#(gets these type of comments 5 times in a row right fucking after from other people)

[sssinopia]

😐😑

[erectionsandtea]

Roller rink skate date headcanons! (poly party) insp. by this post, for @mike-wheeler-is-gay (I know you wanted byler specifically and I usually write poly party, but I tried to stick some extra byler in here for you, I hope I did it justice and that you like it!)

So many paragraphs this should really just be a fic, I'm sorry

- Mike is super tall and gangly is absolutely the worst skater in the party (tied only with Lucas, who put on his very first pair of skates and promptly fell on his face and they weren't even on the rink yet, they were still on the carpet area)

- the moment Mike steps into the actual skating floor, he falls bc he's tall gangly uncoordinated Mike, and Will is just standing there rolling his eyes, like "babe, you're a mess" but he doesn't mind bc it means he gets to hold Mike's hand (and hold Mike in general) while he helps his bf balance and skate

- and Mike is like "I don't deserve you, why are you even with me, I'm so awkward" (poor self deprecating bby), and you know Will would respond with "are you kidding, you're amazing, why are YOU with ME?" (also a self deprecating bby), but then he falls and pulls Will down with him (aka on top of him lol)

- and they laugh, and just as their lips touch, the moment is ruined by Max zooming in their direction screaming "get up before you get run over!!" And she manages to avoid them (being the zoomer that she is) but Lucas has to swerve and falls the fuck over ofc (luckily the rink isn't super crowded that day so nobody's in any real danger)

- and Dustin is looking at byler like "this isn't even that hard guys, come on, are you even trying??"

- El and Will have totally been going to the rink (sibling bonding yo) and everyone realizes that's how they got so good bc El is totally the best skater in the group

- except for Suzie who is a skating queen

- El and Suzie totally having races from one end of the rink to the other

- Max totally joining them and they let her win, just once

- Dustin joining them and after he wins twice in a row (pure luck), Max and El pretend cross his path and bump into him, totally fucking him up, and Dustin's just like "are you shitting me?" (but it's all in good fun, everyone knows that)

- El and Max holding hands as El helps her get better at skating, bc Max is decent on skates but better on her skateboard (bc how do you wheels on both feet separately ??) (like skiing vs snowboarding)

- byler doing that thing where holding hands facing each other, and Mike learning how to actually move his feet and skate forward, and that's propelling Will backward (and Will constantly throwing praise at him and Mike grinning so big bc he's doing it! lol)

- Will and Mike holding hands as they slowly skate around the edge of the rink

- Mike needing to stop a moment and grab the wall to keep himself up and steady, and Will coming around in front of him, his hands over Mike's,and they stand there all adorable and then kisses (except Mike has to duck down bc Will cannot stand on his tippy-toes in skates)

- eventually Mike is like "I need a break" (from falling and stuff, tho he has gotten better) and he goes to sit down

- and then El comes over to join him bc "you looked lonely" (he isn't really lonely, he just kind of has a resting bitch face sometimes, tell me I'm wrong, am I actually wrong tho ??)

- they sit together in silence, watching the rest of the group playing some weird skate-tag game (rules at the bottom)

- Mike is watching Will with a smile on his face, laughing and having fun, and he says to nobody, really "what did I ever do to deserve him?"

- El replies "probably whatever I did to deserve you" and they look at each other and smile and then cute lil Mileven kiss

- their hands reach over (cos they are sitting like RIGHT next to each other, no space)

- they continue to sit there, hands clasped, her head on his shoulder, watching the group and sometimes making comments to each other and laughing

- after a while Will comes over to check on his bf and sis) ("I don't know which is more bruised, my knees or my ego" -> Mike, "you're doing really well!" -> El), which is actually kind of nice for El bc she wants to go skate some more but she doesn't want to leave Mike by himself

- before she leaves tho, she wants a kiss, so still holding Mike's hand she gets up and wheels around to face him and grabs his other hand and is like "I want a kiss" bc she's just blunt like that (it's a good thing)

- and mike laughs at her bluntness bc SO CUTE, and so Mike gives her one of those super cute kisses where he puts his hands on the sides of her face, you know? And she has to balance herself by putting her hands on his knees (Sorry, I just had to get a Mileven kiss in here)

(so much detail in those moments ^ I'm...sorry?)

- so Will sits there with Mike, and they hold hands and share kisses and say cute sweet things to each other, and honestly they spend more time looking at each other than anyone/thing else

- Will goes and buys them one giant drink to share bc boys gotta stay hydrated (can someone please draw this or maybe ALL of this idk ??)

- the rest of the group annoys them (but not really) by hanging over the wall and saying "AWWW" super loud and making kissy faces

- and then El comes back over later and says "okay, that's enough sitting down, we're going back skating, come on" and she grabs Mike's hand and Will's hand and tries to pull them up but it's hard bc wheels (like she's about to slip and the boys have to grab her arms to catch her), but the boys comply and go back to the rink floor

- Dustin and Suzie can totally do skate-dancing, whatever that is (and they totally get applause)

- Max skating by everyone so many times and being like "zoomer!" and everyone is like "pls stop, we get it"

- Dustin trying to tell help Lucas how to skate by actually explaining how the skates and the rubber stoppers work, and Lucas not getting it and just being like "can you explain in English please??" And Dustin throws his hands up like "I fucking give up, you're hopeless"

- Max learns how to skate in a small circle (basically just turning around without stepping) and she's super fucking proud of herself and does it constantly

- Max eventually needs to be stopped by El and Lucas bc "babe, you're gonna get so dizzy" (you can decide who says that 😊) but it's too late bc she's already dizzy

- Lucas and El lead Max off the rink floor and she just immediately falls down to sit on the carpet bc so dizzy and El falls down next to her bc hand holding (she gets pulled), and Lucas sits down too

- the girls can't stop laughing and Lucas is looking at them like "tf is wrong with you guys?" (but not really), also he's just smiling at them and laughing with them bc goddamn they are so cute, his girlfriend is the most beautiful girl in the world and seeing her as she is right now just inflates his heart

- eventually Max can't stay upright so she lies back and El follows her and they are just lying there together (Max on her back, El on her side facing Max, no space), giggling so hard, they can't stop laughing for some reason (I think it's bc when one laughs, it makes the other laugh too)

- Max is like "you, boyfriend, kiss" and so Lucas complies

- an employee has to come over and say "you can't lie down here, it's a safety hazard" and Lucas is like "we're sorry, sir" and he's like "babe, we gotta move"

- so he gets the girls up and they bring max to a bench where she can sit, instead of sitting tho, she lies down again, on the bench with her head in El's lap, and then elmax kisses as El plays with her hair

- El and Max basically take over the bench that Mike and Will were sitting on, and they also steal the boys' giant drink (barely a quarter empty) cos hydration

- Will and Mike trying to kiss while not holding the wall, but fucking down AnD having his eyes closed throws Mike way off balance bc what a klutz, and then he falls and Will is fuckin laughing and he feels bad but also it's funny

- so then Will gets down too (more gracefully but lbr, anyone can be more graceful than Mike, without even trying) and is like "it's okay, we can do this here" and then sitting kisses

- El trying to help Mike but she's having too much fun and ends up just speeding around while Mike tries to catch up with her, and she has to keep going back for him

- Mike feeling kind of embarrassed bc his gf is amazing while his own skating is questionable, and he confides this to her and is like "why are you with me, I'm so clumsy and awkward" (self deprecating again), but El makes him feel better by telling him that she's with him bc she loves him and actually she thinks it's kind of cute that he's not that good at skating and she likes being the one who helps him for once (bc he's helped her for so long with so much)

- and then Mike gives her one of his lil mike-smiles (you know the one I mean, like the one right after he kisses her for the very first time, in season 1)

- and then a Mileven kiss, but Mike almost loses his balance again like he did with the byler kiss, but El can sense it's about to happen and has to break their kiss to hold him up (she's holding both his hands, fingers intertwined), but it's okay, they just smile at each other share a little laugh at the situation and how uncoordinated he is, and they scoot their skates really close together in a sort-of huh type thing

- arcade games after!! (But I'll put that in its own separate post 😄)

- rules to the weird skate-tag game: 1) the wall is the safe zone, but you can only stay there for 10 seconds at a time 2) you cannot untouch the wall for one second and then go back to touching it for 10 seconds, you have to actually leave the wall and skate (HOWEVER you can try to skate from the wall on one end of the rink to the wall at the other end) 3) you are allowed to skate around the edge while touching the wall, as long as you only do so for no more than 10 seconds 4) whoever is 'it' cannot hover around those on the wall 5) crashing into someone does not count as tagging them 6) no tag backs

~

I tried to get equal parts of all the ships in this one but I know I failed miserably, I'm so sorry lol (clearly you can tell who I ship the most)

If you want to add more (I will if I think of any), send me ideas, or request anything, please feel free! 😀👍🏻

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 6/?

A/N: Hi loves! Long chapter ahead! Watched Shang-Chi this weekend and wowowowowow go see it if you haven’t!! 

We are now in the AGE OF ULTRON phase; I wanted to finally start building the foundations of your friendship with Wanda this chapter! 

And Agents of Shield cameos!

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist  ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​​, @white-wolf-buckaroo​​, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies,  @yaszx​

Word Count: 2705

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~��Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Warnings: cursing, slowest fucking burn oml

Chapter Summary: You meet the Maximoff twins and the Avengers on your search for Sergeant Barnes.

Chapter 6:  I’M NICE TO MEET

“Another bust,” I say into my comms as Fitz, Johnson, Ward and I exit the base, leaving knocked out or restrained HYDRA agents for the local authorities to find.

“Copy that,” Fury replies.

“You know, this is like… we’re vigilantes, right? This isn’t legal anymore? We have no jurisdiction anywhere,” Fitz says.

“SHIELD did what SHIELD wanted,” I shrug. “Now it’s our turn.”

“That’s true, SHIELD never followed the rules, not even their own,” Daisy added.

“Excuse me, did you forget that you were on the line with the Director of SHIELD?” Fury defends.

I chuckle. “You mean former right? Because Fitz has a point, if we get caught we go to jail too.”

“Well, good thing we still have access to a quinjet,” Fury says as he lands right in front of us.

“Very smooth,” we climb in as the ramp comes down and take a seat. I sigh, “gone are the good ol’ days.”

“I never even got to experience them,” Daisy shrugs.

“They weren’t that great for us. She had it good, being Level 7,” Grant comments.

“You’re Level 6! I’m still Level 4!” Fitz exclaims, offended.

“The system collapsed when SHIELD fell, I can make you unofficially Level 10 if you’d like?” I offer as I go to the mini fridge to take out a… “who ate the mozzarella and prosciutto wrap?” I say, closing the door and looking at everyone disappointedly.

“Wasn’t me,” Daisy and Grant say.

My eyes shift to Fitz. “I’m sorry, did it have your name on it? Because it didn’t so…” I pick up an apple and throw it at him. “Ow ow ow what the hell!”

“Behave,” we hear May through the comms.

“Sorry, May,” we all say as we take out seats, buckling up to meet Fury.

He’s typing away at the computer when we enter his makeshift underground office. It’s still hard to get used to being based here and not some fancy DC high rise.

“We’ve stormed two bases and found nothing. The Avengers have cleared four and they haven’t found the sceptre either,” Daisy recounts.

“There has to be something we’re missing,” Fitz says.

“We have two computer geniuses, tactile and operations experts and we can’t find a magical space stick,” I say, frustrated but this mission isn’t the only thing on my mind. It’s been almost a year since Steve asked Sam and I for help and we still haven’t found anything solid. The HYDRA bases haven’t revealed anything helpful either.

“On a lighter note, HYDRA is six bases down! I see that as an absolute win,” Fitz smiles.

“I’d say you all take a break. I’ve not found anything as of yet so… go back to your lives for a little bit. I’ll send directives if I find anything,” Fury orders.

“You know… you’re not the boss of us anymore, right?” I raise a brow.

“You’re dismissed.”

I go home with the intention of getting some rest but there’s something grating at my mind. It seems too easy that we’ve taken down six bases in the span of a year after HYDRA had been hiding in the shadows for decades… I go to my laptop and map out where each base was found. Huh… They arrange in a line of six and when the order of discovery is taken into account it seems that each base gets farther and farther away from one country. Sokovia.

I pack a bag with disguises that I still kept around, a photostatic veil and more subtle weapons in the place of guns. Time to go into the belly of the beast.

I look at my phone and assume the identity of a scientist that I see is on her way into the base. Before she gets too close I knock her out with a an electric disc. I drag her unconscious body to a place with cover and scan her face with my phone, syncing it up with my photostatic veil. Once it uploads, I put it on my face which has now taken hers. I style my hair similar to hers and replace my clothes with hers. I tie her up but inject her with a sedative that should last long enough for me to gather intel. I go through her bag and read through her diary and tablet to see where she should and shouldn’t be, to prevent suspicion.

I sigh. “Ideme na to,” here we go, I practice my Sokovian.

I enter the base. Doctor Kovak seems to be reporting to sub-level 3 according to her diary. I follow the signs quietly but the staff here seem to be too busy with their own tasks to mind me.

“Doctor Kovak,” I turn to the source of the voice. Wolfgang von Strucker, of course. “How are the test subjects?” he asks.

“I’m checking on them now, Herr Strucker,” I respond. He nods and gestures for me to walk with him. He leads me to two rooms with one sided glass. HYDRA’s still experimenting on people… There’s a man in the cell to the left who looks healthy enough and a woman in the cell next to him, sat on her knees looking at blocks of wood. I raise a brow but take out Dr. Kovak’s tablet, tapping around to find something.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?”

I find a tab on SUBJECTS and tap it, leading me to 16 more tabs labelled FAILURES but two SUCCESSES. This brings me to the Maximoff twins, Pietro and Wanda. The doctor’s newest entry was from last night. “The male has increased metabolism and improved homeostasis,” I say. “His vitals look normal, for someone going through this,” I add as I look to the monitor on the wall of his side. “The female has exhibited abilities of telekinesis.” I stop myself from frowning… they’re human?

“Keep an eye on them. I want to know more. I want to know how they survived the powers of the sceptre while many others did not. What makes them special, doctor? We are running out of bases to feed the Avengers.” He walks away before I can acknowledge his orders.

So the sceptre is here and they were just trying to keep themselves out of our radar. My stomach sinks slightly in disappointment as there was the possibility that what HYDRA was hiding was Barnes… maybe he’s still free then. Hopefully.

I look at the twins files for more information on why they would volunteer for such experiments. Native Sokovians, orphaned at ten years old and only having each other since then. I look up and notice that Wanda is staring at me. Or, correction, she’s staring into my soul.

I need to find the sceptre but that can wait at the presence of two enhanced individuals that have chosen the opposing side.

I open Wanda’s cell. “Miss Maximoff,” I greet. “Good morning,” she doesn’t reply. “I just wanted to learn more about you.”

Her head tilts but she doesn’t say anything.

“What made you want to volunteer for this… program?” I ask.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I believe there is something special about you and your brother. We’ve of course taken biological samples but I like to take a more… holistic approach to find out more.”

She looks at me and I swear her eyes glow red.

“I just want to help.”

She blinks and her posture relaxes as if she believes me. “I lost everyone but my brother. There’s so much wrong with the world. We just want to change it.”

“That’s why you agreed to be experimented on?”

She nods. “My turn. What did you do to the real Dr. Kovak?”

I look up sharply. How could she possibly…? Wanda doesn’t seem to want to alert the other scientists and agents of my presence so I clear my throat and straighten up. “She’s safe. I just needed intel.”

Her brow raises. “On what?”

“Can’t ask me two questions in a row, Miss Maximoff.”

“I could just… read your mind.”

“You can do that?”

Her brow quirks as an answer. “Have you been withholding information from Strucker?”

“Yes.”

I hum at her honesty. “Good. You can’t trust him.”

“And I can trust you? A strange woman who is wearing someone else’s face and clothes,” she counters.

“Compared to anyone else here? Yes.”

She is about to say something but alarms sound. I leave the cell, closing the door with a last look at Wanda. I’ll get her out, I promise myself.

“What’s happening?” I ask, tucking the tablet away.

“We’re under attack.”

“Who?” Strucker asks.

“The Avengers.”

Shit. I sneak out and hear Strucker giving out orders. I find a server room and start downloading what intel I can about HYDRA’s plans and remaining strongholds for any clue on Sergeant Barnes’s locations and slip out. Rogers doesn’t need to know I was here with no back up.

The cold air greets me as I climb out of the base and start to discreetly make my way back to the town to catch a train to the next city to catch a flight back to DC

I feel someone behind me and I sharply turn, dodging their hold and kicking them in the knee by instinct. I stop when I see who it is. But he doesn’t as he goes in for a punch, I dodge and use his shield to propel myself backwards to get some distance between us.

“Steve! Don’t sneak up on a spy like that, you’re gonna get yourself killed.” I reach a hand down and he takes it as he gets back up on both feet.

He frowns under his helmet but there is no recognition in his eyes. I remember than the veil is still on my face so I peel it off and undo my hair.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Same as you,” I shrug.

“Did you come in with a team?” he asks concerned as he places his shield on his back. “Y/N where is your team? Did you not have back up?”

“I went in alone, okay?”

“Why would you do that?” Someone in his comms must have spoken because he turns away briefly. “I’m dealing with something but south west is clear.”

“It was just intel retrieval. Nothing big.”

“It’s you vs HYDRA, that’s not enough. Did you even have an extraction plan?”

“I was gonna take a train to Bucharest and then a plane back to DC.”

He gives me a what the fuck were you thinking look. “You ride back home with us. But for now… care to join us?”

I smirk. “How could I refuse?” We enter the compound to take down more HYDRA agents. As Steve kicks down an agent Strucker runs into us.

“Baron Strucker. Hydra’s number one thug,” Steve says, circling the man.

“Technically I’m a thug for SHIELD,” he retorts.

“Well then technically you’re unemployed. Where’s Loki’s sceptre?”

“Don’t worry, I know when I’m beat. You’ll mention how I cooperated, I hope,” he surrenders immediately. Suspiciously.

I frown and see the flowing red eyes in the shadows.

“I’ll put it right under illegal human experimentation. How many are there-”

“Cap!” I warn but it’s too late as Wanda hits him with a red surge of energy that knocks him down the stairs.

I’m ready in case Wanda comes for me but she doesn’t, just exiting the place and closing the door behind her.

“We have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage,” Steve says into his comms as he runs back up the stairs.

“You’ll have to be faster than that–“ I hit Strucker with a disc and he convulses as he falls.

“I love those things,” I remark.

Steve chuckles then picks Strucker up. “Guys, I’ve got Strucker.”

“Want me to keep looking for the sceptre?” I offer.

He nods. “I’ll take Strucker, you find Tony. Nat and Bruce are still on the field but Thor and Clint are on the jet.” At my confused look it’s like he read my mind. “Clint got hurt. But he’ll pull through.” He turns into his comms. “Tony, Y/N’s coming to you.” Steve gives me his communicator and leaves with Strucker.

I go back to the level where the twins were to start looking for Stark.

“Mr. Stark this is Agent – well former agent Y/N L/N, are you able to give me your 20?”

“Well, I found the sceptre. Bringing it up with me now. I was at the south corridor and I found a secret doorway.” I follow where he says, remembering the map I saw on the tablet. “Nice to meet you, former agent.”

“I’m nice to meet, Mr. Stark.”

“I like you.” He taps something on his bracelet and his armour envelopes him.

“Is that it?”

“Yep. Pretty underwhelming, huh?” he seems out of breath… shaken.

“Are you alright, Stark?”

“I’m fine,” he responds all too quickly.

“Let’s get to the jet,” I follow the coordinates that Steve sent me on my phone and the Avengers are all there waiting.

Natasha smiles as she sees me. “What a surprise,” she says going in for a hug as Stark hands the sceptre to Thor and starts up the engine.

“Whatcha doin’ all the way out here?” Clint rasps.

“I could ask you the same thing old man,” I lightly joke, weary of his injury.

“Who you callin’ old? We got a thousand year old and a hundred year old on board.”

“Alright, ease up before you hurt yourself even more,” Natasha says as she gives him a sedative.

Once Clint was passed out and secure I take a seat with Nat next to me.

“So what are you doing here?” she asks.

“Same as you.”

Raising a brow she sighs. “Don’t tell me Fury’s still working you?”

“Of course he is. We have to take down the rest of HYDRA.”

“That’s our job, now.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, you’re doing great just invading countries that already hate you and wrecking historical sites. Top notch spy work.”

“Not a spy anymore, Y/N and neither are you,” she retorts.

Steve enters our conversation, standing tall with his arms crossed. “What do you mean?”

“See, you don’t even do your research before you go in. What happened to knowing your enemy?” I ask them both.

“Last I checked our enemies were people we thought were friends so I think we know them pretty well,” Steve replies.

“The two enhanced?” I counter. “What do you know about them?”

“What do you?” Stark asks.

I smirk. “So nothing?” I pull out the tablet that miraculously did not take any damage. I turn it on and find the file on the twins. “They’re called the Maximoff twins; Wanda and Pietro. They were orphaned at 10 years old when a shell hit their civilian apartment in the Novi Grad Bombings. Sokovia has been in the middle of a rebellion for years now. They don’t like you guys very much. Wanda has… special abilities. Neuroelectric interfacing, telekinesis, mental manipulation,” at confused faces I simplify. “She can move things with her mind and read yours. The latter, she has kept from Strucker.”

“So how do you know about it?” Stark asks.

“Because I spoke to her,” I shrug. “I know she can read minds because she knew I wasn’t the doctor I took the identity of.”

“You got in proximity with them?”

I nod.

“You know how dangerous that is, Y/N? You could have gotten killed, going in there like that, all alone. Did anyone else know where you were?” Steve demands.

“Okay, one, I wasn’t alone, I had my weapons.” He rolls his eyes. “Two, that’s classified.”

“There isn’t a SHIELD anymore, Y/N. Information isn’t classified.”

“Then I’m not telling.”

“Why not?” Nat asks.

“Because you’ll yell at me.”

Steve presses two fingers on the bridge of his nose and huffs, knowing the answer.

“What about the other one? Pietro?” Stark asks.

“He’s just really fast.”

We land on the helipad at Stark tower and Helen Cho and Hill take Clint to patch him up. Steve asks about Strucker and we get the news that NATO has him and it’s all in all mission accomplished.

💖

Chapter 7

Thank you for reading everyone!

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!yeosang (part 5)

word count: 6k

angst, fluff (tw: postpartum depression)

(part 4) (miniseries masterlist)

kang jang-mi was born at seven pounds, four ounces on what felt like the hottest day in june. 

your friends sat anxiously in the waiting room, the last remaining quarrels about if it’s a boy or a girl quietly spoken and much more positive. mingi and yunho could only sit there sharing side-eyes and smirks, your slip up in the coffee shop filling them with excitement. 

“i still think it’s a boy,” jongho says, “i’m confident.”

“i already bought the it’s a girl balloon so it better be.”

“well i bought the it’s a boy balloon so...”

yeosang walking into the waiting room stops the conversation immediately, a smirk crossing his face at the two different types of balloons. the boys are up and out of their seats immediately, rushing over to the new father with a flurry of questions and comments. 

but the man is used to this type of chaos from his friends, silencing them with a single finger before attempting to get to all of their questions - or at least some of them. 

“y/n and the baby are okay. she can only see two people at a time and she personally requested mingi and yunho first.” 

disappointed sighs and groans leave the other boys as mingi and yunho shoot up from their seats, scurrying over to yeosang who shares a knowing smile with the couple. 

“wait, wait, wait,” jongho says when the three men turn to leave, yeosang looking him over questioningly. 

he watches with a growing smirk as his youngest friend grabs a blue balloon before snatching away san’s ‘it’s a girl’, offering them both to him expectantly. 

“which one?”

multiple heads of innocent bystanders and smirking staffs snap to the big group of men, surprised gasps leaving all of them when yeosang wordlessly takes the pink balloon and pushes mingi and yunho toward your room.

chaos erupts from the other group of boys being left in the waiting room, other bystanders and nurses watching along with wide-eyed expressions. 

“i told you, you silly fuck!”

“they got it wrong. i was- i was so sure.”

