#yes i know 'food waste is bad so i must eat this thing i hate' is stupid reasoning but i'm not gonna stop doing it

[hylianengineer]

After having been a vegetarian on and off for six years, I keep trying to eat meat again and discovering that I hate it. It's not that I want to be a full-time omnivore again, but when you have multiple other major food restrictions that you don't get to choose, some flexibility is required. I usually eat meat when I travel because there are simply no gluten-free, dairy-free options which are also vegetarian in most places - and if I eat gluten or dairy, I will suffer.

But I still don't like meat. It makes my sensory issues complain at me. Why is it so... Slimy. Stringy. Like That. And why is it so much harder to make myself eat it now than it was when I was a kid? I guess I've gotten out of the habit. I am now torn between the desire to have more food options and the desire to respect my sensory issues when they say 'we don't like that.' I need to be able to tolerate meat sometimes so I can travel and not starve. But also, I don't like it.

I keep thinking if I just get the right kind of meat it'll stop being unpleasant but that is not really working. Chicken? Yucky. Beef? Worse. Pork? It's always been my least favorite; the texture is urgh. Fish? I used to love it as a kid but now I don't like this either. Venison? Leaves a weird dry sticky feeling on the roof of my mouth. Heavily processed stuff is the most tolerable, and yet also the most ethically and nutritionally objectionable.

Maybe I just need to stop and not eat meat unless there is no other option. I keep buying it to try to get used to it again and then having to force myself to eat it because food waste is bad, but I just don't like it.

[blissxjj]

Hashira's reaction to the silent treatment.

Featuring: Giyu/Kyojiro

SFW

Giyu

Arguments with Giyu are not very common, because he is not very talkative nor argumentative and you being the chill person you are, you always let things go and Giyu does the same, so when arguments do happen and you get caught up in one, it usually ends with the both of you not talking to one another.

Yes yes, very immature but you two need to get away before your tongue slips and you say something you can't take back, Giyu avoids you by training more often and going on missions until he feels like the argument is old news now and things should go back to what they were in the first place.

Wrong!

Your silent treatments are the worst, you don't speak, you don't move, you don't breathe! near that man until he apologizes for the argument. Poor Giyu keeps talking to you and you ignore him and walk away, you make his social anxiety worst.

But of course your hearts forgive him eventually and you go and apologize to him for being too harsh even tho the argument wasn't entirely his fault, Giyu nods and just stiffs up like a tree near you, until you tell him to leave the argument behind, it was stupid anyways so why bother?

"Are you sure you are not mad at me anymore?...no?... Alright then"

Kyojiro

You both do your best to resolve arguments as soon as they happen and Kyojiro has this habit of dismissing small arguments, saying that those don't matter and they are a waste of time and you should argue over little things, it mostly works and you go back to laughing and talking like nothing happened.

But sometimes it infuriates you to be dismissed by him every time, arguments need to happen in order to fix issues and resolve problems, and most importantly speak your mind, but if you keep being dismissed like that, those feelings and arguments pile up into a huge fight that leads both of you to stop talking to one another.

You stop talking and eating together, definitely no hugs or kisses, no eye contact, and worst of all you move away to the couch in the living room, Kyojiro would sigh and sit on your shared bed and glance at you now empty, cold side and think of you and how much you must hate him for the fight earlier, Kyojiro would try to focus on sleeping if that's possible, you are feeling the same too, eyes wide open as you play the fight back in your head and think of how to make it up to Kyojiro tomorrow.

Deep inside you both feel bad about it and want to apologize but you don't know what to say or how to say it, Kyojiro is the first to come to you when you are laying on the couch and silently offer you food which always leads to you talking over dinner about your differences and resolving the issue.

"I am sorry, i never meant to make you feel unheard and just never wanted to argue with you, but here we are"

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 17 of Harrow the Ninth

Was also originally going to put this one together with Chapter 16, but again, it got long. There's way more to think about, and way more that's being obscured in this book than in Gideon the Ninth

This is funny coming after them all being upset about forgetting Cytherea's House name

Does "our holy resurrections" refer to them becoming Lyctors? Like, presumably if Augustine and Mercy were the very first people in their Houses they might have actually been part of the original resurrection, but it sounds like Cytherea was probably just born the usual way long after that

You know, it's funny, I noted it in the Dramatis Personae, but I actually forgot until now that Mercy was the Eighth House Lyctor. It's funny that there were two Lyctors who were experts on spirit magic (Augustine and Cassiopeia, if I understand the last chapter correctly) and neither of them was from the House that specifically specializes in spirit magic. Meanwhile, the founding member of the Eighth House specializes in having a very exacting knowledge of physical anatomy

So, I guess by this scheme, Ianthe is like, the Saint of Duels or something, and Harrow thinks she is the Saint of Epic Poetry but is actually the Saint of Bad Jokes and Titty Mags

It's kind of funny that John was completely wrong about how Mercy and Augustine would react to being asked about Cristabel. I wonder if there was something more complicated going on with her, or if John just has a really bad memory, like on the order of my grandfather remembering that my mother had a special relationship with peanuts, but incorrectly thought it must have been that she loved peanuts instead of the reality that she was deathly allergic to peanuts, and therefore sent us a giant thing of peanut brittle every Christmas that had to be handled like it was nuclear waste

Although, on second look, Mercy's reaction sort of seems sort of like maybe Cristabel meant a lot to her and she's just unhappy about talking about her with Harrow because she doesn't like Harrow and doesn't think Harrow is worthy of being part of a discussion about her. And Augustine does say she was "a delight" but he also says

so possibly the first part was sarcastic, or this is just Augustine's general fake affect that was mentioned in the last chapter

Yes, not being able to cook is infinitely more disabling when you don't even know what pasta is. Is this Harrow's issue with cooking, then, that she just doesn't know anything about the food the most people eat in places that don't have constant food shortages?

This is very interesting. Has Mercy killed a Lyctor, or planned to kill a Lyctor, or this just Augustine opportunistically saying something nasty about Mercy?

She says this, even though literally everyone on the Mithraeum hates her to some degree except maybe John, they complain about having to associate with her or help her and talk about how she's broken, and they all think she is going to die and none of them care. I guess from her perspective this is not actually worse than being constantly told about how she is 200 dead children, not to mention being told by her parents to commit suicide

Dying to know why this is. I mean, I guess he might be weirded out that she calls him Ortus and not Gideon, but other than that, why would he want to kill her? So far the only thing he's done on screen was tell John about Number Seven and agree to stay and fight it based on John's decision. Does he think she will endanger them in the fight, or something?

I seem to recall that John and Mercy had some thought that Gideon the First would be interested in some recent happenings in the Nine Houses, or something that was part of the BOE war back on the shuttle. Along the same lines that the Body may have been worried that Mercy would connect Harrow with Gideon's mom, is the recent event that Gideon the First would be interested in actually Gideon Nav's mom crashlanding on Pluto? In which case, does he think that Harrow maybe had something to do with that? Only, I think whatever it is that Mercy and John were discussing, it sounds like they haven't actually shared that news with Gideon the First, or at least hadn't at the time they were on the shuttle

[themusesof75]

Romance Rectangle

Read at your own Risk

Cleo: You're a royally good monster, and I consider you my friend. You should get what you want.

Clawdeen: Thank you, Cleo. But you and Deuce....

Cleo: Are ancient history. He wants to date you and I want you to date him. I want the monsters I care for to be happy.

Clawdeen: You're secretly a very generous princess.

Cleo: Not so loud, there are ears in the walls. Spectra, I can hear you recording our conversation!

The purple ghost poked her head out of the portrait of the retired teacher, "I am not."

...

Lagoona opens her webbed hands to hug Draculaura.

Draculaura sneers to show her fangs.

Lagoona giggles: cute.

Lagoona opens her rows of razor-sharp teeth with a growl.

Draculaura blinks: Respect. Cute shorts.

Lagoona: Dios Mio, thank you, I love your fishnets.

Frankie: Hi new friend.

Lagoona, Draculaura, Frankie and Cleo laugh over the mess of pizza toppings; fingers trying to crawl away, green bubbles stinking of waste, and no one remembered who thought pineapples were a good idea!

Draculaura: You know I tried garlic once. I actually liked it, before my throat closed up and my skin flaked.

Lagoona: Uggh, I hate flaky skin. I got this moisturizer called Sköll & Coconut. 

Draculaura: That is the only thing that soothes my wings in the summer!

Frankie: Cleo, your earrings look so heavy. You must have strong ears.

Cleo: Okay... Let me do your makeup.

Frankie: Yes, please!

Cleo: Do all non-binary monsters wear makeup?

Frankie: Depends if they like to. I know I do.

Cleo: Hmm. Usually, monsters with too much pep are hiding something, but you're incredibly sincere.

Frankie: You can be really mean, but you can also be really perceptive. 

...

Clawdeen and Deuce sat together in the common-room couch.

Clawdeen: How often did you try to go out with humans?

Deuce: One time when I was nine, I was in Greece, on my way to the family's private island. We took a route through the human's part of the city, I got separated cause I was a kid and I liked walking away. Met some human kids kicking a soccer ball, it was fun, I was getting short of breathe so I took off my beanie so these guys could breathe. You know what they say about sticks and stones?

Clawdeen: They called you names? 

Deuce: Yeah, as they started throwing sticks and stones. And then I turned them into stones.

Clawdeen: Woof. I was at a birthday party when I was a little and had a loose tooth, I could've pulled it out I found out later, but instead puppy Clawdeen chewed on the birthday girl's playhouse. And the magician's rabbit.

Deuce laughed.

Clawdeen: Glad we can laugh about that now.

Deuce: Ghoul, you're going to find a pack and chow down better than ever.

Clawdeen: Yeah, Cleo knows people-err- other werewolves and we're meeting up next weekend.

Deuce: You and Cleo are hanging out. Cool.

...

Deuce: I need a favor.

Cleo: Normally I'd say 'get in line', but go on.

Deuce: Cleo, I need you to only talk about my good qualities. To Clawdeen.

Cleo: What are the bad qualities, Deuce? How you eat with all your mouths open? How you use to pronoun silent Ps? The embarrassing face you make when you're about to-

Deuce: Gods, Cleo, please.

Cleo: You're blushing! You really like her. Cute. I can be discreet.

Deuce: Thank you, all I ask.

Cleo: And let me tell you what you should do instead-

Deuce: I didn't ask-

Cleo: No, listen, I know what she likes to talk about, what music, what food. Oh! Take her to that barbeque place I hated! She'll like the size of the ribs.

Deuce: Wow, you are a good wingman.

Cleo: I know.

...

Draculaura watched Lagoona pound the raw steak with her fists.

Draculaura: I'll repaint your nails when you're done.

Lagoona: Thanks. I keep a lot of remover in the cabinet. I like trying new acrylics I see on Creep-Tok.

Draculaura: I've seen your feed. I'm impressed with the videos where you play two monsters talking to each other.

Lagoona giggled: Fish back home wouldn't act for me so I had to do it myself. But who care, no big deal. They didn't understand why I wanted to come up here, but the gadgets and gizmos up here are great for my film ideas!

Draculaura: I'm pretty good at effects, just don't ask what my secret is.

Lagoona: Tell me what your secret is.

Draculaura: I'm studying witchcraft and I know a spell to add sparkles and filters in real unlife.

Lagoona blinked and slapped Draculaura's arm: Chica, you had me there!

Dracualura: Yeah, I'm a human-mob-riot. So, when can we put this on the skillet?

Lagoona: We let it marinate for an hour, or we forget it in the mini-fridge and cook it tomorrow?

Draculaura: I wanna show you Elissabat boovies. Most monsters don't like black-and-white films but I think you'll appreciate the old-crypt effects.

...

Frankie and Clawdeen hit the eyeball with their tennis rackets.

Frankie: And then, Cleo showed me photos of when she went to Scaris. She's always going to museums, and she's seen so many documentaries! We watched one and it was so depressing my soul will never recover but now I'm inspired to become a doctor in a cave, too!

Clawdeen: Who knew you could be pretty, rich and substantial?

Frankie: Still blood rivers run deep. Under her wraps there are layers to a complicated, fiery, surprisingly sweet ghoul.

Clawdeen shined a goofy knowing smile.

Frankie smiled: What's that smile? It's like your teeth have a secret.

Clawdeen: You sound like you're catching feelings for the Princess of Monster High.

Frankie blushed and kept smiling: Maybe I am. This feels exciting, like moths bursting out their cocoons in my stomachs.

Clawdeen: You have multiple stomachs?

Frankie: Yep, I can show you later.

...

Cleo: It is amazing you'd finished all these books.

Frankie: It's not amazing, they're really easy reads.

Cleo picked up a book about astrophysics. 

Cleo: No, your brain is a treasure trove. And I know treasure.

Frankie: Thanks for saying that but knowing how to build a rocket doesn't help me talk to other monsters.

Cleo: Frankie, have you considered you're not saying the wrong thing but picking stupid randos to talk to?

Frankie: I don't really know the difference. Everyone is new to me.

Cleo: Give that time. Isis knows I've had centuries and still don't know how to treat monsters I care about.

Frankie: No offense, but that is really stupid of you to say. You're a wonderful friend to all of us. You're even a good friend to your ex who was insane to breakup with you.

Cleo sighed: He wasn't totally insane. Could I confide in you why we broke up?

Frankie nodded.

Cleo: Well, the school's Casketball teams plays rival to this pretentious all-vamp-prep school. The captain was talking smack about our mixed species team, and as Fearleading captain I would not let that stand. Since I'm not allowed to bury monsters here, Deuce and I played a prank on their team. The prank went wrong, and a few leeches got badly sunburnt. The headmistress was talking about suspension, and my pharaoh father would've locked me under the pyramid if he heard I was involved. I let Deuce take the whole wrap. He missed a week. The ironic part is I loved him even more for the same reason he hates me now.

Frankie wiped the tear off Cleo's running mascary.

Frankie: You're even prettier when you tell your sad story.

Cleo: Do you think I'm the worse person in history?

Frankie: I think you have competition with dictators, CEOs and clowns.

Cleo laughed.

...

Lagoona and Cleo watch a long, sad romantic tramedy.

Cleo: She really should go with the autistic doctor, they understand her in a way the hunky, angsty garbage-man never did.

Lagoona: If the doctor doesn't take the trip to the moon, then sure. I think I'm catching feelings for Draca-cutie. 

Cleo: Really? She's so cold, even for the undead.

Lagoona: Under that scowl there's a poet, a dreamer, and when I bite her neck, she doesn't ask me to stop. She's a wave of freshness.

Cleo squealed: Ghoul! Your scales are sparkling! I am so happy for you, and you know I have to grill the fruit-bat.

...

Draculaura, Clawdeen and Frankie share their groanwork.

Draculaura: Lagoona is obsessed with me! She keeps sending me bikini photos, liking my posts, texting me every thought in her rainbow head.

Frankie: Oh my Bolts! If you date Cleo's beastie, then when I ask out Cleo when can go on double-dates! Do you like riding unicorns?

Draculaura bites her lip: I don't think I like Lagoona like that. She's cute and fun to fang out with, but I don't miss her when I don't see her.

Clawdeen's ears drooped: I think I get what you mean. Deuce is funny and honest and has made me feel full-moon-good about myself. But I can say the same thing about you ghouls, and I don't wanna kiss either of you.

Draculaura scoffed, Frankie shrugged.

Frankie: Well, I do miss Cleo when we're not together. I feel sparks, like new sparks, when I'm in the same room as her. I believe she feels the same way.

...

Deuce and Clawdeen walk with their cones of eye-scream in the Monster High fields.

Clawdeen tries to think of the right way to tell Deuce she doesn't want to date him. Deuce's snakes eat his eye-scream whole, then they steal Clawdeen's. She laughs while the little tongues lick her claws. Deuce puts his hands on Clawdeen's hips, his eyes meet hers, her smile is shy but her nod says yes. They kiss.

Clawdeen: Huh. Too bad.

Deuce: Okay. Glad to know. Congrats. 

...

Deuce: Clawdeen is a lesbian. 

Cleo: Just because she doesn't want to date you? You of all monsters should recognize bi-erasure.

Deuce: Yeah, I know better. When I kissed that dude Freddie, there were stars in my eyes. When I kissed you, there were fireworks.

Cleo: Of course there were.

Deuce: When I kissed Clawdeen, she was disappointed.

Cleo: Pity. How will someone so gorgeous move on from this hurt?

Deuce: That wolf's got as much honor as she does curls, I'm not worried about her.

Cleo: I was talking about you, Deuce. I'm not worried about you moving on.

Deuce: Thanks. You know, Cleo-

Cleo: I've even found someone new! Frankie!

Deuce: Oh... You and her?

Cleo: Respect nonbinary pronouns.

Deuce: Sorry, you and them? But Frankie is so ...innocent and you're... not.

Cleo: They're so much more.

...

Draculaura hung upside down in her dormroom.

Clawdeen: Whatcha thinking about?

Draculaura: I'm feeling a little guilty about hurting Lagoona.

Clawdeen: You respected her enough to be honest with her. It's better for her.

Draculaura: I think the truth is overrated. I lie about my witchcraft to my father, my coven, so they will stay proud of me. 

Clawdeen: That's complicated. But I can't imagine your family rejecting you for anything. I think how you're learning magic is crazy smart. And it really goes with your effortless elegance thing.

Dracualura chuckles: You think I'm elegant?

Clawdeen: Obviously. 

Draculaura: Clawdeen, you're got something on your nose. Come here.

Clawdeen stepped closer to her hanging friend. Before the werewolf asked what the vampire saw, Draculaura took her chin and pulled Clawdeen into a soft kiss.

Clawdeen: Wow. 

Draculaura: Yeah. I miss you even in the short times you're gone.

...

Lagoona cried on Cleo's shoulder.

Cleo: Dracu-slut-bag couldn't wait a day before walking hand and paw with Clawdeen?!

Frankie: Cleo, I'd appreciate you not calling my friend such an ugly name.

Cleo: Lagoona is humiliated and floundering, your friends will face my fury.

Frankie: Lagoona, I am sorry for your heart, but please know it wasn't personal. And Cleo, please say you didn't mean what you just said.

Cleo: You know I speak my truth.

Frankie: I know you're hot-blooded and sometimes speak without thinking, so I'm giving you the benefit of my doubt.

Cleo: Do not doubt I will avenge this Angelfish's heart. Frankie, you are with us or against me.

From down the hall, Draculaura and Clawdeen held hands. Deuce stood next to them.

Deuce: I can't tell if I'm falling for softer Cleo or if I'm just jealous of Frankie.

Draculaura: I'm not rooting for you on either account. However, I do want my friend to be happy. 

Clawdeen: Love is complicated.

[creambunnie]

Unexpectedly Expected

NCT Dream - Jaemin X Reader (Y/N)

Fluff Angst , Enemies to Lovers

Enjoy~

Jaemin smirked the moment he entered the lecture hall. why? because he saw your annoyed expression.

out of all lecturers and timings, why must the both of you telepathically choose the exact same ones?

no. you bet Jaemin was stalking you somehow. scary.

you rolled your eyes before resuming to read your newly bought book. Jaemin walked over to your seat and leaned down to your ear.

"i guess fate always bring us together, huh".

you quickly turned your face away from him. he was too close that you could smell his minty breath.

"it's only 9 in the morning, Na."

yes, you only called Jaemin by his surname. calling him 'Jaemin' seemed like you both were close to each other. in fact, it was the opposite.

you and Jaemin enrolled in the same university majoring in the same course at the same time. your first meeting was the first years orientation.

at first, the both of you wanted to befriend each other, however, as you spent your time together, the both of you realised that you were either too similar to each other or that you had totally different opinions on things.

basically, the both of you were incompatible. you would always end up bickering with each other. hence, you and Jaemin became 'enemies' for almost three years now.

"oh why won't you call me Jaemin, my dearest y/n?"

one thing you hated the most is that he LOVES to annoy you. you ignored his question and focused back on your book. Jaemin chuckled and went to the seat at the back of the hall.

class ended smoothly. it was only the first class of the semester so there was not much to worry about. you packed your bag and quickly went out to go to your next class.

