was the only thing that kept me from…she kept me from lashing out at the world, and then one day she left the ring on the kitchen counter with a note telling me she was going back to her husband and her child. I didn’t know they existed, but looking back, I should have seen the signs. So, the not wanting to get married part, I get that.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“People are such assholes.”

“You’re speaking a lot of damn truths tonight.”

Emma huffs and then walks back toward him until she plops down onto the couch and shifts. “I’m sorry about your fiancée.”

“I’m sorry that bastard did what he did to you.”

“It’s okay.”

Killian knows that it’s not and that Emma knows it’s not, but if this is the way she wants to deal with things, he can’t change that. Just because he wants to channel his anger and his disappointment over life into some kind of action doesn’t mean Emma wants to. And the way that she’s biting her lip and tapping her leg makes him think maybe she doesn’t want to talk at all right now.

That’s fine. He can be the one to fill the silence, not that they really need that. So he tells her of his mum and her kindness and the way she would sing him lullabies even as he grew older. He tells her of his father and the way he left and how Liam was basically his father despite only being five years older than him. He tells her the simplified version of most everything, at least the big moments, but as easily as it was to fall into spilling his heart, it’s even easier to fall back into talking about the simple things: favorites movies and hobbies and telling stories about their friends or the weird things that have happened to them on the job. Neither of them have made their livings in a conventional way, and it will never not be nice to talk about how insane the industry could be.

“So what do you want to do, Swan? If you could do anything.”

It’s verging into dangerous territory, and he fully expects Emma to tell him to shove the leftover birthday cake he’s eating up his ass.

She shrugs. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”

“Try me.”

Emma hums as she scoops up a glob of yellow icing and licks her fork clean. Killian shifts to adjust his jeans. She’s eating cake. He should not in any way be thinking about how her lips wrap around the fork.

It’s two in the morning. His thoughts are not his own.

He’s really getting old if two in the morning feels this late to him, but it’s that time of the night where the world is muted in a way. Either every noise is cause for alarm or nothing quite seems real, a place between sleep and awake where there could be something new at every turn.

Where there could be a new set of green eyes that aren’t actually new and a silhouette he hasn’t yet learned to trace and where things might actually work out for him for once.

If only, if only.

“I don’t know,” Emma sighs after about a minute of silence. “Maybe I’d want to work with foster kids, tell them that it gets better even when it doesn’t. Maybe I’d like to be a cop like you or David or Graham. I always say I would never, but I think it could be interesting. Maybe I could do something a little less emotional and be a freaking party planner or be an Instagram Influencer and promote, like, charities instead of one-hundred-dollar lipstick. I don’t know. I don’t…I’ve never thought about it because nothing has ever felt like a possibility.”

“You know, some people will see how young you were on this record and see that it’s non-violent, and they will give you an opportunity because it’s been a decade. You could try to get your record expunged or even sealed since I’m assuming it’s not. And then when you decide that you want to quit modeling for every wedding dress designer and boutique in New England, you can find something else you love.”

“Can I be a professional birthday cake eater?”

Killian leans his head back with laughter. “I’ll look into that for you. I’m sure there’s something like that.”

“That would be the dream.” Emma huffs and turns her head to hide her smile. “Are you scared the same thing is going to happen to you? That happened to Liam?”

He swallows as his heart races that little bit quicker. He wasn’t expecting that. He’s never expected that despite thinking the question himself almost daily. “Aye. I know the risks. I know the possibility. But if there’s one thing you need to know about me, Swan, it’s that I’m a survivor.”

“Good.”

They both end up eating two more slices of cake, something he regrets no later than fifteen minutes after putting his plate down, but he soon forgets it all as they sleepily watch a movie, the flickering of the television lights now the only thing illuminating the room and casting Emma in a subtle glow. He should get up and go home. It wouldn’t take much, no longer than ten minutes, but with the heat of Emma’s body radiating toward him and little strands of her hair tickling his skin, he can’t find the motivation to be anywhere but here.

Bloody hell.

They’ve spent the night together once before, but he got up and left before she could wake up. That feels like a lifetime ago, and he doesn’t think he’d make the mistake of walking away again.

“Killian?”

“Yeah, love?”

Emma leans forward so he gets a glance of her bare back, her sweater having shifted even more. “Do you think you’d ever change your mind about not wanting to get married?”

Tonight is full of all of the questions, he guesses. All he hopes is that she doesn’t regret this in the morning.

“I imagine if I met the right person, maybe. I’ve never been completely opposed to marriage or falling in love again. I think, maybe, I simply needed reminding that I could.”

If he fell in love again.

If he trusted again.

If he felt the way he’s feeling right now where his stomach can’t seem to settle and his mind is pretty much the same.

She blinks at him, her mouth parted and the smallest bit of yellow icing on the corner of her lips. Without thinking, he reaches forward and thumbs it away as little sparks of electricity move from his fingertip up his arm and eventually down his spine, joining in on his unsettled stomach and the nerves that can’t seem to settle. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her. How many times has he thought that? Tonight and this week and over the past few months. The night they met they couldn’t keep their hands – or their mouths to be honest – off each other, but now, every touch burns him alive.

There’s so much at stake, so much to lose, and he never thought this woman would be anything more than one night.

He never thought she might be the one to remind him that not everything about love is terrible. He’s not there yet, but he could be.

It’s all in the possibility.

“Yeah,” Emma sighs, falling back to the couch so her shoulder hits his and the outside of her thigh brushes his thigh. He can feel the heat of her skin through his jeans even more now, and he’s thankful that she was the one to move first and stop their staring contest. “I guess I can understand that.”

-/-

There’s a bang of a door and Killian startles awake.

He blinks, looking around at the blurred furniture only to realize this is Emma’s apartment. Shit. He fell asleep.

Shit. He’s got to be at training in…he looks down at his phone on the coffee table.

Fuck.

He’s got to be at training for his exams in twenty minutes.

Quickly, he grabs his phone, sticking it in the pocket of his jeans, hitting there to make sure he has his wallet and his keys, and his mind is in such a panic that he doesn’t notice that Emma hasn’t moved from her spot by the door until he’s standing in front of her trying to walk out.

His breath has got to be horrible right now.

“Emma, sweetheart, I’ve got to – wait, what’s wrong?”

She blinks up at him, her green eyes bright even with the smudged and flecked mascara underneath her eyes, and he’s so entranced by her that all he wants, even now, is to lean down and softly brush her lips over and feel the gloriousness of her mouth once more. That feeling has only been in dreams for so long, but it was real once, even if the circumstances were different.

“N-nothing,” she stutters, backing up to the door. “It’s just that, um, I went and got my mail because I hadn’t in a few days, and our annulment papers came in. We’re officially no longer married.”

-/-

-/-

@xemmaloveskillianx​ @therealstartraveller776​ @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells  @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​

[crewhonk]

Only Happy Accidents (8)

Warnings: fluff. Holy shit so much fluff. happy Steeb and YN. Nursery decoration. 

Songs: “Better Man”-- James Morrison

AN: lol, a short chapter and I wrote this a while ago so rip. Octobers chilled out from here on out (three midterms and two reports are out of the way) so I'm not promising more frequent updates but keep ur eyes peeled! 

Masterlist

_________________________

March 27, 20th Week

Life was good, Steve thought, as he woke up on YN’s chest, her hands scratching his scalp absently as they both woke up. His hair was getting longer, and his beard was growing thicker and his abs were disappearing slightly and there was no rush to change any of it since YN made worshipping his incoming dad body a part of her daily second-trimester-hormone routine. 

He and YN had gone to another appointment yesterday, and the pictures f the baby’s face were getting more and more clear— the baby definitely did have her chin, and he definitely had his nose and despite him being so squished, Steve thought his kid was going to be the prettiest thing on the world. 

“Morning, Sweetheart.” He murmured softly as he breathed in deep, eyes opening finally and looking up at his girl. 

“Morning, handsome. How you feeling?” She asked. They’d gotten carried away the night before and knew they would both be sore for a handful of days after. It was true— his thighs and hips were sore and judging by the look of the red swollen marks on her breasts and neck, she would be sore too. 

“‘M perfect.” He replied, kissing her softly and making her sigh. 

“Yeah you are.” She chuckled and he closed his eyes again. 

“What’s the plan today, Ma?” He asked, and she hummed. 

“Well, we have the cake testing, the flower picking and the centre piece arrangements to finalize and then I wanted to get started on the nursery cause all the furniture is supposed to arrive today.” She hashed out and he crooned, kissing her chest and up to her neck. 

“What times are the appointments?” He asked, making his way up to kiss her jaw and cheek and chin. 

“Nine.” She whispered, scratching his scalp harder and making him grunt. He looked over to the clock and smirked, he had plenty of time before she’d want to leave at eight. So, he pulled the covers over them and kissed her soundly— in this temple made of sheets, he would make his best girl pray. 

_________________________

“You’re glowing. Really you are—are you sure you’re not the one that’s pregnant?” Sam asked, laughing as he slammed Steve hard into the mat and knocking the air out of his lungs. Things at the Rogers-YLN house were really, really great and it showed in the way Steve walked, and spoke, and fought and breathed. If Sam, Bucky and Natasha weren’t so damn happy for him, they’d want him one million miles away, and even then it wouldn’t be enough to get out of the glow that surrounded Steve. 

“Nah, he’s just finally bucked up and made his fiancee have an orgasm for the first time in five months.” Natasha called out, making Bucky choke on his water and Sam drop his grip on Steve as he tried to help him up. 

“Wait, what?” Bucky choked, and Steve flushed red. 

“Yeah, he and YN hadn’t had sex since Halloween and I finally convinced him he wouldn’t hurt the baby or YN if he got his dick wet.” Natasha jested and rubbed Bucky’s back who was still trying to clear his windpipe of water. Sam only laughed harder, falling onto the mat beside Steve. 

“You’re so stupid, holy shit.” Sam crowed and didn’t even protest when Steve shoved him two feet across the floor. 

“You know what?” Steve said, smiling despite his friends making relentless fun of him. “I have a beautiful girlfriend at home who is pregnant with my child and hyped up on pregnancy hormones. I don’t have to put up with this.” He laughed and swiped his towel from the floor beside the benches. Natasha joined Sam in his giggles and Bucky snorted. 

“You’re like a catholic rabbit, Jesus Christ.” Bucky chuckled, watching as Steve’s cheeks deepened in colour and as he held his water bottle in front of his groin. “You’re nasty.”

Steve’s eyes flickered over to Natasha who was snorting at his expense and raised his eyebrows at the couple. “You’re both no better— Sam tells me everything, especially about the noises you two make on a daily basis.” He pointed his finger accusingly at his life partners and Sam only laughed harder as Bucky and Natasha avoided eye contact with each other. Steve, on the hunt for blood, turned to Sam who was still on the floor and kicked him lightly in the ribs. 

“And at least me and those two are getting some.” Steve grinned down sneakily at Sam as his face warped into something that resembled offence. Steve clapped his hands and pulled his sweater over his head. 

“Now, I’m going to go home and help my baby mama start setting the nursery up.” And with a salute, Steve left the gym, awed silence in his wake and a skip in his step. 

___________________________

“Ma? I’m home! Where are you?” Steve asked, walking through the foyer and into the living room, stopping short at the sight of countless boxes that had arrived yesterday and were now destroyed. There was wrapping across the room and it looked as if a tornado had swept through the apartment. 

“Babe?” Steve asked, throwing his keys and wallet onto the counter. YN’s head poked up shortly, and a wide smile appeared across her face when she saw him. With little difficulty, YN heaved herself off the floor and stumbled over boxes to Steve. Steve only had a few seconds to take in her maternity overalls and baggy sweater (both of which showed off her stomach) before he wrapped his arm around her waist, cupped her neck, and kissed her sweetly. 

“I forgot how hard it is to build Ikea furniture.” YN smiled, excitement radiating off of her person. She pulled him over to her mess (organized chaos, she said) and began pointing at things. 

“This is the diaper station— that only took two hours and then now, I’m working on the crib, which I had to already take apart once because I tried to do it in Spanish but I forgot most of the Spanish I learned in university so— woo!” She yelped as Steve spun her around and pulled her to straddle his lap on the couch. 

“Hi.” He smiled up at her and she seemingly melted into his lap, hands coming to scratch his scalp the way that made him purr. He tilted his chin up and pursed his lips, hinting for a kiss when she snorted at and leaned in, meeting her lips with his and sighing happily. Her hormones today were less of an issue, but that didn’t mean they didn’t wake up like a dormant beast whenever she caught a whiff of Steve’s musky post-training smell. 