“did she really ask for us or did you feel bad that we were stuck with them?” yunho chuckles out, yeosang sharing a smirk with the boy as they walk down the hall.

“a little bit of both,” he says, stopping in front of the door and peeking inside. 

he can see through the window that your eyes are shut, the sweat once dripping down your face gone as you lay completely still and relaxed. 

the labor had been hard but you’d gotten through it well, to no one’s surprise. 

you squeezed his hand while you screamed and cried, swearing you were never gonna do this again and will only trust in condoms from here on out. you blamed him for his “kink for elevators” and only didn’t burst out laughing because he knew you were in pain. 

but now as lay still and healthy, your baby in the newborn unit adjusting to the new world, he feels a different type of content. all the fear and anxiety about the unknowns settled with the simple fact that you’re okay and the baby’s okay. 

“they’re both doing really good, though. y/n’s not mad at me anymore for getting her pregnant so that’s a good sign,” yeosang chuckles, his eyes looking toward you lovingly before meeting yunho and mingi’s gaze again.

“we got to talk and we wanted to ask you two something,” the boy says, his eyes moving from yunho to mingi before hardening slightly. 

“i wanted yunho as the god parent but y/n insisted that you have to be as well,” he says, underneath the mock look of disdain and irritation an intense happiness and warmth everyone can clearly see. 

“i don’t know want you thinking this was my idea. so... what do you guys say? wanna be godparents?” yeosang smiles, the overwhelming look in yunho and mingi’s eyes making him chuckle; they both look ready to cry and scream in joy. 

“maybe try to not let my daughter now you’ve tried to kill me on multiple occasions,” he adds to mingi, the boy rolling his eyes despite the way he reaches out and pats his shoulder. 

the movement’s a little awkward and unfamiliar but neither of the boys say anything, an unspoken respect and liking for each other that’s come about within the past years.

both of them know the other would never do anything to hurt you purposely and they know the same will be said for jang-mi. 

“of course, are you kidding me!” yunho chuckles out, pulling yeosang’s smaller boy into his. “thank you, yeosang. that’s so... this is gonna be so cool.” 

yeosang smiles and nods his head, looking back at you to see you’re now sitting up awake and stretching your arms up.

the three boys bursting through the door cause you to look over and smile lazily, a quiet, “hi,” before you’re promptly pulled into a hug. 

“be careful,” yeosang growls at mingi, the taller boy ignoring him completely; of course he was being careful, you just pushed out a baby a few hours ago. 

“how you feeling?” yunho asks before his smile widens. “i’m asking as, you know, the godparent...”

“you... asked them without me?!” you whined softly at yeosang, smacking him in the stomach as he throws his arms up defensively. 

“you were sleeping, baby, you said it was okay,” he whines back, bending down to peck a kiss on your head. 

“i know but i still wanted to-” 

the nurse knocking on the door rips your attention away, eyes wide and alert as you think she’s about to tell you something is wrong; but then she’s there smiling softly, holding a pink blanket with your baby wrapped up in it that causes mingi and yunho to gasp quietly. 

“oh, my god.... she’s so small,” mingi whispers, yunho snorting next to him as he throws his arm around his shoulder. 

“what’d you expect? she’s a baby,” he responds, watching as you so naturally take the baby in your arms. 

you’d always been a little scared of just how delicate newborn babies are, feeling awkward or nervous to take them or hold them in the wrong way. 

but it’s like the eight and a half month journey had made everything easier and more natural, the simple inclination you have even just to hold her properly something you couldn’t have ever imagined.

“come here,” you mumble softly, yunho and mingi moving closer to the bed to get a good look at her.

and as far as babies go, though they think they might be a little biased, they have to imagine she’s the prettiest one they’d ever seen. a head full of hair already and eyes gazing up at them curiously, alert and calm and making them coo quietly at her. 

“are we allowed to hold her?” yunho asks.

but before he gets the chance, five bodies barreling through the door with the nurse’s “wait, two at a time please!” distract all of you, the rest of the boys rushing through to get a look at you and the baby. 

“let us see, let us see!”

“i can’t believe it’s a girl.”

“wait.... don’t tell me they’re the godparents.”

if you thought the bickering that went on after the boys found out about who you chose as god parents was bad, you weren’t nearly prepared enough for your first month as a mother. 

your once peaceful and quiet apartment had quickly turned into chaos. it was the 7th night in a row you were awoken by your little girl’s screams and you weren’t sure if you could take much more of it. 

the first week was strangely blissful, you and yeosang taking shifts to feed her or check on her in the middle of the night. 

“mom, i’m telling you, everything is strangely.... really good?” you said on the phone foolishly, going on and on about how easy your baby was. 

how feeding her always went smoothly, how she basically slept through the night unless one small cry echoed through the baby monitor.

how you and yeosang loved just sitting around the house and watching her sleep or look up at you two curiously. 

how you couldn’t believe you’d gotten so lucky to have, both, an understanding boyfriend and well-behaved infant. 

but that all quickly changed one night, a summer thunderstorm you’re almost positively traumatized your daughter to the point of tarnishing her near-perfect sleep schedule. 

now she cried on the hour to just be held, feeding her at the normal times but then screaming her head off when you tried to place her back down. you’d fallen asleep in the chair holding her one too many times to count, tired and drained and just wanting to relieve your heavy eyes. 

yeosang admired your composure and helped along side the way, waking with you and kneeling down watching you hum softly or rest your eyes; but then you cracked the 7th night and, similar to your pregnancy outbursts, it seemed almost out of nowhere. 

it’d been his turn to get up and feed her, the wailing and screaming that’s kept you up for nights silencing just a few moments after it started. 

whether it be your own curiosity or your new mother’s protectiveness kicking in, you peeked inside the nursery to see yeosang staring down at your daughter. both of them are completely calm and relaxed in the darkness, only the sound of her soft breathing and yeosang’s gentle hums. 

as you lean against the door and watch them, you feel a strange mix of warmth and sadness.

you knew you were right in your assumption that yeosang was gonna be a great dad. he was kind and nurturing and sweet, you saw it in the way he took care of you and the other people in your lives.

and jang-mi from the moment she was in the world loved him, looked to him and was easily soothed by him - you could just tell they were gonna have a great relationship.

but you.

you felt as if you were failing. 

the nights you woke to feed her, she typically screamed and cried for what felt like hours. she’d only settle down in your arms when you’d start to hum the same tune as yeosang right now, something you both did during your months of pregnancy. 

it felt as if at nights, that with her new fears and rocky sleeping pattern, that in times of crisis, she wanted yeosang. 

and a part of you loved that but another part of you couldn’t help but feel powerless. that even after a month of bonding with your baby, smiling and laughing and holding her, after months of carrying her and helping her grow, she didn’t seem to like you. 

yeosang caught your gaze and you smiled at him softly, giving him a tired thumbs up before trekking back to bed. 

you tried to push down your feelings and felt bad for feeling this way, a knot in your stomach and pain in your chest; it wasn’t about jang-mi and yeosang or you and him as parents as much as it was about you feeling completely incompetent. 

you couldn’t even get your own baby to stop crying faster than yeosang; everyone says a mother has a natural tendency to do that so why does it feel like you don’t? 

the tears in your eyes are unaware to you until you push your face into your pillow and feel the wetness seeping through. you can only stay there buried in shame and defeat and embarrassment, knowing that while you’re in here crying, your baby is doing fine without you.

yeosang comes in a few moments later, only small whines from his daughter as he placed her body in her crib. she looked up at him and he smiled softly, reaching out to pat the peach fuzz on her head until she fell fast asleep.

the past month has been tiring but worth it, crawling in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“hopefully she’s good for the night,” he mumbled in your ear, his lips pressing against your head chastely. you only hum in response and at first he thinks it’s just because you’re tired but then he feels how tense you are.

how your shoulders are tight and your face is buried and it causes him to call your name gently. 

you’re not surprised that he’s able to tell something’s wrong, rolling over wordlessly and allowing him to see your tear-stained face. it immediately makes his heart sink, lips turning into a frown as he reaches out to dab at the wetness. 

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks lowly, voice sweet and tone deep and it only makes you break more. 

“you’re... you’re so good with her, yeosang,” you whimper out, his eyebrows pulling together as he wipes at your tears and pulls you closer. “you’re so good with her and she barely cries when you go in there... but when i go in there... i feel like i’m doing a terrible job.”

“what?” yeosang asks, genuine confusion in his voice as he pulls your face to meet his. there’s anxiety and sadness and defeat in your eyes, his hold on you tightening as he shakes his head. 

“no, no, baby. you’re doing so good and she loves you,” he reassures gently. 

“no i’m not,” you cry out, shaking your head as you feel all the stress and fear and anxiety from this pat month hit you. “i don’t know what the hell i’m doing.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says, a pout on his lips as he looks over your teary face. “we both still don’t know what we’re doing but it’s going well, no? i love you and she loves you.”

“no, it’s not,” you whimper out, burying your face in his shirt and feeling him sigh against you. “and she hates me. she only wants you at night and screams when i go in there. why else would she do that?”

your words are wet and muffled but he’s still able to make each one out, his heart breaking as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. 

“every day and night has been different, my love. some days she’s been good and others she’s been cranky. we’re all still adjusting and that’s okay,” he says quietly, reminding himself these exact words in his own fits of panic.

because of course he’s panicking half the time too but he tries to be strong for you. be a rock for you in a way you’ve always been for him. 

“you’re doing so good, baby, i promise. she wants you every morning, have you noticed that? i can go in there and pick her up but she cries. she only stops when she sees you walk through.”

“that’s only because she’s hungry,” you mutter, a humorless chuckle leaving yeosang’s mouth as he shakes his head. 

“no. because i feed her, too. she just wants to see you in the morning, baby,” he mumbles, holding himself above you so his eyes can roam your face. he presses a kiss on your cheek, then the other, until he’s pressing them all over you and you’re pushing him away playfully. 

“you’re doing great, love. we both are and she actually likes us, i think,” he says, flopping back down before pulling you on his chest. similiar to his movements from just moments ago in the nursery, his hand runs through your hair gently and you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

and sure enough, when you wake up, you hear cries coming from the nursery that have you springing up and out of your bedroom. yeosang’s holding jang-mi and he smiles knowingly at you, pressing a kiss to your head he passes her to you and her wails stop.

the next few months, you both became a little more confident in your parenting abilities. 

changing diapers was easier and waking up for nightly feedings was like clockwork, falling into a steady routine that consisted of yeosang taking online classes and going to work three times a week. 

on the days he was out, one of the five boys would come over and keep you both company - yeosang’s demand that one of them keep his girls busy and happy while he’s out. 

jang-mi was a little over six months now, laying on the floor with mingi while you cooked for the three of you. your days were the same at this point but you loved each and every one, cooped up in the apartment as you watched your baby grow and meet all her milestones. 

you’d been there for all of them and you prided yourself on that. the first time she smiled at you, the first time she reached out for the toy san had gotten her, the first time she-

“y/n!” 

you ran from the stove to the living room at mingi’s loud voice, rushing inside to see your best friend looking down at your child like she’d grown 3 heads. 

“what? what happened?” you ask frantically, rushing over to get a good look at her; she’s not crying and you don’t see any blood, those are already two reassuring signs.

“she just said my name!” 

and it’s at that you start giggling into your hand, covering your face and shaking your head because “mingi, she just turned six months. she can’t talk yet.”

“but she did! she just did! i swear she said-”

there’s a pounding on your front door before seonghwa, san and wooyoung enter, the three boys not even acknowledging you as they rush over to the baby on the floor. 

“hi to you guys too,” you huff, watching the boys crowd around the jang-mi with shouts of “hey, y/n!” a giggle leaves your mouth before you ditch the meal and order pizza instead, calling yeosang to see if he’ll be home soon.

“hey, baby. how it’s going?”

“the boys showed up so i just ordered pizza,” you tell him, watching as jang-mi giggles at san and wooyoung making funny faces at her. “are you gonna be home soon?”

“what, you miss me or something?” 

because after all this time you spend together now, more often than not during the week, leaving each other proves to be more difficult. you’d think you two would want a break from each other but him leaving is by far the worst part of your days on monday through wednesday. 

“yes,” you admit softly, his deep chuckle causing you to giggle softly. 

“i’ll be home soon. probably 30 minutes, just finishing up some stuff. will you be able to last that long?”

you roll your eyes and let out a scoff as you make your way into the living room, insisting to your boyfriend you’ll do just fine before your eyes catch mingi and jang-mi smiling at one another.

“oh. and you’ll be happy to hear that mingi thinks jang-mi’s first word was his name.”

“oh, bullshit,” yeosang snaps, a loud chuckle leaving your mouth that grabs said man’s attention. 

“it was! i heard her say it!” 

“she doesn’t even like you!” yeosang says loudly through the phone, the image of him screaming in his office making you giggle. you hang up before the two can start to bicker more, sliding your phone onto the table before sinking down onto the couch.

you’re still tired these days but the boys coming over helps, allowing you to relax while also watching jang-mi play and have fun. 

you don’t know when or how you doze off with the chaos, you just know that one moment you’re watching seonghwa tickle jang-mi and the next, you’re waking up to yeosang placing a kiss on your lips. 

“hey, love,” he mumbles, kneeling down to meet your gaze on the couch. you smile tiredly as you bury yourself into the cushions, pulling him closer to you and mumbling that you missed him.

“i know, baby, i missed you too,” he hums. 

because if there’s one thing he noticed throughout parenthood, it’s that, somehow, your relationship has only gotten stronger. 

you both have the same fears but also have the same things that make you happy - and that’s each other, your baby, and the headache inducing friends currently talking shit to your child. 

“they’re so gross, you’re gonna have a brother soon, mark my words, miss jang-mi.”

“nah, it’ll be another girl, i know it for sure now,” wooyoung says, dabbing at her face full of applesauce. “you’ll be an older sister, little lady.”

“he thought you were a chicken, mi, you really can’t take his word for anything.”

you and yeosang share an amused look before he pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the table before quickly pecking your cheek. he takes jang-mi for a diaper change as you talk and laugh with the boys, everything about your life right now far too perfect.

it was a rough start but they all made it a little easier.

you were lucky to have a great support system, albeit a little insane, that made this transition easy. 

there was nothing but love and admiration between all of you, their eyes lighting up every time jang-mi giggles or concern flashing when she stumbles down clumsily. 

like when yeosang comes back into the main room without jang-mi fifteen minutes later, they all jump up and demand to know where she is. 

“you idiots tired her out, she fell asleep in the middle of a diaper change.”

and with the baby sleeping and the rest of the night to yourselves, you and yeosang are quick to all but kick everyone out of the apartment. there’s loud protests and mock hurt from the boys but they know deep down, you two rarely get a minute to yourselves these days. 

mingi gives you a parting wink and you roll your eyes, waving goodbye to the boy before yeosang closes the door. he turns to see you cleaning up the table and quickly stops you, tugging you by the waist before promptly throwing you down on the couch.

you land with a giggle as his body covers yours, lips meeting yours in a kiss that quickly has your legs wrapping around his waist. 

it’s been a while since you two were able to do something as simple as make out, feel him under you as you straddle his lap or suppress your moans as his kisses down your neck. 

but right now, something as silly as kissing and giggling and roaming hands on the couch feels exciting. it feels the same way it did in the pool house all those years ago, fresh and fun and exciting. 

full of a passion that you hoped even then would never burn out. 

and not even now with a baby has it. not even with a real ‘adult’ life have you two ever felt as if that connection was gone.

“i love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your skin, your cheeks warming and stomach fluttering as you look up at him. there’s a soft pink glow to them that makes him smile fondly, his hand cupping your cheek gently. 

you can only nod shyly, your own softly spoken “i love you, too,” mumbled into the living room. 

the sky is an array of pink and orange, the sun just about to set before darkness paints the windows of your apartment. 

it’ll be a night for movies, snacks and resting your head on his lap, his hands playing with your before one of two things happens: jang-mi wakes up and you bring her out or you fall asleep and yeosang carries you into bed for the night. 

the latter had seemed to happen a few hours later because one minute, your head’s resting on yeosang under a blanket and the next, you’re placed down on your soft, cold bed. 

you let out a tired whine and yeosang smiles down at you, mumbling that you fell asleep before quickly joining you; it’s wednesday which means yeosang’s home for the next four days, your smile widening at that reminder before you move yourself closer to him. 

his days off now don’t mean you can sleep in but instead, wake together. make breakfast for each other while watching your child giggle and smile in her high chair. 

you used to go to the park on the days it wasn’t too cold but now with winter approaching, you’re usually cozied up in your house with the fire place burning and a cartoon on. 

switching between giving attention to each other and jang-mi, who promptly wakes you both up at 5:30 in the morning. 

you insist that yeosang sleeps in more, pushing him back down numerous times before he pins you to the bed and demands for you to go back to bed; a pout covers your lips as you shake your head but it’s like your tired eyes don’t get the memo.

“you worked for the past three days, you need to rest,” you whine tiredly, his eyes rolling because he’s positive sitting behind a desk and talking with his coworkers is a lot easier than taking care of a baby.

“i’m well rested, thank you, love,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling back. “mi will have to settle for her dad today.”

the two and a half hours of sleep were great but when you woke up and saw pancakes ready for you and yeosang and jang-mi laying together on the couch, you could’ve burst into tears on the spot.

he was talking softly to her, singing her name in a little tune before you heard his deep chuckle.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, both, his and jang-mi’s smiles brightening at the sound of your voice. she immediately opens her arms up for you and you take her happily, pressing a kiss to her head before looking at your boyfriend. 

the scent of pancakes is more prominent in the living room, looking over to see a plate of pancakes sitting atop the stove.

“thank you for breakfast,” you say softly, the smell filling the apartment making your stomach growl. 

“thank you for finally listening to me and sleeping in.” 

you roll your eyes before bringing your food over to the table, sitting on the floor as you watch jang-mi babble and play with her toys next to you.

she’s been babbling for the past few weeks now so when you hear her quiet, little “gigigi,” you don’t think much of it; but then when yeosang bursts out laughing again, you have to look to him with your mouth stuffed full of pancakes.

“what?”

“do you think that’s why mingi thought she was saying his name?”

a loud laugh bubbles out of your mouth causing jang-mi to jump before joining along, her own giggles and your reaction causing yeosang to snort into his hand. 

he’s quick to whip out his phone and record her, her smile and giggles quickly shifting when she rolls on her back and starts to play with her toes. 

and when mingi watches the video yeosang sends him a few moments later, he can’t help but gleefully send back that not only does his own child like him more, he said his name first.

it was a nosy, crotchety old woman at the food store that sparked the conversation of marriage between you and yeosang. 

you two were shopping for jang-mi’s first birthday tomorrow, her smiley and giggling form in the front of the cart, when an older woman commented on how beautiful she was. 

“thank you,” you smiled politely, you and yeosang sharing that same, warm look any time someone compliments your child. 

“you must’ve been a young bride, dear, you look like a baby too,” she chuckled, a smirk on yeosang’s lips as you let out a forced, almost strangled laugh. 

and it’s then the woman’s eyes move down your body to your ringless left hand, a look of judgment crossing her face quicker than you can believe. 

“oh... or not a bride, that’s....”

“none of your business, now is it lady?” yeosang says, his tone just as deceptively kind as hers even with the bite in it. 

she walks off with a huff and dirty look thrown your way, a smirk on your face before you push him down the cereal aisle. 

it bothered you a little bit when you first found about jang-mi, getting pregnant and not being married, but those feelings quickly went away when you thought about how silly that was. 

marriage is something that’s different for everyone and for you and yeosang, even with a baby, it’s not something you inherently need. you already live together and live your life as a married couple - all that’s left to do is blow money on the ceremony and go away to a tropical island. 

yeosang can’t help but be a little bothered by the woman’s words throughout the day, though probably because they were directed toward you, but he noticed you weren’t upset at all about it. 

you carried on in the store and at the house like normal, setting up decorations and planning the meals while he put jang-mi to bed by wrapping her in her birthday onesie. 

“hey, baby,” you hear him say, turning from your spot at the stove. 

he presses your back against it and you smile into the kiss, tilting your head coyly when you pull away. your eyes roam his face because you could tell that woman’s comment irritated him, you just weren’t sure why. 

“are you okay?” 

“mhm,” he hums lowly, his hands reaching up to run through your hair. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“i don’t know...” you mumble quietly, a smirk pulling at your lips before you bring your hand next to your face to wiggle your fingers. “maybe because we’re sinners who aren’t married.”

a snort leaves yeosang’s mouth as he shakes his head, pulling you by the waist in typical fashion to bring you over to the couch. you two plop down as you get comfy on him, resting your head on his shoulder and basking in his comfort and warmth. 

you’re not sure how long you sit in a comfortable silence for, you just know that everything is calm and quiet and it’s such a contrast to this time last year. when things were chaotic and you felt like you wouldn’t be able to handle motherhood.

when you weren’t sure how you and yeosang would be, if the dynamic and household was gonna be so different that it ended up breaking you guys down as a couple. 

and while things changed, it seemed to be for the better. it only made you two more happy and more secure, wedding band and your official last name as kang aside. 

“i don’t mind not being married,” you assure him quietly, because you know that’s the elephant in the room right now. 

“i don’t... want us to get married because we had a kid. i want us to get married when the time feels right. maybe when we’re both actually out of school or something,” you chuckle out, remembering when that was your original plan for popping out a kid. 

yeosang feels a weight lift off his shoulder as he looks over at you, unsurprised in the slightest that you not only knew what was wrong, but that you were able to calm him down.

assure him in a way that made him know you guys always seem to be on the same page when you effectively communicate about things. 

“i feel the same way,” he says to you, tightening his hold on you before pressing a kiss to your head. “even though if you wanted... i’d go out and-”

“buy a ring right now,” you tease, shimming over until you’re sitting on his lap. you twirl your fingers through his hair. “i think you’re just eager to buy the wedding ring.”

“duh, it’s gonna be flashy as fuck.”

your face pulls into one of disgust and he can’t help but laugh, knowing on more than one occasion he’s thought about what kind of wedding ring you’d want.

“i’d kill you,” you mumble, the last of your sentence getting cut off when he slams his lips on yours. 

“shut up,” he mumbles back, you giggling against his mouth before you move your hips over his teasingly. 

your clothes become littered on the living room floor before your naked body runs into the bedroom to grab a condom, the promise that you screamed through labor every bit true as you roll the latex over yeosang. 

“are you ever gonna trust birth control again? i miss feeling your warm, tight pus-”

you sink down on him and chuckle when he lets out a moan, rolling your eyes and riding him on the couch with the reassurance that, a month later, you won’t be needing to get another pregnancy test just yet. 

“no, no! say wooo-young!” 

“gi....gi.”

“woooo-young.”

“gi.....gi.”

“wooyoung.”

“gigi.”

everyone around the table snorts at the look jang-mi throws her uncle, her sweet little voice just as stern and face just as dumbfounded. 

“i told you guys, i’m her favorite,” mingi boasts, taking jang-mi from her seat and smiling when she clings on to him.

her first birthday consisted of cake, bickering and pink decorations placed throughout the apartment. her pile of toys in the living room and nursery doubled from the amount of gifts today alone, a giant dollhouse taking up a good portion of her room now.

it’s where she’s currently dragging mingi and, begrudgingly, wooyoung off to, showing them all her dolls and cars that they’ve gifted her throughout the first year of her life. 

you and yeosang watch her walk off, the two boys crouched and awkwardly walking like crabs so they’re down to her level. you both share a smile before yeosang pecks your cheek, cleaning up the leftover cake and plates while you share a smile with yunho. 

“can you guys adopt a baby?” 

you’ve never seen yunho’s face turn a brighter shade of red in your life, his hand reaching out to smack your arm lightly. 

“are you crazy?”

“oh c’mon,” you whine, a playful smile on your face as you poke his stomach with both pointer fingers. “isn’t it sweet watching mingi with a baby? he’s barely grouchy anymore.”

“maybe around her,” he scoffs, your eyes rolling because you know mingi isn’t as happy and pleasant around anyone as much as he is his fiancé - though next month, you’ll be able to say husband. 

it was quickly planned but the two decided to have a summer wedding, july 21st with none other than jang-mi as the flower girl. her dress is yellow and has been hung on her door for weeks, excitement rushing through her every time she sees it. 