Jaemin was already outside of the hall. he was resting his arm above a girl's head as they flirted with each other, as if there was no one around them. you rolled your eyes at the scene before turning the corner. Jaemin saw you leave the class and quickly chased after you.

"hey y/n, since there will be group works, let's be groupmates!"

you kept quiet and continued walking. Jaemin chuckled before hooking his finger around the strap of your backpack. Jaemin then pulled you towards him, making you bump into his shoulder.

you sighed and used your elbow to push him away. "why would i do that when i know you are going to sabotage my part?".

Jaemin let your bag go and clutched his stomach while laughing hard. "you know me too well."

you finally had some time to have lunch before your third class of the day. you texted your friend your location and queued to buy your food first.

you were thinking of what to eat when you bumped into the person in front of you. "sorry!"

the person turned around and would you look at that. it was none other than Na Jaemin.

"oh it's just you, Na. totally not sorry."

Jaemin ignored you and turned back to the cashier. "i really left my wallet in the dorm. my friends are not here yet. can i please pay later or tomorrow?"

the cashier was a middle-aged lady who looked mean. "no. no money, no food. simple."

you heard the whole thing and felt bad. you sighed and went beside Jaemin. "how much is it? i will pay for the food."

Jaemin looked at you in shock. he totally did not expect you to help him.

"hey y/n, thanks for saving me."

you took your tray of food before looking at him with your usual poker face.

"i didn't do it to save you. i did it because i don't want the food to be wasted. next time check for your wallet before buying things. don't go around and make troubles for others".

Jaemin grinned despite the nagging and went to his table.

you sighed again when you saw Jaemin in the hallway, flirting with yet another girl. you shook your head in disapproval. what a playboy. you absolutely did not care about him and went straight to the classroom.

you cursed under your breath when you came in at the same time as the professor. "ah you are lucky today. is anyone else outside? if not, please lock the door. i do not tolerate late students.".

you were about to nod, but thinking about how Jaemin was dilly dallying outside, you shook your head and quickly locked the door.

it was about fifteen minutes into the class when you heard the doorknob being twisted. "what the hell?"

Jaemin peeked into the class through the window and saw you sitting by yourself. you made eye contact with him and smirked before focusing back on the lecture. "next time check your expensive watch, dumbass".

"OI Y/N! Y/N!" you sighed when you heard Jaemin screaming your name while chasing you. you stopped on your tracks and turned to face him.

"you clearly did that on purpose."

you shrugged your shoulders and turned back but Jaemin grabbed your backpack again.

"i'm talking to you".

"i don't have anything to say to you"

Jaemin rolled his eyes and let your bag go. "you don't have to be so annoying".

"huh? me annoying? i'm not the one who flirts with everybody in the hallway and didn't check the time. i was just doing what the professor asked me to. too bad you weren't so lucky today".

Jaemin chuckled and stepped closer to you. "you said you didn't have anything to say to me. you know what, you sounded like you were jealous when i flirt with others."

you frowned and pushed him back. "this is why i don't talk to you".

Jaemin chuckled. "don't think that i have let go of what you did today".

weeks had passed and it was that time when you had mid semester tests and piles of assignments to submit.

you rubbed your eyes and finally shut down your laptop at 3 in the morning. your classes ended pretty late and when you rushed back to the dorm, the only thing occupying your mind was to finish the research proposal that was due before midnight.

you thought you were done once you submitted, but then you just remembered you had a quiz at 9am the next day and you haven't had the time to review the materials. you read as much notes as you can and decided to finally give your brain a rest at 3am.

you groaned when your alarm went off. you sat up groggily and coughed as you felt your throat dry. you chugged some water before getting up to get ready for class.

"y/n, you don't really look good. why don't you rest today?" your dormmate, Hana, suggested as she looked at you with a worried face.

you shook your head and unlocked the door. "i have a test today. i can't miss it. i promise i am fine, okay? don't worry!". Hana hesitated but nodded anyway.

in fact, your throat still felt dry no matter how many bottles you have chugged down, and your head felt a bit heavy. you strengthened yourself and walked quickly to the campus before anything happened to you.

Jaemin stretched leisurely as he got up from his bed. his dormmate was already out for his morning class while Jaemin was enjoying his hot coffee.

"cancelled morning classes are the best gifts!" he happily chirped.

yesterday when Jaemin was about to leave, the professor called out to him and informed Jaemin that he had an emergency matter at home so the test was postponed and the class was cancelled.

since he was in a rush, he told Jaemin to inform the whole class. the professor was familiar with Jaemin as Jaemin had taken classes with him in the previous semesters, so he trusted Jaemin.

as instructed, Jaemin posted about this good news on the students' forum for his classmates to see. however, Jaemin got a nasty idea. he wanted to get you back for locking him out of the classroom on the first day of the semester. Jaemin blocked your account on the forum so you could not see his post and be updated.

Jaemin checked his watch. 9.30am. he chuckled and sipped on his bitter drink. you must be pissed off right now coming to class and realising that class was cancelled. Jaemin felt satisfied at the thought but he had a bad feeling. he tried to put it aside but he was restless. Jaemin groaned and quickly got ready before going to the campus.

without realising it, his feet brought him straight to the lecture hall. Jaemin scanned the big room and sighed when he saw your figure in the corner with your head down on the table.

Jaemin quickly walked towards you with a frown. he nudged your shoulder with his phone.

"oi idiot. it's been an hour since class was supposed to start but no one came in. didn't you think that something was off? why are you sleeping here?"

you slowly lifted your heavy head from the table and looked up at Jaemin.

"huh? it's been an hour? i didn't realise..."

Jaemin's frown deepened when he looked at your face.

"y/n, your face look a bit pale today. are you ill?".

"i'm fine."

"no, you look really sick right now!"

Jaemin naturally leaned closer to your face. he lifted a hand towards your forehead to check your temperature, but you quickly slapped his hand away.

"what the hell? i said i'm fine."

Jaemin was surprised when you hit his hand. you ignored his stare and packed your bag.

"why wasn't i informed about the cancellation of today's class? this is such a waste of energy." you muttered under your breath but Jaemin could here your raspy voice clearly.

Jaemin felt a pang in his heart. he felt guilty. "ac-actually, i was supposed to inform the whole class but i blocked you... to get my revenge. but didn't any of your friends in this class inform you??".

you looked at Jaemin with an unreadable expression and turned away to leave the hall. Jaemin followed you out like a puppy.

"did you not get enough sleep yesterday? have you taken your medicine? getting sick at this time of the semester is really a bad luck."

you stopped on your tracks and turned to face Jaemin. "shut up. you're making my headache worse".

you decided to take a short break and sat on one of the benches. you held your head in one hand and closed your eyes before breathing slowly to calm yourself down.

Jaemin saw a vending machine nearby and quickly bought a bottle of sports water. he uncapped the bottle and handed it to you.

"here, this will make you feel bett--" before he could finish, you groaned and slapped his hand with the bottle away. the sound of the bottle hitting the floor as water splashed out echoed the empty corner.

"stop acting like you care! if only you didn't pull such a childish prank, i wouldn't have stayed up late and came down with a cold!"

Jaemin stared at the spilled drink and frowned.

"well, if you had managed your time well, you wouldn't have to rush and cram everything in one night! it's clearly not my fault here. besides, don't you check your phone for any updates or something?".

you sighed and stood up slowly. "you are unbelievable, Na Jaemin."

Jaemin froze when you called his full name. he wanted to chase after you but his body won't move.

for the rest of the day you decided to rest in your dorm. your fever was still quite high the next day so you did not attend any of your classes. Hana helped you buy some medication and food.

Jaemin clicked his pen and shook his legs anxiously. he had not seen you for almost 2 days now. he was actually worried about you. when Jaemin saw your disappointed face the other day, he felt something in his heart.

he didn't know what but it made him go crazy. Jaemin hated your disappointed expression. sure he liked to annoy you but Jaemin had never seen you look at him like that before.

the moment Jaemin saw you stepped into the classroom, he quickly sat up on his seat. he was about to call your name when another classmate greeted you.

"y/n! i missed you~ are you feeling better now?" you chuckled and nodded. "i am really fine now!".

Jaemin could not help but stare at you. have you ever smiled so sincerely like that in front of him?

beautiful.

you took your seat and took out your laptop. it was your turn to present your research today in front of the whole class. this was one of your favourite classes because it was mostly individual tasks, so you did not have to work with others.

you took a deep breath as you started your presentation. halfway in, you heard a classmate gasped as she looked at you with a worried look.

"y/n, are you still sick? your lips are blue"

you touched your lips and nodded. "i'm okay, maybe the room is just too cold. please let me finish my presentation."

you really felt fine. it was just your body reacting to the cold. you went back to your seat with satisfaction. you felt like you did a good job presenting despite the interruption earlier.

you were waiting for the next presenter when Jaemin swiftly plopped his jacket around your shoulders as he went to the front for his presentation.

you blinked in confusion, trying to process what just happened. you looked at Jaemin who was focusing on his speech, not once looking back at you. you bit your bottom lip and pulled the jacket around you tighter. the jacket and Jaemin's body warmth comforted you in the cold classroom.

you quickly shook your head at the weird thought and tried to pay attention in class. you could not have gone soft on Jaemin just because he gave you his jacket.

class ended not so smoothly for you because of your thoughts. Jaemin did not take his jacket back even after class. you quickly took your bag and chased after Jaemin.

"h-hey! thanks for the jacket.."

Jaemin turned to look at you and smirked before taking the jacket from your hands.

"i didn't do it to save you, i did it so that you could see me present way better than you did. next time be more careful, don't go around and make troubles for others".

you pursed your lips when you heard the familiar words coming from the troublemaker himself. you sighed and thanked him once again before walking away.

Jaemin chuckled looking at your back and covered his mouth with his palm to hide his wide smile. *i must be crazy*

you were walking out of the campus when a guy suddenly called your name. you looked up and saw one of the most popular guys in your university, Jiho, jogging towards you. you paused on your tracks and waited for him to come to you.

Jiho smiled before fishing out his phone from his pocket.

"y/n, i have been wanting to ask you this, are you free this week? let's have dinner together."

you stared at him and fiddled with your phone that was in your pocket.

"hmm? why so sudden?" you didn't understand. you've interacted with him before but the both of you weren't that close to each other to have meals together.

"it's not sudden, i have been interested in you for a long time and i am finally brave enough to ask you out. can we exchange numbers?"

you were just calming yourself down from your Jaemin thoughts earlier and suddenly this guy came to you and told you about his feelings.

you were about to take out your phone when an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

"y/n is not free this week nor the next weeks. she has dinner plans with me everyday,"

chills went down your spine when you heard the deep gentle yet firm voice.

Jiho's expression automatically changed. he glared at the person beside you and fakely gave you a cute smile before walking away.

you were still confused at the whole situation but you managed to push Jaemin's arm that was on you away.

"Jiho is not a good guy. don't go with him"

you looked at Jaemin with a raised eyebrow before chuckling.

"you are one to say".

Jaemin gently grabbed your shoulders and leaned down so that he was eye to eye with you.

"listen to me. i just flirt with others, but Jiho? he is absolutely dangerous. really, don't get too close to him"

you felt your face warmed up at the closeness and quickly pulled yourself away.

"wh-why do i have to listen to what you say? it's my life, i can do what i want. why are you even warning me like you care?"

Jaemin sighed in his heart and looked at you with a serious face. "it's because i DO care."

you were stunned at Jaemin's words. you backed away from him but his next words stunned you even more.

"i think i like you, y/n"

"huh?"

"i finally understand this feeling in my heart. i like you, y/n"

your voice was stuck in your throat. you didn't know what or how or why this was happening. Jaemin was about to step closer to you but was interrupted when Hana came running.

"y/n!!! i am so sorry for being late. dinner is on me okay?"

you jumped in surprise when Hana suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts. Hana looked at you in confusion and finally realised that Jaemin was in front of you.

"ah were you talking to your friend?"

Jaemin bit his lower lip and gave your friend a small smile. "no it's fine, we just finished. enjoy your dinner, i'll be going first".

you felt your heart clenched when Jaemin did not even spare you a glance before walking away.

*what the hell? didn't we both agree that we are incompatible even as friends?*

thanks to Jaemin's sudden confession, your mind was so full of him that you had a hard time falling asleep even though you were tired. Hana noticed that your focus was off ever since she met you for dinner.

"y/n, did i interrupt your conversation earlier? i really did not realise him standing there. i am sorry either way if i did."

you stared blankly at your roommate before shaking your head slowly.

"i was glad you came on time. i don't know what i would do if i stayed with him any longer".

Hana raised an eyebrow, curious as to what happened. but she didn't ask you about it. if you wanted to tell her, you would have done that without her asking.

"well then, have a good rest! we have morning classes tomorrow." you nodded and headed to your bedroom obediently.

you stared at the plain ceiling processing your jumbled mind. "i don't understand Na Jaemin". you mumbled. you managed to sleep but it was not a good one. you would wake up every few minutes.

the next morning, you were still so tired physically and mentally. you took a deep breath and went to class as usual.

you wanted to see Jaemin after yesterday's confession. you wanted to ask him what made his feelings change. didn't he hate you all these while? aren't the two of you supposed to be enemies?

you arrived early and sat at your usual seat. Jaemin would always sit at the back so no matter what, he will have to pass by your seat.

you gripped on the hem of your shirt when you saw Jaemin by the door. his friends greeted him as soon as Jaemin entered. you gulped when Jaemin suddenly made eye contact with you.

even though he turned away after a second, you felt your heart beat fast out of nervousness. you waited for Jaemin to walk past you but surprisingly, Jaemin chose a seat at the front row.

you were dumbfounded at the unexpected situation. you buried your face in your arms, embarrassed that you thought things would go easy.

Jaemin glanced at your figure and quickly looked away as he bit his lower lip. he was afraid that you would show him the disappointed face you once showed when you were down with fever. Jaemin was afraid to be confronted and rejected by you.

you quickly packed your things when class ended. you wanted to approach Jaemin quickly, but he was faster. by the time you packed your bag, he was already at the door, leaving the classroom. you ran towards the exit, bumping into some classmates.

"Na! Na!"

Jaemin kept walking as if he didn't hear anything.

"Na Jaemin, wait!"

Jaemin's heart clenched when you called his full name. he almost gave in and stopped in his tracks, but Jaemin dragged his heavy feet to keep on walking away. you panted as you lost sight of Jaemin. you sighed in frustration and decided to try again later.

however, no matter how hard you tried to approach or chase Jaemin, he was always quicker at hiding or escaping. you were beginning to doubt if he really was sober when he confessed his feelings to you yesterday.

"Na Jaemin you jerk" you mumbled before heading home.

the next day, the same cycle happened. you tried approaching Jaemin, but Jaemin would find ways to escape from you. you have had enough of this game. you decided to ask Hana for help.

"are you Na Jaemin?"

Jaemin looked away from his phone as a cute voice called out to him. "yes I am. do you need any help?"

Hana nodded slowly and pointed to a corner. "Professor Lee is looking for you. he said he had something important to ask you." Jaemin thanked Hana and quickly went to the corner.

*that girl looked familiar. i wonder where i saw h--* Jaemin's thought was cut off when the person he saw was not Professor Lee, but you.

*right.... that girl was y/n's friend. really Na Jaemin? you fell for such a childish trick so easily?*

Jaemin was about to go back but you quickly tugged his sleeve. "stop running away from me, Na".

Jaemin slowly turned back to face you. the both of you stared at each other for a few seconds before you broke the silence.

"why the sudden change of feelings?"

Jaemin only bit his lip and kept quiet.

"i wondered, did he really confessed to me? or was i dreaming? after making me restless all night thinking about how i should process your feelings, you just left me hanging alone. everytime i wanted to talk to you, you would run away. weird. do you really like me or was that just another childish prank to annoy me, hmm? if it was just a prank, then tell me clearly. i am tired of this game. i know we are supposed to hate each other, but pranking like this is too far, Na."

"i am not pranking you." Jaemin finally spoke up.

you chuckled and looked to the side.

"i really like you, y/n. i don't know when or how it started, but i just felt sad when you were disappointed in me the other day. everytime you smile at someone else, i find it beautiful and i feel jealous. have you ever smiled at me so sincerely? i know everything is a mess but isn't love like that?"

you held your forehead with your palm and sighed.

"tell me, Na. what am i supposed to do now? i am unsure of my own feelings,"

Jaemin took your hand that was on his sleeve gently and held it in his warm one.

"can i take that as you not flat out rejecting me?"

you stared at your hands and gulped.

"if so, i will help you process your feelings. that is if you let me".

you frowned and looked at Jaemin who was smiling handsomely at you.

"what do you mean by that?"

Jaemin interlocked your fingers and winked. "i will pretend to be your boyfriend until you want me to be your real boyfriend."

your face warmed up at his words. "th-that does not make sense! what if i never want you to be my b--boyfriend?!"

Jaemin chuckled and squeezed your hand. "i am sure i will make you want me".

surely, Jaemin started to act like your boyfriend. he was still the same annoying and playful Jaemin, but now he only gives all his attention to you. he stopped flirting with others even when girls still tried to hit on him.

Jaemin would only look at you and do things with and for you. you hate to admit it but despite him being irritating as always, he was actually kind of cute.

"morning, my heart~ have you had breakfast? i bought a cream bun for you!" Jaemin greeted you with his gentle voice as he placed the food on your table.

you were still trying to adapt to his new nickname for you. 'my heart'. it sounds simple but it is such a sweet nickname.

"you don't have to speak so loudly, Na. people might stare.." you took the bun and tried to hide your face with it. Jaemin chuckled before sitting next to you. "i think sitting at the front is not that bad. i'm going to sit with you in the classes that we have together!".

you took a bite of the bun before frowning. "uhm isn't that like every single class that i have ?"

Jaemin grinned and nodded like an innocent rabbit. his gaze went to you lips as he stretched out an arm and wiped the side of your mouth with his thumb.

"you had some cream there, love".

you were in a daze from the contact, the closeness and also from his affectionate way of calling you. you cleared your throat and quickly turned away.

"th-thanks".

Jaemin smiled as he also turned to the side.

*she's so cute!!!!!* Jaemin screamed in his mind as he covered his face with both his palms.

you asked Jaemin to have lunch with you, and Jaemin would not stop teasing you.

"oh? i only needed a week to make you fall for me?"

you ignored his words and started queing.

"i just happened to hear you borrow money from your friend because you forgot your wallet..again"

Jaemin blushed in embarrassment and cleared his throat. he did not expect you to notice him whispering to another classmate earlier.

"i- yeah, no uhm,"

you frowned and looked at the stammering guy.

Jaemin pursed his lips and looked at you innocently.

"he owed me money"

you chuckled and shook your head. "i'll buy you lunch and whatever snacks you want. you can give your friend his money back. don't trouble others".

Jaemin bit his lip and only nodded like a small kid.

it wasn't your first time buying him lunch, and Jaemin found that very attractive of you. you were not as calculative as his other friends. you were always so generous especially when it came to food. Jaemin was confident that he won't ever starve when he becomes your real boyfriend.

the two of you walked together to your next class. the class where your lecturer was strict about punctuality. you still had a few minutes before class started so you told Jaemin you wanted to buy a drink from the vending machine. Jaemin voluntarily waited for you at the side.

after buying a drink for you and Jaemin, you heard people talking and one of them sounded like Jaemin.

"aww come on! it's been a while since we had fun together!" it was a girl's voice.

"i am not interested anymore. i have other things to do". you heard Jaemin responded.

"you've got to be kidding me!! my friends miss you~" the girl tried to persuade.

you were annoyed at the conversation and decided to step in.

"he said he's not interested, so stop forcing him"

Jaemin was surprised at your voice. he smiled and nodded, agreeing with you.

the girl rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.

"and you are?"

you did not expect her to ask. you were confused at your current relationship. Jaemin was acting as your boyfriend, but what were you to him?

Jaemin looked at you, anticipating your answer. you were silent for a second before stammering.