“I need to get off of you because if I don’t we won’t get anything done ever.” She hummed, pecking his lips twice and once more for good luck before stumbling off of him and returning to her place in front of what would be the place his son would sleep. Before his heart could flutter and his knees could go weak at the idea, YN looked up at him. 

“Your paints came in if you want to get started on the walls— I know that’s something you wanted to do, and I think I’d actually kill you if you tried to help me build all this.” She smiled and he jumped up and walked over to her and crouched down, pulling her into an elated kiss, making her giggle against his mouth. 

“I love you. Thank you.” He murmured, kissing her again and standing, walking back to the hallway. 

“Hey, Steve?” She piped up and he turned to look back at her. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing in there?”

“Nope!” He replied, smiling at her scoff. 

“No guns or American flags, Captain!” She called out and despite himself, he threw his head back and laughed, closing the door to his used-to-be-office and opening the window. There were paints there already, in all colours and new paintbrushes he’d ordered online, and a record player he’d put there last night along with his favourite records. Today was a good day.

This was a good life. 

_____________________

The two spent a few hours doing their own tasks, reconvening in the kitchen for brief snacks and glasses of water and stolen kisses on countertops. Then, after one of the two managed to pull away from the other, there would be a tap on the bum accompanied with a quick smirk and farewell before disappearing in a pile of paints or boxes. 

YN shut the door behind her, leaning against it and catching her breath. The elevator was down for maintenance, and knowing Steve would probably lecture her on it, had brought down all the boxes and packaging to the dumpster by herself. It had only taken three trips, but she was well and truly tired now and ready to just crawl into bed with her boyfriend and sleep for years. 

Speaking of which, she hadn’t seen him in a while. She walked through her neat rows of white baby furniture lining the hallway and came up to the closed door. She pressed her ear to the door and smiled softly to herself at the sounds she heard. There was the scratching sound of Steve’s record along with the cool-far away sounds of the city outside of their small paradise of warmth. 

And Steve’s voice. 

It was a little flat, a little off tune, but perfect all the same as he sang softly to the song playing on the record. Somehow, his voice sounded like a perfect pair with the crooning, warbling sound of Billie Holiday— an everlasting, classic sound that made YN’s heart flutter in her chest. In only a few months time, she could be hearing this same scenario— just opening the door this time to see Steve in all of his hulking self curled around the smallest baby girl and cooing soft songs and poems to her as if she was his whole damn world. 

The back of her knuckles rapped against the heavy oak of the door and his singing stopped immediately. 

“‘Lo?” He called. 

“You almost done, baby? ‘M goin’ to bed soon.” She called back and she could hear Steve place his brushes into the jar and shove some garbage into a bag before the door opened just enough for his face to poke through. 

“Close your eyes.” He whispered, and she giggled before doing so, feeling the breeze of Steve opening the door and stepping around her, covering her eyes with his hot hands and leading her into the room. It seemed they were walking forever before they stopped, and YN could have vibrated with the excitement she felt. She could smell the scent of acrylic and oil and gouache. 

“Steve can I look?” She whispered eagerly and he kissed the crook of her neck before stepping back. She could hear him move slightly behind her, but she kept her eyes closed obediently. 

“In three, two, one, open your eyes, Ma.” He said, a nervous shake in his voice. 

What YN saw made her heart stop in all its entirety. The room was no longer the pale grey of his office, but was now filled to the brim with vibrant colours of the jungle. Detailed trees crowded the walls and seemed to somehow make the room three times bigger. There were animals in and around the trees, and she walked forward to look at them closer, a hand covering her mouth in awe. There were small rodents hiding around the frame of the window, large eyes looking as if they would blink at her if she stared too long. Curled at the base of a tree, there was a brightly coloured tiger with individual hairs and eyes that made a chill go up YN’s spine. Her hand fell to her belly as she continued to walk around the room, staring only at the walls. There was an elephant against the adjacent wall, and a monkey in the top corner— on the other side of the room, there was a gorilla with a baby strapped to her back, and Yn sniffed and wiped her eyes, turning to Steve who was still standing behind her. 

Except he wasn’t standing at all. 

He was on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand and an impossibly nervous look in his eye. 

“Steven Grant.” YN whispered, shaking from head to toe, rooted to the spot several feet away from him. 

“YN, I know we’re already technically engaged, but please. Hear me out.” He waited for her to make any form of protest and when she didn’t, he sucked in a nervous breath and began to talk. 

“On Halloween when I had taken you home, I’d never expected for any of this to happen. I never expected to end up with a family. I never expected my life would feel so full and I never expected I would ever be this happy. Most of all, I never expected that I would love you as much as I do.” He started, and YN walked a few steps closer as he opened the box. The ring was simple— a single gold band with one single diamond on it— classic, beautiful. 

“But I do love you more than I ever thought I could and that love grows more and more each passing day. You make me a better man— the man my mom would have always wanted me to be. You make me a man who I’m proud to be. You, in all your glory and kindness and sass and unbent beauty make me a better man, and I want to be a better man for you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me.” He sniffed, tears flowing freely from his eyes. YN whimpered, hand on her belly and over her mouth to stop the sobs boiling in her chest and ruining his speech. 

“YN YLN, I know we’re already engaged, but I want you to have this ring. I want to genuinely marry you because I’ve fallen so, helplessly, unfalteringly, unabashedly in love with you and I want to marry you, so, I guess I should ask, huh?” He cried, wiping his face with his sleeve and looking up at her. She nodded eagerly, bouncing eagerly from one ball of her foot to the next like an over-excited puppy. 

“Will you do me the honour of marrying this old man?” He asked and YN stood, eyes glued to the ring in his hands, frozen. 

“YN?” He breathed nervously at her lack of response.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you— I mean I was already gonna marry you but yes.” She cried, falling to her knees in front of him. They wrapped their arms around each other, and cried. She pressed her mouth to his in a desperate kiss and he swallowed her sobs, replacing them with his own. 

“I love you, baby.” He sobbed, pulling back and grabbing her hand. He took her still-bare ring finger and slipped the ring on like it was always meant to be there. It glittered softly under the lighting of the Jungle Room they were kneeling in the middle of and she pulled his face closer to her, kissing him again softly. 

“I love you more, Steve Rogers. How did I ever come to deserve someone as good as you, huh?” She whispered, wiping her tears with the tips of her fingers and wrapping her fists in the soft grey fabric of his t-shirt. 

“Well I was just about to ask out he same question.” He smiled brightly. Steve Rogers was getting married to the love of his life. Getting married to his Persephone, his Eurydice, his Jane Eyre, his Elizabeth Bennett. 

His YN YLN. 

And as he coasted her around the room in his arms, their faces tucked into each other, Steve Rogers swore he never existed before this moment. 

____________________

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose /  laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot/ vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 / laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani  / @captainomad / eversonaive / rainbowkisses31 / i-think-i-am-adorable / rainbowkisses31 / smalltintedgorl / 

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: A Rainy Day - Chapter 1

Author’s Note: I have returned! *grand flourish* I missed you guys! I just couldn't get myself to write. Then I remembered that I had some random fics that I'd written that I could finally make use of! Woo! In case it hasn't become clear, this series isn't going to be posted super in order, though I will keep it chronologically order. I'm just kind of writing as it comes to me. Still working on deciding which reveal scenario I want to go with, but in the meantime, I have been working on an old idea that had to get scrapped to tide you over. It won't be canon to this series, but should be fun.

Anyway, let's get on with this story!

Summary: Marinette decides to patrol in the rain.

“Hey,” Claude calls from the front door, “Anyone know if Mari had plans tonight?”

Allan pauses as he’s scrolling through his phone on the couch. “Uhh, I think she was scheduled for patrol tonight, but given the rain, she probably stayed in. Why? You try t’ text her or something?”

“No actually. I just opened the door to a completely drenched and shivering Doodlebug.”

“She didn’t.” Allan stands, turning to look at the doorway.

Sure enough, Claude is shutting the door with his foot, carrying Marinette inside. The woman is completely soaked, shaking from the chill. The man can’t tell if she’s conscious or not.

Allegra looks up from where she’s piled herself in blankets on a chair. “She didn’t even use the balcony?”

“I guess not.” Claude looks at the designer. “I know using the front door is polite and all, but really, Mari.”

She just mumbles incoherently.

“She’d better have taken the elevator at least,” Allan mutters, “I’ll get the heated blankets.”

Allegra walks over, taking Marinette from them. “I’ll get her in some dry clothes. Good Kwami, she’s freezing. Marinette seriously.”

“Going out in this weather. I cannot believe it.” Pollen grumbles from her own spot near where Allegra had been.

Claude grins. “Bee-lieve?”

The Kwami doesn’t respond, cuddling closer into the blankets.

Allan returns. “I sent a text to Adrien. ‘e’s probably sleeping, but when he wakes up, at least he’ll know where she is.”

Allegra returns with Marinette, who is looking much better in some warm pajamas she’d left behind once. She’s still pretty out of it though.“Wayzz, Trixx, you guys want to help Tikki?”

The Ladybug Kwami is curled up on her chosen’s chest, not faring much better from their bout in the storm.

The two Kwamis float over, and Wayzz brings her over to where Pollen is still keeping warm. Allegra attempts to set her friend on the couch, but in her sickly state, she’s clingy, and won’t let go.

The blonde sighs. “Mari, honey, you’re adorable, and great, but you are freezing, and I refuse to hug you until your skin is at least back to normal.” When she doesn’t let go, Allegra looks up. “Claude get over here, you mammal,” She spits the word out, fake venom behind it, “With your warm-bloodedness, and ability to go out in the cold.”

“Oh, how dare I. Ma’am, you do realize you’re a human?” He teases, walking around the couch.

“A human who hibernates.”

“Hey, Bug, you gotta’ let her go. Ms. Bee here isn’t about to freeze because of your poor choices.”  He reaches towards the drowsy girl, carefully separating her from Allegra. Marinette complies, grabbing for Claude instead.

“You’d better get comfortable, she’s not gonna’ let you go.” Allan approaches, plugging the heated blanket into the wall.

Claude adjusts himself slightly, letting Marinette rest on top of him. Allan tosses the blanket over the pair, and Claude gets out his phone taking a picture of the girl to send to Adrien, before going back to what he’d been doing before he’d heard her at the door.

Allan heads to the kitchen, and Allegra curls into her blankets further. She glares out the window at the rain that dared interrupt her spring day, before getting out her phone to text her girlfriend - if the expression on her face is anything to go by.

Claude mindlessly combs through Marinette’s damp hair with their fingers. After about an hour, the rain begins to let up.

“Claude, could you get her up?” Allan calls, “She’s got t’ eat something warm.”

“On it!” With that, he shifts, sitting up more so that Marinette would have a harder time sleeping comfortably. He shakes her shoulder gently. “Come on, you gotta’ get up now.”

She groans, moving a little, but not committing to anything.

Allegra glances up. “Mari, dear, get up or Mom will hit you with his shell again.”

That draws a reaction. Marinette jolts upward, ready to get up before her brain decides it isn’t putting energy into that anymore and she slumps, though upright now.

At the same time, Allan screeches, “That was one time, and an accident!!”

“What was an accident?” Adrien asks, having arrived through the balcony.

“I told Mari to get up or Allan would hit her with his shell again.”

“It was an acCIDENT!”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Adrien turns to Marinette. “So. You.”

Claude grins. “Yes. Her.”

The woman just mumbles feverishly. He shakes his head, walking over and picking her up, carrying her over to the kitchen and placing her in a chair.

“You baby her,” Allan teases, setting some soup down.

“At least I haven’t hit her wi-”

“Finish that sentence and all your food will be burned and bland for a month.”

Adrien raises his hands, turning and backing off.

“He doesn’t have the heart,” Claude chimes in, “He lasts two weeks at most, and even then he doesn’t-” He catches Allan’s expression. “-not that I’m trying to give you any reason to practice! Your threats are threatening, spare me please.”

“Felix says we’re all fools, but Marinette especially,” Allegra informs, having updated the other blonde on what’s going on.

“Well duh, what else would we be?” Claude rolls his eyes. “Oh, uh, someone might want to grab Nettie. Or her soup. Or both.”

Adrien and Allan both turn, the Cat holder supporting his Lady, while the turtle holder moves the bowl out of the ‘potential faceplant zone’.

Marinette did manage to eat a fair amount of soup, but now she’s slumped against Adrien, which, though more comfortable than a table, isn’t exactly what’s considered bedrest. Allan shakes his head affectionately, simply handing Adrien a  bag holding a reusable container with more soup. The blonde pulls it over a shoulder, then scoops up his girlfriend.