“okay well then after the wedding, of course,” you wink, his eyes rolling; but you also don’t miss the shy smile and warm blush on his cheeks, knowing very well those two would create the best home for a child. 

yunho thinks maybe they would too, watching how quickly and naturally mingi surprisingly is with children. 

yeosang plops down next to guys and chastises you for bringing it up again, knowing from the look on yunho’s face you were probably begging him to adopt a cousin for jang-mi.

“oh c’mon, but wouldn’t it be cute?” you say, smiling up at yeosang in a way that causes him to tap your nose lightly. 

“it would be,” he mumbles, before pulling you closer to him. his lips ghost over your ear and it’s probably far too intimate a move with all your friends here but he does it anyway, having no regard or care in the world.

“or she could just... get another sibling.”

you narrow your eyes and smack his arm lightly, reminding yourself to stack up on more condoms when you go to the store tomorrow. 

“yeah, right. not for another year, yeosang, i’m serious.”

a smirk crosses his face as he nods his head, pecking your lips lightly before watching your daughter run clumsily to him. 

he scoops her up as her giggle rings through the air, his lips smacking loud kisses on her cheeks as she squeals loudly; and it’s upon seeing that you don’t think you’d mind having another baby again.

because planned or not, confident in your parenting abilities or not, you know you and your little family are always gonna be okay. 

jang-mi reaches out for you and you immediately rise to your feet, fixing the tiny ponytail atop her head right before her and yeosang place simultaneous pecks on your cheeks.

“cuteeee!” wooyoung squeals, looking over at you before squeezing past and poking jang-mi in the arm lightly. “now tell me, little lady, who’s your favorite? mommy or daddy?” 

she narrows her eyes at the man like he asked her something unholy, looking between you and yeosang before throwing her arms around both of you. you share a small giggle and place a peck on her head, your eyes catching yeosang’s just as he smiles back at you. 

“both. i love mommy and daddy,” she says, her squeaky little voice causing your smile to widen. 

“and gigi,” she quickly adds, a laugh bubbling out of you when everyone, including yeosang, let out groans and smack the favorite uncle in the arm. 

complete

tag list: @mirror-juliet​ @toffee-hwa​ @valhoez​ @miatsubaki23​ @mydaintydaisy​ @treasurehwa​ @markleeyeosang​

[emilyplaysotome]

Queen's Choice - Part 5

This is the fifth chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys.

Catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

He’s up before I am, but I’m not surprised. I wake to the smell of coffee and breakfast, and my stomach lets out a growl. I usually do without or pick something up on the way to the office, but I can’t pass up his cooking.

I’m surprised at how sore I am from the previous night’s activities and my cheeks burn as I think about everything that transpired.

I think about what it felt like to be under him and on top of him and how despite what we did I still want more.

I wonder when I got so greedy and I also realize I only have a week of having my cake and eating it too before I have to start making hard decisions, so I do my best to push down the unpleasant thoughts and focus on the man in my kitchen.

As I’m getting ready, my phone lights up with a notification from Kiro.

“It's just that I'm...back in town! You doing anything tonight?”

I can still smell Victor on me and it feels almost wrong to reply, but I do.

“Nada! Want to hang?”

“Something like that 😈 - I have a concert tonight and got you a VIP pass. I want you in the front row”

“…And I have a surprise for you before.”

“Oooh! A surprise. Like candy?” I type back with a grin.

“Something a bit spicier…”

With that he sends me the address with a time and I open the door to see Victor enjoying coffee and a plate of eggs with toast waiting for me.

“Good morning sleeping dummy. I thought I’d be off on my work trip before you even woke up. So glad you could join me.”

He’s laying it on thick, but we kiss good morning as if we’ve been together for years. It’s just a peck on the lips but it makes this all feel very domestic and I take my seat next to him before digging in.

The food is amazing, which isn’t a surprise.

Victor smiles as he watches me eat with gusto and even though we’ve done this kind of thing before, having followed what we did last night it feels more intimate. There’s a moment where I look at him and smile and realize that the pendulum to my clock has stopped moving and I realize that he’s frozen us in this moment.

“I need to leave,” he explains, gently wiping some crumbs from my mouth. “But I don’t want to quite yet.”

It’s romantic and sweeter than I’m used to him being.

I feel myself swooning a bit and I take a gulp of the juice next the coffee he’s made and kiss him. A real kiss where I hope I taste like OJ and everything sweet instead of the savory breakfast he’s made for me. I can feel it starting to escalate but he gently pushes me away and says, “I need to go.”

“When do I get to see you again?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“I’ll be away on business. I’ll write when I’m back.”

I nod but am reminded of how important Victor is.

How unavailable he is at times.

He must see this and he kisses me gently again and says, ”I trust you’ll keep yourself occupied so you won’t miss me too much, yes?”

I nod, guiltily thinking about the fact I’ve already made myself plans with another man and that after signing the contract I thought about how I could see the others before time ran out for one of them. I don’t know if he sees through me, but he kisses my forehead and tells me to be a good girl while he’s away before putting on his jacket.

When he’s at the door he looks at me with a naughty smirk and says, “When I’m back we can live out your fantasy in my office. Until then I look forward to hearing what you dream up next in your bed about me.”

I feel myself go bright red and yell, “Have a good trip!” and hear the sound of his low laughter and the click of the door before I’m left alone with my breakfast and thoughts.

I think about how easy it’s been to float between four men and how they all come and go in a way that makes me question if any of them could be present in the way I want.

In the way my perfect one would be.

—

I forget about my worries and get lost in work, planning our next episode of Miracle Finder with Anna. We budget and make phone calls and laugh about challenging production experiences and before I know it the day is gone and it’s time to hit the gym.

I change into my clothes and I catch a small mark on my breast. I question who it’s from and why I don’t feel more satiated.

I had thought that by being with each of them, I would have some clarity but if anything I feel it has muddied things. I wonder if I need to try again. Or until Victor’s contract forces my hand.

It’s then that I shower him off of me and I feel a pang of melancholy.

I’m surprised by the fact that I liked having him on me but I’m about to meet Kiro and that feels like a personal line I don’t want to cross.

—

The security at the venue is insane and I question if I’ll be able to make it back to the green room where Kiro instructed me to meet him. It’s only by chance that I run into Savin by the entrance and he escorts me through the labyrinth-like backstage, dropping me at the door before running off to take care of something else.

I knock and hear a cheerful voice inviting me in. I open it and enter, seeing Kiro in all his pop star glory, styled to the max but reclining on the couch, Nintendo switch in hand.

“Miss Chips you made it!”

“I did.”

He throws the switch aside and jumps up to greet me, giving me a deep kiss before evaluating my appearance.

“So cute. I don’t know how I’m going to stay focused on the concert with you up front looking like this…not to mention what I’ve planned for us.”

“For us?”

I can’t help but giggle as he gives me a little twirl before running off to get the surprise he’d mentioned but that I’d already forgotten about. It’s a box that gives few clues about its contents, and I open it and discover what looks like a sexy underwear set.

“Put it on.”

“Now? But…”

“Now. It’s locked, no one will come in.”

There’s an impish look I haven’t seen before and I obey, surprised that he runs over and turns his attention to his laptop instead of on my naked form. I can feel that there’s something…in this underwear, pressed up against my most sensitive spot and I don’t quite understand until I’m in it and he’s looking at me with a smile.

“I made this just for you,” he says with a smile.

“Made it?”

“Programmed it for your pleasure tonight…”

He starts to sing a soft melody that I recognize as his song “Key to your Heart” and the moment his voice hits the word “Key” I feel a vibration that’s subtle enough to go unnoticed by someone next to me but present enough to trigger a moan out of me.

His eyes are glued to me and he gets up and reaches out to gently touch my face before running his hand down lower to play with my breast the way he did when we were in the shower.

“Clever isn’t it?”

I realize that the word “Key” activates the mechanism, and knowing that I alone know his secret alter ego, I desperately try to regain my composure and say, “It’s a nice touch. How do I stop it?”

“I love you Kiro.”

“What?”

“Say it.”

I pause and he smirks and sings, “The KEY to your love…” and the intensity of the vibration increases.

I moan, “I love you Kiro” louder than I expect and the vibration stops.

He laughs and kisses me.

“Anyone else will think you’re just a fan, but I’ll know what’s happening.”

“I didn’t realize you played dirty.”

“I play to win…always.”

I can tell he’s serious and his gaze has an intensity it usually lacks. He doesn’t feel like the jovial, playful boy that I spent the past couple years with. He suddenly feels more mature and I find myself wanting his touch before the concert, but Savin’s knock interrupts us.

“Be right there!” He yells back, switching into his sweetheart persona.

“5 minutes,” Savin says from behind the closed door.

“Got it. I’ll see you backstage.”

Savin grunts in reply and it feels like my heart is the only one that’s racing.

“We’ll finish what we’ve started after the concert,” Kiro says, slipping a VIP lanyard around my neck. “See you here after the encore.”

He doesn’t touch me, even though I’m riled up and I have no choice but to find my place in the crowd for his concert. When it starts I realize he’s only a few feet above me and while he does his typical amazing performance, I can feel him watching me through most of it.

He insists on saying the secret phrase more than usual, and I do my best to keep my composure in the crowd, too embarrassed to shout “I love you Kiro” as often as he says “Key”. The girls around me all squeal when he looks our way, which is often, and I struggle not to let his toy get the better of me.

I can tell he’s getting riled up too, watching me from the stage, because his eyes turn gold and he lets everyone know that the encore is coming early tonight. None of them care, especially not me, and within 20 minutes of the last song I’m back in the green room being bent over a couch that has seen years of this kind of behavior.

My clothes are still on but the underwear he gifted me is down around my ankles and he makes lewd comments as to how his toy has made it easy to have me. I’m almost embarrassed by my own wetness but he continues to moan filthy commentary as he fucks me which is far filthier than I ever expected him capable.

I realize that neither one of us were as sweet as we pretended to be with the other.

He flips me over and lifts me in a princess carry for a moment before laying me down on the couch. He spreads my legs in a way where I'm half laying, half sitting, exposed on the very edge to him and he enters me again. He nips at my neck, and lightly pinches my breast, toying with me, teasing me like he did all night and once again there’s a knock from Savin.

“Kiro - you’ve got a meet and greet in 15.”

He smirks but doesn’t stop.

“But I’ve got 15?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all the time I need. Thanks Savin.”

I cover my mouth as to not alert his manager to what’s actually happening behind the door as he ups the intensity of his movement. He has full control over me and my pleasure and much to my excitement (as well as my disappointment), Kiro keeps his promise to Savin.

—

We say goodbye a few minutes before the meet and greet, drenched in our own sweat and fluids but riding some endorphin high from the night.

He doesn’t mince his words this time.

“You know I’m in love with you right?”

“I…”

“And you know I play to win, right?”

I nod.

“Then I’ll be seeing you soon."

I watch him pause at the door before he looks back and adds, "Sooner than anyone else if I have to.”

“But what about your world tour?”

Savin knocks from beyond the door, but doesn’t want to leave this time.

“Kiro come on. Chop chop. I promised my wife I’d be home to put the kids to bed tonight, let’s go.”

I don’t know why, but I hide when he exits so it seems as if Kiro was in the green room alone before I compose myself to head home. I pass girls wearing t-shirts with Kiro’s face plastered all over them and I think about what we just did.

I think about how he’s off to meet fans, covered in me just as I am covered in him.

I think about what he said and how they all basically said it.

How I keep being asked to choose.

I still don’t want to choose.

It feels like a helpless situation, being pulled in all directions. I approach an intersection and looking at the traffic light, a lightbulb goes off in my head. I stop where I am on the sidewalk to send the exact same text to all four of them.

“Can I see you on Saturday?”

I have no idea what it is that they'll say, but on the small chance that this goes the way I think it might, I might have found a catch. I smile to myself, no longer feeling as conflicted and walk to pick up some dessert to enjoy when I'm home.

Cake perhaps.

It seems fitting for an occasion where having cake and eating it too applies to more than just sweet nothings...

--

Part 6

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[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Four (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, MURDER, GORE.

wc; 8.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Even though the Hunger Games doesn’t start until ten, you’re in the betting room at nine. You’re not the first and only mentor to come down bright and early, there’s plenty of others who are already making their way around the room. Shaking hands, exchanging compliments and holding friendly conversation.

You’re not exactly the same way, as you stand off to the side, gnawing on your thumb’s nail. You’ve watched Annie and Marsh’s odds bob up and down plenty of times already, as the gamemakers try to decide where they belong last minute. So far, Annie and Marsh are back to back in numbers, with Marsh being on top.

“You’re stressed.”

Gloss is staring up at the betting board when you look over at him. He’s got his arms crossed, serious and straight-faced. In the past, he would be some type of excited because of their undeniably fantastic tributes. This year is different, as you’ve already discovered many times. His male tribute scored lower than usual, and the girl is higher by one single point.

It’s normal for the careers to score from anywhere between eight and ten, but that doesn’t mean they want an eight. They want nines and tens, because it shows proficiency and dangerousness. Plus, it’s normally District Four who’s scoring eights and whatnot. A good example of that is when Finnick scored the number when he was fourteen.

Today’s seriousness doesn’t reflect the attitude that was being presented last night. Last night was much livelier, a laughing group of mentors on the streets of the Capitol. Of course, as Finnick requested, you all stayed inside and in private rooms for most of the time, but eventually he decided that he wanted to experience the festival the way you guys normally do.

Which is practically chaos, as Gloss and Enobaria feed into each other’s bad thoughts and drag you around the city doing whatever they want. Trying on regular Capitol wear, buying replica crowns that Snow places on the brows of victors. They try different drinks and foods, all a hundred different flavors, some sweet, others sour, sometimes spicy.

The Capitol is a playground to them, and it’s fun to watch them break rules and create their own. Playing games on the sidewalk to see who will chug the next cherry vodka, who will lose a shirt or a sock or a piece of expensive jewelry down a storm drain. The night of the interviews is the only night where you all get to be your true selves.

Even Finnick felt comfortable enough to join in on your antics. It’s always a night to remember, you’re sure that he’ll be using it to tell stories in the future. The year where you cornered Finnick to helping you, and how he saw that you weren’t always who you pretended to be. It’s easy to be professional when you don’t like someone, but it’s harder to contain yourself when you’re surrounded by people who understand what you’re going through.

Of course, it’s only one night. If your tributes die, you get sent home, so you never have the chance to congratulate and celebrate with your friends after they bring home another tribute. You can always say your peace the next year, but by then they’re over it, and they’re ready for another victor.

“So are you.” you playfully punch his bicep, “Look at you, you never cross your arms.”

He gives you a smile, “Whatever, it’s not that much of a giveaway.”

“You’re right, it was definitely your face. You never scowl.” You look at the board again to see that all the numbers seem to be locked, “Careful, you’ll end up with wrinkles. After that, people will really begin to realize that you’re older than Cashmere.”

The board is a little confusing at first to get used to, but after years of looking at it, you’ve grown accustomed to it. At the top reads ‘MORNING LINE ODDS’, and below is a row readied for how many days, hours, minutes and seconds the tributes have been inside of the arena. Which is none at the moment, so instead they have a countdown going on. Fifty-four minutes. Less than an hour.

Below it are more rows and information about the tributes. The left states their district, and then it splits into two. The Capitol doesn’t care about names anymore, just the important parts. Their heights, weights, ages, betting odds and faces are displayed for everyone to see.

For Gloss and Cashmeres tributes, they’re both doing fairly good on odds. The girl has a predicted 5-1 chance of winning, and the boy has a 7-1. In the past, the roles have been reversed, the boys always show a brute strength during their private training so it’s hard not to score like that. Enobaria and Wades tributes are better, even with the repeating numbers. The girl has a 5-1 too, but the boy holds a 3-1 because of his score.

The gamemakers are used to your tributes’ scores teetering on the edge of very good and mediocre, which normally earns them a 9-1 or lower. However, since your tributes have shown promise through personality and matching high numbers, you’re staring at a 7-1 for Marsh and a 8-1 for Annie. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than the past scores.

You think that the lowest you’ve seen for District Four is a 20-1. That was a particularly horrible year, and since then you’ve learned to stop the problem before it gets too bad to be fixed. Maybe it’s attitude, maybe it’s not caring for training, you’re there with dead eyes and mean words to put them back in their place. They like to self-sabotage, not a good thing to do when you’re going into the Hunger Games.

On one hand, you’re thankful for the morning line odds, because it gets the betters a sense of direction of which tributes they should sponsor and keep an eye on. But sometimes it seems futile when the sponsors will do whatever they want, or go for the more obvious and favorable tributes--cough cough, Districts One and Two. You can never go wrong betting on the districts that practically get a winner every year.

“Haha.” Gloss says in regards to your age comment, “Where’s Finnick?”

You shrug, “Couldn’t find him at all this morning.”

It’s true, you searched the entire apartment three times before leaving. The living room, the kitchen, the balcony, your bedroom, his bedroom, even in the hallway and stairwell. There wasn’t a single trace of Finnick anywhere, it didn’t even look like he spent the night in his room, but you definitely remember him going in there last night.

Whatever, you’re not all that upset. It’s the first day, and even if there’s a lot that happens on the first day, sponsorships aren’t one of them. The first day relies on the tributes to get used to their surroundings and figure things out for themselves. The second day is when mentors and sponsors begin to collaborate.

Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be down here anyway. It’s nice to make friends while you can. You’ll just have to talk to Finnick later about him helping you down here. The whole reason why you’ve called on him for help this year is because of the betting room. An extra pair of eyes, ears and hands helps out, it goes a long ass way. Two people mingling is better than one. You can pull more sponsors together.

You glance at Gloss, “Where’s Cashmere and the others?”

“Wade’s here,” Gloss turns, thumb jabbing in the direction. He’s got the spot perfectly right, you’re able to see that Wade is surrounded by Capitol people, all laughing and joking around, “Cashmere and Enobaria will be down here later. They’re sleeping in, I think.”

“Well, after last night…” you trail off with a small smile, and Gloss snorts.

It’s quiet between you two as you watch the time tick down. Thirty minutes left, the tributes are close or in the catacombs at this point. Judging by the small glimpse the gamemakers gave this year, you think that the arena’s going to be sunny. They’re probably dressed in regular clothing, stuff that won’t make the tributes too hot but won’t allow them to get cold easily.

Honestly, at this point, you’re tired of the build up. 

“At least your tributes’ odds are doing well this year.”

“Tell me about it. But it came at a price, since yours fucked up during training.” you run a hand through your hair, getting annoyed when it falls back in your face.

“There’s always room for redemption.”

Redemption, what a pointless thing to bank on, “Right.”

You’d tell him it’s good to have hope, but when has hope ever helped you? It’s always a letdown. And out of all tributes that are about to enter the arena, the careers aren’t the ones that need hope. It’s everyone else.

More silence, you mindlessly watch the time tick down. Thirty minutes, twenty, fifteen, ten. Everyone starts getting antsy around five, you and Gloss stand behind the rows of chairs that begin to fill with citizens. Wade comes around and joins the two of you, talking about what he discovered during conversation.

He was going after their opinions on the tributes. And while they have sung good praise of their tributes, as usual, they also couldn’t stop bringing up Marsh in particular. There were constant comments on how they had wished that he would’ve gotten more time on stage. It was new to them, and they liked the new approach. 

You figure that other mentors will start telling their tributes to follow in Marsh’s footsteps, and after that the comedy skit will be ruined and you’ll have to find something else that’ll catch attention. At this point, everything possible has been found and exploited until it got old. 

Twenty seconds until it hits a minute, which is when they’ll raise the tributes. The games don’t officially start until that minute is over. The clock will flip, and then it’ll start from the bottom up. You clench your teeth, spinning your ring around your finger over and over. Annie and Marsh are in the tubes, submerged in darkness, you can feel it yourself, the stomach lurching and the dread and regret. It’s too late now, they have to fall through on what they’ve built so far.

They’ve got this. They’ve got this. They’ve got this.

The clock hits a minute and five seconds, you can begin to see the tops of tributes heads. You lean forward slightly, eyes searching for Annie and Marsh, and find them easily. They’re close together, maybe two tributes between them, which is good news. They can see each other and decide what they want to do. You hope they discussed some sort of plan at some point regarding how they want to start their games off.

The cornucopia this year is silver and placed in the middle of a field of flowers. The grass is tall too, but thin enough to see where the gamemakers have placed the goodies outside of the cornucopia this year. As the camera pans around the tributes, you’re able to catch glimpses of the arena.

A field of flowers, hills that seem to stretch forever and offer little to no protection. In the distance is… a village? Others must see it too, because whispers break out, predictions on which tributes will immediately run for it. It’s an obvious place to go, Annie and Marsh won’t head there first. They’ll go for a better place.

However, it’s not inevitable, it’ll probably be the first place where the careers will go to get as many people out as possible. For a quick and scary moment, you think that this will be a fast Hunger Games. Whatever happens, just let one of your tributes last until the end.

One last shot before the sixty seconds is over, and it feels like you’ve been stabbed in the heart. 

The dam that they showed--the preview--they must’ve edited it or something with how they made it look so small and not at all threatening. You thought it was holding back a small river, especially with the stream of water that was coming from it. But this--this is not for a river. This is for a fucking lake.

“Oh my fucking god.” you lace your fingers, placing your hands on the back of your head.

“Wow.” Gloss utters, “Yeah that isn’t at all what they showed us.”

From what you can tell, the tributes are supposed to be far away from the dam, a couple miles at least. But it’s still big enough to see through the trees, and tall enough to block some of the sky. Actually, it reminds you of the cliffs in your games. The cliffs were a two day walk from the cornucopia, and yet you could see them over the tops of the trees.

No one in their right mind would head towards the dam, especially with the chance that it would break. It’s just not common sense, and Annie and Marsh have shown promise when it comes to thinking logically. Which means that they would have to head the other way… towards the village.

They’re fucked. Everyone in that arena is set up for failure. You give it a couple of days, maybe a week and a half at most. No one in their right mind is going to want to stay next to the dam, but on the other hand they won’t want to get killed. And you can hide near the dam at the beginning of the games, but eventually if you want to head towards the village and clear hills, people will see you coming from a mile away.

You clench your fists, gritting your teeth more as your nails dig into the skin on your palms. 

Out of all the arena’s that you’ve seen, this is by far the worst. It’s a trap, there’s no choice but to fall victim to it.

“Well, there goes literally everything.” Wade lets out a laugh.

“The others should be down here.” Gloss says.

He’s referring to Enobaria, Cashmere and Finnick, and he’s completely right. They won’t know what’s happening or the situation until later. By then, it’ll be too late. The bloodbath always costs around seven to ten lives, and if they all scatter towards the village, you think at the end of the day, half the competition will be gone.

The countdown has reached five, you watch as Annie and Marsh prepare to run into the cornucopia. It isn’t a bad choice, they’re good fighters. As long as they don’t go too far in, maybe grab the supplies that are only a few feet away from the mouth, they’ll be golden. You hope they realize this.

The gong sounds.

It’s only been a couple of seconds, and a handful of tributes are already heading towards the village. Others dare to run towards the dam, but they’re all apprehensive and continue to steal longing looks at the cornucopia and beyond that. They’re not the focus of the cameras, though.

The bloodbath is horrible as usual. Annie and Marsh are next to each other, stealing things out of the grass, shoving them into an empty backpack. Sheets of plastic, bread, firestarters, rope, water jugs. You watch with furrowed eyebrows, trying to keep track of the careers and the deaths.

On the side of the screen is a list, one at a time names and districts appear. The girl from Six, the boy from Eight, the girl from Eleven, the boy from Twelve. Two minutes in and four are already dead. Annie and Marsh head towards the cornucopia quickly, a plan already in mind.

Marsh slips inside of the cornucopia, making your heartbeat in your ears, body filling with adrenaline. Stupid move, going inside traps you there. Not even in your games did you go inside all the way. He’s gone for ten seconds, twenty. Annie doesn’t appear to be worried at first, but it changes when a career sets their eyes on her.

The boy from One.

“Oh, here we go.” you cross one arm over your chest, the other covering your mouth.

Annie ditches the backpack, throwing it against the cornucopia to keep it clear of her path. Out of nowhere, she pulls out a knife, spinning it between her fingers to make sure that the boy knows she has it. Her body curls in forward, chin dropping downwards.