"i'm.. i'm Jaemin's heart!"

the girl looked at you and then Jaemin and then you again before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Jaemin's heart? girl are you delusional? we girls agreed to share Jaemin."

you frowned at her reply and unnoticingly grabbed Jaemin's hand.

"Jaemin is clearly not an object. what do you mean share him?"

the girl was about to retort back but Jaemin's next actions surprised both you and the girl.

Jaemin pulled you towards him and cupped your face gently.

"you are so cool for saying that, can i kiss you now?"

you blinked in confusion. his warm breath hit your face as Jaemin stared at you, waiting for your permission.

you slowly nodded your head. Jaemin did not wait another second and quickly kissed your lips. although his actions were in a rush, the kiss was gentle.

the girl groaned and reluctantly walked away.

Jaemin slowly pulled away from your lips. Jaemin did not let go of your face and stared directly into your eyes as he catches his breath.

"you don't have to go so far just to chase her away" you whispered as you looked away from his stare.

"did you hate it?" Jaemin asked softly.

"i did not dislike it"

Jaemin chuckled at your response and carressed your face.

"does this mean that i can finally be your real boyfriend?"

you remained quiet. you were still confused.

Jaemin patted your head before leaning away from you. "i will wait".

the two of you went to class in silence. Jaemin gave you your space and decided to sit at his usual place.

your head was all over the place. you definitely did not pay attention during class. thank god it was just another classmate presenting their proposal.

you were so deep into your thoughts that you didn't realise class was over until Jaemin pinched your cheek playfully.

"you wanna stay here?"

you quickly shook your head and stood up.

"are you okay?"

you cleared your throat and was about to reply him but another girl classmate spoke to Jaemin first.

"Jaemin, let's have dinner together! i heard a new restaurant had just opened near here."

you pursed your lips and looked at Jaemin, waiting for him to reply.

"oh yeah, sure."

you were a bit shocked at Jaemin's response. he rejected the girl earlier but he accepted this other girl's invitation?

Jaemin was about to follow the classmate out when you grabbed his wrist.

"don't go"

Jaemin slightly smirked to himself and grabbed your hand back.

"why?"

you tightened your hold on his wrist and looked at him awkwardly. the classmate earlier was waiting for Jaemin outside.

"i think i like you"

Jaemin's whole body warmed up at your shy confession. he pulled you into his embrace and carressed your hair.

"did i really have to make you jealous for you to realise your feelings?"

you frowned and pulled away. "you were lying?"

Jaemin chuckled and pecked the side of your lips.

"not really, if you didn't stop me i would go. i'm hungry."

you bit your lips and buried your face into Jaemin's chest. "jerk".

Jaemin chuckled and rubbed his chin on your head.

"let's go eat now. i'm going to tell the classmate that my girlfriend already have plans for our dinner!".

you blushed at the word 'girlfriend' but nodded anyway. Jaemin was about to walk to the exit when you pulled him back.

"wait, before we go, uhm.. can i kiss you?"

Jaemin blinked at your request and froze for a second before leaning down towards your lips. his chapped lips did not prevent the both of you from having a deeper kiss than your first one.

this time, you poured all your emotions into the kiss. Jaemin was a bit taken aback but he managed to calm you down.

you pulled away with your eyes still closed and you leaned on his shoulder.

"i never thought i would have this kind of relationship with my once enemy"

Jaemin raised an eyebrow and poked your cheek.

"what kind of relationship?"

"love".

.

.

.

a/n: finally i am done writing this!! hopefully yall enjoyed it !! 💚

[redpandaramblings]

A Matter of Admiration Alpha Gang Orca x Omega f!Reader

Hello Hello! Here is my very VERY late submission for the SFW portion of Spudcorner's Valentine Blood and Chocolate Collab. This was meant to be a two page drabble. 13 pages later it's a bit more than that. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy!

Sequel/Epilogue Here

Content Warnings- Omegaverse, SFW, Insecurities, Misunderstandings, Pining, Fluff, Lots of food mentioned, Kugo being very down on himself, very minor mention of blood and stitches needed.

“Really? Again?”

The large alpha seemed to shrink under your judgemental glare.

“I am sorry, Y/N. The fight got intense and it slipped off. Someone must have stepped on it.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze turning to the workbench where the shattered remains of your creation sat. This was your seventh attempt at outfitting Gang Orca with a communicator headset. It was dangerous for him to keep fishing for a handheld during the heat of battle. Unfortunately, his lack of outer ear made keeping a headset on him difficult. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile.

“Not your fault, Sakamata. We knew this was going to be tricky. Though at this rate I’m tempted to just glue a headset on you and call it a day.”

Kugo snorted, his posture relaxing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I hate to see your hard work go to waste.”

“It’s not a waste if I learn something from it. This one lasted a couple weeks of normal patrol work, so that’s an improvement. We just need to figure out what was different about this fight. So, sit. Talk.”

Kugo shook his head with an amused huff. He admitted he had been slightly dubious when you had first come to his agency. He’d encountered many hero support workers claiming to specialize in mutation quirks that seemed to be looking for lab rats for their creations. However, you always listened to what he said, and made suggestions that would actually make his job easier. You made sure your support items not only were functional, but comfortable at well. If the few years you had worked for him, he was pleased to say you had become good friends.

“I can’t right now, Y/N. I need to get cleaned up, then complete my report before I forget the details. I’ll come back first thing tomorrow.” You frowned, tapping your foot. Kugo fought to keep a neutral expression. You’d never forgive him if you knew how much he enjoyed your expressions when you were annoyed.

“Alright. Fine. First thing tomorrow. But make sure you get some rest tonight, you’ve been working too hard lately!”

Sakamata waved a hand in answer as he walked out the workshop door. He’d try to follow your request, but a hero’s work is never done.

~~~~~

Gang Orca shuffled through the door to his agency with an aura of gloom about him. In the past five days, he had broken five more communicators, gotten into several serious fights, and had allowed a villain to escape. And that was just his work life. Some of his friends had set him up for a speed dating session. He didn’t blame them for trying, but it ended exactly how he knew it would. Most of the omegas who had been present were scared of him, and those that weren’t were clearly only interested in his pro hero paycheck. Kugo trudged toward his office, his thoughts gloomy. A man with a quirk like his would never have a normal courtship. It hurt sometimes. How nice it would be to come home to a sweet smelling omega. What wouldn’t he give to home filled with pups, and laughter and love? He sighed softly as he swung his door open. Such a life was not meant for him, so no point in even dreaming. On autopilot, he hung his coat on the coat rack, and turned to set his briefcase on his desk. However, the desk was already occupied. Kugo tilted his head as he stared at the object resting on his desk. It appeared to be a large bento box, wrapped in a rather feminine handkerchief, patterned with some sort of flowers. Kugo set his briefcase down on a chair before coming closer to investigate. Gingerly, he untied the knot, setting the cloth aside as he looked at the contents curiously.

First and most obviously, was the strawberry shaped sticky note attached to the top. “You looked like you had been having a rough week. I hope this can make it better!” The writing was… painstakingly cute. The “i”s were dotted with little hearts. Each letter having just a little bit of flourish, while still being legible.

Kugo hummed quietly to himself. Clearly this had been left on his desk by mistake. A bit awkward, considering his name was on the door, but there was no other explanation. He drummed his fingers on the desk as he considered his options. He could take a guess at who the bento was for. There were several popular alpha heroes working for him that got their share of gifts from admirers. The soft omegan scent coming from the handkerchief that had wrapped the bento was a solid clue the gift was likely meant for one of them. But really, there was no way to tell for sure who it was supposed to end up with, and he really didn’t want the hard work to go to waste. Yes. Best thing would be to eat the bento, and place the box in the break room with a note inside the box apologizing.

His course of action decided, Kugo opened the bento, quietly sucking a breath as he saw what was inside. There were sausages cut to look like little octopi. A large slab of teriyaki salmon. Rice balls shaped like teddy bear heads, complete with little seaweed faces. He tried to tamp down his delight at seeing over half of the bento was dedicated to tamagoyaki. While he lived up to his stereotype of loving fish, the egg dish was a secret favorite of his; something his mother had made for him whenever he had a bad day when he was growing up. The second layer of the bento had even more. Rice, vegetables, and surprisingly a small but adorable piece of cake. Kugo put the bento back together with a small smile on his face. Perhaps it wasn’t meant for him, but it had been a long time since he had been able to enjoy something like this- cute and homemade, clearly filled with a great deal of care. He couldn’t quite feel guilty as he looked forward to lunch. He could pretend, just this once, that a sweet smelling omega had put so much care into something for him.

~~~~~~

Later that day, when most of the day team had left, Kugo made his way to the common break room. He carefully cleaned out the bento box in the sink, setting it to the side to dry. He folded the handkerchief it had came in, and placed it next to the box before sighing. He was in the process of scribbling a brief apology note when he heard a cough. He glanced up to see y/n leaning against the doorway.

“You okay, chief? Thought your shift ended an hour ago.”

Kugo nodded as he placed his note on top of the handkerchief. “Yes, just had a few things I needed to wrap up. What about you? I know you were supposed to be done several hours ago now.”

You fidgeted, embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as you glanced away. “Had an idea for how to improve a few items and, well, you know how I get when I have a project. But what have you got there? You never struck me as the homemade lunch type.”

It was Kugo’s turn to look uncomfortable as he shuffled from foot to foot. “It was left on my desk this morning by mistake. I had no way of knowing who it was actually meant for, and I didn’t want it going to waste, so I ate it.”

You frowned as you walked into the room, opening cupboards and starting to retrieve things to make tea. You held a mug up toward Kugo in a silent question, grabbing a second one when he nodded. You were quiet for a few moments, going through the motions. After a while you asked “How are you so sure it wasn’t for you?”

Kugo snorted, leaning back against the counter and gesturing at himself. “Omegas aren’t exactly lined up around the block. I don’t place high on the ‘heroes that look most like villains’ list every year for no reason. Some unfortunate omega got confused about whose office was whose. It’s a shame I couldn’t give it to whoever it was meant for, it was a beautifully crafted bento.” Kugo doesn’t mention the note. Kugo especially doesn’t mention the note had found its way into his desk drawer to save as a memory of how nice it had been to receive the bento, even if it was an accident.

You laughed, passing him a steaming cup of tea, made just how he liked. “Sakamata, don’t talk down about yourself like that. You’re big, strong, and prime alpha material. You’re one of the top heroes! And even more importantly, you’re a gentle kind man that any omega would be lucky to have. I’d bet good money that that bento absolutely was made just for you.”

“A nice thought, but I doubt it. You’ll see. In a few days I bet a bento will make its way to who it was meant for.”

~~~~~~

Kugo stood stock still in the doorway to his office. Sitting on his desk was another cloth wrapped package. Once was a mistake, clearly. But two days in a row? Why on Earth was there another bento on his desk? He approached the desk and slide the bento to him. He untied the scented fabric with care. A cat shaped note greeted him.

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t clear before, Sakamata. I wanted to make this for you because I admire you so much. I’m not always great at saying my feelings, so I hope my cooking says enough.”

This was… for him. The bentos… were for him? He sat in his chair, leaning his head against his hands as he regarded the innocent looking lunch. If it wasn’t a mistake, then what could it be? Probably a fortune hunting omega trying to get in his good graces, if he went off his past experience. Though usually those types of omegas were more likely to offer favors of a different sort. Kugo winced as another thought occurred to him. There was a good chance this omega pitied him. Ugly, intimidating, unmatable. Someone had seen him and decided he needed looking after because clearly he’d never get someone on his own. Yes. That had to be it. He should leave the bento in the break room and end this farce as soon as possible.

His mind made up, Kugo picked up the bundle to do exactly that. The subtle smell of the contents hit his sensitive nose, causing him to salivate. Tempura? Definitely egg. Well, it would be a shame to not even look inside to make sure.

Clearly just as much care had gone into this one as the last one. The rice balls were shaped like little cat heads, to match the note. An assortment of tempura seemed to be the main dish, cute cat shaped food picks stuck in some of them. There were even paw print shaped gummy candies for the dessert. Every inch of the lunch was absolutely adorable. And it was all done for him. There was no way Kugo could let it go to waste. It hurt to know it was a gift given out of pity, but maybe, just for a while, he could pretend there was someone out there who loved him like this. The omega would grow tired of this eventually. Until then, he’d let himself enjoy this.

~~~~~

It was surprising how easily this had become routine. Every day when Kugo walked into his office, there was a new bento waiting for him. And every day he’d unwrap the bento, indulging a brief moment in the cutely patterned handkerchiefs. Every bento was unique and cute. They seemed to show a good understanding of his tastes and preferences. It was a pleasant break on the quiet days and a welcome comfort on the rough days. Each day there was a sweet written note that Kugo gently stored in his desk drawer. It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

~~~~~~~

Kugo hated attending charity events. It wasn’t the charities, he always supported good causes. It wasn’t the dressing up, or the fancy atmosphere. It was the people. While a few of his friends were around somewhere, there were many many others who didn’t know him well. Others who were intimidated by his appearance. Others who apparently had no idea just how sharp his hearing was.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Gang Orca is here.”

“I know! Well, I suppose he is a hero. Allegedly, anyway.”

“Did he come with anyone?”

“Of course not. I mean ew. Look at him. Can you imagine cosying up to that at the end of the day?”

“I know! And those teeth! If he tried to bond someone, he’d take their head clean off!”

“As if anyone would want to bond with that.”

“I don’t know. He’s in the top ten pretty often. He has to be loaded, right?”

“Would have to be a lot for me to even consider it.”

“It could be all the money and I still wouldn’t!”

“Oh don’t say that! Poor bastard can’t help he’s unmatable.”

Kugo walked away from the refreshment table as he tried to tune out the unkind comments and mocking laughter. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He knew full well what he looked like. He had had enough failed courting attempts to know exactly what omegas thought of him. But it still stung. Stung more than usual, actually. The daily bentos with their scented cloths and cute little notes had almost made him forget. The only omegas who were interested either pitied him, or wanted his money. He could never forget that.

~~~~~

What he could forget, apparently, was that the number two pro hero was scheduled to be at his office the morning after the charity gala. Kugo stifled a sigh when he saw the red winged hero waiting outside his agency’s door. Of course he’d have to deal with this on a day when he wasn’t in the best of moods. “Orca! My man, good to see you again!”

Kugo nodded as he held the door open. “Hawks.”

“Didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the party last night. You know how it is. Go to one of those things when you're single, and you get swarmed.”

Kugo gave a non committal grunt. No, he didn’t know. He just wanted this morning to be over with. He perked up slightly as he saw you hurrying down the hallway toward them. Hawks gave a low whistle. “Who's the babe?” Kugo half growled. “That is Miss Y/N. The support item engineer you allegedly came here to see. You will be respectful and refrain from flirting with my staff.”

Keigo held up his hands and laughed. “Hey now big guy, don’t mean any offense. Just saying you’re lucky to get to work with that every day.”

Kugo jerked his head in an abbreviated nod. You slowed down your quick walk as you got closer, not wanting to interrupt the heroes’s conversation. Kugo waved you closer. You smiled at him so brightly as you joined the group. Yes. He was lucky to work with a friend such as you. Kugo’s nerves started to cool a bit as he introduced you and the three of you began to make your way to his office. Hawk’s casual questions were more inquisitive than flirty, and Kugo knew from long experience just how much you enjoyed being able to talk in depth about your work. He was smiling by the time he opened the door to his office, ushering the two or you in. Hawk’s next words hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Dang! Either you got one hell of a cafeteria service at this agency, or Gang Orca has himself quite an admirer. Delivered right to your desk, pretty bold, man! That’s exactly why I keep my door locked. There’s only so much lunch a man can eat, am I right?”

The bento. He had forgotten about the stupid bento. There it sat, as always. The handkerchief was especially cute today, some sort of pattern with teddy bears hugging and kissing. Any other day, the sight would have calmed him. Any other day he would have sat down and quickly poked through to see what surprises lay inside that day, would have read the note meant just for him with a smile.

But today was different. Others were in his office. The number two hero, handsome and popular. His support engineer, pretty enough to probably have plenty of suitors of her own. And then there was him. Large. Scary. Consistently told he looks like a villain. Has never had a relationship that wasn’t pitying or profiteering. Kugo remembered the whispered remarks from the party. Usually he’d be able to brush off Hawks’s commentary. But today…

Kugo snarled, his scent agitated as he swept his arm across the desk, knocking the bento roughly into the trash. “They are a nuisance that need to cease! I’m so tired of some desperate piting omega shoving their unwanted, unneeded efforts at me! Enough is enough!” At the end his voice was raised to a shout. He was dimly aware of his nails digging deeply into his palms. Kugo leaned on the desk, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself. He could hear the others shuffling behind him awkwardly.

“Come on,” You murmured and lightly tugged on Keigo’s sleeve. “How about I show you my lab and take some measurements before we get started.”

“Yeah. Um. Yeah.” Keigo allowed you to lead him away. You softly closed the door behind you. Kugo remained, hunched and breathing raggedly. It took him several minutes to calm down. It took him a few minutes beyond that to gather the nerve to make the trek down to the support lab. He slipped into the room as inconspicously as a man with his fram could manage. You were taking measurements off of Keigo and muttering to yourself as you tapped out notes on your tablet. Keigo noticed Kugo’s entrance and greeted him cautiously. “You good?” Kugo nodded. “I… apologize. It’s been a rather trying week, but I should have composed myself better.”

Keigo waved him off. “No worries, man, no worries. Y/n was just telling me she thinks that she’ll be able to rig up something for me that would help slow my fall in situations where my wings get damaged.”

You hummed an affirmative, taking a few more measurements before you started describing your process. Kugo couldn’t help but notice you didn’t look his way. You looked at the ground, at your tablet, at Keigo, but you were clearly avoiding Kugo’s gaze. He mentally winced as he settled onto an out of the way stool. It was rare for him to have that kind of emotional outburst. It probably could be heard even from outside his office. He’d make sure to apologize to you better when he got the chance. But for now, it was looking like it would be a long, awkward day. Goodie.

~~~~~

Kugo growled under his breath the next morning when he saw the cloth wrapped bundle sitting on his desk. Yesterday’s embarrassment was still fresh in his mind as he stalked forward. His thick fingers quickly untied the surprisingly unpatterned piece of fabric. There, under the cloth, on top of the box, was a note as there always was. Kugo’s anger was cooled by confusion when he saw it, however. The paper was a plain yellow post-it note. Instead of the painstakingly cute handwriting with the heart dotted “i’s, there was a clearly hasty scrawl.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to annoy you. This will be the last one.”

Kugo frowned, shifting in his seat. Clearly the bento maker had heard about his outburst from yesterday. That was… unfortunate. But perhaps for the best, since he had no way of directly telling them to cease their nonsense. Unconsciously, his hand balled up the handkerchief and as he had been doing for a while, he scented it.

The cloth had a slight smell of salt to it. Tears, Kugo realized uncomfortably. The smell of tears slightly diluted the normal soothing smell of whoever had carefully packaged these bentos. He had little appetite as he looked over what was there. Tempura. Salmon. Vegetables. A large portion of tamagoyaki. But the part that caused an uncomfortable weight to settle in his chest was the little red box, filled with slightly clumsy, clearly homemade chocolates. Kugo closed his eyes, sighing as he set the box to the side to wait for lunch. This was good. This was what he wanted, to be left alone instead of some kind hearted omega taking pity on him. He had lived a long time without homemade bentos and little notes. He certainly didn’t want the small offering of chocolates. When lunchtime came, he certainly didn’t linger over the food longer than usual, savoring each bite. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best. That this was what he wanted. He refused to think about why he tucked the handkerchief and the box of chocolates into his desk drawer instead of leaving them in the break room as usual.

The next day as Kugo opened his office door, he looked toward his desk out of habit; searching for the lunch that had been left. His chest gave an uncomfortable lurch when he found the desk was bare. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. This was fine. This was what he wanted. The sooner he forgot about all this nonsense, the sooner things would return to normal. He settled into his chair and began sifting through the paperwork he had to deal with. No better way to take his mind off his troubling thoughts and distract the whine of his inner alpha. He was certain. Things would be back to normal soon.

Two weeks later, Kugo listlessly picked at the limp lettuce of the poor excuse of a salad that he had picked up at a convenience store. He sighed, putting the lid back on the barely touched meal resolving to throw it away when he next passed a garbage can. He didn’t like to admit it, but he missed the carefully planned meals. Wondering what cute surprise was going to be next. It was nice that someone thought he might enjoy seeing animal shaped onigiri and cheesecake flavored kit kats. His alpha whimpered when he thought about the contented omega scent that gently perfumed every handkerchief, except the last. But just as the note had said, he had received nothing since that last bento. His thoughts remained gloomy as he entered the agency, quickly making his way into his office, locking the door behind him. He knew better than to hope as he looked towards his desk. Bare, once again. Sighing heavily, he slumped into his chair. He gently pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk. Carefully nestled into it was the cleaned, empty bento box from the last meal, the small box of dwindling homemade chocolates, and that last precious handkerchief.

Kugo carefully removed the handkerchief. He brought the cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply. Stabbing pain shot through him as he realized the scent was barely there anymore. The faint scent of tears almost completely overpowering the last lingering trace of distressed omega. His hands clutched the fabric tightly, squeezing until he realized the stress he was putting on the fabric. He quickly placed it on the desk and tried in vain to smooth out the wrinkles. After a minute of fussing, he gently refolded it and placed it back in the drawer. Kugo stared at the contents, unblinking before slowly sliding the drawer closed. It was almost gone. Everything was almost gone. And he didn’t know how to get it back.

With a low growl, Kugo pushed himself up. Today was a rare day where he hoped for trouble on his patrol. A fight would certainly take his mind off things, and just maybe calm the whining alpha that echoed throughout his entire being.