“Time to get this one home. Bye guys!”

The group exchanges goodbyes, before Adrien transforms and heads out.

---

Author’s Note: 💜💜💜 Yes, there will be more of this, but it isn't finished yet. Once I can get myself to write this will get finished eventually. I meant to get something up yesterday, but I got distracted by getting sucked into an amazing game series. If any of you guys like puzzle games with some crazy mystery and creepy vibes, then the Cube Escape series is for you. I literally spent my entire day on that over skype with my friends. It's free, though the developers have other games that you can buy. Definitely reccomend! I know, I know, you're not here for my app recommendations (#NotSponsored, obviously). That said, I got sucked into Sky: Children of the Light, and all I'm going to say is that it's adorable and wholesome, and I'm going to stop talking about it now. (It’s a delight though, let me tell you) In writing news! (You know, what you're here for) I have another one-shot that I'll probably have posted in a few days. I wrote it a while ago, but now that the main story is over I can finally post it. I would have put it up today, but I figured I'd be nice. 😉💞💞💞💞 Love you guys! Stay safe!

[ecofinisher]

Adrigami Week - First Fight

I totally forgot about the start of the week and just posted it now 😭 @adrigami-week

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21872389/chapters/52204459

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13456678/1/Ecofinisher-s-oneshot-for-the-Adrigami-Week-2

Adrien Agreste stood in front of a two-leveled house holding a red paper bag, then the blonde placed the hand inside the pocket of his pants to take out a bundle of keys, then picked out one by the green hold to unlock the door afterward he entered into the house and closed the door behind him. 

“I’m home” Adrien announced into the corridor of the house, then entered into the living room to see Kagami standing with the smartphone leaned on her ear. “Happy anniversary,” Adrien said, then Kagami looked back at the blonde and sighed in relief as she saw the young man standing behind her.

“There you are,” Kagami said as her husband stood there holding the red paper bag in his hands.

“Didn’t you read my note on the fridge?”

“You mean the note, that you would meet Luka out for a coffee?”

“Yeah….wait were you talking with Luka on the smartphone?” Adrien questioned looking at Kagami, which had crossed her arms and holding on her left hand the smartphone.

“It was Marinette, but she mentioned that Luka was the whole evening with her dinning at the Couffaine’s, there was no chance that you and Luka had actually been together”

“Okay, I got a very good explanation for that, Kagami...”

“It’s 8 pm, I tried to call you to ask if you would arrive later or not,”

“I’m sorry, I forgot the AUX cable at home and couldn’t charge my phone or call you from there to warn you about the traffic around the train station. There were so many police cars and everything was blocked there, you couldn’t enter there” The blonde explained. “I don’t know, what was going on there”

“I saw it on the news” Kagami answered waving at Adrien with the smartphone. “It showed a distorted image of a man similar dressed as you being pushed into the railway in front of a train and I thought it could have been you…..you didn’t attend any of my phone calls, you…..I thought you died!”

“Shhh Kagami no, I’m here, I’m alright, see?” Adrien assured grabbing the Japanese descendant woman on the shoulders to comfort her. “Look I…...”

“Where did you go before?” Kagami asked glaring at the blonde, still unhappy about Adrien’s lie. “Why did you lie to me? Are you hiding something?”

“No, I’m not. I wanted to get you a gift for our wedding anniversary, which I wanted to buy you yesterday, but I’ve forgotten it”

“But why did you lie?” Questioned Kagami raising an eyebrow up. “You could just have said that”

“I could, but it was supposed to be a surprise. I didn’t want to hurt you” Adrien explained grabbing Kagami on her hands, seeing, that his wife still was annoyed, then both shrieked as they heard something break and they looked at the entrance to see a broken vase on the floor with a rose lying over the wet floor and beside it walked a small Tuxedo kitten, tipping with the left front paw on the head of the rose, then it started to play with the rose while Kagami and Adrien watched the cub play.

“I clean that up” Kagami mentioned walking in the corridor. “We got leftovers from last night in the fridge. If you’re hungry, just warm it up” Kagami said passing beside the kitten, which observed the woman pass beside him, making the kitten smile and follow her into the kitchen.

Later Adrien was on the second floor of their house on the balcony having a video call with his best friend Nino, which was sitting in the waiting room of a hospital. Adrien was already dressed in a red boxer shirt and a white tank top, ready for heading to bed afterward.

“Alya’s good, she’s in there with Ivan to see Myléne,” Nino explained. “She’s all good too,”

“That’s great, I’m happy for them” Adrien answered.

“Yeah it’s a memorable moment, mostly for our wives”

“Yeah right,” Adrien agreed, then rolled his eyes into the bedroom to see Kagami wasn’t there yet, then Adrien looked back at the screen to see Nino look at him neutrally as he could sense by only looking at the facial expressions of his best friend, that something wasn’t right.

“Is there trouble between you and Mrs. Agreste?” Nino asked making Adrien shrug his shoulders.

“She hasn’t talked to me for two hours. I think I messed up a lot today”

“What did you do today?”

“I just went out to buy her a gift for our wedding anniversary and I haven’t finished to fully explain my story…..you know I told her instead of going out to buy her something, that I went to meet Luka and somehow today there was something going on at the train station, that a guy similar dressed to me was pushed into the railways and Kagami saw that on the news and believed it was me and spent the whole afternoon believing I was gone”

“Well, that’s shit.... Well, you could have just said you needed to get something from a store without saying it was for her, but I speak now from experience, that almost every one of us lied once or more in their lives to our partners just to prepare a romantic dinner or something else. I know you lied to her out of love because you wanted just to bring her something without her knowledge.”

“That’s even the reason. I just wanted to bring her a gift and just because I told her I was with Luka instead of saying I went to buy something she now doesn’t speak to me”

“Talk to her again, when you see her. If she doesn’t talk to you write her a message or a letter. She has to understand it. You can also promise her you won’t do that again or you do something else instead of coming up with a white lie to cover any of your plans to woo her.”

“I’ll do it. I need to be careful though, she’s pregnant and women are during pregnancy kind of….

“Thin-skinned?” Nino asked. “Dude if you saw Alya’s mood swings you probably would question yourself if that is actually Alya,”

“Just two days ago Kagami acted similar to Rose as our kitten tripped over his toy, calling it mommy’s favorite”

“Could be worse dude, last week Alya just told me Lila went out to eat with her family and she called her husband daddy in front of her own father and believe it or not, if Alya would have said that in front of her dad….I would be dead”

“Okay, that sounds way too far-fetched”

“The blonde barista you met last month at my house told me his wife wanted almost an hour before dinner to eat strawberries with crème and she wouldn’t shut up about it until she got it”

“Oh yeah I know, but….”

“Or Claudine from Alya’s old class in business education watched a comedy movie and had to cry just because someone got hit in the groins”

“Uh okay, but….”

“And Jin from your class his wife was inspired outta nowhere to play rock on a violin.”

“No Nino, that’s actually wrong. She was asked if she could play rock on it and she tried to learn it and I think she got it,”

“Oh then I misinterpreted that”

“Maybe” Adrien said with a chuckle, then Nino moved in the screen his head aside to see behind his friend.

“Look Kagami is going to undress herself” Nino mentioned while Adrien looked back to see the woman sit on the bed opening up the buttons of her black blouse.

“Good” Adrien said looking at his friend, which was still looking at Adrien’s girlfriend, then Adrien realized what Nino was doing and turned the tablet away from the window. “Hey, hey, hey that’s my wife, you’re looking at” Adrien warned making Nino laugh.

“Sorry dude. I got distracted. Go on and talk with her. Just be calm and honest and if she cries, just let her cry. The first months of pregnancy bring you a lot of ups and downs, just don’t let yourself go down during that time. That phase will pass”

“Alright, I’m off for now”

“Bye bro” Nino said and Adrien took the tablet into the bedroom placing it on the drawer that stood vice versa to the bed, where Kagami sat putting on a red-colored nightgown made of silk.

Adrien approached his wife, then sat down on the bed beside her.

“Can I talk with you about before?” The Frenchman asked watching the woman opening the door to drop her clothes into a basket with clothing, then she walked back to open the bed. Adrien went to the side of the bed, where the windows of the balcony are and opened the bed cover along with Kagami, then he looked up at the blue-haired woman, which looked at the blonde watching her with a sad look, then Kagami sat down on the bed looking down on the floor.

“I’m sorry about how I acted towards you before” Kagami whispered, then Adrien rolled his eyes down thinking on their argument from before and he got on his knees on the bed, moving forward at the wife and placed his arms around her for an embrace.

“It’s not your fault, it’s also mine. I didn’t mean to hurt you as I told you I went out with Luka. I just came out with this excuse, so you wouldn’t know I was out to buy you a present for our wedding anniversary” Adrien explained. “I just wanted to surprise you. Sorry, if I couldn’t warn you before about me being late” Adrien apologized caressing her on the shoulder.

“I was afraid if I would never see you again. That I would have to raise our child all on my own”

“Shh this is not going to happen, I promise,” Adrien said observing Kagami lean her head on his chest, followed by the blonde drop his chin over her head. “Everything is alright”

Adrien kept patting the girl on the shoulder, then looked into her eyes, which were a little watery and he passed his thumb under her right eye to clean her teardrop, which ran her cheek down.

“Can I ask you a favor?” The Japanese woman asked earning a nod from the blonde.

“Go on,” He said quietly, watching Kagami move on their bed back against the board of the bed to sit straight and Adrien gazed at the woman, waiting for her to speak.

“Can we always finish our arguments or disagreements during the day, before we go to bed?” The Japanese descendant woman asked. “Make amends?”

“Sure, always” Adrien answered watching Kagami nod, then she looked at the blonde, which watched over her with care.

“Are you maybe wondering why I’m asking that?” The woman asked making Adrien shrug his shoulder.

“Could it have something to do with your dad?” Questioned Adrien seeing Kagami nod at his guess. “That makes sense”

“I’m afraid, that something like that happens to me again, mostly if it would happen to us. I couldn’t pass through this all over again” Kagami mentioned, followed by Adrien place his arm behind Kagami’s back to soothe her.

“This won’t happen Kagami” Adrien assured pecking her on the cheek, then gazed at her eyes, which rolled up locking up with his emerald green eyes and Adrien looked at the bed to see their kitten try to leap at the bed, making him chuckle and Kagami picked the kitten up, holding him closer to her face, then the kitten rubbed his head on Kagami’s neck purring. Adrien smiled lovely at the cuteness of the cub and lied down on the bed watching the wife fondle the kitty, afterward she lied down on the bed and dropped the kitten over their covers and the kitten walked down at the end to lie next to the feet of the woman and the couple looked at each other with a smile as their pet lied down, then both lied their head down on their pillow closing their eyes to fall asleep.

[svtmatokis]

Mingyu Office AU! P8

Hi guys!!! I am soooo sorry this took so long and thank you for all the continued support during this short hiatus. My laptop took over two months to fix (it wasn’t serious...just MSI has terrible customer service) and all the work was on here but I FINALLY have it back! I was also on tour for work over the last few months which put a dent on posting as well since a computer wasn’t all readily available >< thank you all again n

I’m so sorry you guys had to wait for this and I’ll be posting the final chapter later tonight or tomorrow (as its going through a few revisions) after that I’ll have a few projects que’d while I work on a new project that I will be revealing fairly soon.

Thank you alllllll sooooo much for the continued support and I you guys enjoy the next project! Much Love ♥

Pairing: Reader x Mingyu

Parts:  1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Words: 3471

A few days had passed since the last incident. Seungcheol had given special permission and allowed you and your team to have the project meeting outside of the office in order for you to rest and recuperate and also to give you a peace of mind.

This meant that the meetings ended up at your apartment which Chan and Dahyun found odd since Seungcheol rarely gave special permission like this but they figured it was so you could have some peace since almost everyone on the seventeenth floor had seen the daughter of the China head (Mei Wei) slap you in the face.

Mingyu was practically at your side all the time at the office and Dahyun had seen the immense change that happened in him. He had gone from the charming ladies man to devoted boyfriend and she was extremely amazed that someone like you had managed to make him change like that. What shocked her was that your relationship never changed at the office. You were both professional with one another but there was no doubt that his eyes would follow you whenever you left his side and everyone could see how protective he was of you.

The China team had come and gone and you were happy to finally have your normal schedule back but that didn’t mean it was all that normal.