She would look threatening, as if she has a chance at winning this fight if it weren’t for the short blade that the boy has. He comes towards her, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips. He swings, she dodges easily and advances forward. Annie isn’t a runner, especially not when she has a plan. 

This is life or death, Annie. This isn’t practice anymore. This is for real.

He swings again, she moves out of the way and comes closer, a little out of range. The boy is becoming frustrated, and his swings begin to cut close. Annie side steps, you can see the blade cut through her shirt, when the boy holds his blade up, you can see a glint of blood. Annie doesn’t even look phased.

Where the hell is Marsh? You look at the corner of the screen, reading over the new list of deaths. The boy from Eleven, the girl from Twelve, the girl from Ten. Seven dead, the bloodbath is practically over, Annie and Marsh need to get out of there now.

He swings again, cutting Annie’s upper left arm. She barely acknowledges it, when the gamemakers change camera angles, you can finally see her face. All those times you’ve watched her fight the other kids at the boarding school, she’d be able to sweep most of the kids with her eyes closed. On the days you and Anchor permitted actual harm, she became more serious about fighting.

Annie shifted in those moments. Her eyes dead, locking on the target in front of her. She always has a plan, always ready to move and bait the person in. She’ll tense in sticky situations, but always find her way out of it. She became unlikable when fighting others because of this. Always said that it was an unfair fight. 

And she’s about to bring the boy from One down.

The boy swings one more time, Annie moves out of the way in time for him to miss. Not a second later, she’s launching towards him, the knife perfectly aimed for his stomach. He’s quick to try and slash at her, so she has to drop the knife in the grass and grab his wrist instead, falling on top of him.

Annie slams her knee into the boy's left wrist, and uses both of her hands to force the sword in the other hand, down towards his throat. His face turns an angry shade of red, eyebrows forced so close that there’s a deep crease between them. Annie’s face is determined, the kind and polite girl that you saw yesterday evening is nowhere to be seen.

It’s a struggle between them, Annie’s got a tight grip around his wrist, knuckles turning white. She grits her teeth, lip curling, lets up for a moment on the arm, only to go crashing back down. The boys’ locked arm breaks, and the sword slides through his throat. Red, thick blood comes out of his throat, painting his tan skin and the silver blade.

Annie lets out a sound, pulls out the sword, and slams it into his forehead. On the side of the screen, the boy from One appears. You let out a breath, watching as Annie gathers her things. It’s right on time for Marsh to come fighting out, the girl from One trying to stop him. His face is twisted like he’s in pain, but it’s just how he focuses too.

If they knock out District One, Gloss and Cashmere go home. It’s over, and all you have to worry about is the District Two tributes. For the first time in a very long time, District One won’t survive past the first day. 

It doesn’t work out like that, Marsh sends a harsh kick to her leg and she crumples. He and Annie regroup, and the two of them take off running towards the dam, the backpack bouncing on Annie’s back, Marsh tightly holding onto his favorite weapon. Annie now has the short blade to use.

“Okay.” you breathe, because it could be worse. 

The village is going to be a slaughter, so you don’t blame them for running towards the dam. They just need to find another place to stay soon, and hope that the careers don’t come towards them for revenge.

“Congrats.” Gloss has got a smile on his face, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, I guess. One more tribute and you get sent home.” you raise your eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes, “They’ll have to try really hard to get that to happen.”

“Anything is possible!” you cheer.

The bloodbath lasted about twenty minutes, even if it didn’t feel like it. The main career group has three left; two girls and one boy. Annie and Marsh are still very much alive, taking camp by the dam. The total bloodbath deaths is eight. Districts Eleven and Twelve are gone; Parry, Seeder and Haymitch are going home.

They’re nowhere to be seen, which you can’t really blame them for. Haymitch is the only victor in his district, and Parry won ten years ago so he replaced Chaff when it comes to mentoring. After a long streak of losing, you’re sure that you’d find yourself holed up in the apartment too. Why bother showing up in the betting room if you know your tributes won’t make it past the first day?

Although, District Eleven typically has their tributes last a while longer. But you guess it’s different this year since both of their tributes ran into the cornucopia on the assumption that they’d make it out alive. At this point, no tributes make it out alive unless they’re very good at fighting or they can slip between fingers.

You take a look at the betting board to see that the dead tributes are greyed out since they’re impossible to bet on. Everyone else who’s still alive have had their odds increase slightly. Now that the gamemakers have seen survival and fighting skills come alive, they can determine how the rest of the games are going to go much better.

The girl from One has increased to a 4-1, the other two careers stay the same. Annie has gone from an 8-1 to a 6-1, Marsh stays the same. Killing the career boy has done her good. Your two tributes will have sponsors around the corner in no time. You think that Finnick will be excited to hear this.

On screen, the careers gather what they need and air out of the cornucopia, heading towards the village, as predicted. For a second, there’s a disagreement, as the girl from One wants to head after Annie and Marsh to take care of them before they become a serious problem, but the other two vote against her, so she’s stuck going towards the village.

Annie and Marsh aren’t the only two who went towards the dam, there’s about three to four others who are there too. Still, the majority went straight for the village, which could very well be because it’ll give them cover from any of the elements, but you can’t imagine that there’s any sort of water source. The gamemakers like to keep the sources to a minimum and in one spot to make sure that the tributes come across each other on refills.

With the bloodbath being over, you can breathe. You, Gloss and Wade take a seat on a couch nearby, with you and Gloss being pressed against the arms, and Wade being sat in the middle. You’d say that it’s crowded, Gloss and Wade aren’t the smallest guys to exist, but there’s still enough breathing room between all of you.

You tap your fingers against the arm of the chair, watching as the cameras all split into groups. Annie and Marsh being one, still running into the woods to put as much distance between them and the cornucopia as possible. The second team of tributes being District Seven, as they’re working together this year, heading towards the left, away from the stream of water that Annie and Marsh are unintentionally going to come across.

The other two tributes by the dam are the girl from Eight and the boy from Five, scattered in their own special way, but not shown individually on screen. They’re not as important, it looks like the gamemakers are focusing on alliances at the moment. Next up are the careers, taking their time with making their way down and over the grassy hills. They’re digging through their backpacks and laughing about something.

There’s no alliance in the village at all. After a few more seconds of glimpses of the alliance tributes, it’s switched to individual. From what you’re able to see, the village is pretty big. At least six tributes are scattered inside of houses or making their way as deep inside as possible. As far as the forest goes, two people are wandering around. There’s only one tribute that you can’t decide where they are because of the way she’s cleverly placed herself.

The bloodbath canons begin to go off now, there’s a series of different reactions. Eight deaths in the bloodbath isn’t even that uncommon, the most you’ve probably seen before is twelve. Hell, in your games you think that there were nine total. Typically, the tributes have enough common sense to save themselves right off the bat.

“What do you think the dam’s about?” Gloss suddenly asks.

Your eyes slowly land on him to see that he’s waiting on you and Wade. Wade shrugs his shoulders, not knowing what to say. They don’t know? How can they not know? You thought that the dam was pretty straight forward. Maybe they weren’t standing in front of the tv close enough to see the cracks.

A part of you wants to tell them what your predictions are, but you bite your tongue and shrug too. In the past, mentors have been able to send secret messages to tributes. It happened in your games, it’s happened in others, and you’ve even sent a couple when it was direly needed. So telling them could backfire in your face.

Even if you’re friends with them, sometimes you can’t trust to give others certain information. It’s so risky, knowing that the other mentor can easily pass off the information. Especially during the initial week inside of the Capitol. The tributes are at your fingertips.

It’s why you resort to being mysterious most of the time. While your mentor friends have nothing to hide because they put their plans out in the open from the start—because you all know that it’s no secret that the careers are powerhouses. You rely on the element of surprise to get you through literally everything.

The mentors can’t tell their tributes what your opinion is if you don’t give one. They can’t tell them that you’re sure your tributes are absolutely deadly and pose one of the biggest threats in the arena this year. They have to rely on past experiences to make predictions, but even then, sometimes districts manage to pull surprises out of nowhere.

The clock hits the first hour mark, by then the careers have made it to the village. Already beginning to weave their way in and out of houses. They’re not exactly quiet, so if a tribute hears them coming, they’ll easily be able to hide before the career gets to them.

Well, that’s what you think. However, every time a tribute is shown individually, you see that there’s nothing to hide behind. There’s no doors, and if there are, they’re broken or falling apart from years with no use. It’s like a terrifying game of hide and seek, but there’s hardly hiding. It’s a game of skill and luck now. 

Luck that you won’t get found or your house won’t get chosen. That the career will come just close enough but turn their back at the last second when they decide that a place is clear. But it’s skill, testing the careers senses. Seeing if they properly know how to clear an area completely of tributes.

Just like how luck wasn’t on the side of these tributes when their names got chosen, it’s not on their side when it comes to hiding in plain sight, either. One by one, they’re all found.

The first one is the girl from Five, pressed tightly against the wall, holding her breath with tears slowly coming to her eyes. You can practically hear her chanting in her head, “Please don’t find me, please don’t fine me—“

The girl from One rounds the corner, without a single hesitation, she shoves the sword through the other girls’ stomach before the girl can defend herself. The sword pins the girl to the wall, blood spilling out of her stomach. Five has her mouth open in shock, eyes locked on the weapon, fingers fumbling to touch it.

One looks pleased, a smile creeping onto her face. For a moment, you can see Cashmere in her. The blonde hair, the green eyes, they all look the same in District One. All the same form of deadly, and they pull sponsors without even having to try because of their good looks. But everything comes at a price, and Cashmere was no exception.

Five doesn’t have a chance to plead, One pulls out her knife and finishes the job. A canon goes off, another teenager greyed out on the betting board. Nine dead. A sick feeling in your stomach tells you that this is going to be another bloodbath.

The boys work together, taking out the bigger houses since the girl wanted to go it alone. They’ll clear one, making sure to make it known, but stick inside of the house for a second to wait to see if they can hear movement. When they’re absolutely sure there’s none, they move on.

This plan doesn’t work initially, they get passed at least three houses before they hear a noise. Had the boy just waited a couple of seconds more, they wouldn’t have been able to hear his footsteps as he creeped down the loud stairs, giving away his position.

With the Ten boy dead, the District Ten mentors are going home. Which you’re sure is a bummer for them, knowing that they’ve been doing pretty good lately when it comes to victors. They’ve had two in the past ten years, which is a good improvement from the gap that they had before.

In the next house that the boys come across is a girl, the gamemakers give no indication on district. And you’re not sure that it matters because she’s dead within the first minute they search the house. The hiding spot wasn’t that bad, but when there’s two searching, more spots are bound to be discovered. 

District Three girl gets greyed out on the board. There’s three people still hiding inside of the village, the boys from Nine, Three and Six. All in different places, and the only one that seems to be the furthest is Six, and you can take a pretty big guess as to why.

His district is power. They’re the main producer for it for everyone, and it wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for the gigantic dam that they have. It’s hydroelectricity, the water passes through the dam, turns some gears and it fuels the Capitol and a portion of the other districts. It makes sense that he would be the one that would try and get away as far as possible. 

It means that he knows something that the rest of them don’t. However, you have that much figured out. The dam is the danger here, but he must know the mechanics behind it. Why it’s going to fall apart, what event can set it off, how far it’s going to reach when it does. He’s so far away from the dam at this point, miles away from the cornucopia, and he still keeps moving.

It just means that the blast radius of the dam is going to wipe out a large berth of things. Trees, potentially the cornucopia, definitely the houses in the village. And that’s to name a few. There’s no telling what can be uprooted with the force of the water. You’re just curious how anyone will survive it.

Another tribute gets found, it’s the boy from Nine. The careers have regrouped now, all in different forms of bloody. You grit your teeth and try not to gag, remembering the smell of blood, and the feeling of the thickness on your skin. It’s not a pretty feeling, and you can’t shake it, not even all these years later.

The careers agree to stop looking for tributes and start for water instead. Which is a good sign for the two tributes left in the village--potentially three. But as for everyone else in the trees, it’s not as good. You’re sure that Annie and Marsh are far away enough from the stream of water that’s coming out of the dam at the moment, but there’s no way to tell.

Actually, it probably doesn’t even matter that they’re far away from the stream of water, considering that no one knows that it actually exists, except for the mentors. Unless someone went and opened their mouth and gave it away, which you wouldn’t be surprised about. You’re all a bunch of cheats and liars, at this point. There’s no use denying it.

The careers don’t even start to head towards the dam anyway, so that eliminates most of the worry. With the interest in them gone, it’s back to the remaining tributes inside of the arena. It’s been nearly three hours and already half of the competition is gone. When you said that it wouldn’t last more than a week and a half, you weren’t thinking that it would be because of this. You thought it would be the dam.

Everyone loves a good plot twist though, right? Right?

You get up from the couch to stretch your legs, figuring that the worst of the first day is over. It’s one in the afternoon, Annie and Marsh can clearly take care of themselves when it comes to fighting off other tributes. Their main worry at the moment is probably finding water and setting up camp somewhere.

If they were to just head right, towards the stream, they should come upon that shack uphill. It’s risky, staying that close to the dam but they don’t really have much of a choice unless they want to stay the night out in the open. At least with a shack they have shelter and they’re hidden. If someone comes upon it, they’ll have the upper hand.

“Alright, I think I might go back to the Four apartment to eat lunch. Don’t know if I’ll be down here later.” you say, looking at Wade and Gloss.

“And narrowly miss your two best friends?” Gloss asks.

“I have days to see them, I’m not really that worried. Plus, last night was enough to fuel me for the next decade. You’re lucky if I don’t start pretending I don’t know your four altogether.”

“Haha.” Gloss rolls his eyes, but gets to his feet.

He gives you a one-armed hug, you pat his back slightly. Wade isn’t much for physical contact in the first place, so he holds out his hand as a supplement. You slap it, looking at Gloss, “Sorry about your tribute.”

“He was a moron anyway.”

“I’ll see you later then--” you go to turn towards the door but find that you’re face to face with a Capitol woman, dressed in bright blue with accents of black. You have to take a step back so that you’re not breathing the same air as her, giving her a polite smile, “Hello.”

“Are you Annie’s mentor?” she asks.

Three hours in, and Annie’s already going to get a sponsor. It’s probably healing cream for the cuts she endured when fighting the One boy. You have to admit, if she’s completely healed, she’ll be able to move quicker and won’t have to worry about using medical stuff. The blades on the knives and swords are so sharp, especially when they haven’t been used before. Pick your toughest material and it could move through it like cloth.

Your eyes find Annie and Marsh on screen to see that they’re taking a break, going through the stuff in their backpack. Now would be a good time to do it before they get ahead of themselves. You give the Capitol woman a bigger smile, “Yes, are you interested in sponsoring?”

The whole process only takes a few minutes. You and her discuss what exactly she’s looking for, and what the ranges of the healing cream will have. It’s so extremely dirt cheap because it’s the beginning of the games, only three hours in. The longer the games go on, the more prices will be amped up. What could buy you an entire feast on the first day will only get you a loaf of bread later on, maybe not even that.

The woman lets you know that the main reason for deciding to go through with this is because of Annie’s manners on stage. That she can’t believe that Annie is only eighteen and acts like she’s been on this earth for much longer. You have to agree, Annie has her moments where she’s wiser than the rest of you. But it’s mainly because she’s been forced to grow up quicker, thanks to the boarding school.

When it comes to the note, you type in, “Right with you.”

It’s not the best when it comes to hinting at where to go, but you send it and watch it get approved. The first sponsor gift of the Seventieth Hunger Games, and it’s going to your tributes. One last time, you thank the woman and assure her that Annie is very grateful for her compassion.

Now you can’t leave just yet, and have to wait as it slowly comes down to them. You stand by Gloss and Wade, listening to the chiming of the gift. When it comes into earshot of Annie and Marsh, they immediately perk up, searching the trees. 

“Found it!” Annie calls, pointing it out while getting to her feet. The cuts don’t even seem to phase her all that much, so it’s partially a waste of money but at least they’ll be able to use it later on if the need arises.

Annie catches the silver gift in her hands, rejoining Marsh as she pops it open. You didn’t really give them any instructions on how to apply it, they’ll have common sense not to use the whole tube, you think. They read over the words to themselves in their head first, before Annie is smiling fondly.

“That’s very sweet.” Annie says, “(Y/n)’s encouraging us as always.”

No, that’s not it. You’re not worried about the misinterpretation, especially not after the knowing look they give each other. Annie folds the paper and places it in her breast pocket, not even reading it out loud for everyone to know. It’s their own choice, and it’s probably a good one at any rate.

Annie has Marsh apply the cream while she tries not to look like she’s in too much pain. You know that it’s not easy having people dig their fingers in your wounds. Fuck, you might have initially blacked out after that bear mutt attack, but you were still half awake. Every single time they went a little too deep or were a little too harsh, you were jolted awake. You’re fairly surprised that you still remember it. It was almost like a fever dream.

Annie and Marsh take a couple more minutes relaxing, but the audio cuts on their part to give the District Seven tributes a chance at the spotlight. It doesn’t mean that you’re not able to see your tributes, though. You’re able to watch them motion and flesh out a plan. It’s good to see that they get along so well, makes for a strong alliance.

Annie motions about heading towards the wall, Marsh’s face begins to harden up. Annie changes to pointing, jabs her thumb in the direction of the cornucopia. Marsh says something, you think you make out the word ‘water’. Annie then holds her arm out to the right, taps the pocket on her chest, and then it seems like they have a plan. They pack up, and head towards the right.

And with that, you go to leave because it’s finally your window. But Cashmere and Enobaria come through the door, bearing a basket and big smiles, “Good afternoon! How’s our tributes doing?”

“Is that food?” you ask, Cashmere hands over the basket, and when you look inside, there’s cold cut sandwiches and flavored bubble water. It really looks like you won’t be leaving here anytime soon.

You all pick your regular back table, that’s perfectly out of earshot of other mentors and Capitol citizens, but you’re still able to see the line odds and the screen with the tributes. They lay out the food, you nibble on your sandwich while Cashmere and Enobaria ask questions and Gloss and Wade give up information.

“Bloodbath knocked out eight tributes.” Wade says, playing with the bubbly water cap, “Which includes Eleven and Twelve.”

“Figures, they’re not very good fighters anyway.” Enobaria says, “Didn’t Eleven have the seventeen year-old girl?”

“She only scored a six so it’s not like she was anything special.” Cashmere has her eyes on Gloss, slowly squinting at him, “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Gloss makes a face and shrugs. There goes whatever cover he was trying to grasp at.

Cashmere stares at him for a second longer before turning around and looking at the line odds. It doesn’t take long to find, the boy is the first tribute on the left row. She doesn’t even have to look for it. The name is greyed out, of course, Cashmere turns back to Gloss.

“When did Colt die?” she asks.

“The bloodbath.” Gloss says, leaning his head against his hand now, “He went after Annie--(Y/n)’s tribute. He didn’t even stand a chance.”

Cashmere raises her eyebrows, and then looks at you, “Seriously? What happened?”

Conversation launches, you, Gloss and Wade do your best to tell them all the details. Starting from the bloodbath, who’s where in the arena, to the village. They’re not all that surprised to hear that their career pack got an additional four kills, the careers go hunting after the bloodbath to try and get as many as possible. But it’s a shock to know that half the tributes are gone.

After bloodbaths, careers get one--maybe two--kills. And it normally doesn’t happen immediately after the bloodbath, either. It’s sometime during the night because it’s easiest to spot the fires. Hardly ever is there a second slaughter immediately after the first. Because of this, you don’t think that they’re going to have a feast at the cornucopia this year. There won’t be enough tributes to make it worth it.

Annie and Marsh come across water, fill the jugs and put iodine to clean the water. They wander up a little further and find the shack. Just like that, they can call it a day since they’ve already got enough food to last them two days. All they have to do now is set up a plan to keep the food coming.

The careers come across basically a small clear pond. The last time you drank from a pond, you came down with Typhoid fever, really fun times. The Capitol was a bitch for making that dirty water clear to drink from, but the normally ideal water a fucking trick. You are so lucky that the Capitol had the medicine to make sure that the effects weren’t long-term. Otherwise, who knows what you’d be living with right now?

The betting room starts to clear out in the evening because it’s supper time for all of them. You stick around with the pack for a little while longer, remarking that you’re all surprised that Finnick didn’t show up at all, even with all the time he had. Once you’re sure that your tributes can survive the night, you’re bidding goodbyes.

It feels good to walk back to the apartment and to stretch your legs after going between sitting and standing. Sitting at the table already is Elysia, she looks happy to see you, “Welcome back.”

“Feels good to be back up here.” you laugh, tying your hair up, “Have you seen Finnick at all? He didn’t come by at all.”

Elysia shakes her head, “I went to get him for dinner and the rooms empty.”

“Huh,” you let out, sitting at the table.

It's odd, being here with only Elysia again. Makes your stomach churn slightly, actually. No tributes, no Finnick, only you in the betting room… Why do you have a feeling that this isn’t a coincidence?

You said that you’d give Finnick today. The first day isn’t the busiest, it’s the days that follow, when the heat starts to get turned up and the stakes rise. Then the tributes start getting hurt, requiring more to sustain whatever lifestyle they’ve built for themselves. It’s going to be impossible to go to the cornucopia to refill on goods when the entire thing is in a field. What are you going to do? Hide in the grass?

You and Elysia eat dinner, quietly chatting about what you think’s going to happen. In the end, it’s late and you should call it a night. But when you reach your room, hand on the doorknob, something tells you that you shouldn’t go to bed just yet. It’s a gut reaction, you look over towards Finnick’s room. It’s an invasion of privacy.

But there have been plenty of times before where Finnick has come into your space without permission, right? You sigh, kick off your shoes by your door, and then go into Finnick’s room. It’s dark and quiet and smells like perfumed fabric softener. You don’t bother with turning on the lights, Elysia already said that he wasn’t in here. 

You make yourself at home, tossing a pillow onto the hammock and using it to support your head and not get your hair stuck in the rope. You stare and watch and wait for a while, playing today over in your head. You don’t think that there’s a single thing you would have done differently. Annie and Marsh were smart to run towards the dam, and Annie knocked out a whole career while she was at it.

However, they also proved that they were a couple to keep an eye on. The girl from One is smart enough to see it like that, to want to go ahead and go after them. On one hand, it’s a good thing that the boys didn’t listen to her. Your tributes are still alive, in a house for the night. But on the other hand, four other tributes died because of it.

But then again, it was only a matter of time. You saw all of their deaths coming, and so did every other mentor in that room. None of you could have known that on the other side of the dam would be a village. What use is it to warn your tributes if they’re just going to be fucked either way?

Oh hey, there’s going to be a cracked dam inside of the arena this year. If you can, I’d probably steer clear of it. The most it seems to provide is a steady stream of water, so at least you have that! Also, I wouldn’t worry much because the dam looked pretty damn small when I got to see it.

What use would that have done? It would have been a fucking culture shock, to think that you’d be ahead of the games for once. Like, “Okay, don’t head toward the dam, use it as a last resort. Worse comes to worse and you can maybe outrun the water.” until you’re face to face with a concrete wall that’s literally a mile taller than you, and the only place to go is a field out in the open and a village that provides the only shelter.

If there was any time to facepalm, it would be now. Hell, even your warning at agility training is going to do fucking nothing. You originally thought that it would come in hand to hop from rock to hill or tree root or something, but that’s going to be hard to do in the grassy field. Yes, let’s hop from grass blade to grass blade.

So fucking stupid, all of this.

You sit there fuming for a little while longer, shaking your head, rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth. You wonder if any of the other mentors have seens something like this before. Wait, that’s stupid. Of course there’s been an arena before this that has been the biggest April fool’s prank of all. Haymitch Abernathy had to live in a hell disguised as a paradise. Yes, you think that might be the worst arena you’ve ever seen. And he had forty-seven other tributes to worry about on top of the killer squirrels.

You snort, but it’s really not all that funny.

The room door opens, you squint just before the lights are flickered on. Finnick stands in the doorway, wearing a white button down shirt and nice black slacks. A part of you wonders where he’s been all night to need to dress as nicely as this. His… job… for the lack of a better word, doesn’t start until after dinner, usually.

And supposedly, he’s been gone all day!