~~~~

He really needed to be careful what he wished for. Kugo winced as he limped toward the support lab. He had gotten a fight alright. He had gotten three fights, a twisted ankle, and a once again smashed communication headset. It wasn’t his fault that he had gotten thrown backwards into a rather solid concrete wall. Y/N was going to kill him.

Kugo pushed the lab door open, stepping inside. His forehead creased in worry. The lab felt off. Wrong in a way he couldn’t immediately place a finger finger on. Well, he’d have to think about it later, he decided as he made his way to where you were sitting. You were at your workbench, tapping your pen on the table and staring at nothing when he settled down on the stool next to you. You glanced over as Kugo sat down, did a double take and let out a small noise of surprise.

“Sakamata! What happened to you?”

The large man shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “The usual. Villain didn’t behave exactly how I thought, and I paid for not being vigilant enough. Nothing too bad. Twisted ankle and roughed up a little. Unfortunately though…”

Sheepishly as a scolded schoolboy, Kugo pulled the shattered remains of his latest communicator out of his pocket and placed them on the workbench.

“Kugo!”

He couldn’t help but smile. He loved the times when you got worked up enough to call him by his first name. He watched as you gingerly sifted through the sad shattered remains.

“What did you do, hit it with a rock?!”

“Concrete wall, actually.”

You stilled before turning to look at Kugo, sharp and suspicious. “And I assume you were wearing it at the time?”

Kugo had the decency to look embarrassed as he nodded. Suddenly he was being fussed over, gentle hands touching his face and turning his head this way and that. An exclamation and curse left you when you found a large, sluggishly bleeding gash on the back of Kugo’s head.

“You! You Alpha!” You huffed as you started digging through the pockets of your lab coat. Kugo got a brief glimpse of colored fabric before the handkerchief was softly dabbing at his wound. Kugo hissed, only half listening as the scolding continued about how knot headed alphas needed to learn to go to the medical ward first before worrying about stupid replacable tech. He was brought back to the present when a hand, so much smaller than his own, grabbed his hand. You easily maneuvered him so that Kugo was now firmly holding the handkerchief over the cut. You hummed, satisfied for now.

“Now Sakamata, please hold that there until you can get medical to look at it. Doubt a hard headed man like you has a concussion, but might need stitches. I’m not exactly an expert. Don’t worry about the headset. I should be able to get a new one to you before my replacement takes over. And if not, I’ll be leaving some blueprints behind anyway.”

What?

“Replacement?”

You stilled, looking away from him. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just… I never found the right time to tell you.” You fidgeted, rubbing your thumb over your knuckles. “I’m going to be going to America soon. I’ve gotten a good offer to work with a few heroes over there that need someone specialized in mutation supports. It would do a lot to boost my career…”

Kugo reached out, grabbing your hand, and stopping your nervous motions. He tried to find words in his stalling brain. “This is really sudden, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You wouldn’t meet his gaze.

He gently shook his head, giving your hand a squeeze. “Not scolding you. Just, is everything alright? Is something going on?”

You pulled away, digging your hands into your hair with a sigh. “You know me too well.”

Kugo gave half a smile. “I would hope so. I like to think we’re friends. Is there anything I can do? Are you in trouble in some way?”

You shook your head. “No. No, nothing like that. It’s kind of embarrassing. Just… A courtship that really didn’t turn out well. And I just… I could really use some time away to get my head back on straight. Eagle Pride’s office has mentioned wanting me to go over and collaborate with them for a while, and what better time than now?” Your laugh sounded bitter.

Kugo sat silent and stunned. He hadn’t known you were courting. Being courted? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure of your dynamic. If you weren’t beta, then you certainly hid your scent well. He cleared his throat before speaking hesitantly.

“I certainly won’t stop you if you truly wish to go. It is an excellent opportunity. Might be a step in having your own support company if you wish. And if not, you’re always welcome here, Y/n. You must know that.”

You give a small smile, finally looking him in the eye. His chest tightened when he saw tears there. “I know, Kugo. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’re a good friend for putting up with me.”

“There’s no putting up with. I enjoy your company, always.” Kugo reached out slowly, but you turned away and wiped your eyes with your sleeve. He frowned, placing his hand back in his lap. “And you sure you’re alright, Y/N? No one is threatening you, are they? Someone unsafe taken an interest in you?”

You snorted, “Nothing like that. And people think I’m the dramatic one. No. I just got rejected is all. I miscalculated. Thought they were interested, but they made it very clear they aren’t.”

“Then they’re an idiot.” The words escaped Kugo before he even realized what he was going to say. But it was true, he was sure. You were beautiful, kind, smart. Anyone would be beyond lucky to hold your interest. On the rare days he allowed himself to dream, he often thought he’d love to have someone like you as a mate. Someone who knew him well and cared for him as much as he cared for them. He felt pains in his chest and his eyes widened as realization hit him in the face like a wet mackerel. Oh. He was jealous. He was jealous of whoever it was that y/n had tried to court. And he was angry. Furious that some fool had rejected her. Hurt her. But he was glad she was still here. Yet she was going to leave. Going to leave him here alone. His thoughts swirled and tumbled, and he swayed slightly in his seat. And hand on his shoulder stilled him and he looked up into your concerned eyes.

“Hey, you’re not looking too good. You really should get to medical. Do you need me to help you?”

“No. No. I can make it down a few hallways, thank you though.”

Kugo stood, and tried to give back the cloth he had been pressing to his head. You pushed it back, gently scolding him. “I said leave it there until someone can look at it. If you insist on returning a silly old rag, you can wash it and give it back later.”

Kugo nodded and mumbled out a goodbye. He had a lot to think about as he slowly made his way to medical. So. He liked you. The more he thought about it, the clearer it seemed to him. He’d liked you for a while. Things were always easy with you. But now, you’re leaving. He couldn’t stop you, and wouldn’t even if he could. You clearly felt like you needed to go.

He was still ruminating on his thoughts as the doctor ushered him to a bed. He was poked and prodded. Kugo managed to mumble out what must have been coherent answers. In the end, he did end up needing a few stitches. And just like that, he found himself fixed up and back in his office. He snorted a laugh at the absurdity. How can a day like this somehow manage to be just another day? Kugo sat in his chair and twisted the cloth in his hands absently. He brought it to his nose and sniffed out of habit. Oh course, the scent of his own blood was the most dominant. But underneath that was the usual calming scent of omega. His shoulders relaxed as the tension ran out of him. He pulled that cloth away, idly looking at the pattern. It was cute. Floral. Reminded him of the cloth that the first bento had been…

Wait.

Wait.

He hastily brought the handkerchief to his nose again. There was no mistaking it. He knew that smell. He had missed that smell for weeks. It was faint. But it absolutely was there. Omega, soft and sweet. Not any omega. His omega. His bento maker. His y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n who had seen him toss her courting gift in the trash, who thought he had completely rejected her, and who was moving to America.

Kugo was on his feet in an instant. He’d never made the trip to the support lab that quickly before. You jumped when the door flew open, hitting so harshly that the doorknob dented the wall.

“Sakamata! What?”

He dropped to his knees before you, arms wrapped tight around your waist and his head pressing against your stomach.

“Kugo?” You asked softly, hesitantly stroking along his fin. “Kugo, what’s wrong?”

“You’re the best thing life has ever given me. Please don’t leave. Please.”

You made a soft, wounded sound. You kneeled slowly, and took his face in your hands. Kugo leaned into your touch like a man who had been starved of affection his whole life. You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Kugo, I’m going to need you to speak plainly, so I’m sure I don’t misunderstand. What’s going on?”

His large hands came up, taking both your hands in his.

“I’m an idiot.”

You snorted and tilted your head, confused. He met your gaze as he continued.

“I’m an idiot and I love you.”

You inhaled sharply, looking at him in disbelief. He pulled the crumpled, bloodstained handkerchief from his pocket.

“I’m an idiot because I love you and yet I never even noticed that you loved me too. You showed me every day. You knew I like eggs just as much as fish. You cared enough to make them cute. You gave me extra sweets on days when I was working a double shift. I loved every bento you made me. I have every note saved. And I might be an idiot, but I’d be an even bigger idiot if I let you go without saying something. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I love you and please don’t go.”

“Kugo.” You smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I already promised I’d go.”

Kugo inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes lowering to the floor.

“But,” you used your hands to lift his chin. His gaze snapped back to yours. “It’s just for six months. Six months, and then I’ll be right back here. With you.”

“With me?”

“Mmhmm.” You gave his nose a quick peck. “Always. You’re the best man I know. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world for me.”

Kugo groaned and pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. From here, although it was very faint, he could smell your soothing scent. “You can’t say things like that and then tell me I can’t have you here for six months!”

You chuckled as you hugged him close. “Well, we have two weeks before I leave. We have a little time. And once I’m back? We’ll have all the time in the world.”

“Even that won’t be enough time to spend with you.”

“Dork.”

He hummed his agreement. “But it’s true. Eternity would be enough time to spend with you.” Before you could protest, he pulled you in for a gentle, but determined kiss.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 19}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Well, we promised a chapter today, so we decided to follow through on that. Even if we did post a surprise chapter last night. Oh, well. Enjoy! 🙃✨

Cassian sighed as he opened his eyes.

Another year older, another year wiser.

Well.

Another year older, anyway.

He blinked as he looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 7:58. Two minutes before his alarm would have gone off.

He hated when that happened, when his mind woke him up just before his alarm went off. There was no time to go back to sleep, it was perfect sleeping time wasted.

It was bullshit.

With a yawn, Cassian swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. He stumbled to his dresser and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, just in time for his alarm to go off.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, quickly turning it off before flinging open his bedroom door.

It smelled delicious.

He meandered down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Nesta was icing a giant cake.

Her eyes darted to his.

He blinked.

“Get out!” she ordered.

“What the hell are you-.”

“Out!” she ordered, yet again.

Nyx babbled something at the top of his lungs that closely resembled, YEAH!

He did as he was told, blearily blinking as he stumbled back into the living room. He dragged a hand down his face. “Can I at least have some coffee?”

“In a minute!” She called and he heard quick footsteps, followed by the back door opening and closing. It opened again and she said, breathlessly, “Okay. You can come in now.”

Tentatively, Cassian rounded the corner and he found Nesta placing a platter of cinnamon rolls on the counter in place of the—

“Where did the cake go?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Nesta was lifting a cinnamon roll onto each of the plates in front of her, cutting the one for Nyx into tiny bites for him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He blinked again, half-wondering if he’d imagined the decorated monstrosity he’d seen on the counter, but he sniffed, smelling the air again.

It mostly smelled like the sweet and spicy scent of cinnamon, but—

No, that was definitely cake he smelled.

“Right…” he said, pulling forks out of the silverware drawer and setting one next to each plate. “You’re up early.”

“Had a lot to do before renovations start this morning. I’m meeting Helion and the contractor at the restaurant at nine.” She sipped her own coffee, not looking at him. Mixing truth and lies, it seemed, since he knew she was meeting the contractor this morning. As for a lot to do, he knew everything at the restaurant was already taken care of. She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up so early either.”

Cutting into the gooey cinnamon roll, he said, “I gotta be at the bar in an hour. I’m talking with Kallias this morning before my shift starts.”

She set her coffee down and finally looked at him. “You have to work today?”

“Yeah,” he replied, popping the bite of pastry into his mouth. He resisted the urge to moan. “It’s Tuesday. I always work on Tuesdays.”

She hesitated, deciding whether she should speak or not. “But it’s your birthday.”

He couldn’t stop his smirk. He knew there had been a cake.

“And who told you that?” He asked, leaning over to wipe Nyx’s face off. The poor kid had icing all over his face, all the way up into his hair.

“That’s not important,” she said.

“Elain, then,” Cassian went on with a grin.

Nesta pretended like she hadn’t heard him and took a giant bite of her cinnamon roll.

“I’ll take Nyx with me to the bar,” Cassian said. “Viviane texted. She has the stomach flu.”

Nesta cringed. “That sucks. I...wait - you’re taking a baby to a bar?”

Cassian shrugged. “He’ll be fine. I only have to stay until two or so.”

“A baby,” she repeated, blinking. “To a bar.”

“You prefer to take him into a construction zone?” Cassian asked. “One that you’re in charge of? That sounds stressful.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I can ask Elain to watch-.”

“I’m taking him with me and he’ll be fine,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “I promise.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. And he held up both hands. “I promise,” he repeated.

“Fine. But call me if you need to and I’ll come get him,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll be in my office most of the day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around in a construction zone.”

“And I’ll take the carrier and physically wear him all day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around the actual bar.”

Nesta groaned. “Fine. Fine. But take the pack-n-play, his monitor and toys. He can entertain himself well enough.”

“Okay,” Cassian nodded, finishing off his cinnamon roll. He pulled Nyx out of his high chair, who was now playing with and wearing most of his food, rather than eating it, and said, “I’ll give him a bath while you get ready.”

“Okay.” He was nearly in the living room when he heard, “Cass?” He turned and looked back at her, still not completely used to the familiar nickname from her. She was blushing slightly. “Happy birthday.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks,” and turned to head up the stairs.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

*

“Any birthday plans?”

“You’re looking at it.”

Kallias chuckled as he observed Cassian, a wiggly baby strapped to his chest, counting the liquor bottles that lined the wall.

“How old are you anyway?” he continued, wiping down the bartop. “Thirty? Thirty-one?”

“You wound me,” Cassian muttered, scribbling a number down on his clipboard, not bothering to tell Kallias just how close to thirty he was getting to.

“I would say we should do shots to celebrate your big day,” Kallias began, taking Nyx’s outstretched hand. “But, I think your little housewife would disapprove.”

Cassian snorted. “If Nesta Archeron ever heard you call her such a thing, you’d lose a very important body part.”

“Not interested in that, thank you very much,” he muttered. “She ever gonna stop in, so I can see this terrifying woman you’ve told me about?”

“About that…” Cassian pulled Nyx out of the carrier and carried him into the back office, setting him down in the play pen. Grabbing the baby monitor, he made his way back into the front room.

Kallias looked up from where he was cutting limes at the bar. “About what?”

He leaned a hip on the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nesta is going to be expanding the restaurant, adding a bar. That’s actually where she is right now, why I’ve got the kiddo with me. Didn’t really want him in a construction site.”

“Hot nanny couldn’t keep him?” Kallias asked, grinning.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No, she’s sick. But, uh-.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna be leaving and going over there, managing for her.”

Kallias eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. And I’d like you to come over there with me. Be my assistant manager at the new place.”

Kallias stopped cutting, mid-lime. “You do realize we are two out of five people that work here, right?”

Cassian nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I do. And I also know we can hire more people here.”

Kallias looked back down at his half-cut lime. “Assistant manager, huh?”

“It’s in a great part of town, we’d get amazing tips on top of already being paid more,” Cassian said. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”

“So I’d be stupid to say no, then?” Kallias asked, continuing to cut his limes.

“Incredibly stupid,” Cassian agreed.

Nyx’s happy babbling came through on the baby monitor.

“I’ll think about it,” Kallias said, at last.

“Think about it, then tell me yes, because I’m not going there without you,” Cassian said.

Kallias snorted. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re going, whether I go or not.”

“And why wouldn’t you come with me?” Cassian asked, facing his friend. He and Kallias had worked together for years, since Kallias came in at twenty-one, during his senior year of college. “You want to be stuck in this dive bar forever? I know you. You’re a creature of habit. If I leave you here, you’ll be here for the next twenty years.”

Kallias didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t true. He just shook his head. “I guess we better start interviewing people, then.”

*

The day did not go as planned. Cassian had to stay and help out until nearly five-thirty, and by the time Cassian walked in the front door, Nyx was knocked out cold in his car seat. He gently set it down and unbuckled him, carrying him into the kitchen. It smelled divine, like roasting herbs and cooked veggies, even if he couldn’t see anything radiating the delicious smells.

Nesta was also nowhere in sight, so he took Nyx up to his nursery and laid him down, setting the baby monitor back up where it usually sat. He slipped the screen in his back pocket and made his way back downstairs, hurrying out to his truck to get Nyx’s diaper bag and the folded up playpen.

As he was setting it back up in the living room, he heard the sliding glass door open and close and made sure he was making enough noise to alert Nesta of his presence.

“You’re home,” she said, leaning on the doorway. “Nyx asleep?”

“Out like a light,” he said, tossing the few toys he’d brought with him back into the pen. “He had fun though.”

“Good. Dinner is almost done,” she smiled. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” he sighed and took another deep breath in. “It smells amazing.”

Turning, Nesta walked back into the kitchen. “Steak, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and green beans, and homemade rolls.”

He watched as she took the carrots and green beans out of the oven and placed them next to a plate of steak she must have just brought in from the grill.

Cassian’s mouth was damn near watering.

He looked at the spread as she spooned the mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Nesta tensed, then something like nervous laughter sputtered out of her mouth. “Well, I had to cook red meat for you on your birthday.”

“Does that mean you’ll be having yourself a steak, Archeron?” he asked, taking the full plate from her outstretched hands.

She gave him an amused look. “Hell no. You get both. I have a chicken kabob on the grill.”

Cassian licked his lips as he took his plate to the table. “Consider me a lucky man. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, clearing her throat. She piled her plate high with potatoes and veggies before going onto the deck and coming back with a grilled chicken kabob on her plate. She sat across from him. Cassian’s mouth was already full.

“How is it?” Nesta asked, cutting up a carrot before popping it into her mouth.

“Delicious,” Cassian said, mouth full. “So good.”

“If you don’t slow down, you won’t be able to enjoy the flavor,” Nesta said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t listen. Cassian practically inhaled everything on his plate within minutes.

He moaned, stretching back in his chair before running a hand through his hair. “I must say, Nes, you really outdid yourself.”

“Well, it was the least I could do after you worked and were on baby duty all day,” she said, popping a few green beans in her mouth.

They talked about their days as she finished eating. He told her about Kallias’ agreement to move to the restaurant, she told him about the beginning of construction.

They’d kept half the restaurant open, putting up a temporary wall to keep as much noise and dust out as they could, but the sooner the build was done the better. They both agreed on that.

“So, despite your switch with the cinnamon rolls this morning,” Cassian said from where he sat as she rinsed off their plates, “I’m fairly sure I saw a cake when I came downstairs.”