Various associates had tried to contact you throughout their visit but you rejected each and everyone. Claiming that various projects took up your time which was somewhat true.

It was the week of your one month anniversary with Mingyu and you obviously didn’t expect much but he greeted you with flowers at your door in the morning on the first day and throughout the week, you found little gifts on your desk everyday after lunch ranging from chocolates to little pieces of jewellery ranging from earrings to a bracelet  and you couldn’t help but wonder how Mingyu could afford all of this.

It wasn’t till that Friday when he had taken you out for the official dinner (not like you two didn’t have dinner together at all that week) but this time he had asked you to dress in something of his choice and he took you one of the top restaurants on Gangnam.

“You really didn’t have to do all this. The gifts through the week were more than enough” you said softly as you sipped your wine and Mingyu gave you that cute grin that always managed to make you swoon.

“It’s not a big deal Y/N. Take it as a sign of my affection” he said as he took a bite of his meal. “Do you like it?”

“I love it” you replied instantly, “it’s just… we’ve only been going out for a month….”

“And I had every intention of making you mine since you walked into the boardroom that day” he said making you blush,”and like I said before, I knew you wouldn’t agree until I could prove myself to you. I had a reputation and it wasn’t going to help anything so I had to change.”

You looked at Mingyu and thought about his words and knew that he was right. Had he maintained the reputation he had, you knew that you wouldn’t have had spared a second glance but over the months he had managed to woo you and win you over and you knew the main reason was because of his change in attitude and persona.  

He had rendered you speechless and tried to rectify his words. “I mean… everything I heard from Jun and Minghao about you was amazing and to meet you in person… I realized that I had my work cut out for me..”

You blushed again at his words and shook your head, “you’ve done so much in the last three months and I know when you put something in your mind you won’t stop till it’s done...I find that really admirable.”

Mingyu grinned at your words and before he could say more, the waiter came and offered dessert and soon the two of you found yourselves ready to go.

As Mingyu helped you put on your jacket a familiar voice came from behind you and you turned your head shocked.

“Minghan?” You asked and Mingyu turned his head towards the voice smiling but was surprised over the fact that you too knew this person.

“Little brother, what are you doing here?” He asked and you looked up at Mingyu shocked.

“Little brother?” You asked looking up at your boyfriend as said person approached you.

He gave you a small smile as he put his own jacket on and you knew his look meant that he’d explain later.

“I thought it was you, I didn’t realize till I saw the tattoo on your back” Minghan said as he approached the two of you. “I just didn’t think I would see you with my brother of all people.”

“Of all people? Mingyu asked joining the conversation. “I’m sorry, how do the two of you know each other?”

“If you recall, one of our subsidiaries started an investment group which as you already know is currently one of the main investors of the China office. I met Y/N through VP Lu and we’ve managed to stay in touch over the years.” Minghan explained as you nodded and Mingyus jaw dropped slightly. He couldn’t believe that the two of you were friends and he had no idea about it.

“How did I not know this?” he whispered to himself as Minghan started answering your question.

“And you heard correct. Mingyu’s my older brother.” he said as your jaw dropped.  “He still holds most of the shares and attends meetings monthly since he’s still on the board. I oversee all operations conducted with the companies and we just make sure there’s never a conflict of interest.”

“Is that your monthly doctors appointment?” you asked bluntly and Mingyu nodded as he placed a hand at the small of your back but you instinctively avoided his touch and that threw him off but you wouldn't have been able to tell.

Minghan knew he had cracked open a can of worms that Mingyu hadn’t opened yet but he was shocked that Mingyu didn’t tell you anything about his family. With how much he talked about you during family dinners, he was expecting Mingyu to introduce you to the family sooner. He also knew that opening this can of worms may cause some trouble between the two of you and he hoped that you would understand.

He had heard bits and pieces about the drama over the years through Luhan and knew how you reacted in various situations and only hoped for the best.

“So what are you two up to tonight?” he asked clearing his throat though he already knew the reason.

“We’re celebrating our one month anniversary” Mingyu responded his face full of annoyance which Minghan picked up on instantly knowing he had major plans that night.

“Congratulations.” Minghan said as you thanked him quietly and he looked at his watch. “Mingyu, if you have the time, theres something that I’d like your input on if thats okay.” he then looked at you with an apologetic smile, “It won’t be long, I promise.”

You gave Minghan a smile which he noted didn’t reach your eyes.

“Of course.” you said as Mingyu gave you the valet ticket.

“It won’t be long.” he said smiling and handing you some bills to tip the valet.

“We’ll have to catch up over coffee sometime.” you said giving Minghan a hug.

“Definitely, lets do dinner instead? There’s a restaurant I think you’d like and you paid the last time I was in China so I should return the favor.” he said making you nod.

“Dinner it is. I’ll text you later.” you said walking out the door and the moment it closed, Mingyu smacked his brother on the head.

“What the heck was that for?” Minghan growled.

“You literally asked my girlfriend out in front of me.”  Mingyu growled back, “Now tell me what you need to discuss with me so urgently that it can’t wait till the board meeting next Wednesday.”

“Well…” Minghan started it only took him three minutes to explain the whole situation.

“We’ll see what everyone else thinks at the meeting. Until theres proof that there’s a gain, I can't see why we’d want to scrap the project.” Mingyu responded and stood up, “If that’s all, I’d like to get back to my girlfriend now.”

“Of course.” Minghan responded, “And for the sake of your relationship...don’t hide anything from Y/N...Yanan did that to her for almost five years so she’s probably wary that you didn’t tell her something this big sooner.” he sighed. “But then again, you were always one to leave things to the last minute.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes at Minghan though he knew that Minghan had a point over the fact that he should have brought this topic up with you sooner but he wasn’t going to let his brother know that. The two of you were friends and at one point, he probably knew you better.

When Mingyu got in the car, he could tell something was wrong almost immediately but tried to ignore it as he started thinking about the next phase of the date he had planned. He reached over to take your hand in his but you turned your body so it was facing the window as you folded your hands in your lap.

He gently tucked his hand into your folded ones and managed to pry the two apart, bringing one of them to his lips.

“So I was thinking we could go for a walk at the park by the river before I take you home.” he suggested as he made his way to said park since he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I think I want to go home.” you said softly, looking out the window and Mingyu’s hand tightened around yours.

“Why?” he whined, It’s our three month anniversary and you want to go home already? ‘He asked pouting and you tried not to smile. He was such a puppy.

"Come on, let’s go for a walk…I think we need to talk..” he said a bit more seriously and you sighed in defeat and Mingyu could only do a little happy victory dance in his head.

When you arrived, he got out of the car first and went to the trunk only to appear on your side with a pair of black flats.

“I didn’t think the heels would be ideal and we can’t have your feet hurting now can we?” he asked as he helped you take off your heels and put the flats on, Mingyu then reached into his back pocket to present you with a single daffodil stem which had a small tag attached to it.

‘New beginnings'

You looked at Mingyu confused as he grabbed your hand, “Let’s go”

As you walked down the path, Mingyu stopped and went behind a tree only to come back with an Amaryllis and this time, the tag said something else.

‘Determination’

Looking up at him, he only smiled and offered you his arm. You slowly took it as he lead you further down the path and after a few minutes, the two of you reached a bench that had a gift box with a single bow on it.

“What is this?” you asked, looking between the flowers and the gift box as you sat down. No wonder he insisted on going to the park. But when did he have time to set this all up?

“Open the box” Mingyu said softly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

When you lifted the lid, you were met with bright purple tissue paper and an envelope that contained photos of the two of you and your new friends from the office from the beginning of your friendship to now. You didn’t even remember when some of these were taken but was surprised at a few of them.

There was one of you and Joshua at a get together that Jun organized in efforts for you to get to know the people on your floor and you were surprised to see a photo from the day Mingyu drove you to that big client meeting and then had dinner after and you remembered Jun telling you that he and Minghao had seen the two of you together that night so one of them must have taken the photo.

“When I was at your apartment, I saw all the photos you had with your friends from the old office so I wanted to help you decorate your apartment with your friends from the new.” he explained as you went deeper in the box.

You grinned when you found a few of your favorite candies and snacks and immediately took one of the candies and popped one into your mouth before offering Mingyu one and he happily took it from your fingers with his mouth.

“I know that you have the afternoon munchies…” he started and your head immediately shot up wondering how he knew and he chuckled.

“I know about your snack little snack drawers and little adventures across the street to the dessert shop with Kyulkyung.” he said pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the side of your head. “But the fact that you eat so much but gain so little is extremely endearing” he said in your ear as his voice went slightly lower, “And kind of a turn on.”

His last statement caused the heat to rise to your cheeks and you hid your head in his shoulder so he wouldn’t see.

“Can you not...” you whined making Mingyu laugh as he wrapped his arm tighter around you. At least you seemed more relaxed then you had earlier in the car and he was happy that his plan was working despite the slight road block.

“Keep going, there’s one more thing.” he said nudging you and you readjusted yourself.

The last thing was an envelope addressed to you and he urged you to open it.

You skimmed the letter and as you got further into it, your jaw slowly dropped.

“You didn’t…” you whispered and looked at the date of the letter which was about three weeks after the two of you had met. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Do you think you would’ve accepted me back then?” he asked, “Even Jun and Minghao agreed that you probably wouldn’t have thought twice.”

“But you waited almost two and a half months…” you said skimming the letter again.

“And I’m glad I did. But this was to show you how serious I was about you...even when you didn’t know it. I just thought you’d want to know..” he explained, “I couldn’t tell anyone back then so the only way I could express myself was by writing this letter to you.” He then reached behind him to grab another box and you gasped.

“This is too much..” you said and Mingyu laughed.

“This is the last one, I swear.” he said taking the other box out of your lap and replacing it with this one.

You opened it quickly only to find the most gorgeous bouquet you had ever seen decorated with flowers which you knew represented love.

“It’s only been a month but I fell for you the first day, that I will always be truthful to you and tell you everything” he let out a sigh thinking about what happened earlier that night which caused that doubt inside of you. “I was going to tell you everything tonight and I didn’t expect to run into my brother, let alone finding out that the two of you were actually friends…”

Your silence urged him to continue as you processed everything that happened this past night. Mingyu was the heir to one of the biggest investment firms in all of Asia, not only that but he held a high position as Tier 1 associate as the company where you both currently worked. On top of it all, he remained as the majority shareholder at the investment firm which up until recently was actually competition to your company.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked and he sighed.

“Because it’s not really public knowledge that I left the family business. The guys on our floor know but outside of that, I don’t really go announcing it to the world. My dad is still the current head but with his recent health issues, my brother stepped in as CEO once I expressed my wishes to build myself from the ground up but in order to honor my family, I will be stepping back into the role as head once my father decides to retire. My brother and I have come up with a system that works and I only have to be at board meetings once a month but he and my dad still make the big decisions and until my father retires, I am free to do as I please.” he explained.

“So you’ll eventually leave the company” you stated and he nodded with a slight sigh.

“Seungcheol knows about it but until that day comes, which won’t be for a long time might I add. We’ll continue working as we have been. I wanted to tell you sooner but I wanted you to also like me for me..” He rubbed the back of his neck, “And I never knew how to bring the conversation up so it was difficult.”

“But you managed to tell me everything in this letter…” you whispered looking up at him before looking down, “I’ve been burned so many times before that when Minghan told me about you...I froze. I didn’t know how to act and only defaulted to what I usually did…”

“Which was distance yourself and I’m sorry...I never wanted that to happen especially on a day like today.” he took both your hands into his and brought them to his lips, “I wanted to be honest with you from the beginning but I also had my doubts and I haven’t dated much for this same reason…”

You understood completely and nodded your head, “I’m glad you told me now...and I completely understand. Especially with your current fan club at the office…” you thought back to Nayeon who had been forced to apologize to you one day because she “accidentally” spilled coffee on you and you knew that Mingyu had stopped talking to her for that reason.

“You’re important to me...probably one of the most important things to me and I would never intentionally hide anything from you okay?” he asked leaning down to kiss your nose, “i promise that from now on, I’ll be completely honest with you and if anything happens, I’ll make sure to protect you.” He then wrapped you in his arms before leaning down and your lips met in one of the sweetest kisses that he had ever given you.

Your hand clenched the front of his shirt as his lips moved against yours and you suddenly felt yourself getting slightly warm as his hand rested on your thigh and the butterflies were going a hundred miles a second in your stomach and after a few minutes you had to pull away as you felt things were going too fast for a public place.

The two of you walked back hand in hand towards his car with the both of you carrying the flowers and gifts and it wasn’t long till the two of you were standing in front of your door.