Finnick doesn’t seem to see you at first. You grin to yourself like a child, “Boo.”

He jumps, a startled sound escaping him, it sounds like a yelp. He turns with wide eyes, staring at you. You laugh to yourself, “What the fuck? How long have you been here for?” he presses his hand against his chest, “Gonna give me fucking war flashbacks.”

“Been here since dinner, which was…” you trail off, looking at the time, “About four hours ago, apparently.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like watch the arena?” Finnick slips off his shoes and socks, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I did that all day, I actually waited here to tell you that it’s your turn.” 

His eyes land on you, “To what?”

“Watch the tributes, sit in the betting room until I relieve you.”

His face twists, “Nice choice of words.” 

You roll your eyes, “You owe me this much. I’ll give you a quick rundown about what happened--”

“I already know.”

You throw the pillow at him, “Perfect! You can put your shirt back on and go downstairs!”

He looks at you, “(Y/n), I’m tired.”

“I’ve been up since eight this morning.” you give him a smile, “It’s now nearly midnight. I think you can sit in the betting room for a couple of hours.”

“A couple is two.” Finnick says, “You’re asking me to sit in there for ten.”

“Which is almost half of what I did today! It’s only fair!”

He stares at you. He doesn’t look tired on the outside. In fact, it looks like he just woke up a couple of hours ago. If he were tired, he’d be more sluggish, and you’d know because you’ve been around him for years now. And the last week has shown you what it’s like to actually interact with him when he’s had tough days and nights.

Today is neither of them for him.

“Okay.” Finnick agrees.

“Okay?” you raise your eyebrows, “Sweet. I’ll be up at seven and down there at eight to switch places, then.”

Finnick starts buttoning his shirt back, you give him a cheeky smile, getting off the hammock and heading towards the door. You’re about to leave, but then you stop and turn towards him.

“If I get down there tomorrow morning and you’re nowhere to be seen, you’re not going to like what happens.” there’s no smile, the words are dead cold. Finnick stares at you, fingers frozen in place, “I can promise you that. Goodnight.”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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[myherowritings]

the jealous type

— overview: class 1-a has a game night in the common room. bakugou sees you and todoroki getting too close for comfort and can’t stop himself from getting jealous.

— pairing: bakugou katsuki x female!reader

— word count: 3.4k

— warnings: lots of swearing, jealous bakugou (yes that is a warning bc damn boy), sexual tension

— author’s note: this request was so fun to write i was literally on a roller coaster of emotions the whole time. like i couldn’t stop laughing at some parts, then other parts i straight up cried while writing, then i got happy and giggly again...agh. this was something else ;p enjoy!

“Does Todoroki have to be good at everything he does?” Uraraka whispered from beside you, staring in awe as he easily reached five stars on the game Just Dance.

You giggled in agreement. “And does he have to look so good while doing it?”

Ashido joined in on your little circle, nodding as she admired the way his toned muscles flexed while dancing to “Womanizer.” “The rest of the boys really have nothing on him.”

As the three of you--and most likely every other girl in Class 1-A (plus Midoriya)--admired Shouto’s subtle yet graceful style of dancing, Bakugou fumed from behind the sofa. Why was everyone so obsessed with that bastard?

Katsuki scoffed and, startled, you glanced back.

He stood behind the couch you, Mina, and Ochako were on, the ever-present scowl on his face deeper than normal.

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” he muttered, staring past you to glare at Todoroki who was currently beating Kaminari in “Hot n Cold.” “He’s not even that good.”

“He’s beaten everyone he’s played against so far,” you said in a singsong voice. “Seems quite good to me.”

“Tch.”

Mina took a quick break from ogling at Shouto to roll her eyes at Katsuki. “Seems like someone is jealous.”

“Fuck off, Raccoon Eyes,” Bakugou scoffed. “What would I have to be jealous of?”

Just then, the song ended, the screen flashing a crown over Player 1, Shouto.

“Damn!” swore Kaminari, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Eijirou gave him a pat on the shoulder as he sat down.

“Todoroki-chan!” you exclaimed, jumping up from your seat and giving him a high five-turned-hug for his fifth win in a row. “You were amazing, as always.”

Shouto gave you a small smile in return, patting your back gently as you handed him his water bottle.

“Thanks, Y/L/N.”

“Anytime, Icy Hot,” you said with a wink.

Meanwhile, Mina was smirking at a red-faced Katsuki.

His hands were gripping the cushion of the couch, sparks sounding off his forearms. He watched Todoroki whisper something in your ear, causing you to laugh, and he felt his stomach churn uncontrollably.

“Not jealous, huh?” she remarked.

His left eye twitched. He was not jealous of that half-and-half bastard.

But your hand was still on his arm--why the fuck was your hand still on his arm?--and you had a slight flush to your face. What could Icy Hot have possibly said that made you blush? Bakugou would rather read only Machiavelli for the rest of his life than attempt to make conversation with that boring square.

“Look, he won again!” you said, wielding a triumphant expression as you walked back to your seat. “Still think Todoroki’s not good?”

“Anyone can win in that stupid game,” Katsuki muttered under his breath.

“Why don’t you prove it then?” Ashido piped in, a devilish grin on her face. “If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you play against Todoroki and see who wins?”

He scoffed. “And why would I want to prove anything to you?”

“Aw, come on, Bakugou,” you said with a pout. “It’ll be fun!”

Of all the things you had to say…, he thought crossly.

“I don’t think so.”

Tilting your head to the side, a challenging look mingled with your features. “Oh. I see.”

“See what?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

“You’re scared.”

“What the hell would I be scared of?” said Bakugou, voice louder this time.

“You’re scared you’re going to lose to Todoroki, so you’d rather not play!” you proclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing. He felt as if a vein in his forehead was about to pop. “Your scared that maybe King Explosion isn’t the best after all.”

He heard Kaminari and Kirishima ‘ooh’ from the sofa next to you, but Katsuki was too outraged by your comment to spare them a second glance.

“You think I would lose to that bastard?!” he practically scoffed.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

With his ears growing hot in anger, he grabbed the Player 2 Wii Remote from your outstretched hand and did his best to ignore the smirk on your face.

“Fucking bring it, Half-and-Half,” he growled at Todoroki, who was simply standing in front of the television screen with a blank look on his face. “I’ll show all you dumbasses…”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima cheered, hopping up from his seat on the couch to give Bakugou a pep talk, Kaminari and Sero following behind with equally animated faces. “You can do this in your sleep, Bakubro.”

His forehead throbbed at the insufferable nickname, but before he could say anything Mina dove towards the Wii console with a DVD in hand.

“Can I pick the song?” she cried, changing out the game version to Just Dance 4. “I have the perfect dance in mind!”

And that’s how, ten minutes and tons of arguing later, Katsuki found himself with Shouto’s arms around his waist as they danced to “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” in front of his dumb crush and all their dumb classmates.

How he got suckered into being the female dancer, he wasn’t sure.

Mina said he should be the girl because he was shorter-- To which he replied by promising to dye her hair puke green while she was asleep. But the moment you looked up at him with those stupid, pleading eyes and dimpled smile on your face as you told him it’d be so much better with him as the girl, he found himself giving in.

He was a complete fucking fool when it came to you. And the day you ever figured it out would be the end of him.

“Don’t kiss my fucking hand,” Bakugou hissed, ripping it out from Shouto’s grasp as the song went into full action.

Todoroki barely spared him a glance as he posed for the signature move and continued swinging his arms. “It’s part of the dance.”

“Do you think the dumb game can actually tell if you touch me or not?” he retorted, sending him a flying kiss with the remote control.

“Maybe that mentality is why you’re losing.”

Katsuki gaped.

Shouto smiled.

With an annoyed grunt, he began to take the game much more seriously. He’d show that half-and-half bastard…

“Damn, get it, Bakugou!” cheered Kaminari as he scored his third perfect ‘YEAH!’ on the golden poses.

“I hate to say this, but I can’t tell if Bakugou or Todoroki looks hotter doing this dance,” Mina loudly whispered to you and Ochako.

When heard you agree with a fit of giggles, he felt a smug grin spread across his face. In fact, the sound of your laughter was so captivating, he didn’t even mind Todoroki’s clammy hands on his waist as he twirled around.

As the song drew closer to the end, they both easily surpassed the 5 Stars mark, with his score bar merely a centimeter higher than Shouto’s. But he was winning that son of a bitch and that was all that mattered.

“Grand finale time!” Kirishima yelled as Bakugou and Todoroki clasped hands for the final time, tiptoeing away from each other.

“What?” he asked.

“The infamous lift!” you said with a clap of your hands. “Just like in Dirty Dancing. You have to finish the dance off with the lift!”

Katsuki grunted in annoyance but turned to face Todoroki in time with the figures on screen. Shouto raised a brow in amusement and Bakugou wanted to wipe that all-knowing look off his face.

“Do it for Y/L/N, right?”

“Fuck you.”

With a deep scowl, he ran towards the bastard and leapt off the ground with his hands on Todoroki’s shoulders.

“You drop me, you die,” he warned in a menacing tone.

Todoroki let out an indignant puff of air as he caught him. Adjusting to the weight in his hands, Shouto’s arms briefly trembled before he easily steadied them.

“Hmm. For someone so short, you’re actually quite heavy.”

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open. “Who the fuck are you calling short?!”

“You.”

“I’M 172 CENTIMETERS TALL.”

“Yaoyorozu is taller than you.”

“By one fucking centimeter!”

“You’re still short.”

“Why, you little--!”

This time, Bakugou didn’t hold back. He swiftly swung his leg, aiming for Todoroki’s stomach, but right as he was about to make contact, Todoroki jumped out of the way, his grip loosening as Bakugou came tumbling down.

With a strangled yell, Katsuki felt his stomach drop at the 176 centimeter fall (bastard wasn’t even that much taller than him) as he landed with an ungraceful thud.

His eye twitched as he glared up at Shouto’s eerily calm face. “You fucking dropped me!”

“You tried to kick me.”

“That doesn’t mean you can drop me!”

Bakugou was so caught up in arguing, he hardly noticed his well-deserved win. That was, until Kaminari and Sero came up to him and Todoroki wandered off to talk to you.

They were raving about how cool his dancing looked, but all he could focus on was the smile on your face as you gave Half-and-Half a high five. When you wiped a bead of sweat off his temple with a teasing crinkle of your nose, Katsuki just couldn’t stand it anymore.

He played this damn game--put on this stupid fucking show--all for you. And while he knew you didn’t owe him anything, it was frustrating to see how easily you blew it off the minute you got a simple glance from Mr. Perfect.

Clenching his jaw, Bakugou stormed out of the common room without a word, shoving his way past any of his classmates that tried to see what was wrong as he headed up the stairs to his room.

Fuck them all, he thought. He was angry at Icy Hot for getting close to you in a way he never could. He was angry at Raccoon Eyes for planting the stupid idea of jealousy in his head. And he was angry at you for making him feel this type of way.

A churning stomach, a heated face, clenched fists-- Those are all things he loved to feel during a fight. But not here. Not now. Not because of you.

Irritated, he pulled out the key card from his pocket. But just as he was about to unlock the door, he heard someone panting as they ran down the hall.

“Wait!” you cried through deep breaths, trying to catch up to him. “Bakugou!” You paused when you finally reached him, leaning against the wall to steady yourself. “Why’d you leave like that?”

His hand was still on the handle but he turned his head to look your way.

“What do you mean?” he managed to get out steadily.

“I mean, I thought we were all having a fun time, but then you ran off with a pissed expression on your face!” You frowned, taking a step closer to him. “Is something bothering you?”

Yeah. How close you and that half-and-half bastard were.

He scoffed. “No, of course not.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I’m surprised you even noticed with how inseparable you and your boyfriend were,” Bakugou grumbled before he could stop himself.

Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass.

“My...boyfriend?”

He folded his arms across his chest, avoiding your gaze.

Staring up at him, you blinked. “Are you talking about Todoroki?”

“Tch.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you said with amusement, rolling your eyes. “I don’t even like him in like that.”

“Funny. Doesn’t seem that way.”

You grew defensive. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“That’s a dumb question.”

“And that was a dumb answer.”

“Hmph.”

As he continued to dodge the conversation, you grew more and more annoyed.

You sighed. “Could you just answer the question?”

“What question?”

“Why did you leave?!” you asked with an exasperated shout.

“Why do you care?!” Katsuki bit back.

You glared at him and he matched your intensity head on. “Because, for some pathetic reason, I care about you, asshole!”

“It didn’t seem that way when you kept cozying up to Todoroki!”

“Why the fuck do you keep mentioning Todoroki?!” you cried, frustrated.

“Because he’s the only damned person you seemed to notice all fucking night, baka!” Red in the face, he couldn’t contain his emotions any longer. “Todoroki this, Todoroki that-- ‘Wow, Shouto, you were so amazing!’” he mocked in a harsh tone. “If you’re so fucking obsessed with him, why aren’t you there right now?”

“I don’t know!” Your voice came out in a strangled shout and when Bakugou looked at you he noticed the glassy sheen in your eyes and the hurt expression in your face.

Your cheeks were puffed slightly and your lower lip jutted out in a tremble so slight he only noticed because of the close attention he was paying. He instinctively reached forward to wipe a stray tear away, but you pulled back, stung.

Katsuki felt like shit.

Of all the things that could’ve happened, making you cry was the last thing he wanted to do.

With a sniffle, you folded your arms across your chest and lifted your chin up. “You’re right, I could be downstairs with Todoroki and the rest of our friends, dancing and having a fun time, but instead I’m in a hallway with a jerk who obviously doesn’t want me here!”

He sighed, his voice coming out rougher than usual. “I never said I didn’t want you here.”

“No, but you’re acting like it.”

Katsuki bristled. “Fine, just go and run to Todoroki then! No one’s forcing you to stay!”

“Good, because I don’t want to stay!”

“Good!”

You both glared at each other, heat unwavering as you refused to break eye contact.

“You know what? You’re such an asshole, Bakugou!” you cried in frustration, fingers digging into your palms as you balled your fists. You shook your head, angry tears threatening to fall down your face. “To think I actually like someone like you.”

He blinked at your words, taken aback. “What?”

You glowered. “Are you really going to make repeat that?”

“No, baka, I just--” Katsuki blew a quick breath of air through his teeth. “Don’t you like Icy Hot?”

“Yeah, as a friend!”

“Then why do you two always look so goddamn cozy anytime you’re in the same room? It’s like he’s the only person you see when you’re around him,” he grumbled, uncertain of his admission. “It’s not to make me jealous, is it?”

“Oh, get over yourself, big head!” You eyes narrowed as you scowled, but at least you were no longer sad. Bakugou would much rather have you annoyed with him for the rest of his days than make you cry again. “Todoroki and I are good friends and I’m just comfortable enough around him to act like that. It’s not because I like him-- And it’s certainly not because I was trying to make you jealous!”

At your menacing frown, Bakugou held his hands up.

“Okay, fine,” he snapped defensively. “My mistake, then. It was my own idiocy that made me jealous.”

“Exactly!” you retorted. Then, more quietly, “Wait-- What?”

“What now?!”

You bit your lower lip, suddenly averting your gaze. “You were jealous?”

He snorted, trying not to let his embarrassment show. “Isn’t that what I just fucking said?”

“Well, yes… But why were you jealous, exactly?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you, baka?” Katsuki asked disbelievingly. “As if it couldn’t be anymore obvious.”

Ashido knew. Uraraka knew. Even Todoroki, the most oblivious asshole in all of Japan, somehow figured it out. How the fuck haven’t you?

“Your obvious and my obvious seem to be different,” you said in an accusing tone, taking a step closer with each word as you prodded your finger into his chest.

“Obviously.”

“What?” you cried in disbelief. Even Bakugou didn’t know what he meant by that. Your body was just so fucking close to his he couldn’t even think straight anymore. Damn you. “This conversation is going nowhere! Just answer the stupid question!”

“Yes, I was jealous! Okay?” he said brusquely, moving away until he shoulder hit the corner of his doorway. “I was jealous of you and that damn half-and-half bastard. Whenever he’s around, it’s like he’s all you see. He looks at you, smiles at you, touches you in a way that I never can.”

You shifted even closer to him, almost closing the distance between the two of you, and Katsuki saw the nervous tremble in your step despite the confident look on your face.

“And why would you be jealous of that?” you asked slowly, almost tantalizing.

His felt his face heat up, flustered. Were you really going to make him say it?

You raised a brow and he growled, “Because I like you!”

“And I already told you I like you, too--” You broke off with a disdainful shake of your head. “God knows why.”

Although you told him those exact words earlier, his stomach still churned with the same intensity. “Then why aren’t you like that with me?”

And there it was. The million dollar question. The source of all his frustration.

Why was it so easy for you to be with Todoroki--to laugh with him and flirt with him--when you could barely look Bakugou in the eye unless it was to glare?

“Because you’re you,” you said, shuffling your weight between your feet. “You make me nervous when you’re around. It’s easy to talk to Todoroki because I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me. But with you-- You make my stomach feel weird and my heart acts funny and it’s like I suddenly forget how to speak.” You paused like you were out of breath. “I...I don’t know how to make it stop.”

As you talked, he found it hard to swallow. His breathing came out in sharp huffs and he found his warm hand resting on your hip, drawing you nearer.

There was a lapse of silence after your admission, and you wanted to withdraw in embarrassment, staring down at the floor and wriggling out of his grasp. But before you could move, Bakugou lifted your chin with a gentle finger until you faced him.

You looked into his eyes for what felt like forever until he spoke up.

“That makes two of us,” he said with a bark of laughter. Bakugou shut his eyes, almost in pain by what he was about to say next. “I’m a complete idiot when you’re around. It’s like I can’t help but make a fool of myself.”

“You did look pretty foolish earlier tonight,” you said teasingly, a shy smile on your face despite the way you ran your hand up his torso and rest your palm on his chest.

“Tch. Is that so?” He hoped you couldn’t feel how heart his beating through the thin material of his shirt. “You looked pretty impressed during the dance.”

“Yeah, at Shouto.”

He knew you were joking, but he couldn’t help but stiffen, almost drawing his hands away from you until you laughed.

“Sorry, was that too soon?” you said through giggles, placing Bakugou’s hands back on your hips as you leaned towards him. His back was pressed against the wall as you stood between his legs.

Katsuki huffed at your response, but his annoyance was easily forgotten when you peered up at him with wide eyes and a pouty lower lip he wanted to take between his own.

“You never have to worry about Todoroki, or Kirishima, or Shinsou-- Or anyone else. Because it’s you I like. And although you make my head hurt and annoy me to no end, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, either,” he admitted roughly. “I’m glad it’s you.”

“Good.” Your features lit up with a grin and Bakugou felt like he was attacked by the Sun itself.

He felt himself smiling back foolishly until his cheeks hurt. “Good.”

As you tilted your head upwards, Katsuki’s leaned down and met you halfway. Your lips were soft with a taste of cherry lingering on the surface and your body was inviting as you brushed your hips against his. It was slow and it was deep, passionate yet sensual.

And it was the best damn kiss he had ever had.

- - - - -

author’s note: *SCREAMS FOR 5 HOURS STRAIGHT* the end! tt.tt *goes from crack fic to agonizing jealousy so fast i got whiplash*

i WHEEZED while write the shouto and katsuki dance duet someone PLEASE draw them doing the iconic dirty dancing lift with some of class 1-a + reader reacting like “what the fuck but also damn...respect” PLEASE I’M ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU JSAHFK

[the-canary]

Bathwater - B.B.

Summary: Bucky Barnes has had a museum of lovers for as long as you have known him. It’s that and your own cynicism that makes you doubt that this man could actually be your soulmate. (Modern/Soulmate AU!Reader/Bucky Barnes) 

A/N: happy new year! this is my first story of 2020, thanks to binging on no doubt over the holidays. this is for @bucky-smiles​ secret santa for @sagittree​. special thanks to @softhairbarnes​ for helping with the ending ;A; 

Reasoning as to why I named this “Bathwater”. 

There’s a pop in the back of your head, but you just think its your ears over the loud music and yelling of frat boys. Nat laughs at the momentary discomfort on your face, before shaking her head. You bit back your remark, because you had promised to come with her if she had helped you with your paper. 

One favor for another. That’s when all your thoughts stops at the sound of an all-too familiar voice. 

“Chug another one, Barnes!” 

The commotion causes you to look up, as you see a boy drinking like he wasn’t going to live to the next day. People start chanting, as you just shake your head – once again unsure of what you were doing here in the first place. 

You hear Natasha laugh next to you. The young man manages to complete the whole thing as he yells at the crowd after he is done.

Tall, dark-haired, and blue-eyed – the definition of fuck boy in your book. 

Natasha, in the years to come, would laugh and say that is the definition of your type. 

———–

The pop comes back at times. It shatters your eardrums and leaves you with a headache for the rest of the day, though the times it does are few and far between. It could mean several things, but the most obvious is the one that you choose to ignore – because you of all people don’t believe in those aged stories of maybe, potentially finding the one. 

On the other hand, you end up meeting Natasha’s latest conquest after another visit to the college's medical office. He’s standing in the middle of your really small and shitty-looking kitchen without a shirt, messy brown hair and and easy smile on his lips. 

Pop! 

You feel the headache come back at the sight of Barnes (you don’t know his first name), as you rub your shoulders back. You can’t tell that his smile drops at the sight of you. However, you don’t say anything as you simply groan, rub the back of your head, and walk past him without a word exchanged between the two of you.

You take a Benadryl and pass out for the rest of the day, not really caring if Barnes or Natasha are in the apartment.

———–

You think about it once, maybe even twice after you see the dark-haired man moving about in your apartment. He isn’t with Natasha anymore, but that causal relationship had turned into an even stronger friendship. Though to you, it just meant that you spent less time in your apartment when he was there and more time in the library. 

The subtle musk of books and lack of sleep makes you question the thought over and over again. You had heard the idea over the years – movies and fairy-tales always spoke of the one. 

Your mother and father had thought of the concept dearly once. 

But then, as you glance at the rows and rows of books ahead of you, you remember reading it in a statistics book once. 

Less than 5% of the world’s population ever find their soulmate. 

It echoes in your head for a good while, making you sorrowful like a child that had lost its favorite toy. However, you are quick to sigh it out before going back to studying. 

You steel yourself and develop of routine of sorts – pop, ignore Barnes, take a pill, and leave the room. 

It becomes your go-to for the rest of college. 

———–

Bucky Barnes, as you end up learning his name during graduation, isn’t someone that you consider a friend after college is over and done with. He sits at the edge of meetings with Natasha, of saying hello to him and his pretty date, and being nice enough to introduce yourself – to be an actual being a decent person to the man. 

But, then that’s when you hear it: Pop!

It’s that insufferable static and the pain it brings that causes you to pause and turn heel. It’s that horrible shift of emotions and other shit in the center of your core that makes you stop, as you end up spending the rest of the night with either Sam or Steve. 

It’s like that for years, until one night…as the clock strikes twelve on New Year’s when Sam, in that danky little bar on the South-side that you all like to hangout in during the weekends, can’t help but comment. 

“Hey,” Sam remarks while pointing his drink subtly to the other side of the bar,"I think you caught someone’s attention tonight.” 

You feel the pop!pop! before even knowing who is looking in your direction. You frown and take a look to see blue eyes glancing your way before they quickly slip over the room, like it might seem he was intending to do that the entire time. 

Both you and Sam know better though.

You take a sip of your drink and go back to looking at the man at your side. Sam raises his eyebrows at you in the most exaggerated way, as you just end up shaking your head.

None of your friends really understood why you didn’t like Bucky, but they had been thinking that they could change it with the new decade just around the corner.

———–

The ball drops and you’re standing on the side, watching people yelling and kissing each other as another year comes around. It almost makes you seem like Lt. Dan from Forrest Gump the way you are nursing your drink in the back while watching 2020 flash on the screen. 

However, you don’t feel any of Gary Sinise’s bitterness, just the warmth of your drink and the sweetness that comes with your friends being happy as Natasha and Clint trade kisses and Steve and Sam start singing. 

All the happiness, food, and drink makes you so full that you almost don’t feel it, but it’s subtly there – that pop in the back of your mind. However, your current state of drunkenness causes your guard to fall just a bit because you don’t notice among the swaying bodies that dark-haired man is coming you way until he is right next to you. 