“Really now,” she said, and he saw the small smile on her face.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “And, you know, I like cake.”

“And why, exactly, would I make you a cake?” She crooned, that little smile remaining.

“Because I’m the world's best roommate and uncle, obviously,” he said.

Nesta laughed as she stood. “Yeah, whatever.”

After exiting through the back door, she returned a moment later with a big, homemade cake.

It was exquisite.

Perfectly decorated and topped with vanilla and buttercream frosting, it read Happy birthday, Cassian!

As Nesta placed it on the countertop, Cassian asked, “Nesta, when the hell did you find time to make this?”

She shrugged. “Stayed up later and got up early. Didn’t have to be too early since you decided to sleep in today, but…” Her words trailed off. “I figured it was the least I could do.”

His mouth tightened, emotion he wasn’t expecting hitting him and he cleared his throat. “You gonna sing to me?” He asked, cracking a joke to break the tension that was slowly growing.

Nesta threw her head back and laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Cassian bit back his retort and the monitor in his back pocket went off, crying coming from upstairs.

“I’ll get him,” she said, standing up. “I’m sure he’s hungry. Will you cut up green beans and carrots for him?”

He nodded, the cake forgotten as he did what he was told, and Nesta returned with a bleary-eyed Nyx a few minutes later.

“Hi buddy,” Cassian said, chuckling at Nyx’s hazy expression. He was already sitting at the table with a plate of cut up food.

The second Nyx saw the display, he was whining and reaching for it.

“Slow down, you need to be buckled into your seat first,” Nesta said, shaking her head.

“I can’t blame him,” Cassian said, as Nyx was strapped into his high chair. “I’m starving when I wake up, too.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Men.”

The second Nyx’s diapered butt hit the seat, he was stuffing his mouth.

“I guess we should wait for him to eat the cake,” Cassian said, looking longingly at the cake.

Nesta chuckled. “No patience?”

“When it comes to homemade baked goods?” Cassian scoffed. “No.”

She snorted, which had Cassian raising an eyebrow. She looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “That was just…cute.”

Nesta didn’t reply, but he swore she could see her cheeks heating as she turned to put the leftovers from dinner away.

Once Nyx’s plate was cleared, Nesta cut three slices of cake. One was barely a sliver, one was mostly icing and one was damn near a quarter of the cake. She took the one with extra frosting for herself, placing the small one in front of Nyx and the larger one in front of Cassian.

Again, Nyx wasted no time scarfing it down. Cassian didn’t either, helping himself to another, much smaller piece afterwards, but not touching it yet.

“You sure you don’t want to sing to me?” He asked, taking a bite of the cake. “It would complete my day.”

Nyx, an impending sugar crash, was already dozing again. Apparently, his day with Uncle Cassian had well and truly worn him out.

She rolled her eyes and wiped the excess cake off of Nyx’s face. Pulling him out of his high chair, she said, “No, I think I’m good.”

“I’m just saying,” Cassian pushed. “If you wanted to really wish me a happy birthday, a song would do.”

Nesta snorted, taking Nyx in her arms and swaying, back and forth. “You’ve never heard me sing.”

“If your singing is as good as your cooking, it must be amazing,” Cassian promised.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Have I told you that you’re full of shit?”

Cassian pretended to debate it. “Maybe once or twice.”

Nesta chuckled, and said no more about it. “Finish your cake, Nazari. This little monster is ready for bed. I’ll put him down. It’s your birthday.”

It wasn’t that putting Nyx to bed was exhausting. Although sometimes it could be a chore, Cassian nodded and took another bite of his cake as Nesta and Nyx disappeared.

In their absence, Cassian cleared his plate.

The cake was delicious.

He knew Nesta was an amazing cook, but didn’t know that her baking skills were just as good. It was the best cake he had ever eaten. He was even considering getting himself a third piece, but decided against it as she rounded the corner back into the kitchen.

She sighed, falling into her chair. “That may have been record time to get him down. He was practically asleep before I’d even pulled the curtains shut.”

“He had a big day,” Cassian said, eyeing the piece of cake on her plate that she hadn’t even touched. “Taught him how to make a mojito. He’s a pro. Maybe we should hire him on at the bar.”

Shaking her head, Nesta cut into her cake and took a bite. She chuckled. “I’m sure that doesn’t violate any labor laws.”

“Nah, we’re his guardians,” Cassian said, waving a hand. “We can certainly get some free labor out of him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.” She took another bite of cake, and Cassian’s eyes dipped to her mouth. He was quiet for long enough that she asked, “What?”

He hesitated but said, “You’ve got a little—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he leaned forward across the small space between them and swiped the frosting that was on the corner of her lips away with his thumb.

Nesta didn’t move.

She didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop touching her, either.

Cassian’s thumb lingered against her lips, and when she looked up, he was already watching her, quietly.

She opened her mouth to say something.

What? She wasn’t sure.

But, when her lips moved, Cassian’s did, too.

He kissed her, softly, slowly, and Nesta melted right into it.

[mackeydoodledoo]

The Blacksmith Chpt. 1

Pairing: Dimitrescus x (Fem!)Reader/Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You are a human, a human who is in charge of the armory; polishing, blacksmithing you name it. You are strongly valued by the Dimitrescu family, specifically one that has strawberry-blonde hair. She’d always come visit you whenever you’d be working on a new piece of armor or weapon. 

Warnings: Fight; ends slightly bloody, Fluff at the end

A/N: So, I’m obsessed with armor n such and hearing that there’s an armory when you fight Cassandra.... So, we are making a story about a Blacksmith falling for one of the Dimitrescu daughters!

----------------------------------------------------------------

You wipe the sweat from your forehead as you dip the blade you’ve been working on that Heisenberg had requested into a barrel of water. 

“Is it just hot in here or is that just you?” A familiar voice flirts at you

You place the now cooled blade down onto a table as you turn to see Daniela standing in the doorway, checking you out. You wipe more sweat off your forehead. You notice Daniela giggling.

“What?” You ask

“You got a little something there-” Daniela says, “Here, I’ll get it.”

Daniela takes out a white handkerchief from one of her pockets and wipes your forehead, noticing the black smudge now left on it. Your eyes widen in embarrassment. However you just watch Daniela smell your sweaty scent on her handkerchief.

“You know my sweat is on there right?” You could only ask

“I know,” Daniela moans from your scent left on her handkerchief, “Your scent smells so good.”

You blush at the compliment.

“Oh the little baby is blushing,” Daniela says, “I make everyone blush.”

“Oh- it’s just because-it’s just because it’s hot in here,” You say, trying to play it off

“Sure little baby,” Daniela whispers, “Will I see you for dinner tonight love?” 

You nod, not being able to have any words come out of your mouth. She lets out another giggle and makes her exit however, Heisenberg rolls in before Daniela could make her leave.

“Uncle Heisenberg!” Daniela smiles, hugging him

“How’s my niece doing?” He asks

You watch Daniela take her leave from the armory. However, coming back to reality, you grab the blade you have been working on and present it to him.

“My liege,” You greet Heisenberg, “The end result as of right now. If this is the shape you’re going for, then I’ll hop right onto the final stages of its production.”

Heisenberg requested for a longsword. However, as it had required for you to smelt more metal for the sword itself, you had to use a full armor set to melt it down to the mold of the blade, as much as you had been against the idea. However, Alcina had given the entire armory at your disposal. However, it did not help that you had to use one of your own metals rather than Heisenberg giving you some to make the longsword with. You have made the hilt of the sword when he first commissioned the sword to be made.  

“Your work is as great as ever y/n,” He smiles, “Do what you must, but make sure to have it ready by the same time the day after tomorrow.”

He takes his leave from the armory.

Tomorrow night?! But that’ll mean- I told Lady Daniela that I-... It can’t be helped I guess...

Almost immediately you took the dull blade and went over to the sander to sharpen it and polish it from its outer crust, slowly forgetting your agreement with Daniela about joining her and her family for supper.

At the dinner table, Daniela continuously looked into the seat next to her; empty. She had told her sisters and mother she’d invite the blacksmith to supper however, you were still cooped up in your armory room.

“Dani, you haven’t touched your food at all,” Cassandra states, but quietly, “It’s gonna get cold if you don’t eat it.”

“I’ve asked y/n to join us for dinner,” Daniela sulks, “She’s always so coped up in the armory. I’m kind of getting tired of bringing her food..”

“Heisenberg is really working that poor girl,” Alcina sighs, “That fool... He’s ‘tech-savvy’ they call it? Why couldn’t he just do it himself?”

“Y/n is the best blacksmith, It kind of makes sense why he’d ask for y/n,” Bela states, “That is why we hired her personally as well mother did we not?”

“Oh you are most correct,” Alcina agrees with her eldest daughter, “It’s just she’s been cooped up in there for so long. I’d hate for someone as young as her be burning the midnight oil for one single sword...”

“I’ll go check on her after supper I guess,” Daniea says, shamefully, “I apologize for this mother...”

“There is no need for an apology my daughter,” Alcina reassures her youngest daughter

Daniela just weakly smiles and then goes to dig into the meal that had been prepped in front of her

You didn’t realize how much time has gone by until you hear knocking at the doorframe. 

“Oh, lady Daniela,” You clear your throat, removing your gloves to air out the sweat and then tearing your eyes away from your work to make eye contact with Daniela, “My apologies, I missed supper... Heisenberg needs this new blade done by-”

She puts the plate of food on a nearby table as she begins to walk toward you. You’ve truly felt bad however, you’ve been working on this item for weeks, you couldn’t just simply ‘take a break’ for it.

“There’s one reason why I wanted you to come to supper y/n,” Daniela interrupts you, “You need to get out of here and more importantly- let me see you out of this work outfit of yours..”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, your throat go dry and your legs becoming jelly. You’ve mostly worn simple ripped skinny jeans, a short-sleeve shirt; the sleeves rolled up to your shoulders and one of those aprons blacksmiths wear while they work with molten metal. You also worn gloves whilst working in the armory, showing off your toned arms from the blacksmithing you do non-stop. 

“I’m no one special my lady,” You sigh, wiping sweat from your forehead again, “I’m just the blacksmith.”

“Whose created all of this amazing armor,” Daniela states, gesturing to the entire room full of armor and weapons

“Coming from a long line of blacksmiths is one perk,” You say, “But, I’m just a human, like every other human in the world.”

You could hear footsteps coming even closer into your direction. A pair of hands are forcefully placed on your shoulder and you’re physically turns into Daniela’s close proximity.

“You listen to me now y/n,” Daniela almost snarls, “You are an amazing Blacksmith. Otherwise my sisters and mother would have had you for supper already. I believe you are one of the greatest people to be working in this castle, consider it to be a privilege to be working so closely to us.”

She leans close to your ear, making you shiver, “To be working so closely to me.”

A shiver is sent down your spine. You needed to burn the midnight oil for this weapon for Heisenberg, should Daniela continue to tease you like this. 

“My my, your heart is beating pretty fast love,” She whispers once more, “You’re welcome...”

You feel a finger trace your jawline, however, you feel a slight pain in your jaw as you look down and felt something wet along down your neck.

“Oh-oopsies,” Daniela says, flirting heavily

“Not funny,” You groan from the pain

“Oh-oh it’s dripping,” She continues to flirt, “I’ll get it.”

You let out a small gasp as you felt the tip of Daniela’s tongue gently run along the blood trail. She traces the blood from the thin skin of your neck to the bone of your jawline. She guides her hands to wrap around her neck. You coil one hand into her hair to keep her steady as you let out yet another gasp.

“Yes, my lovely,” Daniela whispers, “Continue making that music for me...” 

Before you let out another gasp, you push her away form your neck slightly to look at her. You look down at her lips and then back up to her eyes, asking for permission. However, you stop yourself when the both of you heard the Lady Dimitrescu calling for Daniela.

“Curses,” She mumbles under her breath just as her lips were about to crash onto yours, “My my you taste divine. Until next time.”

With hast she makes her exit, turning into a swarm of flies in the process. You sit there, trying to process what just happened. However, you couldn’t linger on the thought any longer as you were just about to start the leatherwork on the hilt before Daniela began distracting you. 

I wouldn’t call it a bad thing if she distracted me though... It was only for a couple of minutes and... It was... Enjoyable...

You couldn’t believe a Dimitrescu daughter had taken a liking to you. You were a simple human from a long line of the finest blacksmiths. Why you? Of all people, you weren’t special. However, someway somehow the youngest Dimitrescu was enticing to you. 

I have no such time for a relationship... Besides... Lady Daniela has many other maidens to choose from... Am I even a choice to be one of their... What was it that they call them? ‘Plaything’? Yeah... Am I? Oh well, but it looks like I have to burn midnight oil again. Nothing that I don’t already experience though...

Your eyes are heavily concentrated on the leather work you’re doing on the handle. However, you could easily feel your eyes grow heavy. But, you knew you couldn’t waste time like you did earlier. 

“Sir Heisenberg won’t be pleased if he catches me passed out at the table,” You sigh

You take a deep breath and shake off your tiredness and continue working on the leather handle.

By the time you finally finished the handle you take a step back to admire the work you had done

“Not a bad job if I do say so myself,” You smile

 you were sketching out the design for the sheath. The sheath itself will be crafted with the thickest leather. Leather you’d normally use for sheaths; it’s so that the sheath’s won’t tear apart then the sword is sharpened. You’d also press in an intricate design you had crafted earlier when you were taking a break from the leather work.

“I guess I can close my eyes for a couple of minutes while I wait for this to ...” You tell yourself 

Oh how wrong you were.... Unfortunately you didn’t catch it fast enough. By the time you had realized you took more than a couple of minutes, you were fast asleep.

The next morning you could feel a pair of lips on the bone of your cheek. When you opened your eyes you could easily tell it was Daniela.

“Morning sleepy head,” She whispers

She puts the plate of human food right next to you. The aroma of the food gets you to feel more awake. 

“Can I ask you something?” Daniela asks, looking at you with pleading eyes

“Mhm,” You reply with food in your mouth

“I was wondering if you could make me one of those daggers you place on your thigh,” She requests, “But-but if that’s too much right now you could always do it after you finish-”

“I’ll do it,” You answer clearly, “The blade for Heisenberg isn’t due until tomorrow so I’ll be able to do it.”

She squeals of excitement and wraps her arms around you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You hug her back.

The first form of physical affection after awhile... This is nice

She lets go of you, but continues smiling.

“Design is solely up to you,” she says calmly, “I really want you to make it how you want to.”

You nod as Daniela takes the now empty plate from your hands. You watch her walk out from your armory you immediately jump into your closet and pull out a thick gauged metal sheet.

“Since when did you become so jittery in the morning?” A voice asks you

You let out a yelp and drop the sheet metal. You quickly turn your heel to see who it was.

“Lady Bela,” You sigh, re-composing yourself, “You really scared me there. Good lord...”

“I can do more than just scare you,” Bela chuckles, “But Daniela would be at my throat for that so consider yourself lucky.”

You see her forming into her swarm of flies. You couldn’t process what she was doing until she was up in your face.

“You hurt my baby sister, there will be hell to pay, got it?” She says, almost growling

Your throat catches something; thus, you couldn’t form any words. However, you only nod.

“Good,” She says

She dissipates into her swarm and leaves the armory. You just stand in your place for a second before picking the metal sheet back up.

You finally found yourself outside of the armory for once. If it weren’t for Daniela dragging your ass out of there you wouldn’t really be there. However, it was a silent supper for you. You really couldn’t find a way to strike up conversation with the Dimitrescu’s.

“I know you’ve been here a long time y/n, but how are you liking it?” Alcina asks, nervously

“You know, to be honest, It’s a lot nicer than where I used to live,” You smile slightly, “Yeah, I might be having a workload right now but- It’s nothing new to me.”

Alcina sighs in relief. Not knowing how to continue the conversation, you drop your head back down into your plate and continue eating. Alcina had made some arrangements so that the maids and yourself can have nutrients from human food.

After supper, you beeline it back for the armory to start on Daniela’s requested garter dagger. You didn’t have much experience in textiles, so you requested one of the maids who was more experienced in such do it for you. 

“Thanks Amelia,” You say, gently taking the newly sewn garter, “I got everything else. That’s all.”

“Lady Daniela really requested for this?” She asks

“Yeah,” you say, “Interesting though right?”

“That’s one way to put it,” She says, “Be careful.”

“You too.” You say

You wipe sweat off of your forehead as you finally break your concentration on the sharpening blade. Once it had reached a certain sharpness, you begin the polishing stage.

“Finished, and now..” You talk to yourself

Although you’ve never encrusted a weapon with many gems; you only had experience with one gem going on a weapon. However, it was Lady Daniela, so you wanted to make it look like the prettiest dagger in the whole castle, prettier than all the weapons and armor you have created. You take out a special cannister and begin organizing the blue-green gem from all of the other colored gems.

You found yourself outside of Daniela’s chambers however, you weren’t sure if she was even there or out somewhere in the castle. But, you place the weapon down right in front of the bottom of the door and knock as loudly but as gently as possible and you beeline it for the shadows. From a distance, you watch the door open and see Daniela; in a nightgown. It was the first time you’ve seen Daniela without her regular dark robe and hood up in her face. 

“Oh my god...” Daniela says in awe as she picks up the weapon, “Y/n...”

She tries to look around for you however doesn’t spot you on sight.

“Thank you...” She blushes as she closes the door

You blush a deep red as you turn your back to her door to head back into the armory to try and finish up Heisenberg’s weapon.

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

--------------------------------------

Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

----------------------------------------------

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

-

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax

[arc852]

A Companion for Loneliness 1/2

Summary: Tommy is lonely, so Phil takes the advice of Tommy’s therapist and gets him a pet.

Warnings: Dehuminization (treating people like pets)

Word Count:  2234

__________________________________________________________

 Phil hung up the phone and let out a long sigh, hanging his head. The call from his boss, about having to work longer hours, was a good thing money wise. Especially since his boss guaranteed he’d be paid overtime for the longer hours. What it wasn’t good for was his son.

 Now Tommy was old enough to take care of himself. The fifteen year old reminded him of that everyday, calling himself a big man and other such similar things. But, though Tommy didn’t admit it, Phil knew that he got lonely when Phil was out all day and night at his job. And especially now that it was summer, Tommy no longer had school to distract him from that loneliness. 

 Phil was hoping to spend more time with Tommy during the summer but with his increase in hours, that wasn’t going to be possible. It wouldn’t be so bad if Tommy had friends to hang out with but…

 Of course, that wasn’t Tommy’s fault. But it made Phil feel even worse about not being able to be there for his son.

 His phone rang again, pulling Phil out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID before answering it. “Hey Puffy,” Tommy’s therapist was a wonderful young woman and had helped Tommy a lot. Tommy didn’t see her as often anymore but Puffy always made sure to call every once in a while to see how things were going. Phil appreciated it and he knew Tommy did too.

 “Hey Mr. Minecraft! Just checking in. How is Tommy doing? Summer should be starting soon, right?” Puffy asked, cheerful as always. 

 “Yeah, it just started actually. And Tommy’s...good.” The silence he received made Phil wince.

 “And how is Tommy actually doing?” Puffy asked, tone softer this time. Phil sighed. He really couldn’t get anything past Puffy. Not that he was really trying to but still.

 “He is doing well at the moment but I just received some news from my work. I...They need me to put in extra hours. The money will be great for us but--” He was cut off.

 “But Tommy will be left all alone.”

 Phil shut his eyes, using his free hand to rub at them. “Yeah. For the most part. And I hate doing that to him but there really isn’t anything I can do about it.”

 “...Have you thought about getting Tommy a pet?” Puffy said suddenly and Phil opened his eyes again, blinking.

 “A pet?”

 “Yeah, ya know, a companion to keep Tommy company and distracted while you're gone. Pets are wonderful for that sort of thing.” Puffy explained. Phil had never thought about that before, mostly because he never really cared for having a pet in the first place. But if it was to help Tommy…

 “So, should I get him a dog? Or would a cat be better? A hamster?” What pet would be best for Tommy?

 “Actually, for Tommy, I was thinking more along the lines of a borrower.”