“Do you...maybe want to come in for some dessert?” you asked biting your lip lightly and Mingyu resisted the urge to groan. You looked so tempting to him and all he wanted was to take you into your bedroom and not come out for a long time...a very long time.

Leaning down, his lips covered yours in a passionate kiss that had the two of you fighting for dominance but as your back hit the door, you knew that Mingyu wasn’t going to let you win this one.

Pulling away slightly so your foreheads were touching, he whispered, “Dessert sounds great.” before opening the door behind you and gently shoving you back into your apartment where your lips met once more in a more heated kiss.

You felt the heat rise as he gently lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his and as he carried you to the bedroom, you couldn’t help but think of how right everything felt at that very moment.

[analogical-trash]

Roceit spa day

here a cute little spa day for roman and deceit. if you want an angsty ending please look out for chapter two it will be out in like 5 minutes if you don’t this can stand on it own. 

word count:  1512

paring: analogical and roceit

@logince @samthekoalabear98 @analogically-prinxiety @analogicalhell

Roman sigh today was long he could feel a headache coming.  Luckily tomorrow was there day off. They all agreed on Saturday they would relax all he wanted to do is go to deceits room and have a spa day with his boyfriend.  

"Roman, Roman!" Logan said. Roman shook his head 

"Yeah yeah what were we talking about"

"You Okay kiddo?" 

"Yeah I'm just tried"

"It is late. Let's call it a day" Virgil said. 

"But we behind," Logan said worriedly. 

"It okay Logan. We work hard to catch up" Patton said. 

"... Okay" Virgil give Logan a kiss and told him to get some sleep. They all walked to their room. 

Roman was a bit jelly he wishes he could just kiss his boyfriend as if it was no big deal. But sadly it was. After Roman got into his PJs. He texted Dee 'finally done.  Your room or mine tonight?' He waited only a few seconds before he got a reply. 'Yours Remus is being loud again' roman waited and soon his door opened and his boyfriend walked in.  Talk and handsome like always. He wore a snake onesie that roman got him. Roman smiled, he moved over so that Dee could lay down next to him. Dee lay down. Roman frown.  

"Dee, are you still wearing your binder?" 

"No" deceit had told roman long ago that he would never lie to him. 

"Okay.  Dee are you wearing a sports bra?" 

"...."

"Dee you know you can't sleep in that"

"It's my old one" 

"lose one or the tight one?"

"....."

"Deceit" 

"Dysphoria really bad today" 

"Dee please for me" Deceit sighed but took off his bra.  Roman frown there was marks on deceit skin from where the bra was.  But Roman knew not to say anything as deceit did his stretches. Soon deceit joined him back on the bed. 

"I want to distort that thing" 

"I know you do honey.  But it makes me feel better about myself" 

"But it hurts you" 

"Can we not talk about this today. I just want to cuddle my boyfriend" 

"Okay" roman put his arms around deceit. They soon fell asleep. 

Roman was the first to wake. He looked at his boyfriend who looked so peaceful in his sleep the weight of the world not on his face.  Roman lay there watching him till deceit woke up. He slowly opened his eyes blinking at the light. Then looked over at him and smiled.  Roman breath stop for a second deceit truly was handsome. Roman kiss deceit. Dee hummed. After they pulled apart. They lay there a few more minutes before the need to use the bathroom got them out of bed.  After their blasters were empty. They got out everything they needed for spa day. Roman helped deceit put on the face mask being careful around Dee scales. They decided to lay in a bubble bath. Roman got in first and Dee lay on top of him.  Roman played with deceit hair and told him about the others and how the week when. Roman talked about how Logan made him feel dumb and Patton made him feel incapable. And don't even get him started on Virgil. Of course, deceit was a good Boyfriend and just listen even tho he wanted to tell roman that the others don't treat him right. But they had that talk before and it never ended well.  Too soon the water got cold they got out and washed each other off. They got back into their PJs and lay down in front of the TV. After some talk, they decided to watch some Disney. Roman sang alone to every song Dee watched him knowing that he was happy. Deceit even sang a few of the male parts Roman's eyes lighting up when he did. They watched a good four movies before Dee was falling asleep next to Roman. Roman turned off the TV. And picked Deceit up and carry him to his bed. Roman lay Dee down and then lay down next to him.  

"Goodnight my Prince"

"Goodnight my knight" 

Soon they were both asleep.  

They were woken up from a knock on the door. 

"Roman! I'm coming in" 

"No wait I'm coming," Roman said jumping out of the bed.  Dee when and his in the bathroom. Knowing there be trouble if the others found out. He made sure to grab whatever was his on his way there.  Roman waited till Dee was in the bathroom before opening the door. 

"Virgil what you doing here" Virgil didn't look happy.  

"I know you need your beauty sleep but everyone waiting for you.  And You know Pat won't let us eat till everyone there" 

"Okay, I'm coming just give me a minute" Roman quickly closed the door.  And run over to the bathroom.  

"Looks like you have to go," dee said not happy about it.  

"Yeah.  Don't worry we see each other tonight" Roman said as he got ready for the day. 

"If Logan actually lets you go to bed tonight." 

"We are behind. You should probably go to bed without me.  I'll come to your room and join you when we are done" 

"Okay. Just don't work yourself too hard" too soon Roman was all ready. 

"How do I look?" 

"Handsome" Dee give Roman a kiss goodbye before he left for breakfast. They were having pancakes today.  Roman ate with the others talking about there plans for the day. After eating they clean up and got to work. During lunch break, Patton suggested the one thing Roman hates.  A movie night next Sunday. Roman wished the others would disagree sadly they didn't. Saying it be good to relax with each other after working so hard. So plans were made. They were going to watch movies all day on Sunday.  Roman pretended to be excited but he was far from it. Sundays were his and deceit's time. He spends all week long with the other. The week when by slowly and with the knowledge that he won't get his spa day with his boyfriend it made It go by so much slower.  

Sunday came and they all gathered in the living room around the TV. Logan and Virgil took the love seat so they could cuddle. Lucky them. Roman and Patton sat on the couch.  Roman pretended not to know this Patton moving closer and closer to him. He knew pat liked him. But of course, he didn't feel the same way. Dee was the one that owns his heart.  During a break roman when to make popcorn Patton followed him. Roman turn around and Patton was right there.  

"Oh hey pat" 

"Hey Roman" Patton didn't move away. 

"What's up?" 

"Well I was thinking maybe after the movies we could go hang out in my room" 

"And do what?" 

"Oh I'm sure we think of something" he took a step closer. And put his arm around Roman. 

"Um, pat"  but it was too late Patton was kissing him.   Roman froze for a second Then pushed Patton away.  

"What?"

"Sorry Patton I don't feel the same way" 

"But maybe you could"

"No"

"Oh come on Virgil and Logan are happy together. Why don't you and I become a thing?  It not like there anyone else for you" 

"Sorry, pat I have to go" roman run out of there. Not listen to Patton and the others calling for him to come back.  

He runs into deceit's room. Dee was sitting on his bed.  

"Roman.  Woo, what wrong" Dee asked looking up and seeing how upset Roman was. 

"I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry he just come at me.  I didn't push him away fast enough" 

"Woo take a breath Ro then start from the beginning," Roman told deceit everything.  Dee getting mad but not at Roman but at Patton for making a move on him. Roman was his. No one else's.  Roman was also upset. Patton said that he was Roman’s only choice. But Roman knew Dee was the best choice. After they vented to each other about how upset they were they got quiet. 

"Tomorrow going to suck" 

"Yeah… what you going to do?" 

"I don't know. I could just tell them the truth" 

"No, you can't do that" 

"Why not.  I'm tired of hiding my love for you. Are You ashamed of me?"

"No of course not. I just don't want you to get in trouble you know the others hate me" 

"Logan doesn't hate you" 

"Congrats you found someone who doesn't hate me but doesn't like me. Please they way you say it logan wrapped around Virgil's finger and Virgil does hate me" 

".... I don't care I love you Dee and if they were my friends it won't matter." 

"That what cartoons may make you think but the world doesn't work like that. Come on your smarter than that" deceit said 

"Fine, I'll figure something out later.  Let just cuddle and go to bed. I'm done with today."

"Okay," they got ready for bed and snuggled up together on dad's bed.  They fell asleep.

[ahiddenpath]

Eyyy

Personal and writing update below ze cut.  Mwah!

Woo!  How ‘bout dat Digimon Psi?  I’m so glad it’s a separate timeline from Adventure 1999.  I hope a bunch of new kids get to become Chosen and grow up with Taichi and friends.

I’ve been sketching new outfits for Eimi to suit 2020, but I feel shy about posting them.  I wonder what she would be up to?  Probably still reading literature and trying to get by at home, honestly.

As for my personal life...  My CEO addresses the company quarterly.  At the most recent one two weeks ago, he said that money is tight and “headcount reductions” are possible.  I’m hoping I still have at least a year left there, but who knows?  I’m not stressing over it, though, as my husband will support me while I search for a new job.

However, I’m in a bit of a bind!  Most labs have a lab manager (LM), someone who orders supplies and basically makes sure the lab has whatever it needs to run smoothly.  Our LM had a contractor to be her “materials handler,” which means they accept deliveries of the maaaaany many packages a lab receives, distributes them, and stocks the supply room shelves.  For reasons best known to her, the LM fired the last contractor after his six month contract passed instead of hiring him for another period.  Now, she has no contractor, and the company won’t promise her a new one.

So basically, she asked every research group to offer someone to work as a materials handler for a day each week...  So now, every Friday, I get paid a scientist’s salary to... stock shelves. 

My task now is to make it clear that I won’t be doing this in addition to what I would have done during that work day.  Like...  Okay, now Fridays are dedicated to stocking.  I am not still doing research that day.  Before therapy, I would have been suckered into just taking care of everything.  Now, I need to stick to my guns.  I should be able to?  We’ll see.

My Mom is still struggling with her situation with her husband.  Basically, he is now unable to work, but he needs to pay his medical bills and his half of their mortgage.  His savings will run dry soon, so it’s unclear how he will pay for his expenses.  My therapist suggested that I find a way to gently make it known that I will not house either of them if/when money runs out.  I, uh...  Really don’t know how one does that.  My fear is that, consciously or not, my Mom is basically...  Going to watch the money run dry, and then turn to me when it does instead of taking action to protect herself now.

Not gonna lie, it’s a bad situation.  

Creatively, I’ve been doing so well lately.  I should have another chapter of Seeking Resonance ready to go soon.  I’ve been having fun, feeling good, and feeling grateful.

I am going to start a diet once the birthday cake my husband made me is gone.  I’m not super thrilled, but...  Well, I want to lose some weight/eat better/exercise more for my health.

I hope you’re all well! :)

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #5

Welcome back again folks! This week in our fifth interview @vermofftiss chats to @mizjoely about her love of lists, her fantasy season five finale, and reveals the truth about who really writes her stories...

Hi, @mizjoely here, chatting with @vermofftiss about my sherlolly writing and fandom experiences, and answering some questions submitted by a few other folks. I’ve been involved in fandom in one way or another since the early 1980s, which is also when I started writing fanfiction - for classic Doctor Who and Star Trek in its various incarnations.

@vermofftiss here, putting forward the aforementioned questions. I’ll also be trying to weasel some advice out of @mizjoely that I can use for my own writing, which has been a casual ongoing thing since I published my first sherlolly fic in 2014.

Vermofftiss: I think our first encounter was in the Sherlollychat in the fall of 2014, around the time I got onto AO3. Which means series 3 was five years ago. How does it feel knowing that series 4 was already two years ago? What’s changed in the time since it aired?

Mizjoely: Oh, I miss the sherlollychat, or at least I did until Channy came up with the discord version! It’s hard to fathom that so much time has passed since I joined the fandom! (I became active on tumblr in November 2013 after discovering Sherlolly earlier that same year, btw.) Series 3 was five years ago. Series 4 was two years ago. Crazy!

As for what’s changed since then, I’d have to say one positive thing is that the fandom wank has calmed way the hell down since S4…. Another change that I’ve seen is probably common to all fandoms over time - new writers and content creators have joined the fandom while (sadly) many others have moved on to other fandoms. Of course, that’s to be expected when your show is essentially over, but it’s still kind of sad to lose folks completely to other fandoms.

V: Which series was your favourite to play with as a writer? When did you really get into writing Sherlolly?