Dark button-up shirt, jeans, and a gray hoodie against the red-brick backdrop of the bar. You realize that this is the first time you had really looked at Bucky since that frat party, since seeing him shirtless back in college. 

The baby fat had disappeared and his hair was longer than before. He lets out a sigh, but you know that he isn’t that easily defeated. Though he is rose-cheeked, either from the cold or all the drinking you really didn’t know, but it made his blue eyes stand out more as he gave you a lopsided smile. 

You wonder how drunk he really is, as he leans on to the brink. 

“Hi,” he states breathlessly. His eyes meet yours and you swear the middle of your head starts to ache. You get goosebumps running up and down your spine. You frown and rub your forehead in irritation. His face soon mirrors yours, but instead he looks more melancholic than anything. 

“‘M’sorry, doll,” he manages to state. You don’t acknowledge him, “I’m sorry it hurts all the time.”

You don’t say anything, just take another sip of your drink and stare at the space above his head as the pain and fullness of everything makes you uncomfortably numb. You won’t accept that Bucky Barnes might feel something in the same way you do – that he hurts just like you do.

Because at the end of the night, he smiles and leaves with someone else that isn’t you and that’s all you need to keep moving forward. 

———–

It isn’t like you don’t go on dates and try to make it work with someone else. There is a date peppered here and there, an almost proposal and that lost weekend with that you had with a former boss, after you had left the place where they worked. It’s not like you don’t try. 

It always ends with the small detail that you still struggle with after all these years. The one that Natasha makes painfully obvious after a failed double date with one of your friends from work. 

“They didn’t have it,” she pauses and looks at you with a light smile. You look up from your lunch.

“Didn’t have what?” you ask more cautiously than before. Natasha looks at you liked she knew something you didn’t, which could be accurate. You had never told anyone of the pain the back of your head. You weren’t sure if you could say the same for Barnes. 

“Killer blue eyes,” Natasha laughs at her own joke. You just keep staring at her before going back to eating.

It wasn’t like you could say anything could counter her point. In a way she was telling the truth. 

———– 

The limited interaction that you had with Bucky gave you enough reason to think that whatever you felt, he did too it some way. It hurt, but you weren’t going to run into his arms in some heartfelt declaration of your everlasting love. It wasn’t your style and from what you have heard from Sam, he was in a very disastrous relationship with a former beau. 

Winter turns to spring, as work leaves no time to do anything. It’s in late March when you finally have a weekend for yourself, as you set yourself up in a coffee shop near work – a nice drink and something soothing to make you forget the tiresome work week. 

The first hour is fine, until you feel it – that all too familiar irritation that comes before the pop. 

On pure instinct, you look up to see where the hell Barnes could be and just what exact escape plan you can come up with to leave the coffee shop. However, you were already too late in that aspect as well–-

“Hi,” there’s that same breathless voice again, as you look up to see familiar blue eyes.  You swallow as the drumming gets stronger and you just want to leave, but Bucky Barnes is looking at you like he wants to say something. 

“Hi,” you manage to mumble out, as he gives you a relieved smile. You move about in your seat for a moment, as he moves a hand over his hair. You just notice he had gotten a haircut since the New Year's. 

“I just hadn’t seen you in awhile. And you were here, so I thought–” he stops halfway as you grimace, “Maybe I should go.” 

You aren’t sure why, but for the first time since you’ve had this aliment, your heart squeezes and aches at the thought of him leaving. Your pain momentarily blinds you to everything else, as your mouth opens and leaves the careful rationality that you have placed in front of you. 

“No, it’s fine,” you breathe out at the sight of his cautious stare, “It’ll pass.” 

Barnes lets out a breathe that he has been holding before asking if he can sit down and though the rest of the day is a hazy blur, you think it might’ve ended all right if your “soulmate” finally took notice of you. 

———– 

You remember reading once: Those who consider themselves soulmates often experience shortness of breath, throbbing headaches, back and chest pain, and even nausea to the point of fainting. However, one partner will always have experience in one and not the others. Researchers have referred to as the head vs. heart syndrome. 

You knew which one you suffered from. 

“Hi,” the back of your head throbs for a good second before the voice gulps in a gasp of air, “Were you waiting long?” 

“No, I just ordered and sat down,” you state without sparing him a single glance from the book that you were currently reading. You weren’t sure how exactly you had gotten in this strange situation of meeting with Bucky Barnes every other weekend at this coffee shop, but when you were there he usually was as well. 

However, that didn’t mean you were going to give him your full attention. 

“Good,” he sighs out before giving you a brief smile, “I’ll go get something too.” 

He takes another gulp of air before leaving your table. You can’t help but wonder for a brief moment, forgetting the family drama of your book, if Bucky suffered from chest pains and shortness of breath when he was around you. 

You wondered if he was the heart and you were the head in this situation, as laughable as it was. 

———– 

“So, what do you do for a living?” 

“Bucky, I am sure you know what I do for a living.” 

“No, I hardly know anything about you.”

———–

It’s an easy thing to step into and an even easier thing to step out of. For a couple of hours every other weekend, you hang out with your potential, so called soulmate. You read and he is on the computer with warm drinks on the side. It’s somewhere between compassion and stubbornness, but it is to keep you safe above all else. 

But then you see Bucky walking around and chatting with other women on the way to the coffee shop. Each of them laugh and smile at him, like he’s the sun and you feel a silent fury bubble within you.    

Less than 5% of the world’s population ever find their soulmate. 

You take a deep breathe and end walking the other direction numerous times, as the weeks without seeing him pile on. However, that doesn’t matter because you have lived without your so-called soulmate for this long, and you can do so for even longer.

———–

Should a soulmate ever consider rejecting their “other half…”

“You know, Bucky has been asking about you.” 

“Please, don’t talk about certain people when I have a splitting headache, Sammy.” 

“Just sayin’”

“Just saying, my ass.” 

..their symptoms will begin to worsen.

———– 

However, there is only so much pussy-footing around that you can do, between work and the headaches, before you have to see Bucky Barnes again. The problem is that instead of all your close friends being close to the bar, like they had promised, it was just Bucky by himself. A single light on him in the dark room as he sipped his beer. 

For a brief moment, you wonder if you could actually experience shortness of breath due to the surprise that he was actually alone since Steve was late and Natasha and Clint were in the corner talking to themselves. You weren’t sure where Sam was. He sat there and none dares approach him, his usual smile was replaced by a sulk. 

It almost made you want to check what was going on with him, but the bubbly-like feeling bursting in the back of your head makes you hesitant as well. Bucky Barnes’s mere existence put you on the defensive, but the lingering emptiness and the idea that you might be missing him makes you want to walk over to his side. 

You stand there until the feeling settles itself in your stomach like a rock. You're stuck like glue to the entrance, until you hear it –

“James, is that you, honeybunny?” 

The bile starts to run upwards and you end up running towards the nearest bathroom. You heave everything you have and end up leaving the bar in cold sweats and pounding headache. If you end up not seeing Bucky or your friends for the rest of the week, well it doesn’t matter above your health. 

The rejection of said “soulmate” leads the occurrence of more and even worse symptoms. Sometimes for both recipients. 

———– 

“Hey Buck, you okay in there?” 

“Yeah, must be some stomach bug I caught at work is all.”

———–

“Hey, have you seen her recently?” 

“Nah,” Sam shakes his head at Steve’s question, “Says she’s been sick for awhile now.”

Bucky frowns, but doesn’t say anything as he feels a pain in his chest. They have been more frequent that longer he had gone without seeing her, but what could he do when his soulmate was avoiding him. He didn’t know where to start making up for everything that he might’ve done.

———– 

The final time that you see Bucky from afar is when he is standing at the end of your apartment building’s hallway. He’s standing there, like you had at the bar, with his hands in his pockets and a glare that you had never seen being thrown in your direction. To be honest, Bucky never really looked at you though. You were unsure even now if he was really standing there since you were all messed up with the symptoms you had been feeling for days now.  

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he glowers at you, as you try to ignore the feverish glee that runs up and down your spine at him finally talking to you, “Now you’ve gotta us both like this, doll.” 

You let out a cough, but you can’t answer him as blue eyes watch you like a hawk. You want to say so many things, deny the fact and the crazy notion that this is something that the both of you have, but looking at Bucky – really looking at Bucky with his pale face and and greasy hair…and you can tell. 

You can tell that this separation makes him feel just as bad as you are feeling right now, but he’ll never understand that added weight that drags your heart down. 

“You don’t want me, Bucky,” you manages to cough out as your heart squeezes over the next words that leave your mouth, “Soulmates aren’t real.” 

Bucky looks at you like you hit him in the gut. You lean into the front door of your apartment, as your insides tear each other apart over such a declaration, as you can’t help but wonder why denial hurts so much. 

“How can you say that?” 

Bucky must be rushing over to you, but you don’t see it through the blurriness that is covering your eyes now. Everything is fading, as your stomach tightens. 

“Cause it’s always been the truth,” you murmur deliriously, “Been like that since I’ve known you.” 

You feel a fire burning your cold cheeks, as something grabs them, but you are too far gone into the darkness to know what it is. 

———– 

“Nat, what do you mean Bucky is taking care of her?”

“Exactly as I said,” Natasha answers back. Steve looks at her confused as to how the two people in their friends’ circle that interacted the least where now in the same hospital healing over their colds, “Like he should’ve already been doing."

Steve is even more confused than before, as Natasha just smiles to herself – like she knows a secret that nobody else does.

———–

However, there is an oddity that is seen in less than 1% of those who consider themselves to be “soulmates”. 

“Mr. Barnes, if you would go back to your room. You need to recover as well.”

You don’t know how long it had been between you blacking out in the hallway and being in the hospital, but the nurse’s voice is clear with each passing day, as she states the same thing over and over again – reprimanding Bucky over being in your room when he should be in his. Even when she doesn’t, the familiar pop pop feeling bubbles in the back of you head, though softer than before. 

Though this time, you don’t meet with annoyance, but rather Bucky’s soft voice going on about whatever is going through his head that time of the day – from his work at the counseling office (where he helps young women and their children) to what your friends have been up to, but it always ends the same way. 

“Doll, I hope you get better soon,” his voice cracks in the middle as your chest collapses on itself, “You just gotta.” 

You wonder if any other woman had heard him with such longing and desperation in his voice. If he waited on them day and night, like he did with you from time to time or until the nurse caught him again. 

You wonder and dream of how it would be like to be with Bucky, to stop denying yourself such a basic need for yourself. You breathe out soundly for the first time in a very long time because regardless of who Bucky had been once and who he had been with, you were starting to think that you would like to get to know Bucky as he was now. 

———– 

It’s a month after your hospitalization and two weeks after Bucky’s release that he feels it. The familiar breathless feeling that he has always gotten around you takes the air from his lungs, as he feels a hand running through his hair. He realizes that he must have fallen asleep on top of the hospital bed after coming back from lunch.

His heart putters and stops at the sound of a groggy voice: “Good morning, Bucky.”

Bucky Barnes turns his head in your direction to see that you are looking directly at him for once. A soft smile curls your lips as the sun shines through the widow behind you. He wants to cry and reach out to you, but instead he watches as you rub the back of your head for a moment.

“Does it still hurt?” his voice stills the joy he had been feeling, stopping him from crossing the bridge and hugging you with all his might. He watches with bated breath as you shake your head.

“Just a pinch,” you laugh. Bucky swears his heart stops in that moment, “But, I’ll get used to it.”

It takes him a moment or two to process what you actual mean. Blue eyes widen as he lets out a watery laugh at the irony of it all, of finally finding the place where he is supposed to be after a museum gallery of lovers, though he knows he’ll have to fight tooth and nail for you to truly take him seriously.

He’s willing to do that and so much more, so that you can truly understand that you are soulmates – that you are going to be the one he’s always going to choose at the end of the day, every day for the rest of his life.

“That’s good to hear, doll.”

The initial rejection makes the “soulmates” bond even stronger than most.

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader) [Ch.5]

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations(some non-con), the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: MGG gave us so much material to work with yesterday *ahem* great, respectful visuals. I feel the need to post two chapters in 1 day to keep these good times-a-going.

Word Count: 3,538

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.

You weren't excited to go home. You had spent the last few days with Spencer, and you wanted to give the man a breather.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay over at my place? There's this new documentary out about mantis shrimps that I've heard good reviews on. I was thinking of watching it tonight." Spencer asked, following you to your car.

"No I should go home and deal with-um." You squinted your eyes to think.

"Chris," Spencer smirked.

"Yeah, Chris. I also want to try out that piano."

"You should, you're good at it."

"I haven't played since I was in my high school's band." You stood next to the door, clicking the button to unlock it.

"I guess I'll have to ask Morgan then." Spencer squinted in the sun, watching Derek leave the building.

"Something tells me he doesn't find mantis shrimps as fascinating as you and I." You commented.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Spencer asked.

"Bright and early."

"And you remember the addresses I gave you?"

You held up your phone. "Wrote them down."

"Good. Drive safe."

You reached out and pulled him into a quick hug.

"I will. Bye Spence."

************************************************************************ You stood at your entryway, hanging up your coat while you took everything in again. You still couldn't believe you owned all of this and had a rewritten history to go along with it.

There was still an entire second floor that you hadn't seen.

You trailed up the banister to the second floor. The first door you now knew was the bedroom, that left 3 more doors. You tried the next door over and opened it to reveal a bathroom. Of course, the bathroom was luxurious with a bathtub that reminded you of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The next door over was a guest room, although it looked like it didn't have much use and was being used as an art and yoga studio. The next room was your favorite. Rows and columns of shelves full of books lined the walls your heart beat raced as you walked, running your fingertips along the spines of the books. A desk and computer sat at the end of the room, which you assumed was used when you worked from home.

There was a cozy nook with a sofa and chairs against another wall and all you wanted to do was curl up and read a book. This was definitely your favorite room of the house.

You chose a random book and sat down to read, getting cosy with a throw blanket and pillow. You must have lost track of time because, when you turned around to look out the window, the sun had gone down.

You left the room, wanting to explore more, but you walked into something.

"Y/N. You're, home. How was work?"

"Chris, hey. Work was good." You replied, inching around him.

"You didn't tell me you were leaving on a case."

"I didn't. I'm sorry." You faked sincerity, trying your best to avoid the stranger.

"You haven't seemed like yourself lately is everything alright?"

"Yeah, great. Everything is great."

"Were you actually on a case, or were you at Spencer's again?" He frowned.

"I was on a case Chris. I just forgot to tell you."

"You've been forgetting a lot lately."

Well there is a good reason for that. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Prove it." His eyes darkened. "Prove you're sorry."

"Um how?" You wrung your hands together.

"You haven't been around in a while, maybe you can spend the night in bed with me?" Um no, not going to happen. Stranger danger. Abort. Was this relationship entirely sexual?

Suddenly learning about mantis shrimps with Spencer was sounding a lot more enticing.

"I-I'm a little hungry. I think I'll go-" He held your arm, stopping you. Holding your hand up to kiss it. You cringed remembering how Spencer looked doing that to the unsub.

He started to kiss up your arm.

"Chris, I'm tired." You could smell a hint of alcohol on his breath. Your mind worked to think of ways to calm him down without angering him.

He sighed.

"Then let me take care of you."

Again, you cringed, in fact, you wanted to vomit. Spencer had said the same thing to you the night you got here. After he saved you from drowning. Except his words carried a different meaning and were more welcomed.

You snatched your hand out of his grasp.

"I can take care of myself thank you very much."

"Y/N, why are you being such a brat?"

What is this guy's problem?

"I'm tired from work and I haven't had anything to eat. I don't want to sleep with you, Chris." You tried to keep your voice civil.

"Are you hiding something from me?" He asked, eyes narrowing.

"No."

"You are. Is it him? Did he mark you up after you two fucked at his house?"

"How dare you?!" You yelled, absolutely appalled.

"Maybe if I left marks he could see what doesn't belong to him." Chris trailed his eyes down your neck.

"Who the hell do you think you are? I don't belong to anyone, especially you!"

"I'm your boyfriend! Don't blame me for being jealous after the way you've been acting lately."

"Look, calm down and we can talk about this." You didn't know this man, you didn't know how angry he could get.

"How could you go for someone like him? Is it the intelligence you're into? He's fucking weird. He looks like a skinny drowned rat."

"Don't talk about him like that." He could say what he wanted about you, but you wouldn't let him talk shit about Spencer, he didn't deserve that.

"You're defending him now! So there is something going on between you two. I knew it! I always knew it!"

"There is nothing." You said too calmly.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed the back of your neck, roughly pulling you towards him into a kiss. You pushed against his chest, backing away.

"You're hiding something and I want to know what, so strip."

"No."

He grabbed the back of your neck again.

"Then I'll do it for you, yeah?" He roughly grabbed your shirt, snapping the buttons off and pulling it off of you. You covered yourself with your arms.

"You are out of your mind!" You cried. How could you ever treat this guy as a boyfriend? He was  everything you hated.

"Well he didn't mark you here, did he mark your pretty thighs hmm? Did he spank you? Are you into that with him? I bet it's a professor and student thing." Chris barked out.

How he had gone from 0 to 100 so quickly, you didn't know.

"Get the fuck out of my house." You seethed.

"I live here!"

"Not anymore!"

With that, he stormed out, his drunken fatigue sparing you a longer fight. You lost the last of your resilience and fell, shaking, to your knees. You never wanted to see that horrible man again; he was a jealous prick. To think you gave him the benefit of a doubt when you first met; he didn't deserve anything from you.

You couldn't bring yourself to stand. You knew you weren't having a panic attack, but your anxiety was bad enough to have you shaking and crying on the floor. You reached out and grabbed your phone. Knowing it was the only thing you could do, you called Spencer. He picked up on the 4th ring. You could hardly hear them, he was somewhere loud.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Hey it's me." Although it was hard to hear him, his voice was already enough to begin calming your shaking hands.

"Hey Y/N what's up?"

"Heeeeeeeyyyy beautiful, you should have joined us tonight!" You heard Morgan's booming voice as he yelled into the phone.

"Oh, are you two out together?"

"Yeah Morgan offered to take me home, but then we stopped at this bar. There's live music!" Spencer sounded excited.

"You guys sound drunk already." You laughed, growing distracted from your current predicament despite your laying on the floor.

"Yeah, is there something you needed?" Spencer asked.

I need you.

You suppose he was enjoying himself tonight, you didn't want to take him away from that.

"I guess I just need to hear your voice." I need you here.

"You hear my voice all the time! Maybe too much! I'm always talking!" You heard Morgan loudly agreeing and women giggling and saying Spencer's name; trying to get his attention.

"Oh are you with JJ and Penelope?" Spencer took a moment to reply, saying something that you couldn't make out to the other people.

"No, why?" Because I need you here.

"It sounds like you're hanging out with a lot of people."

"We are! Morgan gave me this suuuuper strong drink and I started talking about the fall of the Roman Empire, it came up in a case once, and anyways, these two ladies came up to us and they love us! They want to hear all about Rome!"

"Spencer come dance with me please?" A female asked in the background.

"I-I don't dance," he replied to her.

"Then take me home." She whined, knocking into the phone with a thud.

"Um okay."

He returned to talking to you.

"Y/N I should go. Do you want to talk again later when everything isn't so loud?" Please don't leave.

"No I'm fine, go have fun Spence." He wasn't yours. Despite how close you two had already become, despite whatever fake history you shared, despite falling for the character on your tv screen.

"Okay." He hung up.

You dropped your phone on the floor you were currently sprawled out on. Feeling jealous, of course, for someone you had no right to be jealous for. To lash out at Spencer for having fun would make you no better than Chris.

When had you become so dependent on Spencer? It hadn't even been a week since your arrival here.

And yet you knew that he was the only person that made you feel like you weren't alone in this world, the only one who knew your secret. Is this what living in this new reality was going to be like? Lonely?

It's not like you had anyone in your previous life to turn to, what made this one so different, so heart-wrenching? Well, this universe had Spencer. Real Spencer. When Spencer wasn't around you, the absence felt abiding.

You eventually managed to pick yourself up, leaving your ripped shirt on the floor. You pulled yourself into the bathroom, avoiding looking at your reflection in the mirror. You drew yourself a hot bath and put a vanilla scented oil  you happened to keep by the soaps, inside. You breathed in the scent as you soaked in the tub. It wasn't the same. It was too sweet. It wasn't Spencer. Everything always circled back to Spencer.

You weren't typically the kind of woman to measure your self worth by your relationship to a man. You and Spencer were friends, and although it seemed at times that it could be more, maybe it just wasn't meant to be. You weren't from this world, you were forced into it. You had a hell of a lot of baggage; you couldn't help but feel like a piece of shit today though. Chris was the reason you felt violated, but you weren't going to sit here and cry over him all night. You were going to throw his clothes out into the hallway and hope that was all he had here. No, the tears that fell down your cheeks now were for yourself. After the last few confusing days you've had, you deserved to have a cry alone in a bathtub that didn't smell enough like your one comfort in this world.

If you were a stronger, more forward woman, you would go to Spencer's house and wait for him. Maybe he slept with the girl from the phone call, maybe he didn't. Either way you would confess to him everything that made him your favorite character before and everything that made him your favorite person now. Like the last unsub, you realized you had quickly fallen for Spencer Reid, but you weren't brave enough, or in any condition, to act on those feelings. You sat there and felt sorry for yourself until the water ran cold. Draining it, you made your way to your bedroom, but you hated the way it smelled like Chris. You lit some scented candles that were lying around and took all the sheets off, throwing them in the wash that took you a while to find. You grabbed the throw blanket from the library couch and decided that was all you need tonight. You brushed your teeth and got prepared for bed as your phone rang.

Sighing and already thinking of excuse to tell Hotch why you were not up for a case tonight, you picked it up.

"Hello?"

"I know who you are."

"What? Who is this?"

"I know who you are."

"Is this a joke?"

"I know who you are."

"I know who you are." The voice grew louder.

"I know who you are." Louder.

"I know who you are!" Louder.

The voice hung up, feeling your skin crawl. Suddenly you felt terribly alone in this big apartment, alone and scared.

You locked your bedroom door and blew out all you candles. Still, not feeling safe enough, you retreated to your closet, grabbing the throw blanket and a pillow along the way. You locked the closet doors and threw the items on your couch, still clutching your phone.

You sat on the couch in almost complete darkness, only the moonlight from a small window lit the room. You watched the rain outside fall, feeling tears slide down your cheeks. You could call Spencer; you should call him, but would he even pick up? You decided against it and scrolled through your contacts settling on another number. Someone you hopefully wouldn't be disturbing so late at night because you knew he was a night owl.

"Hello?"

"Rossi?" You whimpered through tears.

"Y/N? What's wrong?"

"I-I'm scared. I got a strange phone call and-and I'm hiding in my closet. I don't know what else to do." Well you certainly didn't sound like a believable crime fighter now.

"Okay, stay calm. Do you have your firearm on you?"

"N-no I left it downstairs."

"Do you have any reason to believe that someone could get into your house tonight?"

"It's unlikely, but I'd feel safer with someone here."

"Listen, I can come check on you, but I live 60 minutes away. Have you tried calling Reid? He lives closest to you."

"He was drinking with Morgan earlier, I-I doubt he could manage to catch a bus here."

"Okay. Try him first, then call me back if he can't make it. I'll come over if he isn't available, but don't panic, okay? We're trained to not panic in high stress situations like this for a reason." I'm not trained for anything, but making coffee and acting!

"Okay thank you. I'll check with him."

Your hands shook as you called Spencer's contact. It nearly reached his voicemail.

"Hello?" Spencer sounded groggy like he had just woken up.

"Spencer are you in any shape to make it over to my place?" Your voice softened, as it seemed to do whenever you spoke to him.

"Um. One second." You heard him groan and sheets rustling, he was probably pulling himself up in bed.

"Yeah, I can come over." Spencer yawned.

"You might want to bring your gun."

"Why? Is something wrong?" He suddenly became more alert.

"I'm probably overreacting. Someone called me and repeated this creepy message a-and it was unsettling and I don't feel safe here so I locked myself in my bedroom closet," you tried to coherently explain.

You heard him struggling to put on clothes.

"Okay uh- stay on the phone with me, okay?" It sounded like he was tripping over items.