 “A borrower?” Phil didn’t pay much attention to things happening around the world but even he had heard about the discovery of borrowers several years ago. They were huge back then but the hype had died down over the years. They were still fairly popular but the novelty had long since worn off. “Why a borrower for Tommy?”

 “Well, unlike other pets, they can actually have conversations with us.” Puffy said and, well, she had a really good point there. “It might be good for Tommy to be able to talk with someone. My nephew recently got his own pet borrower and he loves him and my son has had one for years. They make great companions, in ways a dog or cat can’t be. I think one would be perfect for Tommy.”

 Phil had been nodding along, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. It really did sound perfect. A pet that would not only distract Tommy but one he could also speak to and hang out with. 

 “I think I’ll take you up on your advice Puffy, thank you so much.” Phil could hear the smile on Puffy’s face as he spoke back.

 “That’s what I’m here for! Literally. Anyway, let me know how it goes and I wish you luck in picking one out for Tommy. Oh and I would stick to males when picking out a borrower and either around Tommy’s age or a bit older. It’ll hopefully make it easier for Tommy to connect with a borrower like that.”

 Phil nodded despite knowing Puffy couldn’t see him. “Thank you Puffy. Talk to you later.”

 “Bye Mr. Minecraft!” And with that, Puffy hung up. Phil placed his phone down on his desk, feeling better about the whole situation. He glanced at the time and went to grab his keys.

 He started working again tomorrow, so he might as well go out and get Tommy that borrower while he could.

***

 Phil entered the pet store, looking around to try and see where they kept their borrowers. He must have looked as lost as he felt though, as an employee came up to him with a smile on her face. Her name tag read Niki. 

 “Hello sir, is there anything I could help you with today?” Her voice was cheerful and authentic. It made Phil smile.

 “Yes, actually. Um, I’m here to buy my fifteen year old son a borrower.” Phil said and he almost missed the way Niki shifted and tensed up slightly at the mention of a borrower. But as quickly as it came it went and Niki was back to her relaxed self. Phil must have imagined it.

 “Of course! Right this way, I’ll show you our selection of borrowers.” Niki started walking towards the back of the store and Phil followed, looking down the aisles as they passed them. Finally, Niki turned into one and Phil followed, seeing the rows of cages filled with borrowers. Though, there weren't as many as Phil would have first thought.

 “Our selection in this store is a little small but you should be able to find one here.” Niki said with a smile. Phil glanced around at the cages, biting his lip at all the choices. How was he supposed to pick?

 “You said this was for your son, right?” Niki chimed in again and Phil’s gaze landed back on her as he nodded.

 “Yeah, my job is keeping me extra long this summer and my son...doesn’t really have any friends. He gets lonely, though he won’t admit it, and I feel bad for leaving him. His therapist is the one who suggested I get him a borrower, actually.” Phil explained.

 “I see.” Niki hummed. Phil noticed how her gaze had softened though it was weird considering Phil hadn’t noticed her tense before. “Well, I have to go back to the front but there are a few borrowers in that last cage at the end of the aisle that might catch your eye.” She pointed at said cage, gave Phil a smile and then walked past him to head back up to the front.

 Phil watched her go and then turned back towards the cage she had pointed at. He headed over that way, glancing into the cage once he came upon it. There were about five in this one cage and Phil looked them all over. A couple seemed to simply ignore him, while one seemed to try and make itself smaller and another refused to even look at him.

 The fifth one though, was actually actively glaring at him. 

 Phil blinked, meeting that one's gaze. It was hard to make out the finer details of his face from the corner he was sitting in but he was clearly tall for a borrower, or at least, compared to the others in the cage with him, and his hair sat in a similar way to Tommy’s but was brown instead of blond.

 In fact, though Phil couldn’t quite place why, this borrower reminded him a lot of Tommy right off the bat. Maybe it was the fire behind that glare or even just the hair, but it was there and Phil couldn’t ignore it.

 “Hello mate,” He said in greeting, smiling softly and ignoring the glare. The borrower jumped slightly but his glare only hardened. “What’s your name?” 

 “F*** off.” The borrower spat out and Phil’s eyes widened. He was reminded of Tommy more by the second. 

 Well, that had been easier than Phil thought.

 He stood up straight and walked away, ignoring the confused look the borrower had sent him. When he came back with Niki, the borrower’s eyes widened and he hurried to a stand. “Oh f*** no.”

 “I had a feeling you’d take a liking to Wilbur.” Niki said with a smile towards Phil.

 “Wilbur?” Phil asked for clarification and Niki nodded.

 “That’s his name. Wilbur Soot, 22 years old. He was caught and brought into this pet store around 6 months ago.” Niki explained and then turned her attention to said borrower. “Hey Wilbur, it looks like today is the day.”

 Wilbur shook his head, looking panicked. “N-No! What the hell, Niki?!”

 Phil glanced between the two, confused. Niki let out a little sigh and sent a sad smile towards Phil. “Sorry, he’s just nervous.” She turned back to Wilbur. “Trust me Wil, this will be good for you.” Phil watched as she reached in and wrapped her hand around the borrower. Said borrower squirmed and tried to fight his way out of the grip but it proved fruitless. Niki brought him out of the large cage, only to place him into the smaller one she had brought with her from the front.

 Once he was locked inside, he was handed over to Phil. “Alright, let’s go and get the payment all settled.” Niki said and Phil nodded, following her once again back towards the front. He handed his card over once Niki took to the register and Niki started the payment process.

 “Were you getting anything else today?” Niki asked, she was still smiling but it was a little less wide than before. Phil blinked at the question, glancing down at the borrower in the small cage. He was still being glared at but now the little guy was curled in on himself near the center of the cage.

 “Um...should I be getting something else? Sorry, this was sort of a last minute thing. What exactly do borrowers need?” Phil asked, feeling sheepish at his lack of knowledge. Thankfully, Niki’s understanding gaze made him feel better.

 “Well, honestly, they don’t need a lot. Or, at least, they don’t need a lot of things that you need to buy. They eat human food just fine, so no need to waste money on that. I would recommend a borrower bed for him to sleep in though. And a collar for if he gets lost but those aren’t required.” Niki explained and Phil nodded along. 

 “That sounds good. Could you throw in a borrower bed and I’ll go ahead and take the collar too.” Phil said and Niki nodded, fetching the items and placing them in a small bag. She then rang up the order and Phil was hesitant to see the price. But when it appeared on screen his eyes widened. It wasn’t nearly as much as he would have thought.

 “Here you go.” She handed over the bag, which Phil took and picked back up the cage that he had placed on the counter.

 “Thank you so much for your help.” Phil said and Niki grinned.

 “Of course, if you need anything again, I’m happy to help!” They waved goodbye and then Phil was out the door.

 He got into his car but hesitated placing Wilbur down into the front seat. He looked down at the borrower, noticing how the little guy hadn’t moved much from his earlier position but now he seemed to be refusing to look at him. He looked sad and it made Phil’s heart melt just a little bit. 

 “Hey mate,” He spoke and Wilbur’s head snapped up to look at him. The glare was back but it was less intense this time, another emotion that Phil couldn’t quite pinpoint getting in the way of the heat. “Just thought I should explain. I’m getting you for my son, Tommy. He’s fifteen and doesn’t have any friends. His therapist suggested I get him a borrower, so here we are.”

 Wilbur’s expression dropped and Phil suddenly felt the need to reassure him. “Don’t worry though, Tommy is a good kid and I’m sure he’ll love you. You’ll be just fine.” Satisfied with that amount of reassurance, Phil put Wilbur’s cage down and locked it into place with the seatbelt, just in case.

 Once he was sure the cage and the borrower inside were secure, Phil started up the car. He glanced at the time and hummed to himself. “Should probably pick up some dinner on the way home.” He’d pick up Tommy’s favorite, to try and further ease the pain the news of him working extra hours would bring. Hopefully the food and the new pet will be enough for Tommy.

 “Don’t worry mate, we’ll be home soon.” He spoke aloud to Wilbur again, for some extra reassurance before backing out of the parking space and rolling out of the parking lot.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Poly!Frason x Reader || Headcanons

Topic: Just SFW headcanons for them- I may add a second part with all the angst stuff I can think of but not yet! ^^ This could be considered romantic or platonic, you choose. ^^

Warnings: This is mostly comedy XD A little mention of the men trynna eat your pet kitty cat tho. This whole thing is set in a time post FVSJ but Freddy has got his body back somehow.

First of all- You went and decided you wanted the wolf AND the hunter and I applaud you for it.

Second of all, I have no patience hahah. So we are skipping over 'how' in the world this happened- Just know it took a while to get them to cope with each others' existences but you've figured it out for the most part. I mean neither of them can help themselves every now and then, yeeting the other across the camp or bullshitting from the mouth but!- its an improvement XD

Boy these two know nothing about boundaries. You must be a saint. Jason will lose (what's left of) his mind, if you so much as spend a weekend back at your place in the city. Don't bother reupping your rent babe cuz a couple hours outta the camp is his limit. And Freddy disregards personal space and your comfort levels on a regular. They are his comfort levels, now. Be warned.

Jason has a new sense (A 7th, if you will. Cuz we all know his sixth is sniffing out horny behaviour) and these are the 'Y/N's leaving the safety of the cabin tingles'. He'll come a running when he feels them and catch you just with the flat of one foot not even yet touching the grassy ground but definitely looking guilty as can be, like... 'Oh... Oops?'.

Freddy loves it and will go out of his way to make it happen. Getting snacks you like and leaving them out just out of reach from you (As you're on the porch) so you have to inch out of bounds in order to retrieve them ("Mmmm, look at this delicious, freshly campfire cooked bowl of mac and cheese. Its too bad I don't actually want it myself! Such a shame it's going to go to waste... Oh? You want it this Y/N? No problem! I'll just leave it right... here, for ya!" // "I hate you.") or bursting in all panicked and saying quickly, that there's a bear! And we need to go now! Just for there to be no bear, of course, except for Jason, and Freddy's standing there with a video camera he stole from some campers.

"Jason! I didn't mean to- Really!- no- But- Really, it was Fre- Oof." *You cross your arms pouting as Jason plops you back down inside the cabin.*

He does not care for your excuses Y/N, just for the love of god and the sake of his anxiety- STAY INSIDE.

Now, if any of the campers were to find you, supposedly safe in the cabin... well, Jason is missing that sense. Its an unfortunate loophole. LUCKILY, though, Freddy is rarely far away. He knows in his mortal form he doesn't hold up much against groups of teenagers and so is in much the same situation as you, being vulnerable (Therefore its a better strategy for him to stick with you- tag team). But you two have some contingency plans for times like these when you're in danger, so don't you worry.

Like Booby Traps! You have a few of them in and around the cabin (Like the classics- foot nooses that end up with the poor soul hanging upside down *cough* where freddy finishes them off *cough*, bear traps *cough* Jason occasionally gets stuck in these but he just goes on walking around with it like its nothing. You have to ask him to stop so you can take it off gently for him *cough*, etc. I know nothing about booby traps sorry). And if those don't work, you pretend to be a hostage (A non-consenting one) to lead the soon-to-be victim into a false sense of security just long enough for Freddy to sneak in and get them from behind.

You get to introduce them to modern things! Cuz like, remember, both these men are old, okay? They are in their 70's. They still think apple is just a food.

You show them music when you can get your hands on a campers phone until it loses charge, movies on a little portable DVD player, and books (Yes, I think Jason can read. He was 11 when he died. He probably just needs practise now and to get back into the rhythm- then he'll improve fast ^^ I like to think he likes reading and writing! And is a stickler for grammar. Like, Freddy uses abbreviations and Jason gets so annoyed.). Also different sexualities and gender identifications! ("Like, for example, since Freddy likes women and men, then he may be bisexual or pansexual, depending on how important biological identity is to him. Or aromantic, too! That means you don't feel romantic attraction. And Jason- since you don't want anything to do with sex- you might be Asexual! Only if you want to identify though, you can go without a label too if you want- " // Calm down Y/N neither of them really care. Jason is just Jason and Freddy is just slutty)

OODIES FOR ALL.

You also discuss games... and of course Dead By Daylight comes up... And... "Oh, its super cool! It has a whole buncha really cool original killers, but also quite a few well-known Horror Villains and Slashers! Like Bubba and Michael! And... and... " *Slowly you realise Jason isn't in it... and get awkward... and quiet. Slamming your mouth shut*

Freddy: "Am I in it??"

You: Ow- oh, uh- in, in a manner of speaking...

You give them both a 'Which Divergent Faction Do You Belong In?' quiz and Freddy thinks he's a Dauntless but he's a Candor XD Jason is Dauntless. Also, of course, Hogwarts Houses.

I can imagine them starting a collection of Pop Funkos if they could- its too cute and I'm gonna die with this headcanon.

I feel like... no matter how 'sweet' we tend as a fandom to characterise Jason... if you got a pet... both he and Freddy would be vying to eat the thing. Come on! You're in the middle of a forest living off junk food left behind by campers, and leaves- and its not camping season. Hand over the cat, its eat time, nom nom.

I feel that this goes without saying, but Jason is the mature one.

You and Freddy make up games to pass the time.

When you're sad and don't care to be cheered up, Jason's got it. He'll sit for hours with you in his lap, your head on his chest until you feel better or you fall asleep.

You wash up in the lake and Jason plays bodyguard for you ^^

[cdroloisms]

Sooo... how about that reveal that c!Sam wasn’t feeding c!Dream? I mean, we all knew it was coming, but still. The auto food dispenser probably broke or smtg bc when c!Sam came down, c!Dream asked if he was there to give them potatoes. (Also with him being shaken up by learning c!Tommy is alive, c!Sam might not remember or care to feed c!Dream, who has none of his stores of potatoes left.) So, assuming the dispenser is broken and he doesn’t know, why would he come down in the first place? 🟩⛏?

hello anon !! yeah that reveal ,, dang, we already knew that c!sam had presumably been starving c!dream, but to see not only c!dream but c!sam confirm it as well as it having lasted AT LEAST a week ,, d a n g . they are Not pulling any punches in this arc (which, i mean, judging on the q stream, isnt exactly surprising anymore,, but still)

in the prison guard stream, we see how the dispenser works - it’s not automatic as much as it’s remote, as c!sam or the prison guards still need to press a button in order to dispense food. he also says “i havent even been around to feed the prisoner” or something along those lines in tommy’s stream, so we can conclude that the decision to deprive c!dream of food after c!tommy’s death is INTENTIONAL,, which i mean. again. yikes. 

anyway, here’s a snippet of c!dream finding out that the “automatic” feeder isnt as automatic as he might’ve thought - here, the dispenser + crying obsidian are installed at around the same time, so it’s between bad and sapnap’s visit

tw: starvation, disordered eating, abuse, mental illness, self-hatred, toxic relationship, gaslighting, disturbing imagery, dark content, c!sam/warden!sam critical (again, be careful with the content warnings)

Dream stares up at the hole in the obsidian, barely able to make out a glint of metal in the dark chute. The dispenser, just as expected, doesn’t respond to his glare, refuses to whir and click in the way that indicates food, and Dream bites his tongue, mumbles curses under his breath.

“Prick,” he blows a breath through his gritted teeth, only more irrationally angry when the dispenser, as expected, ignores him. “Some automatic dispenser, Warden.”

The walls don’t respond. Nothing responds, here, besides the dark dark thoughts swirling in his brain, and he thinks he’d prefer it if those didn’t - or maybe he doesn’t, because company is company, even if said company is the same litany of blood anger revenge pain you deserve this you deserve all of this you have destroyed the world now lie in the bed you have made pounding at the base of his skull. He drags his hand down his face; every minute is an hour, and every hour is a minute. Time has no meaning when your only frame of reference is eternity.

Even so, even he can tell that it’s been a long time since he’s had food, even by his usual standards - several days, at least, because the ever-present ache of hunger in his gut had swelled into something angrier, demanding, no longer as easy to ignore. Another stabbing round of pain nearly sends him to his knees, and just as he always he does, he clings to the feeling, gathers it into his hands, grabs it by the edges and directs the sharp edges into the words he spits at the indifferent walls. Let the Warden hear him - what can he possibly do?

Just as it always does, the fury in him peters out, drains, leaves him alone in the middle of his cell. He sinks the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach; a part of him wants to laugh at the irony. Some people think of silence as emptiness, void; he knows now that it’s anything but. Silence is suffocating, thick, so present that anything he says seems to get lost within it seconds after leaving his mouth. It grows and pushes into his limbs, becomes a weight tied around his throat, expands into the air in his lungs like a slowly inflating balloon until it’s pressed into every corner and space of the cell, every corner and space of him, taking up so much room that he can hardly breathe around it.

The hunger hollows him out, and the silence fills the space that’s left; Dream wonders how much more there is for him to lose before he’s completely empty, just a husk filled with the same liquid misery that drips down the walls. He wonders if anyone would care- laughs. As if.

“Dream.” The intercom crackles; Dream perks up at the voice, spine straightening against his will, and his hands tighten into fists as he realizes - prime, how pathetic is he, now? The voice deepens, becomes more insistent. “Prisoner.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Or maybe I’m not; you better come and check, yeah?” A humorless smile tugs at his lips, and a static-filled sigh comes through the speaker.

“This isn’t the time for games, Dream.”

Dream rolls his eyes. It’s not exactly the time to be a dick, either, but you don’t see me complaining. A flutter of something warm, joyful, rises in his chest at the sound of something- someone, other than his own voice, and he strangles it with a hand wrapped around his own throat - he won’t let them break him, won’t let himself become desperate enough to crave the attention of a man that hates him - he won’t- he can’t-

“Do you need something? Or were you yelling at the wall for no reason again?” Sam’s voice is steely, indifferent, on a knife’s edge between apathy and anger. “Don’t waste my time, prisoner.”

Dream bites down the snarky reply sitting on his tongue, breathes in, out through his nose until the fury is no longer blinding.

“Your fancy automatic jig is broken. The potato one. It’s not- working.” The hunger fogs his mind, makes it hard to think. He feels caged and weak and pathetic and he hates it.

“That’s because it’s not automatic.” Footsteps echo on the speakers, Dream tapping along to the rhythm before he realizes and stops himself, and a moment later the familiar whirring and clicking of the metal box comes from behind him and a small pile of potatoes fall down and splash into the water. “There. Is that all?”

Dream feels the fury rise, again, but doesn’t quite to keep the words back, this time.

“So what was the point of the whole automatic feeder, asshole? You’ve changed nothing! What’s the difference between that thing and you coming over to my cell besides that you’ve wasted a couple stacks of redstone? Congratu-fucking-lations, you’re a goddamn genius-”

“It’s remote now, so I don’t have to come into your cell.”

“Oh, so it’s just the good ol’ Warden looking for more ways to make the prisoner suffer, huh? Should’ve figured, you fucking self-righteous prick-”

“Dream.”

His mouth shuts with a click, a flash of fear searing through his muscles, white-hot, and by the time he’s blinked back the ringing in his ears the silence has stolen all the words from him, once again. Pathetic, he screams in his head, but his jaw remains firmly locked in place - the Warden’s won, per usual, and they both know it.

“Is that all?” He sounds impatient. Part of Dream wants nothing more than to never hear his voice again, and the other half of him rails at the idea of being alone with his thoughts once more. All of him hates himself, and all of him hates the silence; they’re the only two constants in this place. “You’ll have to speak up if you want anything.”

“How- long was it, since you last gave food?”

Static for a moment, then another. “It’s only been about a day.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’d know if you took care of your clock instead of destroying it, prisoner.”

“I’d know if you were less of a fucking prick.”

“Behave, and you might get it replaced.” The Warden’s breathing is harsh, almost labored - he must be angrier than Dream thought, then. “Speaking of which, you won’t be getting any for a day after this stunt.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared. It’s not like you don’t do this - what, every other day?”

“Do you want food or not?”

Dream’s teeth grind against each other; he breathes in, out. He hates this, hates the potatoes, hates the Warden, hates himself. Hates the way that a part of him recoils at the thought of making the Warden angry at him, reaches desperately for a chance to earn his clock- his approval. Attachments are weakness, he tells his traitorous heart, knowing that it, as always, will fail to stay away.