M: I would have to say Series 4 has definitely been a great series to write for - so much angst! The I love you! Mary Watson’s very sad death, Rosie Watson becoming a character, Mrs. Hudson showing us what a badass she is, and of course Eurus Holmes entering the picture. We might not have gotten as much Molly Hooper as we wanted, but the scenes we did get with her were tremendous and gave so much inspiration to me and many other writers.

I really got into Sherlolly as a ship after seeing TRF, as I’m sure is true with many folks - especially the “what do you need” scene. And it was so much fun to dive into the possibilities of life after Sherlock’s ‘death’ between Series 2 and 3, I consider that a real golden age of Sherlolly writing. My first published Sherlock/Sherlolly fic was “Conversations With A Dead Detective”, set Post Reichenbach, which according to fanfiction.net I published on 04/11/13 (so I’m nearly at my five year Sherlolly- versary, woo hoo!).

A quick look at my spreadsheet (don’t judge me, I love my lists) shows that I wrote or at least started 37 fics that year (one of which I’m still working on, yikes! - The World As We Know It, a vamp!lock fic). I’m currently sitting at almost 500 fics for Sherlolly, which still amazes me, that I could be that inspired by a pair of fictional characters! (For comparison, my second most prolific fandom is Doctor Who, for whom I wrote a total of 25 stories over a period of 20 years. And of those 25, only about a dozen were for my main ship, Five/Tegan).

V: A couple of questions from @ohaine - 

1) Based on the sheer volume of your work, I have this theory that you’re actually some sort of artistic collective rather than just one person, please tell me I’m right!

M: You have discovered my secret: I'm actually four raccoons in a trenchcoat! Seriously though, until I was bitten by the Sherlolly bug, my output was much, much lower, even though I've been writing fanfics since the early 1980s. For example, I love the Zutara ship for Avatar: Last Airbender, but I only wrote three fics for that. I wrote about 25 fics for Doctor Who, and about the same amount for the various Star Treks (not including Khanolly). Nothing set my writing muse afire like Sherlolly, and I doubt anything ever will again.

and, 2) You write a lot of AUs, and I’m wondering what inspires them?

M: Considering that I started off as a strictly Canon Universe/Canon Compliant writer in all of my other fandoms, it still seems funny to me how much I enjoy writing and reading AUs now. I started reading them after finally running out of canon compliant fics to read and discovering how much fun it was to transplant the characters into a different universe. And that, of course, made me think about what sort of AUs I could fit Molly and Sherlock into.

In fact, the very first BBC Sherlock story I started to write (never finished or posted) was an AU because I was nervous about trying to write Sherlock and figured no one would complain too much about him being OOC if it was a fantasy setting. (I ended up taking the plunge on a canon universe post Reichenbach fic and posted that and a lot of other canon universe fics before returning to AUs.)

Wait, that doesn't answer the question! What inspires them? The same things that inspire all my writing: wanting to read a specific kind of fic and not being able to find it; fics that other authors have written that make me itch to put my own spin on the idea; dreams; books I've read or movies or TV shows I've watched...inspiration is everywhere when you really, really, really love a ship. (Gawd that's cheesy but it's true - no love, no writing fanfic, period end of paragraph.)

V: This past spring I finally got the nerve to start working on my first proper AU (not CC, CU, or UA) after sitting on the idea for about 3 years. Have you ever had to wait to be “ready” to start working on a concept? How much do you need to know about a project to get going on it?

M: I have absolutely had to wait to be ready to start working on a concept. My very first attempt at a Sherlolly fic (never finished or published) was going to be an AU because I was so intimidated by the idea of writing Sherlock Holmes in the canon universe set up by Moffat & Gatiss. I was terrified I wouldn’t get his voice right, that he would be too OOC for folks, that I wouldn’t be able to make him clever enough or that I’d mess things up a dozen different ways. So I started writing the AU instead, and in doing so (over a course of several months), I finally realized that no, I wanted to start off in the canon universe. Just trying to write him at all, in any setting, made me a little less intimidated by him. But I might never have written anything if I hadn’t started that abandoned AU. (And I look forward to seeing your AU when you’re ready to post it!)

V: Does reader feedback ever impact the plots of your stories or the building of your AUs?

M: It absolutely can, especially when someone leaves a comment that makes me think about my story in a different light. I won’t go so far as to say comments have caused me to redo anything on a larger scale (such as change the ending) but certainly I’ve thrown things into the fic or expanded on ideas expressed in a comment to make the story that much richer.

That’s one of the best things about being active in fandom - the interactions between readers and writers. Of course, the reverse can also be true - I remember needing a LOT of fan-friend coddling when some folks were unhappy with the ending of my story ‘Abandoned’ (i.e., my Molly let my Sherlock get off too easily). But you have to have thick skin to be a creator, and remember that not everyone likes the same things. And you also have to be able to say yes, I could have done this better, or if I had to do it over I’d do it differently. It’s all part of the creative process.

V: Are there any scenes or aspects that were cut from a story that you regretted leaving out at the end?

M: Not really. Most things that I cut have been vetted by my betas (shout-out to ALL betas for being willing to help you make your story better!) and jettisoning those things has always made my stories better. (Plus I keep a folder of scraps that got cut and periodically review those scraps to see if I might be able to salvage them.)

V: On top of being one of the better-known Sherlolly writers in the tag, you’re also the single person behind the Sherlollbrary. As much as I love to organize my life and everything else I can get my hands on, that’s not something I think I’d ever actually want to do. So what made you decide to start cataloguing Sherlolly fics?

M: My love of lists. Seriously, that’s it. I love making lists of things - like, how many stories did I write in 2013 for Sherlolly (37, as you now know!), how many one-shots have I written vs. multi-chapters, how many were prompts...and then I started seeing people doing lists of various tropes. The one that made me decided to start my Sherlollilists side blog was one put together for Sherlolly omegaverse stories. As more and more lists were created, edited, and added (I’m currently at 140 official lists, with more than a dozen unofficial lists), I decided it would nice to organize them all (not realizing quite what I was getting into!) as one spreadsheet, with other tropes and tags and keywords for folks to help narrow down their searches. It always give me a little thrill when I open the library and see folks are browsing, so I like to think it’s a useful tool (although I am looking forward to finishing it someday!)

@writingwife-83 asked: You work tirelessly to organize all the multitude of writing this ship produces, but how do you feel that affects you as a writer? Does it make you less interested in writing your own fics? Or does it tend to help get the wheels turning and inspire you?

M: I have to admit, sometimes curating the lists can completely put me off writing, simply due to feeling oversaturated. This is especially true when I am reading or skimming over fics that are, shall we say, not the best of the bunch. Or the times when I'm just pushing myself even if I'm not really enthusiastic about doing it. Those times, I've learned to just step back, which is why sometimes the lists don't get updated very quickly.

On the other hand, rereading a favorite or a forgotten gem can really get my creative juices flowing. At times like that, I fall back in love with the ship and the fandom all over again.

V: When you’re stuck with writer’s block or just a lack of motivation, does it help you more to reread an old fave or to go back through some of your own works? Have you noticed your style has changed much?

M: It does help, absolutely. It reminds me why I love this ship so much, and helps me reconnect with others in the fandom. People think of reading as passive and writing as solitary, but to me it’s an interactive process. Reading great fics, new can old, helps feed your creativity. And nowadays the internet helps so much as well - there are awesome resources and fandom spaces to talk to other folks about their works and your own, reminding you that you’re not creating in a vacuum. (And I REALLY love the cheerleading section of the Sherlolly Discord site. That can help unstick my creativity like nobody’s business!)

As for my style changing - yeah, it definitely has. I feel like my writing has become more streamlined and less clunky since I first started. I still do a lot of semicolon abuse but at this point I’ve decided that’s just my style and will likely never change.

Thanks for the excellent questions and for letting me ramble on!

V: I’m sure we can do a lot more rambling if left on the trail. How about one last one: In the currently hypothetical series 5, how would you continue the story from where it left off?

M: Oooh, good one! If I was in charge we would see that Sherlock and Molly are continuing their relationship, culminating with a wedding at the end of the third episode. But since I’m not in charge, I’m thinking that Mofftiss would give us some subtle hints, like John casually mentioning to Sherlock that he and Rosie can’t join ‘them’ for dinner that night for whatever reason. And maybe some small changes to 221B to show hints that someone else spends time there other than Sherlock and the Watsons - a cherry patterned pillow, perhaps? A Bart’s ID card with a woman’s picture to show that no, it isn’t one Sherlock nicked to get access to a place he otherwise couldn’t get to? A woman’s coat hanging next to Sherlock’s? Something like that. And some private smiles between Sherlock and Molly, little things like that. Enough to give us hope but not enough to give us proof! They do like to tease that way!

Non-shipwise, I think Eurus would make a return because come on, how do you leave a character like that catatonic? I also think they would return to ACD canon to revise a few more cases for the modern age, and maybe (maybe!) have John start dating again (especially if they’re so married to canon that they killed Mary off - since John seems to have been married at least twice, they would probably explore that option).

I know, that last part is a bit vague but honestly? I hope they surprise the hell out of us in a good way if we ever get that fifth series!

Next Week, Friday March 22nd, @ashockinglackofsatin talks to @sunken-standard

[comfortablesilences110]

☕️

Thank you!! <3 

My favourite passage is from Mudblood, Chapter 2, The Lion and the Snake. 

 This is one of the first ones I ever wrote, and I love it. Draco is crazy mean to her and she just completely demolishes him. (Edited to make it a little more sfw) 

“This obsession had to stop. Especially now it was affecting her school work, she huffed to herself as she went to the store cupboard.

A bit of flobberworm mucus should hopefully thicken out the potion to allow her to continue. She walked into the dark cupboard and tried to find where old Slughorn had stashed it. She went through the ingredients bottles looking for the Slytherin-green jar. She had been so flustered by her disastrous potion, and Slughorns (most likely intentional) hiding of the saviour ingredient, she hadn’t heard the door open.

 ‘There you are!’ she said stretching upwards to reach for the substance that would save her the embarrassment of a week of re-brewing. It was too high up- she stood up on her toes but she still wasn’t tall enough. Suddenly the bottle was gripped by pale long fingers and pulled out of her reach behind her. She jumped at the sudden presence and went to calm, ready to thank the person, before she realised who those pale hands belonged to, and how close he’d have to be standing to reach past her. 

She spun around and was met with his condescending glare, ‘You can’t tell me the great Granger botched her potion already. We aren’t even in class a month yet.’ His face was inches from hers. He had taken off his robes and was in his jumper, white shirt sleeves rolled up to allow for potion making. He had filled out over the summer. She could see now that his robes were gone. But at his teasing of her academic ability her anger flared as their old rivalry was reignited. 

 ‘Oh sod off Malfoy and worry about your own damn potion!’ she snarled into his face as she reached out to snatch the potion.

He quickly retracted the bottle above her head, ‘Ah ah ah Granger.’ When had he got so bloody tall! ‘This is flobberworm mucus, usually quite safe… but far too dangerous for the likes of you. What if it mixes with your own muggle slime?’ He put his other hand to his heart as if in shock, ‘Why, you could poison half the class Granger!’ he said in mock distress. 

She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes at him. How she had melted for him yesterday seemed like miles away. He was insufferable. Handsome, but insufferable.

‘Are you wearing makeup today Granger?’ he asked, heightening the pitch of his voice to feign surprise. Maybe he wasn’t feigning, she thought, she never did actually wear it. It surprised her enough for her anger to slip momentarily and her arms dropped back by her sides.

‘Are you trying to impress a boy?’ talking to her as if she were a child. He put his arms out to the side, and looked around in a confident gesture as if to indicate others, trademark sneer in place, ‘And here we all thought you were only attracted to books,’ he leaned into her face as he emphasised the last word. ‘Surely your fan club won’t be pleased about that, probably been chasing your skirt for years.’

‘As you well know, Malfoy, Harry and Ron are in relationships and we have no interest…’

‘Aw I guess that makes sense. You’re the only one without. Even they don’t want you. I suppose blood traitors would be higher up on the scale than you…mudblood.’ He paused and deliberately emphasised mudblood. It made her nipples stand on edge. Desire melded with her anger, she wanted to punch him and f**k him all at once. She knew her cheeks would be inflamed, and the smug look on his face told her he thought he’d won and that infuriated her.

She took a deep breath and forced herself not to slap his smug face off. ‘Just bloody give it to me Malfoy!’ She knew her choice of words were a mistake as soon as they left her mouth. She put her hand out as if to indicate the potion to exaggerate her innocent meaning. But he wasn’t going to let the opportunity by. He would take her innocent statement and make it much more dangerous.