"Okay." You whispered.

"Is Chris with you at least?"

You swallowed before answering.

"No."

"And you left your gun downstairs as per usual?"

"Yes." This was a normal mistake you made?

"Dammit. Okay I-I'm coming I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Okay. Thank you Spencer."

"No need to thank me alright?" He sounded out of breath.

"Ok."

"Just stay in your closet and stay quiet. If you hear anything, let me know."

"Ok."

Your phone beeped a few times and you lifted it to look at the screen. Of course, the battery was dead.

"Fuck," you whispered. Dropping the cell in favor of clutching the pillow to your chest.

As you sat there you counted down the minutes until Spencer said he'd be there in your head. You knew he would be there at the exact time he said.

Every once in a while you heard a creaking, but the place was so big it could have just been normal house noises.

You counted down and when you hit 0, exactly when you hit 0, you heard nothing.

Spencer should be here. He's always precise.

You waited and waited for what felt like ages until a knock at your bedroom door made you yelp.

"Y/N? Are you in there? Are you okay?!" Spencer yelled through he door.

You ran to open it.

"Spencer." Spencer lowered his gun, pocketing it, clutching your discarded, ripped shirt in his other hand.

You threw your arms around him and buried your face in the crook of his neck. He tightly hugged you closer to him. You hugged him until you stopped crying.

"Are you okay?" He asked, softly.

"Emotionally? No. Physically? Yes." You pulled back.

"I didn't find anyone. But I found this and your phone cut off and I-I thought something bad had happened to you."

"I'm okay."

"How did this happen to your shirt?"

"Chris."

Spencer's eyes widened.

"Oh. Um I didn't know. Sorry."

You nearly facepalmed.

"No. It wasn't like that. I didn't want to do it." You explained, numbly. Spencer blinked at you, expression unreadable, holding your face gently.

"Tell me everything."

You nodded pulling him inside your room and, still feeling nervous, you locked the door.

You sat on your bed and gestured for him to do the same.

"What happened to your sheets?"

"I didn't like how they smelled like him, they're being washed."

"Oh."

You were silent.

"Tell me what happened since you left the BAU. You called me earlier and you sounded fine, what happened?" He asked in the steady tone of his interviewing voice. You explained coming home and being stopped later in the day by Chris.

"I tried to tell him that I was tired and hungry. It felt like a stranger was touching me and I hated it." You sniffled. Spencer reached out and gave your hand a comforting squeeze, for a germaphobe he sure turned to physical touch as a means of comfort a lot.

"He didn't listen and he accused me of sleeping with you because we spend time together outside of work." You looked at your joined hands. "He told me to strip to show him marks."

"Marks?"

"The kind you get from being rough when intimate Spence." You tried to explain without making the air awkward.

"Oh."

"I didn't follow his demands, so he grabbed my neck and he ripped my shirt off. He said some vile things about you and I kicked him out. That's how that shirt got there." You finished that explanation.

There was a silent beat, Spencer's face going through the motions until he settled on anger and guilt.

"Y/N I-I am so sorry."

"Don't be. That guy being a dick wasn't your fault."

"You called me afterwards. You said you needed to hear my voice. I was too drunk to notice you weren't okay. If you had told me, I would've come straight over a-and brought Morgan with me. He could probably beat Chris up. Prove the dominant masculine power structure he craves is toxic."

"He's gone now, so I wouldn't worry about him any more." You shrugged.

"After the burst of anger he displayed, I'd advise you to be cautious. He has a key to get inside, what's to stop him from attacking you again?"

"I don't know." You felt too exhausted to think about the Chris problem.

"Is he who you were hiding from? The phone caller?"

"No I was just about to go to bed when I got a phone call."

"What did they say?"

"'I know who you are.'" You took a shaky breath. "I tried to ask the caller questions, but he just repeated that, grew angrier and angrier, and hung up."

"What did he sound like? Was his voice familiar to you?"

"I didn't recognize the voice, but it was pitched down and nasally. Sort of like the killer in Scream?"

"Give me your phone."

"It needs to charge, it's dead."

"Alright, I'll give the number to Garcia to track, tomorrow. I'm sure she's not awake at this hour." Spencer rubbed at his tired eyes.

"Okay, thank you." You got up to charge your phone in the nearby wall plug. "Oh and Spence?" "Yeah?" He turned around. "Thank you for coming by so late. I hope I didn't take you away from uh you know- some- potential action tonight." You smiled, awkwardly laughing. You didn't like it, but you wanted him to not feel guilty for having fun for one night.

"Don't ever hesitate to call me, especially when you're in a situation like this." Spencer narrowed his eyes. "Action?" He frowned.

"I don't know. I heard some girls with you and Morgan, they seemed into you. I thought that's where you were tonight. That's why I hesitated to call again." You shrugged. Spencer scrunched his nose. "I-I didn't."

You raised your eyebrow, looking Spencer in the eyes, then rolled your eyes, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Your jealousy turned into admiration.

"Do you want to watch that documentary about mantis shrimps? I can't sleep after all of this."

Spencer's face lit up as he nodded and followed you downstairs.

Next Chapter

[themoonisalwayschanging]

Sex in the car!!

WE ARE BACK!

We did this one with a friend of us and we never posted it, here it is now 🥰🥰

Send your requests.

_________________________

Ashley closed the checkbook after putting her cash inside and placing it back on the table. we sat across from each other at a posh chinese restaurant. ashley called me earlier today and asked me if i wanted to go another date with her and i accepted even though i really wanted to stay in tonight. this would count as our 5th date together and i think we seem to get along pretty well. she's amusing, incredibly nice, and so so beautiful. her eyes are usually hazel when im with her but she swears they change from brown to hazel all the time. she's dyed her hair black and slicked it into a small ponytail at the back of her head. small little freckles are decorated on her cheeks and i swear her smile could brighten up a room. but one thing i've noticed is there's always this sexual tension between the two of us when we're together.

even though she's really cute most of the time, she's really fucking hot. tonight she has on a pair of black leather high-waisted skinny jeans that i've been thinking about how difficult it would be to slide down her thighs. her black, red, and white vintage t-shirt is tucked into her jeans that were so tight, you could see the outline of her thong. and i tried my best to not make it obvious that i could tell in the first place.

"thank you for inviting me to dinner." i tell her, picking up my glass of champagne and bringing it up to my lips. "there's no fun in staying home on a saturday night." she smirks at me, tapping her black painted nails against the white table cloth. she kept looking for our waitress who seemed to be hiding from us. i haven't seen her walk by our table since she gave us our check for our food. "that's not entirely true." i respond with a smile, crossing my legs over each other under the table and folding my arms against my chest. she raises an eyebrow "how so?" she simply asks, rubbing the back of her ankle. the black heels she put on tonight didn't see too comfortable.

"if you stay home, you can sleep all you want." i shrug my shoulders. "sleep isn't everything, y/n." she giggles. "you can sleep any day of the week, i don't care. it's only fair if you leave your house to do something social on saturdays." ashley tells me, picking up her wine glass and bringing it up to her lips. she leans her head back and finishes her glass all at once. she lets out a small giggle when she catches me looking at her with wide eyes.

"you're a very social gal ash. i'm quite the opposite." i tell her, she nods her head and shrugs her shoulders. "you're right. my bad."

our waiter finally walks by and ashley grabs her attention, giving her the check and telling her she doesn't need the money back. ashley stood up from the table while i grabbed my jacket and wrapped it around my body. i did the same as her and we made our way to the front entrance of the restaurant. "i really like your dress." she tells me in my ear, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. her heels click against the concrete as we walk to her car in the second row of the parking lot. "i really like your skinny jeans." i whisper in her ear, she smirks at me and bites her red lip.

she brings me to the passenger side of her car and opens the door for me. i duck and sit inside her car while she closes the door and i watch her walk to the other side. she opens her car door and gets inside with me, reaching for her seatbelt behind her. she looked at me for a few seconds before grabbing her car keys and putting it in the ignition. she looked at me as if she didn't really want to take me home and drop me off just yet. she sighs and starts the car up, turning up her radio and flipping through channels while she pulls out of the parking lot.

we didn't really talk to each other on the way to my apartment, just the music from the radio filled the space. she'd look over at me occasionally and then back onto the road. i could tell a lot was on her mind right now just by looking at her. we were both wanting the same thing but didn't want to get ahead of ourselves. it was either someone makes the first move, or nothing happens tonight and she drops me off and we part our ways. we stop at a red light, just about 5 minutes away from my apartment.

"ashley." i finally say, she turns her head to me, she lets out a hum. "i don't really wanna go home right now." i confess to her, a smile on her lips now. she knows what's coming. "then what do you want to do then?" the light turns green and she turns her head back to the road, accelerating forward. "pull over." i tell her and her eyes land on the empty parking lot to the left of the road. she quickly turns her signal lights on and tries to switch lanes so she can pull over. she successfully makes it over to the parking lot with dim street lights. she parks the car and we unbuckle our seat belts. she leans over to place her lips against mine. it's soft and slow like she was testing the waters and making sure this was what i wanted too. i lean into the kiss as well, placing my hand on her cheek while she puts her hand on my thigh.

i'm not really the type of person to have sex with someone so soon after meeting them, but for some reason this situation was different. and i wouldn't think the first time i'd hook up with her would be the back of her car, but i felt like if we didn't do it soon, i would explode. quickly the kiss became rough and i undid her ponytail and let her hair fall down her shoulders so i could tug at it. her hand gripped my inner thigh, causing a soft moan to escape my lips. heavy breaths left our mouths as we tried to get as close as possible to each other as we could. "the back seat. now." she mumbles against my lips before pulling away from me and climbing into her backseat between the driver and passenger seat. i followed her into the back seat and she pulls me into her lap, my knees digging into her leather seats on either of her hips.

she immediately attaches our lips back together, the most euphoric feeling i've ever felt in so long. her hands placed on my hips while my hands are busy taking off her shirt and throwing it in the front seat. she wore a black lacey bralette over her breasts which i couldn't help but caress in my hands. she lets out a soft moan before leaning her head back against the seat. my lips go to her neck, kissing the skin softly before sucking against it and hearing her gasp beneath me. her skin tends to bruise easily, her fair skin turning red within a few seconds. i take my lips off of her body and wrap my fingertips around the bottom of her bralette. "you're so fucking hot, ash." i tell her breathlessly against her lips before bringing the article of clothing above her head. her hair falls back down her shoulders so gracefully and a large smirk is across her face due to my comment.

"i love it when you say my name like that." she tells me, grabbing my black dress and bringing it above my head as well. i watch her bite her lip while keeping her eyes at my breasts, running her hands up the sides of my body. "say it again." she moans, her lips at my collarbone and traveling down to my breasts. her lips soft and warm. feels like electricity against my skin, so addicting. i moan her name again as she wanted me to. a moan vibrates against my skin from her mouth. her mouth found it's way to my nipples, caressing the sensitive flesh with her tongue. an evident wet spot in my underwear begins to form and i start to grind my hips against her. moans continuously left my mouth while i gripped onto her arms, my back arched and my head hung back.

she puts her hand between my thighs, moving her thumb in circles against my clit. her name left my lips again, her kisses becoming needy and rough against my skin. her lips kiss their way up back to my neck, her hand parting my underwear and pressing her thumb against my clit, my thighs shaking. "i'm gonna make you come over and over again." she whispers against my ear. a shiver went down my spine just by the way she spoke to me, and how slick the words rolled off her tongue. "please?" i begged, tugging at her hair and earning a soft moan from her. she runs her middle finger up and down against my slit, spreading the moisture along the tip of her finger.

"you're so wet for me." she hums against my neck. i nod my head, resting it on her left shoulder and watching the cars on the busy main road so unaware of whats happening in the car across from them. a gasp leaves my lips when she slowly enters her middle finger into me, my toes curled at the feeling as i pulled my body close as i could to her. she moves her finger slowly, my heart beat racing so fast. her chest so close to mine, i could feel her heartbeat as well. she moves her face away from my neck and to my face, moving her lips against mine again. my whimpers vibrate onto her lips, my brows furrowed in pleasure. everything is slowed down, slow kisses, slow hands. but surely, she gets tired of it and quickens the pace of her finger, rubbing against my g-spot to such a fast pace i can't keep up with just yet. i dig my head into the crook of her neck and press my moans against the skin. carving crescents into her shoulder blade with my nails. she winces, moving her unoccupied hand onto my ass and bringing my hips closer to her.

"fuck." i moan into her neck, feeling the excitement in the pit of my stomach build. "fuck ash, i'm gonna come." i tell her loudly, her lips kiss under my chin, watching my face contort in pleasure. "come for me baby." she coos, her finger going as fast as she could make it go. she heard me let out a few whimpers before moaning her name as i came against her. clenching around her finger and arching my back. it ran down her hand and drenched my underwear, my thighs trembling in her hands. "i bet you taste so sweet, hm?" she smirks up at me, adding her index finger while they still continued their quick pace even though i'm already so sensitive from the last orgasm.

the emotions were much more intense this time, resting my forehead against hers. our lips so close but so far away from each other. the only thing heard in the car were my heavy breaths and the sound of ashley's hand working overtime to get me to come all over again. i noticed the windows in the backseat were becoming foggy due to the heavy breathing from both of us. "coming again, sweetheart?" i can see her smirking in the dim streetlight behind us. she feels me clenching around her fingers, my body about to reach the peak. "yes!" i basically scream, my arms wrapped tightly around her neck. her lips crash into mine, my eyes screwed shut. she finally gives me a break, removing her hand from in between my thighs and placing them in her mouth.

"so sweet." she nods her head, kissing my afterward and letting me get a taste of myself. "lay down." i mumble against her lips, she turns herself and lays her back against the leather with her hands rested at my thighs. i scoot myself down and take the time to slip my drenched underwear off my hips and into the front seat. i laid between her legs, leaving kisses right above her high-waisted pants. unbuttoning them and pulling the zipper down. "i don't know if i'm gonna be able to get this off of you." i giggle, taking her heels off first and throwing them on the floor of the car. she giggles as well and watches me attempt to pull them down her thighs. she tries to help me, could only get them down to her ankles. she told me to just leave them there. i left a kiss on the white writing she had on her black thong. a sigh left her mouth and she stroked my dark brown locks with her soft fingers. i used my tongue to trace the tattoos she had on her thighs, she watched me do so with lust in her eyes.

she propped her right leg up beside me, giving me access to leave kisses and bruises on her inner thighs. hums and incoherent whispers came out of her mouth that pleased me more than it should. i gave her other thigh a few kisses before pushing her thong to the side because rolling them down to her ankles would be too much work. i left kisses from her mound and down to her slit, she lifted her hips upward, trying to gain more friction. i held onto her thighs, trying to control her from moving too much once i pressed my lips against her clit and moved my tongue against it. she gasped and tugged at my hair, her back arching off the seat and moans began to slip out of her mouth without any control.

"oh my god." she moans, her hips grinding against my mouth now. my tongue circles her clit repeatedly, sucking on it occasionally. my eyes never left her face, the way her face contorts and her mouth parts slightly to let the soft sounds leave her mouth. the sweat on her forehead was beginning to build and the heat in this car was starting to bother me a little. "you're way too good at this. i'm coming soon." she announces, placing her leg on my shoulder. i watch her eyes roll into the back of her head before they fall close and she moans my name. eventually, the pleasure of my mouth between her thighs got too overwhelming for her and her hand gripped the leather seats. she gasped and tugged at my hair again, bringing me closer to her while she let go of her release. she moaned loudly and rode her orgasm out against my tongue. her heart rate slowly decreasing after coming down from her high. she laid her head back against the leather seats in exhaustion.

i used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth before we both sat up and she straightens her underwear. she pulled on her skinny jeans and zipped them up while i put my dress over my head. she leaned in the front seat for her shirt and i climbed back in the passenger seat, sighing and still trying to catch my breath.

a few seconds later, she comes climbing back in the driver's seat, her food hitting the horn and it goes off. i giggle and watch her blush, looking in her rearview mirror to make sure she looks decent. "you're really good at that." she smiles over at me, still trying to catch her breath. i nod my head, i couldn't stop the wide smile on my lips. "you aren't so bad yourself." i tell her, she winks at me and turns her car back on. driving out of the parking lot and back onto the main road to my apartment complex.

[spaceskam]

Draft #4 and #41? Are they too different to combine? Maybe a 5+1 fic.... 5 times Michael explores his queerness and 1 time he and Alex go all out to a queer club (in ABQ or LV or LA)? 😉😃😘

freedom has no price

here it be! I’m super proud of this (with the exception of the last part but we can’t all be winners) and a special thanks to @draculaspetbee for helping me out with the 4th part! hope you enjoy! 

ao3

.1.

Wind combed through Alex’s hair, but it only slightly made his bottle of nail polish wobble in its place in the bed of Michael’s truck.  The two had been laying there for hours in the presence of each other. Regardless of how hot New Mexico summers could get, the desert was the best place for them to be.  No one could spot them out there. The last thing they needed was someone telling Alex’s dad that they were still seeing each other, even when they knew he’d be leaving for God knows where in less than a month specifically so he wouldn’t be around Michael.

But Alex enjoyed being around Michael even though he was risking some dangerous consequences.  Even if being around Michael consisted of watching him read a tattered up textbook he borrowed from the library on quantum mechanics.  Alex was growing to love that stupid book though. Every 10 minutes or so, he would sit up dramatically and announce something Alex hardly understood, excitement radiating off his body like a teenage girl who’d just gotten a text from her crush.  Alex then got to watch him collapse into his sleeping bags and read some more with big, engaged eyes. Michael didn’t seem to mind the fact that he couldn’t move his left hand whenever he had Alex and a book in proximity. It gave Alex a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

“Y’know, Alex,” Michael suddenly said, taking Alex’s eyes away from his nails.  They were dry for the most part since he’d only been touching them up. “I think you’re the only guy in the world who can pull makeup off that well.” Alex cracked a smile, gently using his socked foot to nudge his thigh.

“That’s just not true,” he laughed.  Michael pursed his lips, resting his head on the book as he stared up at Alex.

“Okay, maybe not, but you definitely pull it off the best,” Michael decided.  Alex shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the boy he felt ungodly blessed for knowing.  Michael made him feel like he was safe and wanted and Alex was drunk on it every time he looked his way.

“I don’t know, I think you’d look sexy in makeup.” Michael’s cheeks flared up a bright red and he turned his nose towards the book, trying to hide the sheepishly smile.

“Shut up,” he whispered.  Alex was sure his heart skipped a beat and he was overcome with the urge to make sure that smile didn’t go anywhere.  He leaned closer, placing his hand on the back of Michael’s thigh.

“Nah, seriously.  I mean, you’re already sexy as hell, but… some eyeliner?  Mascara? Maybe even paint your nails? Fuck, Guerin, you’d be…” Alex tried to find the right word to make him squirm as he cautiously inched his hand further up.  Michael was chewing on his lip, staring at Alex with daring eyes.  

Michael was always unpredictable.  Sometimes he seemed to be the nerdiest and most innocent boy in the world.  He’d blush, he’d giggle at neck kisses, he’d occasionally prefer to ramble about physics in lieu of making out if not at the same time.  However, other times, he’d basically be possessed by a trained seducer. He’d smirk and flash the most challenging eyes in the world, he’d tease in a way that made Alex forget his own name, he’d lure a side of him out he didn’t know existed.  He dreaded the idea of leaving it all behind.

“You know, you can… you can do my makeup whenever you want,” Michael said.  Alex moved his hand to the small of Michael’s back.

“Well, I have a few things in my bag if you’re tired of psychics,” Alex suggested.  Michael sat up.

“Okay,” he said, letting his physics book fall to the wayside.

Alex was a little shocked that he was actually willing to let him put makeup on him, but he sorted through his bag anyway. The idea of making his manly, psychics-loving mechanic boyfriend all pretty with eye shadow and lipstick had him feeling giddy. He never thought Michael would let him.

After screwing the top back on his nail polish, he scooted closer to Michael with his makeup bag in his lap. It wasn’t a big collection and he definitely planned to have more one day, but this would do for now. Michael grabbed his knees and pulled him basically into his lap, smiling as Alex made himself comfortable.

“First of all, we need to get this out of the way,” Alex said, using his fingers to try and push Michael’s curls away from his face. However, it didn’t work very well as they just bounced right back into place. So, he fished in his bag and pulled out a bobby pin, securing the thick curls out of his face as best he could. “You’re so cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this, accept that I’m right and close those pretty eyes,” Alex instructed. Michael licked his bottom lip before listening. Alex dried it with his thumb which earned a content sigh from his boyfriend.

They fell silent as Alex pulled out the small eye shadow palette Maria had gotten him for his birthday. He used his middle finger to put the gold color on his eyelids. Michael was a calm participant, hardly flinching even when Alex lined his eyes with black eyeliner.

“The first time I put on makeup, I flinched like fifty times,” Alex commented.

“I was Isobel’s test dummy the summer before freshman year. Those were never good looks,” Michael said. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Well, I’m doing my best to make you look decent,” he insisted.

“I trust your skills more than I trust 14-year-old Isobel’s,” Michael admitted. Alex just hummed in response and chose not to focus on that compliment, pulling out his mascara.

“Blink for me,” Alex instructed softly. Michael did as he said until his eyelashes were evenly coated. He couldn’t help but smile at his work. He was right, add a little something and he would look fucking gorgeous. He couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, trying to follow when he pulled away. Alex held him in place.

“One more thing, open your mouth.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Alex rolled his eyes and searched for his gold-colored lipstick that he admittedly spent his first paycheck on. It was so pretty that he just couldn’t help himself even though he knew he’d never have an excuse to use it. Now felt like the perfect excuse.

Alex held Michael’s jaw and carefully coated Michael’s bottom lip with it.

“Now rub your lips together like this,” Alex said, showing him what he meant and watching him messily copy. Alex spent a few seconds touching it up and then leaned back, taking in his full face. “That’s a really good color on you.”

“Thank you,” Michael answered even though he didn’t even know what it was. Alex sort of wished he knew more about makeup if only to do his face even more justice.

“Wanna see?”

“Yeah.”

Alex pulled out a compact mirror and gave it to him, watching him open it to look at himself. Michael stared at himself and blinked a few times as if he didn’t know how to react.

“Do you like it?” Alex asked softly.

“Yeah,” Michael answered.

He kept sneaking peeks at his reflection for the rest of the evening. Alex didn’t say anything.

.2.

“I think you would look good in a dress.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that.”

Cassie Anderson had met Michael Guerin the way she met most boys that were too pretty to make sense: at a bar that was so run down that he seemed to glow in comparison. She’d seen him shooting pool and had bought him a drink. She didn’t realize that would lead to her spending seven nights in a row with him in her bed, trying anything she asked with the utmost respect.

It was strange to have a twenty-year-old boy be simultaneously really good in bed, really gorgeous, and respectful as hell. It made her much more comfortable asking for things than she usually was with men she’d only known for a week. She liked that.

“Why not, have you ever worn a dress?” she asked, rolling onto her stomach to look at him. He was still laid out on the bed with limbs splayed in every direction, face entirely blissed out. As masculine as he was, he took a strap like a champ.

“No,” he said, tilting his head in her direction with that sweet little smile he wore whenever he was willing to entertain whatever she wanted, “But I’m not really built to fit in one.”

“I bet I could find one in my closet that would fit you,” Cassie suggested. He blinked slowly and then started to turn his body toward her.

“Oh yeah?” he said. She smiled at him, wide and confident. She reached over and placed her hand on his slightly hairy stomach, rubbing just enough to get that content little sigh from him.

“I know you like being macho, but you’re pretty too,” she said. Michael rubbed his eyes and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll entertain your vision,” Michael said, “On one condition.”

“What?” Cassie asked, already smiling as she sat up.

“It stays between me and you. No making fun of me to your next boy toy, alright?” he said, voice playful as he sat up.

“Of course,” she agreed easily. He grinned and leaned in for a kiss that she accepted. In her 26 years of living, she’d never met a man so down for whatever. She would be sad to see him go whenever this eventually had to end. However, she liked the idea that he’d stay a fun memory.

Cassie climbed out of bed and headed to her closet, searching for something that had some type of lace-up to cinch to his waist. She was a little bit bigger than he was and a little bit taller, so that felt like a necessity. She found one that was floral against black and a string lacing up the back. Perfect.