“Yes. Thank you.” The pleasantry burns on his tongue, tastes worse than the bitterness of raw potatoes that seems to be the only thing it knows, anymore.

“Good-bye, prisoner. Don’t make me come into the cell.”

The intercom cuts off with a click, the space that the static made immediately filled by silence. Dream watches it blankly, jaw sore from how tight it had been clenched, and begins to work his way through the first potato, nibbling at the pale flesh just enough to tide over the worst of the pain.

This is fine, he tells himself, and the walls stare at him impassively. He’s not sure they believe him.

He’s not sure how much longer he can believe himself.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidentally Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 6 | Having a bit too fun with our charming Captain America?

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: As Molly and Chris become friends, Tom becomes jealous and makes a terrible mistake. 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

-

Tom came home carrying an enormous bouquet of lilies and roses he purchased on the way home. He bubbled with anxiety and excitement. His talk with Benedict had done him wonders. Until he opened the door to an empty house. He called out for Molly a few times but got no response. There was also no note. He slumped in a kitchen chair. His phone buzzed.

I’m on my way home. Sorry I didn’t leave a note. Hope you aren’t worried. I promise I’m fine!

Tom smiled at the message. He didn’t know why, but something gnawed at the back of his mind. He scrambled to his feet as he overheard the door opening.

“Tom?” Molly yelled into the house.

“In the kitchen, darling!” He fidgeted with the flowers behind his back. As he stared at the floor, a wide grin grew on his face.

“Molly, I…” His face fell as Evans walked in behind Molly.

“Look who stopped by and took me to lunch!” Molly squeaked.

Chris slung an arm over Molly’s shoulders. Tom’s fist clenched around the flowers behind his back.

“I hope you don’t mind me stealing your girl, Tom.” Chris smirked. “She said you were out to lunch with Benedict.”

“Not at all, Chris.” Tom lied. “I’m glad you could keep my wife company.”

“Pleasure was all mine, pal. She is,” Chris gazed down at Molly with a look that made Tom want to leap across the kitchen counter and strangle Chris. “a pretty special girl.”

“Chris!” Molly smacked his hand. “You are too kind. Thank you for a lovely lunch.” She squeezed his torso.

“And don’t forget about tomorrow. We will find decent margaritas in this city if it kills us.”

“You’re on. But you know I have discerning taste when it comes to my liquor.”

“That makes two of us.”

Molly and Chris giggled. “Let me show you out, Chris.” Tom offered.

Molly smiled over at Tom and noticed his hand behind his back.

“What’s that, darling?”

“What?” Tom’s brows knitted.

“Behind your back.” Molly strolled towards him and peeked around Tom. “Are those for me?”

Tom pulled the flowers out. “They are. I thought you might want them to brighten up the house.”

Molly gasped at the beautiful arrangement. “They are stunning, love.” She wrapped an arm around Tom’s neck and pecked his lips. “Thank you. I love them.”

Tom leaned down for another kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth when Molly sighed.

Chris cleared his throat and hooked his thumb towards the front of the house.

“I’ll just see myself out.”

Molly pulled back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tom trailed kisses down her neck, tickling her skin. She giggled as Chris waved and walked away.

“What has gotten into you?” she teased as she pushed Tom back.

“Just selling the relationship. We are newly married.” Tom commented, kissing her cheek.

“Oh.”

Tom’s answer disappointed Molly. Somewhere deep inside, that place she never admits to having Molly wanted Tom to want her for more than just a PR stunt. She wanted him to love her as much as he pretended to. But it seemed clear Tom was content on keeping things professional.

“That is the plan, after all?”

“Yeah.” Molly shook her head. “So how was lunch with Ben?”

“Good. You’re going out with Chris again?” Tom’s heart sank further down as he shelved plans to tell Molly how he felt. Evans ruined that.

“He is staying in town for a few days and with you doing auditions and meetings tomorrow, Chris thought I could use some company.” She went to grab a vase for the flowers.

“I bet he did.” Tom muttered.

“What’s that?” Molly twisted her head around.

“I said how nice of him.”

Molly smiled. “It is. He is so funny too! The stories he tells.”

Tom inhaled sharply. “Think you can pry yourself from the Captain to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Anything for you.” She cupped his cheek. “Now what would you like for dinner tonight?”

“Whatever you would like, love. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Molly marched over to him and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. “That is the second time you have said something like that. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

Tom pulled back. “I’m fine. There’s no need to fuss.”

Molly pursed her lips. “After you drove me to urgent care, filled my prescriptions, let me sleep in your bed, and took care of my every need for three days, you can bet your sweet ass I’m fussing.” She touched his forehead again. “Hmm. I can’t tell if you have a fever. Go lie down in the living room and I’ll bring you dinner.”

“But I…”

“Go!” She jabbed a finger at the door. “I will not have you getting sick on my hands.”

Tom held up his hands in defeat. “Yes, ma’am.”

Molly came in with a steaming bowl of a beef stew she whipped up with leftovers in the fridge and on the side some thick slices of a crusty bread she picked up a few days ago. A heavy slash of butter on top. She arranged it on a tray for Tom.

“Arms and knees up.” she commanded. Tom complied, tucking up his knees. Molly set down the tray and then settled into the spot once occupied by Tom’s feet. “Eat up.”

Tom blew onto a spoonful before taking a bite. He moaned as he swallowed. “That is exquisite, Molly. What is it?”

“Leftover stew.” Molly took a bite herself.

“You made this with the leftovers?”

“You learn to get creative with the spice cabinet.”

“Foster care?” Tom asked quietly, teeth crunching through the crust of the bread.

“College. Financial aid only goes so far. I couldn’t let food go to waste. I became famous or rather infamous in the dorm freshman year with what I could with a microwave. A modern witch, they called me.”

“You have certainly bewitched me, darling.” Tom commented without thinking. “With your cooking.” he covered. “You are a genius in that kitchen. I will have to learn some of the recipes before year’s end.”

Molly gazed up at him, pained. He was already talking about when all of this was over. Tom quickly changed the subject.

“Tell more about college. I imagine it was rather different from my experience.” Tom ate another spoonful of stew, warming his insides.

“Where did you matriculate?” Molly teased in a haughty tone.

“Cambridge.”

She let loose a low whistle. “You really are Mr. Fancy Pants.”

“With a degree in Classics.”

Molly giggled. “And I thought a tourism degree was useless.”

“Enough about me. I’m boring. Tell me about you.”

-

They talked about college, about how hard summers were when the dorms closed and Molly would couch surf while working summer jobs.

“I had amazing friends.” she whispered. “I am forever in their debt.”

Tom reached over and pulled her to his chest. “I am so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m not.” She snuggled against him. “Our experiences make us who we are. The good and the bad. I would have preferred an easier life. I would prefer not to freeze every time someone raises their voice, but that’s not me.” she sighed and the tears fell onto Tom’s shirt.

Tom smoothed down Molly’s hair. “I’m sorry to upset you. Let’s talk about happy things.”

“What are those?” she chuckled softly.

“How about this?” He stared down at her tucked under the crook of his arm. “Tell me about some of the craziest things you’ve seen as a bartender in Vegas?”

Molly laughed. “How about the one about the guy who peed on a blackjack table?”

“This I must hear.” Tom chuckled.

-

Tom woke up on the couch that next morning. Molly’s messy bun tickling his chin.

“Molly…” He groaned as he sat up. “… I have to get up, darling.”

Molly burrowed deeper into Tom’s chest and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her. He kissed her temple. She hummed and sighed. Tom’s stomach clenched.

“Time to wake up. I need to shower.”

She slowly woke and stared at Tom, realizing the compromising position of their bodies. Molly scrambled away, blushing.

“So sorry.” She sat up. “I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

Tom cleared his throat. “I still have time.” Tom sat up and fiddled his hands in his lap. “You could always come with me. We could grab some lunch. You can see all of my ‘hard work’.” Tom gazed at her hopefully.

“I…” Molly pondered the offer. “can’t. I would only be in the way. And I have plans with Chris.”

“Chris, right.” Tom stood abruptly. “We wouldn’t want you to miss that.”

Molly gave a strained smile. “I already committed. But we are still having dinner?”

“Dinner, indeed. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 6:30 p.m.”

Molly stood and hugged him. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

-

There was a knock on the door exactly when Chris said he would come by. Molly opened the door to find Chris leaned against the frame in jeans and a henley. A devastating combination.

“Hey babe, I have an Uber and a list of five Mexican restaurants with great promise. Ready to find the perfect margarita?”

“I am.” She stepped out with a smile. Chris slung his arm over her shoulder. Molly leaned in for a bit. Just long enough for a camera to click.

-

“That first place was awful!” Molly howled in the back of the Uber as they made their way to the next place.

Chris laughed next to her. “I never knew they could make tortillas out of rubber.”

Molly’s phone buzzed. It was Luke. She switched off the phone.

“Anything important?” Chris leaned over to glance at the screen.

“Just Luke. Tom’s publicist. It is probably just something about an upcoming event. I’ll ring him back later.” Molly shrugged before tucking the phone back into her purse. “Now an important question.”

“Which is?”

“Strawberry or Lime?”

“Lime all the way.”

“A purist, I like that.”

Chris burst into laughter.

-

Tom struggled against his sour disposition through most of his auditions and lunch. It wasn’t until he got to the restaurant for dinner Tom listened to Luke’s voicemail. Which led him to googling himself for the first time in years.

“Fuck!” He hissed louder than he wanted to, drawing the attention of a nearby couple. He forced a smile and gave a small wave.

Molly slipped into the chair. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. I lost track of time and then traffic.”

Tom’s fists clenched. “Having a bit too fun with our charming Captain America?” He spit at her.

Molly blinked at him. “What do you mean by that? I was with Chris. He seems like a nice guy.”

“And you are such a friendly girl.” Tom continued to speak in a clipped tone.

“Tom, what’s wrong?” She reached out for Tom’s hand, but he pulled it back.

“This is what’s wrong.” Tom slid his phone over to her.

Molly scrolled through the pictures with increasing horror. The headlines read: Hiddleston Marriage on the Rocks? Tom’s New Bride Steps Out with Captain America Himself.

“I… I…” Molly sputtered, handing the phone back. Hot tears hit her cheeks.

Tom threw his napkin down. “We’re leaving. Keep a smile on as we leave and when we get home. No need to give the paparazzi more fodder.”

Molly stood in a daze and Tom snatched her elbow roughly to lead her out of the restaurant. As they walked outside, Tom leaned in.

“Wrap your arm around my waist and laugh like I said something funny.”

Molly snaked her arm around him and Tom pulled her tight against him. They both threw their heads back in laughter until they got into the taxi, where Tom’s expression fell into a cold mask.

Molly sniffled with stifled sobs the entire way home. Tom took no effort to sooth her. He was… cold and detached. They repeated the charade from the restaurant up the stairs to the front door. Tom had to hold back from slamming the door.

“How could you have been so stupid?!” Tom hissed, slamming his keys onto the table.

“Don’t call me stupid. I was just going out with a friend.”

“A handsome movie star!”

“Not unlike my husband! In fact, Chris called you a close friend.” Molly raised her voice.

“He would say anything to take you from me!” Tom yelled.

Molly froze and her head dropped, shoulders hunching forward. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“How else am I to make you understand, Molly?!” Tom continued to shout like someone crazed. He gestured wildly in the air. “You are forbidden to see him.”

“I want out.” Molly sobbed.

“What?” Tom snapped out of it. He glanced at Molly, only to see the damage he had done. Molly was all but curled in on herself. She sobbed freely, shoulders shaking. “Molly, I…”

“Don’t touch me.” She turned from his hand, reaching out to her. “Why is Chris different from your sister?”

“Because Emma isn’t trying to steal you from me.”

Molly chuckled. “You’re fucking jealous?! How rich! Chris is a nice guy! I used to say the same about you. I used to…” her voice trailed off.

“Used to what?” Tom sniped, tears of anger and hurt filling his own eyes. “Take pity on me? Poor Tom with shit taste in women?! Has to pay a girl to pretend to be his wife for the papers?!”

Molly reared back and slapped him. Tom held his cheek.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Molly screeched. “I’m leaving. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”

“Molly, please…” Tom begged.

“Fuck off, Tom!” Molly pushed past him. “I thought we were…” she sobbed. “But I guess not. It’s my own fucking fault.”

“What’s your fault, Molly?” Tom asked. “What’s your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Molly cried, defeated. “I was clearly wrong about you.”

“Wrong how?” Tom’s heart shattered as she walked away, returning with a small bag.

“Goodbye, Tom. Don’t worry, I’ll be discrete. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your good guy image?” she sneered before heading to the door.

“Where will you go?” Tom grew more desperate as the reality of his actions set in.

“Away from you. Other than that, I don’t much care.” The front door slammed behind her.

Tom collapsed onto the couch and his head fell into his hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. FUCK!” he screamed into the void of his empty house.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Prey for You | Part 4

Genre: Smut, angst, and some fluff this time

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary:  It has come to this. After your landlord kicks you out, you’re at Chan’s mercy. Turns out, he might not be as bad as you thought he was.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, switch!reader, switch!chan, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader, thigh riding, really unheathly dynamics

A/N: this part is like the opposite of a tootsie roll soft on the outside hard on the inside

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

“This is just for a short while.” You say, swallowing the bile that has risen up in your throat as you look at the smug wolf sitting in front of you on his couch.

“Sure.” He shrugs nonchalant, but the cocky arch of his brow says otherwise and you have to squash down your pride with everything you’ve got not to jump on him. Like it or not, you’re at his mercy now that your landlord has officially evicted you. Without his gracious help, you’d now be on the streets. “I’ll find another place as soon as I can.”

“You can take all the time you need.” He opens his arms wide, going for a welcoming vibe but the stupid grin on his face counteracts it.

“No. I’ll be out of here soon.” You deadpan, not wanting to owe him more than you already do. God knows he’ll hold his over your head forever.  "And I don't feel comfortable living here for free so from now on until I leave, I'll be taking care of things around the house."

“Oh, how domestic.” He chirps sweetly.

"More like a live-in maid." You mutter under your breath but he easily hears it, the stupid grin finally dropping from his face as he sits forward and looks at you sincerely. "Don't say that. I meant what I said. You’re here as a friend."

"Yeah, sure." You snort. “You’re basically high from gloating.”

A smile tickles his lips again as he leans back. “I always enjoy the chance to one-up you, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.”

“Wow, you really are a saint.” You jeer, grabbing your bag and heading towards the room that is to be yours.  

_________________

To your great surprise, living with Chan was actually kind of nice. Aside from the obvious perk of living in such a comfortable, beautiful house that had everything you could ever need. Chan himself was proving himself to be a quiet congenial roommate. Most importantly, he left you the hell alone for the most part, staying cooped up in his studio the majority of the day so that you barely even saw him. And despite your agreement that you’d take care of things around the house, he still did most of his things himself, picking up after himself and washing his clothes before you got the chance to. He fed himself too as indicated by the boxes of takeout from every possible fast food place filling out the trash. So you were barely wasting any time on taking care of the house, and spending most of your days following up on your studies like you so sorely needed. 

All in all, this whole arrangement was working out positively in your favor. Too positively, that you have to wonder what he was getting out of this. He can’t possibly really be doing this out of the goodness of his heart, especially since no one is even aware of this kind deed for him to gain any morality points off of it. He hasn’t even made a move on you for the whole three weeks you’d been here, seeming content to just coexist with you that you were starting to feel like you were taking advantage of him somehow. Even though this whole thing was his idea. 

Maybe that, your momentary self-doubt, is what prompted you to do what you did next. 

“Hmm, something smells nice.” Chan remarks, walking into the kitchen where you were making yourself some food. He stands behind you to take a look at what you were cooking, and you feel your heart skipping a beat at the now familiar scent of him filling your nostrils and his body being so close to you. And when he speaks, his voice deep and calm next to your ear, it makes your skin tingle. “Looks tasty too.” 

And like a teenager who had the great fortune of being noticed by the popular jock, you twist your head around to look at him, dewy-eyed as the words stumble out of your mouth before you can think them over. “Would you like to have dinner with me today?”

He pauses, looking at you curiously and you turn back to the food and continue nervously, “I mean, that junk food you eat everyday can’t be good for you.” 

“Aw, are you worried about me?” He asks cheekily, and your shoulders tense. “Never mind.” 

“No, no, I’ll have dinner with you.” He rushes to say, plopping down on a seat resolutely. “No take backsies.”

“Idiot.” You mutter, finding yourself wearing an involuntary smile because of him once again.

__________________________________ 

You’re not the best cook, you’ll be the first to admit it, but Chan praises your food like you are a world class chef. 

“Fuck off, Chan. It’s not that good.” You protest awkwardly, not really used to being complimented. But he insists, mouth full of food, “It is! It’s sublime.” 

You look down at your food to avoid eye contact with him and put on your best snooty voice. “Poor thing. Your habit of eating exclusively junk food must’ve ruined your palate to the point where you think my cooking is anything but decent.” 

“You sell yourself short. These hands--” He suddenly grabs your hands suddenly, startling you as he kisses them. “They’re magic.” 

You yank them back to your lap, flustered, the adrenaline pushing your poor fluttering heart into overdrive and making you panic. You quickly grab your fork and shove some food into your mouth trying to distract yourself from the conflicting emotions clashing in your chest, and regretting it almost immediately as your nausea swells up. 

“Is that how you woo prey?” You snark, taking a big gulp of your wine to wash down the piece of food you barely chewed. “Blatantly lie to them about their cooking skills?” 

The atmosphere fully changes as Chan drops his cheery attitude.  “Can we not talk about… that? It’s just you and me here. We don’t have to let the outside world in, do we?”

You still, your sense of danger rising up exponentially at his suggestion, and once again you find yourself wondering why he was doing this. What was his endgame here? Was he just messing with you? He puts on an honorable performance but you’ve seen him slip before. It must get tiring for him. Maybe he wants to see you hurt; it’s in his nature and he’s been repressing it for so long. You’d be the perfect victim too. No one even knows you’re here, and even if they did, they’d never believe your word over his. 

Or he could be genuine. Maybe he’s as nice as he tries to be. But that just scares you more, because how do you deal with that? You’ve never had a relationship with someone that was open and trusting. You’ve always hid behind your games. They kept you safe. No one has ever truly hurt you because you’ve never allowed someone to get close enough. But if you trust Chan, if you let him in and he betrays you… you don’t know how you’d even recover from that. 

You want to believe though. Everyone always says how much of a good person he is, how loyal, how selfless, how supportive. They can’t all be blind, right? And you’ve seen it too, in the way he always strived to protect his friends from you. He wanted the best for them. Maybe he could want the best for you too.

“Okay.” You answer in a small voice, heart pounding. 

His answering smile is bright and big, but it does nothing to assuage your fears so you settle for taking another sip of your wine. That’s what it’s made for, right?

“So, what do you actually do? I never asked.” Chan makes conversation as he gets back to his food.

You clear your throat. “I’m a waitress.” 

“Oh, and… um, is that what you want to be doing?” He asks unsurely. 

You roll your eyes at him, feeling a little at ease at his naivety. “No. Nobody wants to work in the service industry. It’s basically slavery and all your costumers are either rude or crazy. I hate it.” 

He pauses, looking like he’s thinking very hard for a moment, before he asks, perplexed. “So why do you do it?”

“To eat?” 

“Oh. Right. Of course.” His ears turn red and it’s his turn to take a big gulp of his drink. “I’m, uh, apparently an idiot. Yes, people work to afford living. Of course.” 

“I guess you’ve never had to think about that.” You note, surprised that you don’t feel any bitterness as you say it. 

“No.” He stares at the food on his plate. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah but--”

“But I don’t have money so you feel sorry having money in front of me?” You grin, tone light, and he smiles back, face flushed as he obviously chastises himself in his head. 

“So…” He starts again, and it’s a little endearing how nervous he is. “What do you really wanna do?” 