‘Ooooooh,’ he hooted like an owl, ‘the mudblood wants to play with the real wizards does she?’ He gestured to himself smirking, and moved towards her as if to intimidate her, ‘If I had of known you had it this hot for me I would have asked years ago,’ for a moment her heart stopped in stupid misguided hope that maybe he wanted her… He kept walking towards her so close their chests nearly touched. He leaned down towards her face and said quietly into her ear, ‘Would have saved a lot of effort having to woo a girl when a pretty little mudblood’s ready to spread her…’ he didn’t get any farther. The smirk was wiped off his face as she pushed him up against the opposite shelf in anger.

He looked at her, furious, ‘How dare you touch me, Mudblood!’

Hermione couldn’t help but smile and she saw Draco’s anger falter, his face registered fear before he carefully hid it behind a mask of outrage. The smile she wore wasn’t hers, it was a snake’s smile.

 ‘What’s the matter Malfoy, afraid of a little touch?’ her voice was laced with condescension as she pouted at him. She laughed low in her chest, ‘afraid you’ll like it?’ she stood as close to him as possible without touching him. She felt like she was someone else, she couldn’t believe where this had come from but the look on his face was worth it. He was breathing heavy and his face was conflicted desire. He didn’t move when she slowly moved her face closer to his, her breath ghosting his face, but still he didn’t move. She took his bottom lip in her mouth and sucked so lightly the kiss was barely there.

She heard him take in a breath and she smiled. She knew it had affected him. All he could say was, ‘get away from me mudblood,’ but it was weak and unconvincing.

 ‘Say it again,’ unable to keep the desire from her own words. 

He looked at her in complete shock but couldn’t resist the challenge. He leaned into her face, ‘…mudblood.’ She didn’t know who moved first but suddenly his arms were around her waist, the ingredient jar left abandoned on the shelf. One arm snaked around his neck and into his hair. He groaned when her fingers connected with his scalp. Her other hand was pressed firmly against his hard chest. His tongue swiped across her lips demanding access, she opened her mouth and gave in to him. She had never known a kiss could ignite so much desire within her. With every brush of his tongue, she could feel her body reacting to him.  

She needed to be closer to him, close wasn’t close enough. She pressed her body against his and he broke off the kiss. He suddenly pushed her away, ‘get off me mudblood filth!’ he panted as he stared at her. ‘As if I would ever lower myself to you’ his fingers gripping tightly to the shelf behind him, ‘I’m a Malfoy!’

The words might have hurt her if his tongue hadn’t just been fighting against hers so desperately, and if he had ever managed to get his breathing under control.

She reached past him lifting her bottle and strode confidently towards the door.

‘Tell that to your c**k Malfoy.’

They both knew she had felt his hardness against her body. She opened the door and left him there panting and conflicted. Pale hair dishevelled. She loved that she had done that to him.”

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Villainous Heroics - Chapter 15

Woo! This took so much longer than I wanted it to where midterms hit hard. Here we are, though, with Chapter 15. There's three more chapters left after this, so the story will be wrapping up shortly. Don't despair, however! I have "end game" drabbles planned for this series as well as two spin-offs that deal with mind sharing and body swapping. That's right, readers, we are FAR from done!

Enjoy!

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Summary: Eraserhead is an underground hero who is constantly busy and doesn’t have time to be dealing with new villains - even if they aren’t all that villainous and make the night interesting.

Present Mic is the latest up-and-coming villain in the world and he has a point to prove to everyone out there - as long as he doesn’t keep getting distracted by Eraserhead.

Aizawa Shota is someone who soon learns that there is more to someone than the mask they show to the world - especially when it comes to playing heroes and villains.

Yamada Hizashi learns that there is more to heroics and villainy than he could have ever thought - especially in a world where some heroes still care about those lost in the shadows.

(Inspired and dedicated to corndog-patrol’s Villain!Mic AU on Tumblr.)

            <<First/Chapter>> <<Last Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

                                           Chapter Fifteen

Halfheartedly scribbling a thumbs-up on Ashido’s latest test paper where she had achieved a low B, Shouta glanced at his phone as it started vibrating for the fifteenth time that hour. Considering his contact list was five names long, he could safely narrow it down to the only person who would find the need to text multiple messages in a row instead of confining her words into a single text box like a sane person.

‘Eraser!!!’ ‘When were you going to tell me that Present Mic was a hero?!?!?!’ ‘He just saved me and my sidekick a bunch of trouble!!!’ ‘He’s so great too!!!’ ‘He’s really a SCREAM!!’ ‘Lol but no seriously when were you going to tell me??’ ‘ERASER HE HELPED BANDAGE MY SIDEKICKS ARM AND GAVE HER A PIECE OF CANDY’ ‘IT WASN’T POISONED CANDY EITHER’ ‘OI ERASER CAN YOU HEAR ME???’ ‘He told me to tell you hi by the way he’s so cute’ ‘Really tho is he licensed?? When did that happen??’ ‘Ah he’s leaving now but seriously check the news it’ll probably be on there.’ ‘Did you delete my number again?? It’s me!! Ms Joke!! Your fiance!!’ ‘erASER’ ‘Tell Nem I said hi’

Exhausting. Joke was utterly exhausting and Shouta regretted every day that he hadn’t killed Nemuri for giving her his number. Moving to turn his phone off, Shouta frowned as it started ringing with an annoying American song that Nemuri had chosen for herself years ago. He almost let it go to voicemail before he decided he didn’t want to deal with her in person.

���What do you want, Nemuri?” Shouta answered, pushing himself up from where he had been working at the kotatsu for the past few hours. It was really showing he hadn’t moved in a while, he mused.

“I thought you said Present Mic wasn’t a vigilante?” Right. Joke had been talking about a fight that Present Mic had showed up to help out on.

“He wasn’t last time I saw him. What happened?” Shouta shuffled to the kitchen, smiling softly as he deftly avoided Jelly’s playful jumps and nudges against his ankles.

“Joke and that new sidekick of hers, Bullseye, were having some problems with a mutation quirk villain. Some sort of large animal with a lot of teeth and not that good at laughing.”

“Not good for Joke,” Shouta muttered, frowning as he checked his coffee pot, wrinkling his nose at the cold dregs left behind. He’d need to brew some more.

“No, not good for Joke. They were waiting for backup when your vigilante came on the scene and took care of the guy. Five minutes and he was down.”

“Sounds about right. Why are you calling me, then?” Flicking his phone to be on speaker, Shouta started a fresh pot, eying Jelly’s food bowl. He could probably give her at least another half scoop for the night.

“Because you said he was still a villain last time we talked!” Snorting at that, Shouta picked his phone back up, collapsing at the kitchen table.

“He probably still thinks he is.” Really, though… Yamada hadn’t been a villain for a very long time. After their talk the other night at the man’s apartment, Shouta was almost certain that Yamada had never been a villain. He was far too kind for that.

“He keeps saving people! That’s the opposite of a villain!” Stifling a laugh against his fist, Shouta listened to Nemuri’s ranting and complaining as he kept an ear out for the quiet sounds of a happy cat and a brewing coffee pot and thought about the ‘villain’ that was Present Mic, or, rather, the hero that was Present Mic. Shouta had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last they heard of the new vigilante and hero.

Two weeks later proved him more right than he was expecting. In two weeks Present Mic had teamed up with Nemuri for a raid that had gotten out of control, aided Kamui Woods with a building evacuation during a fire, bonded scarily well with Mt. Lady during a bomb threat, and had even managed to work together with Endeavour of all people. Although, Shouta had heard from Nemuri that Endeavour's ears had been ringing for a few days afterwards.

All in all, Present Mic was finally making an impact like he had wanted to, turning the spotlight on him and making sure the media, and by extension their world of heroes and villains, knew just who he was. And yet, here he was, hiding away on the top of a roof like he was scared of being seen.

Landing on the edge of the roof lightly, Shouta hid a sigh in the wraps of his binding cloth as he stepped forward, letting his footsteps be heard. He knew Yamada knew it was him when the man didn’t even tense or look back. Not sure what to say, Shouta finally settled on something that he at least knew would get a response. “How goes the day, hero?”

The laugh was dry and brittle, an inch away from snapping as much as Yamada was. The man still responded, though, tilting his head to look back at him, “Shouldn’t it be night?”

“Probably,” Shouta said softly as he gave a twitch of a smile at Yamada before moving to take a seat beside him, still marveling on how a man as loud and outspoken as Present Mic had such a common name. Then again, after speaking with him in his civilian life, he supposed it made more sense. Yamada Hizashi seemed scared to speak louder than a whisper. “You know, typically heroes stick around to do the paperwork that comes with the work you’ve been doing.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not a hero, then.” The words were clipped, short, and to the point. Shouta believed them as much as Yamada seemed to. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m not changing my mind. I’m not… I’m not some hero.”

“No,” Shouta finally sighed, looking down over the city that spread out around them. From the building they were on it felt like they could see their entire world awash in cool blacks and bright neon lights. “You’re not.” Shouta hated how, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yamada relax. “But you could be.”

For once, Yamada didn’t have a quick response or a sharp denial ready. Instead he looked towards the night sky, hints of stars just barely peeking past the light pollution of the night. Silence settled around them, but Shouta noticed it wasn’t a comfortable silence. It wasn’t upsetting, to any degree, but… there was tension.

Shouta finally sighed, fingertips curling around the sleeve edge of Yamada’s leather jacket, giving it a light tug. The man didn’t move, but Shouta knew he had his attention as he asked, “What are you doing, Mic?”

“I… thought I could help. People, good people, were at the risk of getting hurt on all those occasions. I thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe I could at least make sure no one died. I thought I could help-”

“You did help.” Did he really not see that? After all of this, did he really not see that he was doing good? “Joke told me how you helped her and her new sidekick. It could have been a lot worse. Nemuri won’t stop bugging me to get your phone number for her, half the other pros thought you were a new hero, and Endeavour is still absolutely pissed - which, if you ask me, is always the mark of a good hero.”

His last line, just like he had hoped, had Yamada giving a startled laugh. Tension seemed to drain out of both of them, Shouta feeling a shoulder press against his own. He didn’t move away. Instead, he sat calmly, relaxing at the swath of warmth until he heard Yamada suck in a shaking breath, “I’m supposed to be the villain, Eraser.” Eraser? Ah, right. Yamada didn’t know that Shouta knew who he was - both parts of him.

“Is that what you really think? Or is that what you’ve been told to think?” Because Shouta had a theory that Yamada wasn’t a villain by choice. He had started all of this to help people in his own way, after all. A man like that could never be a villain. “You keep saying your quirk was dangerous… Who told you that?”

Just as he suspected. Yamada was tense against his side once more, wound up and tightly coiled as if ready to cut his losses and run. It was almost cute that Yamada thought Shouta would ever let him leave. Maybe that wasn’t the right question to ask, though. Maybe the better question…

“Why have you been helping the pros, Mic?” If he was so dead set on being a villain, why help? “A villain would have taken advantage and taken them all down. You stopped and helped. Why?”

It felt like an eternity, but finally, finally, Yamada let out a shaking, wobbling sigh. It was a sound that was a step above a sob and Shouta wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he wanted nothing more than to draw Yamada over and hug him. He was getting too soft.

“Mic.” Biting his lip, Shouta pushed his embarrassment aside and slowly moved a hand up, freezing for a few seconds before setting his fingertips against Yamada’s cheek and carefully pressing until he had the man finally looking at him. Yamada looked like he was shaking to pieces and Shouta didn’t stop to think before he pressed his palm against Yamada’s cheek, thumb rubbing against soft, smooth skin. “Why are you helping, Mic?”

There was a single moment where Shouta thought Yamada would jerk away and bolt. That moment passed, however, and Shouta shivered as he felt Yamada completely relax and lean into his touch as if he was starved for it. Distracted as he was, Shouta almost missed the words Mic said next.

“Someone important to me told me that I could be a hero.” The words were whisper soft - a secret that he knew Shouta would protect. “I think he might have been right.”

                                                          ::

Shouta had never lied. He knew that Yamada Hizashi could be a great hero, but that didn’t mean he could ignore the truth. Yamada had grown up on rough streets and knew how to fight both with and without his quirk - which was powerful on its own. He hadn’t been trained as a pro, though.

There were some pros that didn’t go to a school specialized in hero training, yes, but that meant they usually served out internships and acted as sidekicks until they had the knowledge and experience they needed to go forward. Some sidekicks spent over a decade learning from pros, and even a new pro had the force of an agency behind them. Hell, Shouta himself worked for an agency and he was underground.

Yamada had none of that. He had no idea what the common strategies or signals were, he had never been trained to keep calm in mentally taxing situations, and he no doubt had only ever interacted with panicking civilians briefly. There was also the fact that he had never been trained to deal with real villains.

Present Mic fought thugs and gangs and kept the streets safer, but he didn’t deal with smuggling rings, quirk black markets, and hostage threats. Present Mic should never have been near a raid for an underground market that dealt in trading children with promising and powerful quirks. It was too dangerous - for him and everyone else involved in the scene.

It was all well and good to call him a hero, but that did not make him a pro. At best he was a vigilante and at worst he was an idiot who was trying to get himself killed.

“Mic!” The busy and upscale neighborhood (which hadn’t that been terrifying to know this was all taking place in somewhere considered safe) was filled with nosy civilians, handcuffed villains, crying and screaming children, and the wailing of sirens. Shouta could barely hear himself think in the mess, but he knew Yamada could hear him. Yamada always heard him. “You are not just walking off after all of that! You can barely walk!”

This raid had been dangerous from the start, but, as was the case these days, they had underestimated their opponents. While all the children had been rescued and were still alive and breathing, Yamada and half of the smugglers had almost died when the man had brought down the building to keep them from escaping. Shouta himself had barely gotten out and it had taken over an hour to dig everyone out. Yamada had been lucky that he was still alive!

“You could’ve died from a stunt like that! Are you even listening to me?!” Yamada was bruised, bleeding, and limping, his glasses having been cracked during the initial crumbling of the building.

“So what if I die? You wouldn’t care. I’m a villain - and a piss poor one at that.” Yamada had spun around to meet his approach, fist clenched around his broken sunglasses as he stared at Shouta with tear-filled eyes. Shouta wasn’t sure if it was the tears that made it feel like the breath was knocked out of him or the fact that Yamada had just said those words so casually. No… he had said them so bitterly. “I give it my all and you still hate me!”

Shouta had failed. If Yamada thought that he hated him after all that had happened, then he had well and truly failed in everything. Yamada looked close to even more tears, voice sounding so defeated as he muttered, “At least let me sulk in peace.”

Shouta was moving before he was even fully aware of it, catching Yamada by the lapels of that stupid leather jacket of his and tugging him close and keeping him from running away. His fingers had gone white with how tight his grip was, but he paid it no mind, instead entirely wrapped up in how their foreheads bumped together, Shouta hearing the hitch in Yamada’s breaths as he slammed his eyes shut, unwilling or unable to meet Shouta’s own gaze. It hurt more than he thought it would. There were a million words he could say, but words had never been Shouta’s strong point, and all he could get out was, “I don’t hate you.”

“So what is it?” Yamada was quick with words like always, but his voice shook as if expecting the fall that was about to come. “What’s wrong with me?” Shouta was so tired of Yamada thinking he was worthless. He was tired of Yamada thinking that Shouta would ever let him fall. “Why all the rejections?”

Shouta was bad with words. He always had been. There had been a hundred situations where Shouta had destroyed or ruined something because he had said the wrong words. He was determined to not let that happen with this man. So instead of words that would fumble and fall flat, Shouta tightened his grip on Yamada’s jacket before pushing himself forward, lips slotting themselves against ones that were chapped and dry. The silly man probably bit his lip every moment he grew nervous.

For a moment the lips against his were still and unmoving and Shouta felt his heart drop. There was no way he had read all of this wrong. Present Mic had flirted from the start, but Yamada Hizashi had stared at him with eyes that were filled with the same emotion Shouta had constantly been feeling around him.

When he felt hands curl into his jumpsuit and pull him closer, lips pressing hard and messy against his, Shouta realized he shouldn’t have even bothered to worry.

Pulling back, because even a moment like this needed a few words, Shouta bit his lip as he looked at Yamada’s face, still bruised and dirty from the raid, but flushed with pink and holding wide green eyes that practically shone.

“If I hated you,” Shouta near whispered, “I wouldn’t have bothered putting up with all of your stupid hijinks.”

“Oh!” The exclamation was quirk strong, Shouta not giving Yamada the chance to apologize before he was pressing forward again, lips finding Yamada’s as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Yamada didn’t hesitate, this time.

Shouta would be lying if he said he hadn’t pictured this moment before. He tried not to, but when the thoughts slipped in they usually revolved around adrenaline and something fast and rough and more about actions than words. This… wasn’t.

The kiss stayed hard for only a moment before Shouta felt hands cupping his cheeks, calloused fingers resting against him and a rough thumb pressing into the scar under his eye, dragging against it like he had after the USJ incident.

Shouta wanted to know those hands. He wanted to know each dip and curve and he wanted to know what had caused each scar and callous. Shouta could spend hours kissing his way across each inch of skin, giving the man all the contact and attention he had so obviously been starved of.

He had to have been starved of touch. It was in the way Yamada clung to him like he was afraid Shouta would pull away and never return. It was in how he pushed forward with the same amount of force he pushed back, arching into the hand that Shouta had pressed against the back of his head, keeping him close.

It wasn’t rough and fast and hard, though. It may have started like that, but Shouta was becoming lost far too quickly as Yamada curled into him like he belonged there, lips moving slowly and assuredly against his, a hint of teeth pressing against his own lower lip that had Shouta shivering and fighting back any sort of noise. Yamada didn’t have the same concern, a low, soft moan leaving him when Shouta’s fingers dug against the man’s scalp.

Slowly remembering that they were in the middle of a raid scene and they were both sore and injured, Shouta carefully pulled back, almost going right back when he saw Yamada staring at him with a flushed and dazed expression.

“Come on, hero,” Shouta mumbled, indulging enough to let himself press his lips to the edge of Yamada’s jaw, skin smooth and soft as he returned the favor from so long ago and flicked at the skin with the tip of his tongue. The noise Yamada gave had Shouta swallowing roughly as he pulled away again. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“Promise not to let go?” Yamada’s voice was rough and low and nothing at all like the smooth, high tones he had as Present Mic. It had Shouta tightening his grip more than he thought possible.

“I won’t.”

                                                           ::

“How hard would it be to have an adult get a pro hero license?” Shouta kept his expression perfectly blank and even, laid back as ever as he watched Nemuri cycle through at least eight different expressions in the middle of the staff room. When her face finally settled on a sharp smirk, though, Shouta wondered how fast he could get away.

“This is for Present Mic, I take it?” Nemuri’s voice was a purr and Shouta hated her. He still gave a single, sharp nod, however. “Well, well, it looks like my little Shou-chan finally found love! Ah, they grow up so fast!”

Shouta kept silent and, by the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Nemuri was staring at him with sharp, narrowed eyes. Shouta stared back evenly, trying not to show any fear. She could no doubt sense it.

“Shou-chan,” Nemuri cooed, voice light and sweet and containing all the horrors of the world. “When I said you found love, that’s usually when you correct me and tell me how wrong I am.” Right. There were many ways to do this.

“There’s no use in correcting you when you aren’t wrong.” In hindsight, Shouta should have expected the squeal. “Are you going to help me with this or not?”

“Of course I am!” As usual, Nemuri didn’t seem put off by his sharp voice and sharper glare at all. “Oh you’ll have to tell me all about it. Did you two finally admit to your feelings?”

“Sure.” In truth, there hadn’t been much time. The raid had been a few nights ago and Yamada had been absolutely exhausted after having an EMT on the scene use a minor healing quirk on the worst of his injuries. Shouta had followed to make sure he got home alright, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk about… what had happened. Yamada had whispered that he would see him soon, though, before leaving, and that was more than enough. “Here’s the paperwork I’ve managed to gather so far.”

“You can leave it all to me, Shou-chan!” Nemuri grabbed the paperwork, near spinning in circles she looked so happy. Shouta had the urge to tie her up and shove her away in a closet for a few days. “I’ve witnessed a true miracle! Not only is my sweet Shouta in love, but his feelings are returned!”

“You’re lucky I still need you alive.” Shouta hated to admit it, but Nemuri was far better with loopholes and paperwork than he was. Besides, this was important. He wanted to have all the paperwork ready when he finally sat Yamada down and truly talked to him about all of this. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have things to do.”

“Right, right, go train your secret love child,” Nemuri waved off, suddenly pausing and going completely still. Shouta was already reaching for his binding cloth as Nemuri looked at him with wide eyes. “Does Mic know you have a son?”

“I am going to skin you alive and feed you to my cat,” Shouta hissed, refusing to admit any heat in his cheeks. “I do not have a son.”

“Yet.” Turning on his heel, he decided that ignoring Nemuri was the best thing he could do. “Boo, no fun. I’ll get the paperwork to you later!”

Pausing at the door, Shouta glanced back and gave a small nod before deciding that he could be cruel, too. “Mic and Shinsou have already met. He seemed delighted that I ‘had a son.’” With that, Shouta left the lounge and closed the door, smiling a little to himself as Nemuri’s pleas and whines for more information.

Heading to the indoor gym he had been spending most of his afternoons in, Shouta peeked his head in and smiled to himself as he saw Shinsou going through his warm-up routine, focused intently as he moved through his stretches. The kid had come far since that first fight in the festival and Shouta knew without a doubt that he would make it into the hero course.

“I know you’re there, Sensei.” Kid was getting more observational, too. Shouta hated how stupidly proud that made him. “It’s creepy when you just watch, you know.”

“It’s my job to watch.” Striding into the room and over to his student, Shouta helped him to his feet, noticing the look. “You have two minutes.” It had taken months to get Shinsou relaxed enough to talk with him honestly and openly. It had then taken a few minutes to realize he had made a horrible mistake. Once Shinsou was comfortable enough to talk, he didn’t stop. Shouta almost wanted to throw him in a room with Yamada and see which one ran out of words first.

“The new hero Present Mic, huh?” Shinsou had a large grin on his face, Shouta placing a hand on the teen’s head and gently tipping his head down towards the ground. All it did was cause laughter. “Is he still saying he’s a villain?”

“Not for much longer.” Not if Shouta had anything to say about it, at least. “He was never much of a villain to begin with, anyways.”

“I thought he was that night when I first met him.” Oh? That was news to him. “He came striding in like he was one of them and the guys who had me cornered started talking about how he was always fighting against Eraserhead.”

“Well, they weren’t wrong,” Shouta snorted, nudging Shinsou along. “Come on. Second set of stretches.”

“I don’t think I was afraid of him even when I heard that, though.” Shinsou kept talking even as he began the next set of stretches, Shouta shucking off his capture weapon and joining him. “He was glaring, but he was glaring at the one that was holding that muzzle-”

“Muzzle?” Shouta stumbled out of his own stretch, eyes snapping to Shinsou. He silently conceded to Nemuri that he might have grown a touch attached when he had the immediate urge to check the kid over and make sure he was alright after an event that had happened months ago.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you that part?” Shinsou blinked, looking entirely nonplussed. “They were talking about how I’d fetch a nice price.” The fact he could say that with such a detached tone had Shouta feeling even more worry. He didn’t much like it. “He played them all, though. Present Mic.”

“Let me guess. He got rid of the muzzle and then screamed at them until they passed out?” Because he remembered the state those men had been in when Shouta had come across the scene.

“He took the muzzle and fooled them into thinking that he was helping and that he was going to put it on me himself,” Shinsou recounted, tongue poking out as he focused on a pose he always had problems with. Shouta was nudging him into the correct position almost absently, Shinsou flashing him a smile. “He had them all fooled even as he dropped that muzzle and put his headphones on me instead.”

“That sounds like him,” Shouta snorted, remembering that night clearly, now, and how Yamada had been without his headphones when Shouta had found him. “He’s not all that intimidating once you see that stupid smile of his.”

“Yeah. He had me hide behind the dumpster and reassured me the whole time. He made it seem like he was on their side right until he took them down.” Shinsou stood up from his stretch, entering a more relaxed one as he stretched his arms up, a small crack coming from his back. “He’s a pretty amazing hero when you think about it.”

“Vigilante, you mean?” Shouta glanced down to see Shinsou’s smile, wide and honest as he shook his head.

“No. I meant hero.” Shinsou laughed as Shouta rolled his eyes, fighting to hide a smile. Shinsou was right, though. Yamada truly was an amazing hero. A hero that… deserved to know the truth.

Next time. Next time they spoke, Shouta would tell Present Mic he knew exactly who he was and he and Yamada Hizashi could sit down and figure things out. It wasn’t going to be easy - not by any stretch of the imagination - but Shouta had a good feeling about where it was going to go from here.

It was time for Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi to be more than just Eraserhead and Present Mic.