You regard him for a second, wondering if you should really cross that line and let him in. Well, here goes nothing. 

“I’m studying to be a doctor.” 

His jaw drops to the floor. “You?”

“Yeah, shocking right?” You quip, taking another sip from your glass.

“I mean, yeah.” You would take offense at his words if it weren’t for the--you begrudgingly admit--endearing confused frown on his face. “Isn’t that a traditionally prey profession? Don’t you get, like, weird looks or something?”

“Yeah.” You snort, feeling the bitterness rise to the surface. “I get more than just weird looks. People feel the need to tell me every moment of every day how I’ll never be a good doctor. How no one will trust a fox with their life. How I should just quit and get into business or law or whatever other profession that can use my no-doubt nefarious skills.”

“That sucks.” He says then immediately cringes at his lame comment.

“Yeah, no shit. And guess who says it the most? Prey hybrids.” 

A light bulb suddenly clicks above his head. “Is that why you dislike them? They’re really not all like that--”

You interrupt him sharply, already knowing where he was going with this. “They’re not like that to you because you’re powerful and rich and you could do whatever you want, but they’re ruthless to me. They’ve always been. So yeah excuse me if I don’t care too much for your prey apologism. It’s pretty infuriating actually.”

“I really think you should--”

“What about you?” You ask pointedly, clearly wanting to change the subject. “I mean, I know that you’re a producer. I suppose this is what you’ve always wanted to be doing.” 

“Ah, yes.” He coughs, straightening in his seat as he reels back from the change of topic. “I’ve loved it since I was an angsty teen listening to hip hop and pretending like I’m so cool and gangsta.” 

The thought of little rich boy Chan swearing it up and down and acting like a thug brings an involuntary and sincere laugh out of you. It doesn’t bother Chan though. If anything, he looks content to have made you laugh. 

“Did you…” He begins after your laughter dies down, fiddling with the stem of his glass as he looks at you from under his lashes, “Have you ever listened to any of my tracks?”

“No.” You scoff, the word coming out automatically. I mean, why would you? It’s not like you like the guy. 

His face falls at your flippant answer. “Ah. Of course.” He says flatly, bringing his glass to his mouth. 

You feel a pang of guilt in your chest. Logically, you know you have no reason to feel bad. You two were never on the best of terms and you have no obligation to listen to his songs. And yet, as you look at his crestfallen face, the guilt still eats at you. 

“How about you show me some after dinner?” You find yourself suggesting and his face immediately brightens up. “Yeah! I mean… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He interjects quickly, even though he clearly wants you to. 

“I want to.” You say firmly, and he smiles. ___________________________________

“I’m a nice guy who just has a lot of money?” You wheeze, cracking up and face flushed from the intoxication. You were somehow on Chan’s lap as the night progressed from him showing you his proudest works to his most regrettable ones.

“I know. I know. What was I thinking, right?” He laughs along with you despite his obvious embarrassment. 

You lean in close to his face, humming, "I think it's endearing." You kiss him. 

"You just like embarrassing me." He protests weakly, mouth opening against your lips. 

“Guilty.” You pull away to take his shirt off. Caressing his exposed muscles, you grin, “Hmm...yummy.” 

He bursts out laughing, “You like it?”

You shrug, “It’s not what I usually go for but I can get used to it.” 

He scoffs at that, and pulls your own shirt over your head. Tugging your bra over your breasts, he cups them in his hands and murmurs against your skin, “Well, I don’t need to get used to these.” before his mouth latches onto them. He sucks marks onto the sensitive flesh while his hands grope and knead your breasts. 

Looking up at you, he pushes your breasts together and laps his tongue over the nipples. Your arousal spikes as your gaze locks with his challenging one, and you start rocking yourself over his thigh. 

"Fuck that's hot." He mumbles, lightly tugging on your nipple with his teeth as he pulls away, making you moan out and your hips swivel down to push your core harder against his thigh. 

"Wait, wait," He pulls you to your feet, and you whine, protesting the loss. 

“Hush, baby girl.” He soothes, yanking your pants down your legs along with your underwear before he slips his hand between your legs to drag a finger up your slit, hissing when he feels your wetness. "That's what I want." He groans, pulling you back down on his thigh and using his grip on your hips to make you move over his thigh again. "Want you to ruin my pants with your cum, baby girl. Show me how much you need me."

"But I don't need you." You retort, though your hips don’t slow down. 

“Are you sure about that, my little fox?” He flexes his thigh under you, pushing it up more against your core. 

“Uh-huh.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. He takes the opportunity to get back to sucking on your breasts, which only makes your movements more frantic. 

“Come on, baby, tell me how good I am and I’ll help you.” He gasps between kisses. You tug on his hair, almost bouncing on his thigh now. “Why don’t you beg for it, pup?”

“Unbelievable.” He growls, pulling your head down. “You’re still so prideful even as you hump my leg like bitch.” 

Whatever stinging remark you would’ve hurled at him is muffled against his lips as he pulls you into a hungry kiss. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, taking him in and caressing it with your own before you put your hands to his chest and push him back. 

“You really want it? Want me to say how good you are for me? How wet you make me?"

He nods eagerly. 

“What a sweet pup.” You praise, “Striving so hard to please me. You’re doing so well, baby. You’ll make me cum real soon.” 

“Do it, please. I wanna see what you look like cumming up close.” 

“Keep tensing your leg like that and you’ll have me cumming in no time, puppy.” You bite your lip, small but needy moans flowing out of you. “What a good boy you are, so good.” 

“Please,” He whispers, his hands helping you move faster on his thigh. “Please, please.”

“So close---ah---oh god, so close...baby!” You gasp, grabbing onto him tightly as you finally cum, the orgasm surprisingly potent. He beams up at you, soaking up every little moan and shudder you let out. “So pretty.”

Gradually, your panting breaths turn into airy giggles as you get down from your high. You give his lips a peck before your hands fall between you and starts pulling his dick out from his sweatpants. You grin against his lips, feeling giddy. "I can’t believe I’m gonna let you fuck me in your studio. How cliche.”

His answering chuckles are punctuated with little moans as you glide your hand up and down his hard dick. “If it--ahh-- makes you feel any better, t-this is the--ahh, yeah like that, baby-- the first time I fuck anyone here.” 

You giggles increase in pitch, “You’re so full of shit, Chan.”

“I’m serious.” He whines, leaning up into your touch as you swipe your palm over the leaking head of his cock. “This is kind of a... sacred place for me."

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, “It can’t be that special if you’re here with me now.”

“It is.” He insists with a pout, and continues casually as if it was nothing, “Because you’re special.” 

Your hand stills on his cock, your face turning to stone as you try and make sense of what he just said.  He's messing with you. He has to be.

Fear and uncertainty makes your stomach churn and your skin loses all color, your face getting cold and sweaty as the bile rises up in your throat. You thought you could handle this but you can’t. You’re too much of a coward to risk it and your sense of self-preservation rears its deformed head once again. 

Standing up abruptly, you croak through your suddenly dry mouth,  "I think I’m gonna go. I need to lie down" 

Chan gets up too, not letting you go. "Oh, is everything okay? Are you sick?". 

"I’m fine. I’m just..." You explain weakly, wriggling yourself out of his grip as quickly as you can in your intoxicated state. "I gotta go."

“Hey, wait!” Chan calls after you, but doesn’t try to stop you. You hear him curse out just before you get out of earshot.

____________________

You wake up with a huge headache and an even bigger feeling of dread. The events of last night coming back like a bullet shot through your chest, and you’re even more confused now with the hangover shattering any hope of a coherent thought forming in your head. 

You stumble out of bed and head to the door, resolving to get some water and some painkiller so you’d maybe start to feel like your head wasn’t likely to explode at any moment. But as you slide the door open, you hear bickering voices just outside in the living room.

"Chan, what the hell are you doing man?" You hear a familiar voice ask but your brain is too scattered to pinpoint the owner of it right now. Luckily, you don’t need to as Chan speaks up in reply, "It's fine, Jisung. It’s all under control."

"No, it's not. Isn’t that what you used to tell me? That no matter how much she makes it seem like she cares, she could flip the table on me at any moment and that I shouldn’t trust her. That’s what you said!”

You quickly pick up that they’re talking about you despite how much you don’t want to believe it. But that’s the kind of language that has always been directed at you, there is no mistaking it. Yet, against all reason, you hope it’s not true. Or at least, you hope Chan would deny it. 

He doesn’t, of course. They never do.

“I know what I said!” 

“And? Do you trust her now?” Jisung asks incredulously. 

“Of course not.” Chan vehemently denies, the resoluteness in his voice piercing straight through your heart. 

Of course not. Of course he doesn’t trust you. What a ridiculous question.  

“Jisung is right, Chan.” A new voice adds and you focus on the sound of it, trying not to break down just yet. “You’re letting her sleep under your roof, man, and you didn’t even think to tell us. Has she been messing with your head?”

They are talking about you like you are some kind of monster, some wild beast that would pounce on you the second you turned your back to it. You’d find it amusing coming from anyone else, but not from Chan, because for once in your life you wanted to believe that someone could see you as something other than what the world thought you were. You blame yourself for this one. 

“My head is fine.” Chan retorts angrily, letting out a forced sigh. “I’m just.... She was in trouble and I had to help her.” 

“Oh, you had to?” The new guy interjects mockingly, “Tell me, would she have helped you if you were in her position?”

“That’s irrelevant.” Chan protests. 

“No, it’s not. She would’ve let you suffer and laughed about it. She’s bad news, man.” 

“I think you guys are being a little harsh.” Another voice speaks up, deeper than the rest. “Maybe she’s not as bad as you think. I’m sure Chan has a good reason for trusting her.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure his dick does.” Jisung scoffs, “You know, I can’t believe you’d do this after preaching to me for hours about how I need to stay away from her and how stupid I am for letting her get to me. But hey, I’m just a stupid squirrel hybrid, right?” 

You’ve heard enough. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you plaster a smile on your face and step into the living room, the four boys’ head snapping around to look at you. 

“Chan, you didn’t tell me we had guests.” You ponder theatrically, ignoring Chan’s dismayed exclamation of your name. "Oh hey, Sungie. I knew you'd be back for more." You wink at him and he immediately ducks behind the dark-haired stranger. 

“Please go back to your room.” Chan asks, equal measure pale and tense.

“But aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Your eyes flit over the three guys, stopping when you get to the blonde, freckled one. “Especially this one. What’s your name, pretty boy?”

The boy blushes at the unexpected flirtation but extends his hand out to you nonetheless. "I'm Felix." He greets you unexpectedly cheerily, and you’re even more surprised to find out that he’s the one with the deep voice.

But before you can take his hand, Chan steps between the two of you. 

"I need to talk to you." He grits, pulling you to your room and shutting the door behind you. “What are you doing?”

You shrug, feigning ignorance. “Saying hi to the guests?” 

“Now is not the time for your games.” Chan rakes his hand through his hair, stressed out, but you keep up your innocent facade and he sighs in defeat. “You know what? Just stay in your room until they leave and then we’ll talk.”

“No, we’ll talk now. Are you ashamed of me or something?" You wonder, cocking your head to the side. “I thought you said I was special to you? But apparently you say a lot of things.”

“Baby--”

“Why, Chan?” You finally let your facade drop, letting the full extent of your disappointment and sadness break through. “If you don’t want me here then why did you offer in the first place?”

“I do want you here. I just wasn’t planning on anyone finding out about this.”

You laugh in disdain, “How do you always know what to say, Chan?” 

“I’m sorry but you have to realize how bad this looks for me. I worked fucking hard to get to where I am today. There are so many people waiting for me to make the slightest mistake so they can watch me fall. And here you are… well, you don’t exactly have the best reputation. If people find out about us then--”

“Wow, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” You bite, venom lacing your every word.

He laughs cruelly. “Oh, yes, and the judgement comes out. You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You can judge everyone and treat them like shit, but as soon as someone does the same to you you’re suddenly the poor misunderstood victim that everyone bullies.”

You reel back at the harshness of his tone and words. He’s never spoken to you like that before, no matter how much he was upset at you. It was jarring. “Stop it.”  

“Why? It’s what you’re best at, darling.” He sneers, continuing to ruthlessly attack you. “You judged me before you even knew me and went about treating me like a feeble predator because that’s what you decided that I am. And now you want me to take responsibility for your actions and stand up for you when other people treat you the way you’ve been treating them? But here’s the thing, baby; maybe if you had actually been a decent person and treated others with respect, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Hell if you'd been a decent person, you wouldn't be having such a hard time anywhere, not with me, not with school, not--" 

"No, fuck you, chan. Don't you dare tell me this is all my fault. You know nothing about my life! I can't believe I actually--never mind.”

“No say it. You actually what? Liked me? Cared for me? Don’t make me laugh, fox. You don't give a shit about me. Every time I try to get close to you, you pull back like I make you sick. If it weren’t for me offering you a place to stay, you wouldn’t even be talking to me right now. You only care now because I have something to give you, but the second you’re done with me, you’ll throw me in the trash like you do everyone else. And I’m not going to sacrifice all that I’ve worked for to entertain you until you’re bored.”  

“You may be right. I may be as awful as you all say I am.” You smile, tears falling down your face. “But at least I'm honest with myself. You on the other hand? Under all your pretense, you're just as fucked up as I am. And one day, everyone will see you for how ugly you really are. ” 

_______________________________

A/N: sorry guys she (me) had to do it to you. leave your feedback uwu

[fanfiction-inc]

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis. 

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased. 

He needed a reality check. 

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.” 

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?” 

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?” 

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?” 

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.” 

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.” 

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win. 

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.” 

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money. 

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!” 

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready. 

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.” 

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?” 

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John  Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?” 

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?” 

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked. 

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate. 

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through. 

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two. 

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up. 

1st: (First initial). (Last name) 

1st: H. Zemo 

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before. 

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.” 

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round. 

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?” 

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone. 

“Oui.” 

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name). 

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you. 

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything. 

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth. 

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress. 

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego. 

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind. 

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce​

[ggreactionsandscenarios]

Hello, may I request Loona reaction to their S/O coming home drunk/wasted at dawn, thanks <3

Loona Reactions

Their s/o coming home drunk

Vivi

When she opened the door for you, you fell in the room face first, luckily she got an hold of your shoulders before you could meet the ground. She didn't need to be a genius to figure out you've been drinking, the smell strong enough to speak for itself. She helped you get to bed and made sure you had water and painkillers on your nightstand before going to sleep herself since she waited for you all night. Later she'll have a talk with you, she just want to make sure you're okay and that you didn't drank out of any negative thought. Either way she'll scold you, reminding you that even if alcohol wasn't consider a drug it was one and you must be careful with it.

Yves

Sooyoung has terrible ways of telling you it's time to stop drinking. It's been three nights in a row of you coming home not so sober and she'd decided it was time to stop. You woke up hungover and with a really bad smell hitting your nose. Yves was handing you a glass which you took thinking it was water, only to find out it was some liquor which you spit out immediately, the taste burning your throat.

"What the heck Yves ?"

"I guessed you'd like to drink some in the morning too since you decided to bring its smell all the way to our bed."

Jinsoul

Jinsoul watched you knock on the neighbour's door for a good ten minutes before taking your hand in hers, leading you to the right door. Since you were stumbling from left to right, she settled on holding you by the waist, keeping you upright.

"Fhfjjdb.."

"Yes baby, I'm taking you to bed."

Even through the gibberish Jinsoul understood what you were saying thanks to the thousand toothpaste conversations you had over the past years. As she got you in your pj's and under the blankets, Jinsoul started singing you a lullaby until you drifted to sleep.

Haseul

Sorry but Haseul would mock you, she finds it hilarious when you try to make a sentence but end up giving up out of frustration because you just can't form words anymore. You'll have her all attention, the TV show she was watching long forgotten when you enter the room tumbling and sat yourself next to her. She'll help you get rid of your shoes and would let you rest your head on her shoulder, caressing your hair gently.

"Do you want to go to bed already or are you up for a hot choco ?"

She'll make you two a cup of hot choco, bringing the marshmallows over at the same time before settling back on the couch, your head back on her shoulder where you'll fall asleep soon enough.

Kim lip

Jungeun would be pissed in a really terrifying way. Don't even try to talk to her, she'll shut you up with a glare. She's mad because as usual you didn't reply to her worried texts and no she doesn't care that your battery died. She can't stand passing her night worrying that something might have happened and imagining the worst scenarios when you were simply too drunk to find a way to warn her. When she'll come home later that day she'll give you a box, not saying anything but to use it. So you did, you used the key ring she offered you, not knowing it was actually a localisation device until years later. It did save you from bad situations a few times so you couldn't be mad about it anyway.

Chuu

When you tried to sneak back inside the house at 5am you really thought Jiwoo would still be asleep but you ended face to face with pouting lips and crossed arms. Your vision was a little bit too blurry to see if she was really furious or not, so you attempt on playing it cool.

"Hey b.."

"No."

Chuu was pissed, she didn't get her goodnight kiss, didn't get to sleep in your arms and her good morning kiss could now be forgotten, so she was definitely not in a good mood. Luckily she wasn't the scariest person when mad but still you'll have to make it right by her, prepare a fun activity to do together and she'll forget about it.

Heejin

"Had fun ?"

Your girlfriend handed you her famous hungover tea right when you entered the kitchen. You got home at 5am this morning, it was now two in the afternoon and Heejin was cooking dinner. When you mumbled that yeah you had fun but would never drink ever again, she just laughed. You say that everytime though there is always a next time. Heejin knew you didn't like to eat that much on hungover but she forced you too eat a little, using the fact that she made it to make you taste her food and it was delicious as always. She'll nag you a little saying that if your feet hurt it must be because you didn't dance with the right person and that next time you know who to invite.

Hyunjin

"Aeong !"

Like a cat Hyunjin was waiting for your return sat behind the door. She slept on the couch last night, hoping your arrival would wake her up and that she'll be able to welcome you. When she caught herself falling from the couch she woke up right away and decided it was better to wait while sitting in order not to miss the moment you'll come back. Once you'd finally come home she wouldn't believe her eyes so she'll pinch your arm instead. As you drunkly whine about it hurting she'll just take you into a bear hug.

Gowon

As much as she'd like to hate it when you come home drunk, Gowon just can't. Maybe it was because of the surprising boldness you express while drunk or maybe was it because of the cheesy pick up lines but she just can't stop herself from getting flustered. The fact that even under the influence of alcohol you try to hit on her, makes her smile. Of course she rather have you tell her you love her when sober but she is happy to be part of your thoughts at anytime. On the other hand she really likes her sleep so you better let her go back to it after your various confessions.

Olivia

Olivia couldn't care less that you went out with your friends, or at least she tried to make you think she didn't care. Luckily for her you were too drunk to see her waiting by the window. When you entered the bedroom, she had already took place in bed with a book, pretending not to be interested in you or what you were doing. Still she was picking at you from the corner of her eye as you got change in your pj's. Once you settled in bed, she'll pretend to have finished her reading and settled in your arms. But before falling to sleep you noticed something.

"Did you just pretend to read 'How to know you're gay ?' ?"

Choerry

Yerim loves to listen to your drunk stories, you're always so excited and messy while telling them. It honestly is hilarious but she doesn't just like to mock your way of getting excited about everything she also finds it terribly cute. However she'll listen to it all, even though it's way too early for anyone to be up for those kind of stories; smiling brightly at you all along. At some point she'll have enough of contemplating your face so she'll just shut you up with a kiss and bring you to bed. She needs to finish her night and you need to start yours.

Yeojin

"Why in hell wasn't I invited ?"

Yeojin would be clingy once you'll get back home, she won't admit it but she missed you. She'll whine about how you went partying without her, making you think it was only about having fun without her, when it was really about missing your presence. Even though you smell like shit and are still half drunk, she'll make you sit and would put her head on your lap, hugging your waist at the same time. There's no such thing as needing to pee or wanting food, right now you're not allowed to move. Consider it payback for letting her alone all night.

You got it, here is the request. Hope you liked it give feedbacks ❤- Ael