She brought it to him as he laid all posed on her bed. She rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet, relishing in his light-hearted laughter. He was so cute it was hard to manage sometimes. How the hell had she gotten him to come back so many nights in a row, again?

“Raise your arms,” she instructed. Michael smirked.

“You gonna dress me up, Mama?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she laughed. He obeyed though that shit-eating grin never left his face, letting her pull the dress over his head. It was a little tight over his broad shoulders, but not so tight he couldn’t lift his arms so it felt like a win. “Turn around.”

Cassie tightened it to his waist, creating a faux hour-glass figure that his shitty jeans could never. When she spun him back around to face her, she took a step back to admire him. As expected, he was fucking gorgeous.

“You look hot,” she said. He smiled helplessly. “No, seriously, you’re so pretty.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, come see,” she urged, pulling him towards the body length mirror. She continued to admire him and felt a familiar heat pool in her stomach as she watched him admire himself. He twisted a bit in the mirror, a different shade of confidence on his face. Suddenly it wasn’t just confidence about his behavior, but about how he looked. “See, you’re gorgeous.”

“Maybe,” Michael agreed, biting on his bottom lip. She grabbed his hips gently and he leaned into her. “Okay, so maybe I’m pretty.”

Cassie laughed and moved her hand to tilt his chin for a kiss. He folded into it, turning around to press himself into her and deepen the kiss. She smiled through it, her hands wandering and pushing up the skirt of the dress to feel the skin of his thigh.

“You’re so pretty,” she breathed.

“I feel pretty,” he agreed.

If they played dress-up for a few more nights before going back to being strangers, no one needed to know.

.3.

“Your skin is smooth.”

“Yeah because I shave and use moisturizer, take the lesson.”

Benny Giuliani had been pretty entranced with Michael Guerin the moment he saw him. He may or may not have gone to get his car fixed for dumb things five times before ever asking if he might be interested. He found it hard to guess those kinds of things and, eventually, Michael had to do the actual asking. Benny had simply sat there fumbling over ‘well, you see, is there any way you might be, like, I don’t know’. He accepted the teasing Michael gave him for it with ease.

“I didn’t know guys could shave,” Michael breathed, hands still roaming over his arms and his chest as he kissed his neck. Benny tried not to get too distracted by it, but it was admittedly difficult. He liked him so much.

“I used to be a bodybuilder,” Benny told him, “It was sort of a requirement. I like how it feels, though, so I kept it up.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, biting gently on his shoulder and soothing it with a wet kiss. Why had he waited so long to come out? He could’ve had cute boys kissing on him way earlier. How had he gone 30 years without men and then three more years without this one in particular? “I’ve thought about it.”

“I-I could teach you,” Benny offered, gulping softly as Michael pressed hard into back and kissed his neck. God, how did anyone focus?

“That sounds like the least sexy thing you could teach me,” he said in a low voice, pushing into his back harder. Benny laughed, catching him before he basically toppled them both off the bed. He pulled Michael around him to where he was sitting on his lap. He instantly went in for a kiss.

“Does everything I teach you need to be sexy?” Benny asked against his lips. Michael hummed and rubbed Benny’s bearded cheek, grinding his hips down just enough to be distracting. “I can teach you how to shave, one gay guy to another.”

Michael broke the kiss and leaned back.

“I’m not gay,” Michael said. Benny’s eyebrows met in the middle in confusion.

“Then what are you?”

“I’m...” Michael started, pausing for a moment as the gears turned in his head. Benny waited patiently. How could a man who so confidently hit on him in public not be gay? “I’m Michael. I don’t do labels. I like what I like.”

“But you like men,” Benny pointed out.

“You’re only the second guy I’ve been with, I usually hook up with women,” Michael said. Benny’s stomach dropped and insecurity he hadn’t felt in awhile built in his stomach. “But I do like you, I like hooking up with you. I just… I’m not gay.”

Instead of dwelling on the topic that made him want to throw up in confusion, he chose to backpedal in favor of a different, lighter conversation.

“I can still teach you how to shave,” Benny said, reaching up to touch his face. He was so… small. He couldn’t be upset about how he chose to label himself when he was still so young. Twenty-three was too young to know anything, right? “I bet you’d like the way it feels.”

Michael breathed in deep and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his mouth.

“Okay,” Michael agreed, “Teach me.”

Benny lifted him off the bed and carried him towards the bathroom which earned him nothing but sweet giggles. It melted most of his worries about Michael’s intentions with him, but he still tried not to get too attached at the way he was holding onto him.

He sat Michael onto the counter and tried to let go, but was pulled in for a kiss that lasted a little longer than he expected. He didn’t complain, completely entranced by the way he kissed and the way he existed. Michael was a closed book who refused to tell him really anything about his personal life. Benny didn’t know where he lived or what he did for fun. He didn’t know who his family was or about his childhood or about his sexual history. He didn’t share. He was just kind and willing to do whatever and it was hard not to be attracted to that.

Eventually, Benny separated from him and pulled out a pack of disposable razors and grabbed a fresh one. Michael was leaned back against the mirror, watching him with a smile and half-lidded eyes. He always looked at him like that, like every move he made was something worth watching. It made it even harder to understand how he didn’t consider himself gay.

“You wanna take off your pants? It’ll make it easier,” Benny suggested. Michael smirked that filthy fucking smirk.

“Sounds like you have an ulterior motive,” he said. Benny smiled and shook his head, hoping his beard covered up the fact that his face was turning red. “Don’t worry, Daddy, I listen well.”

Yeah, the beard definitely didn’t hide the blush well enough.

It took a few minutes, but soon he was showing Michael just how to shave his legs. Then it led to his arms and his chest, basically leaving his entire body so smooth that even he couldn’t help but touch. He was in nothing but his tight black boxer briefs, his tan skin glistening with water. The only hair left on his body was basically covered, only showing with a line coming from those boxers and the wrecked mass of curls on his head. He looked like a fucking god.

“I think I look pretty,” Michael acknowledged. Benny watched him drag his hand over his own chest, watched him look at himself in the mirror with nothing but intrigue. He stared at himself and his hand gradually got lower, his briefs so tight that Benny thought it had to hurt. He swallowed hard and took a grounding breath.

Benny pulled out his favorite lotion and gave it to him.

“Seriously, it’ll change your life,” Benny told him. Michael just tilted his head, pouting slightly as he laid against the mirror again.

“Why can’t you do it for me?” he asked softly.

So he did.

Their time together only lasted a few days, but Michael stayed on Benny’s mind for years.

.4.

“Incoming.”

Riley looked over their shoulder at the warning the bartender, Maria, gave, trying not to roll their eyes at the man coming their way. He walked with an all too confident swagger and leaned against the bar, eyes not even trying to pretend they had another destination aside from Riley.

“Never seen you before,” he said, tilting his head to the side. Maria laughed at him and slid him a drink that he didn’t even have to ask for.

“Don’t fall for his shit, Riley,” she said before walking away. The guy just smiled and Riley decided to entertain him at the very least. There was nothing better to do in this shit town.

“Riley, huh?” he asked. They nodded and took a sip of their drink. “I’m Michael.”

“And you also apparently have a reputation.”

Michael simply grinned, baring his teeth in a way that said he knew exactly what the hell he was doing. “Maybe.”

Riley finished off their drink, wondering just how many people had boosted his confidence for him to think he was charming through a simple smile. Granted, he was charming through a simple smile, but he didn’t need to know that. Riley shifted to face him completely.

“So, you new around here?” he asked. Riley smiled easily, tilting their head to the side to match Michael’s.

“Is that the best pick-up line you have? That’s kinda sad,” they said. Michael’s smile broke out into something wider, rubbing his hand over his chin.

“You got me there,” he said. Riley sat patiently as his eyes looked them up and down as slow as humanly possible. They had to admit it, they liked that. Confidence truly was key. Michael moved just a little closer, not even paying any mind to his drink. “But it still doesn’t answer why I haven’t seen you before. I’m pretty sure I’d notice.”

Riley reached out and grabbed the drink that was meant for him, enjoying the amusement in his eyes when they took a sip. It was fun to make him wait.

“I moved here for work,” they answered eventually.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a mechanical engineer in the army,” they said. Something flashed behind his eyes that they couldn’t quite catch before it was hidden away again.

“You must make a lot of money then,” Michael said. Riley huffed a laugh, shaking their head at him.

“That’s not something I share with strangers.”

“Let’s not be strangers then.”

“Okay,” Riley agreed, “Let’s not.”

Michael licked his lips and moved closer, fully entering Riley’s personal space. Honestly, they didn’t mind. In fact, they liked it. He was cute and he was interested. Maybe he wasn’t the best idea, but no one around could convince them that it was the worst either. What else could one ask for in a one-night stand?

“So, what’s this for?” Michael asked, reaching out to touch the flag patch on the right sleeve of their jacket. He made eye contact to clear that it was okay to touch which was more than Riley could say about most people that hit on them.

“It’s a pride flag,” Riley told him, “It means I’m non-binary.”

Michael nodded slowly, eyes only a little confused. “Which means…”

“It means I don’t really fit into the whole gender binary thing,” they said. He nodded a little more confidently and smiled, his hand still on their arm as he seemed to fit the pieces together in his mind.

“Cool,” he said, his hand sliding a little further down to a different patch, “So then what’s this one?”

“I’m also bisexual,” they told him. Michael’s eyebrows pulled together and he continued to stare and, honestly, it was weird that that was the one that caused his brain to short-circuit. “It means I like all genders, by the way.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, tilting his head up to look at them with an actual serious look on his face. “So, like, how did you know?”

“That I’m non-binary?”

“No, that you’re bisexual,” he said, not moving out of their close proximity despite the fact that the tone had completely changed. Riley just tilted their head in confusion, waiting for him to add more of a question. In the grand scheme of things, their sexuality had seemed to be the most obvious thing. They liked boys, girls, etc. Simple as that. “Like, when did you realize that’s what it was? And not that it was something else.”

“Well, labels are pretty subjective, so it depends. Why?” Riley asked. Michael looked at them in the eyes, still confused and curious all at once.

“Okay, so, say I’ve slept with women and men. Does that make me bisexual?” he wondered. Riley held back a sigh. So much for a one-night stand.

“I don’t know, do you think it makes you bisexual?” they said. Michael just stared blankly at them. “I can’t tell you what you feel. Did you like being with both men and women?”

“Yeah.”

“So, maybe you are,” Riley said, which was the first thing to make Michael take a sobering step away. This time they actually did sigh. “Or maybe you’re pansexual. It’s really up to you on what fits the best to the way you feel.”

“That’s stupid, I want someone to just tell me,” he grumbled. Riley rolled their eyes and laughed. It seemed to bring a little bit of ease back into the conversation. “Say I was bisexual. That means…”

“That you’re not alone in the way you feel and whoever you’re attracted to is completely valid, you just have a word for it now,” Riley finished. Michael smiled at them and, again, moved in closer. Maybe the door for a one-night stand wasn’t closed.

“You’re pretty cool,” he acknowledged.

“I knew that, but thanks,” they said. Michael snorted a laugh.

“No, but seriously. Thanks. I’ll have to look into it a little more,” he said. Riley nodded.

“You should.”

“But, for now,” Michael said, leaning just a little bit closer, “What do you say we get out of here?”

“I want you to know that was the worst build-up I’ve ever seen,” Riley told him. Michael smiled, big and unashamed. “But I’m not in the mood to say no, so let’s go.”

The two of them made it all the way to Riley’s truck before Michael moved in all the way, kissing them finally. They knotted their hands in his shirt and pulled him in closer for a biting kiss. He seemed to fold into that, willingly being pushed into the side of the truck.

“I know I didn’t give much of a build-up, but I can give you one now,” Michael said in a breathy tone between kisses, “You’re really fucking hot.”

Riley grinned and kissed him harder. “I know.”

Michael laughed, “It’s okay. I already know I’m hot.”

“I’m sure you do.”

It took awhile, but they eventually made it back to Riley’s place. They spent the night talking and fucking until the sun rose before agreeing to see each other again. That one-night stand turned into a four-night stand before tapering off into just nodding to each other in public.

Yeah, Michael Guerin absolutely wasn’t a bad idea.

.5.

Alex pulled Michael into a damn near suffocating hug when he saw him again.

It was Alex’s twenty-sixth birthday and he’d just signed his life away for another four years, but that didn’t even matter if he got to be home with Michael again for a few days. He missed him like life itself. How the hell had he gone so long without him?

“I missed you,” he whispered against his neck, pressing a kiss there for extra measure. Michael squeezed him tight right back. They stayed there for a while in that goddamn airport just hugging the life out of each other because they could.

“Let’s go,” Michael murmured, “I wanna go home.”

Alex agreed without hesitation.

The drive home was agonizingly long and quiet, but Alex stayed tucked as close to Michael’s side as he could. He knew if anyone around here saw him, a man in uniform, cuddled up to a man that looked like Michael, they’d both get the dirtiest looks. So he closed his eyes.

“Hey, you know you mean the world to me, right?” Michael asked, so soft that Alex barely heard it. But he did and he smiled, pressing in closer.

“Yeah.”

“So, can I tell you something I figured out while you were gone?” Michael continued, voice still hesitant and soft.

“Yeah, anything,” Alex agreed, reaching for the hand he didn’t have on the steering wheel. He cradled it between both of his encouragingly. He wasn’t quite sure what Michael was preparing to say, but he was open to whatever he had to say. Honestly, he just liked hearing him talk. He missed him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Okay, so you know how we agreed we could hook up with whoever while we’re apart?” Michael said. Alex opened his eyes and tried to ignore the sick feeling he felt because of that. He tried to school his features as best he could and pushed away the urge to think of the worst case scenario.

Instead of asking what he did, Alex said, “Yeah.”

Michael took a deep breath and pulled over into the desert, putting the truck in park and turning to face Alex completely. Alex had no idea what to expect and was beginning to get nervous. He played the last thirty minutes over in his mind. Michael hadn’t kissed him hello, but they never did, but did that mean something bad this time? Were they over? Had he found someone new?

“I don’t know how to preface this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it,” Michael said, letting out another heavy breath, “I’m bisexual.”

Alex felt his entire body deflate and he put his hand over his racing heart with a laugh, trying to calm himself down over that frankly miniscule reveal.

“You scared the shit out of me framing it like that, you know?” Alex said. He realized that was probably the wrong reaction when he noticed that Michael hadn’t moved, staring at him with nervousness written all over his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re not mad at me?” he asked softly. Alex felt like he had whiplash from that statement, sitting up straight and turning to face him completely.

“What? Why would I be mad at you, baby?” Alex said, softening his voice as he reached up to caress his cheek. Michael still seemed reluctant to buy it. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I said I’m bisexual,” he repeated, “I’m not joking.”

“I don’t think you’re joking,” Alex assured him, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. He moved closer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I just thought it was something serious.”

“I am serious.”

Alex stared at him for a moment, took in his face and the almost fear in his eyes. For a moment he hadn’t even considered that he might be feeling the way Alex did when he came out to someone new. Bisexuality just didn’t seem like as much of a problem, especially when you were talking to someone you were already sleeping with and, for the most part, people wouldn’t think anything of it. He could pass as straight or gay with no problem depending on the occasion.

And that was the problem. He was beginning a never-ending cycle of coming out over and over and over to whoever he spoke to.

“Why would I be mad at you for that?” Alex asked again, shaking his head. Michael shrugged.

“Some people don’t like that.”

“Well fuck them. Thank you so much for telling me,” Alex said, scooting even closer to the point he was almost in his lap, “I’m sorry I laughed. You didn’t laugh when you found out I was gay, I’m sorry. I just really thought you were going to say something bad so it was sort of a relief.”

Michael took a deep breath, closing his eyes and resting his head against his. Alex cradled his head in his hands.

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t want you feeling like you can’t tell me things. Seriously, thank you for telling me,” Alex told him, “Have you told anyone else?”

Michael shrugged. “The person who taught me the word, but that’s it. I wanted to tell you first because I figured you’d be a safe person to tell.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t care what you are as long as you’re happy,” Alex told him, weaving his fingers into his hair, “I’m sorry I laughed.”

Instead of talking more about that, Michael moved in for a kiss. Alex accepted happily, pulling him in closer. He missed kissing him more than he could even put words to. He missed him. He dreaded the fact that he had to leave him again. One day, he wouldn’t have to. One day, they could be together.

“You sure you’re okay with it?” Michael asked one more time. Alex smiled.

“I’m more than okay with it,” he told him, pulling him back in for a kiss, “How does it feel, though? Coming out of a closet you were never really in?”

Michael laughed, a genuine sound that was so, so much better than the nervousness of before. Alex kissed him again through it. He never wanted to let go.

“Good,” he said, “It feels good. Really good. A weight off my shoulders, honestly.”

“I love that for you,” Alex told him, giving him one last kiss, “Now let’s get home and celebrate for real.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

It was all fun and games until Alex admitted that he’d re-enlisted. He left a few weeks later, more unsure than ever about his and Michael’s relationship. But, hey, they’d gotten through shit before.

What was one more bump in the road?

+1

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

Michael couldn’t help but admire Alex as he leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. He looked good as fuck, dressed head to toe in black with a leather jacket and tight jeans. His hair was growing out nice and perfect and Michael just adored him. But he had to take his eyes away to focus back on not cutting the area around his ankle.

"Why are you shaving your legs?" Alex asked, stepping in further and sitting down on the chair that was in front of the sink. Michael stole another glance. That was his boyfriend. His for-real-this-time boyfriend. Wasn’t that wild?

“Because we’re going out tonight,” Michael said like it was obvious. Which it was. Michael didn’t really try to keep it a secret anymore about what he did and didn’t like to do. After some trial and error in life, he’d realized that the best way to exist was to do exactly what he liked. So he shaved his legs and he wore a skirt and did his make-up when they went out to a club. He was out and proud and it felt good.

“Mhm, we are,” Alex confirmed, “We’re supposed to leave in ten minutes though and you’ve got a lot of getting ready left to do.”

Michael gave him an innocent smile before just pursing his lips for a kiss. Alex rolled his eyes and dragged the chair closer to the bathtub, leaning to give him a kiss before sitting back down.

“Isobel’s gonna be pissed that we’re late,” he pointed out.

“She’ll get over it,” Michael insisted. Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head.

“How about this, I’ll do your face while you finish up that? It’ll speed it up,” Alex suggested. Michael flashed a wide smile. He liked when Alex did his make-up. It made him feel like a teenager, confused and in love. Honestly, that’s how he felt around Alex most of the time anyway.

With a little bit of telekinetic energy, Michael brought his make-up collection to Alex’s lap. It was a bit of a team effort to do, but it did indeed pass the time. Granted, it also made Michael want to just pull him into the tub with him and kiss him until his lips were numb, but that could wait.

Eventually, they both finished and Michael dried off as carefully as possible. Alex just sat and watched which, honestly, Michael understood. He could watch Alex get dressed and undressed over and over for the rest of his life. Sometimes, he even liked watching himself get dressed and undressed. Alex didn’t seem to have a problem with that either.

Instead of wasting more time thinking about that or the fact that Isobel was already honking her horn outside, he got dressed in a short white skirt and a relatively loose, white button-up that was only about one step away from completely see-through. He tucked it into the skirt before double checking that his hair and face looked alright.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Alex told him, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to his neck.

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

Michael turned around to kiss him, honestly wanting to just stay home at this point. He liked getting dressed up and he liked looking like a fucking wreck and Alex liked him regardless. It made him feel loved in a way that he couldn’t quite find the words for most of the time.

“Isobel is going to piss off my neighbors if we don’t go out there soon,” Alex murmured.

“Okay, okay,” Michael sighed, “Let’s go.”

It was strange to think that it had taken him so long to find exactly where his place in life was, especially since he’d honestly had right in the beginning. No matter what, Alex was a safe place to call home and explore and love. No judgement, just him. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t seen that immediately. Or maybe he had. But, honestly, those what if’s it didn’t matter anymore.

He was happy .

Simple as that.

[darlinvandijk]

Thrift Shop

Concept: request where “Ruel cleaning out his closet and accidentally giving his favorite hoodie (some limited edition shit) to a local thrift shop. Then one day he sees you in *that* hoodie and politely asks you if he could have it back. you have no idea who he is, but after some time, you get to know him better, and catch some feelings.” Dm me and whatnot for requests and I’ll be happy to comply! (This is really fucking long lol) I hope you enjoy :)

I slowly walk through the rows of clothing in my absolute favorite thrift shop, letting my fingers graze against the clothes, feeling all of the different textures and fabrics. I came here to buy a suede skirt for my mother’s annual Holiday party, but so far I have about 5 pieces of clothing and a hat, a hat that I’ll probably never wear. I’m strolling through the men’s section, trying to make my way across the store to dresses, when my eyes catch a muted reddish brown crewneck. I pull out the sweater, eyeing the “Holy Spirit” black writing across the front of it, before ultimately deciding its going to be added to my ever growing pile of clothes. I finally get everything I need, go up to the register, and pull out my card to pay for everything I impulsively bought. The cashier, who’s gotten to know me and become one of my best friends over the last few months of me always being here, looks at my stuff and sends me a small smile, before looking at the sweater and grinning.

“We actually just got this one in today, you should have seen the guy that donated it” he muses, folding everything up and placing it into a bag for me. I raise an eyebrow at him, intrigued by what he found so interesting about the mystery donor. He watches my expression and lets out a chuckle.

“Jake you have to tell me now, what was so great about him?” I question curiously, wanting to know why my friend had such a mischievous smile on his face. He passes me the bag and receipt before dramatically leaning on the counter and letting out a sigh, throwing his head back for effect.

“Sweets he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, like he could take me anywhere and anytime, and honestly definitely your type” Jake draws out, causing me to choke on air before laughing. I let him fan himself dramatically for a couple more seconds before rolling my eyes and laughing at my dramatic but great friend.

“Okay jake if you’re done losing your shit, I shall be on my way. Don’t forget this weekend though, you and Ali are supposed to bring the snacks since I’m hosting movie night” I remind him, about the deal our friend group made for our weekly movie night, completely ignoring his fascination over the unknown guy. He nods his head and waves bye as I make my way out of the store and back to my apartment, thinking about how I can put all my new clothes to use. ———

It’s been a few days since I went thrifting and today I decided to finally head out to the shops, wearing my new favorite sweater. I paired the Holy Spirit sweater with a pair of shorts and some black vans, before deciding the outfit was decent enough to be out in public in.

I make it to the shops and stroll around, looking at the setups in the windows, the different cafes and pastry shops, and all the various stores just begging me to spend my money there. I decide to make a quick stop at a cute little pastry place, sitting outside with my drink and chocolate croissant. As I sit outside at one of the tables enjoying the nice weather and hearing the chatter of the families strolling around, I feel someone tap my shoulder. I turn around in my seat, coming face to face with someone’s stomach, before having to completely tilt my head back in order to make eye contact with the random but extremely tall stranger. I freeze a little upon making eye contact with the gorgeous green eyed male, before throwing him a confused look since he obviously had something to say.

“Hey I hope I’m not bothering you, but uh this might be weird, like really weird actually, but uhm can I ask you a question? Did you thrift that sweater?” He asks with a crooked nervous smile, looking me over, spending a little bit longer on my sweater before looking back into my eyes. I slightly blush at his unwavering gaze at me, from not only being put on the spot, but from being flustered by the attention of such an attractive guy. I then take in the question he asked, becoming perpelxed that he came all the way up to me to ask about the very worn out sweater.

“Yeah? Why?” I question, throwing him a small smile, not wanting to come off too awkward or blunt to him. He gives me a boyish one back before taking another long look at my sweater, nervously wringing his hands in front of him, and slightly shifiting from foot to foot. I catch on to his anxious behavior and motion to the seat in front of me, blushing at the smile he throws me before taking the seat. He takes a deep breath before looking me in the eyes with an apprehensive expression.

“Can I have that sweater?” He blurts out completely catching me off guard, while also catching himself off guard by the apparent blush that rises to his cheeks. I stare at him with my mouth partially opened, unsure on what to say to his abrupt question. Like I barely know the guy, he might be attractive but I’m not going to strip right here for him to have this sweater. I slightly tilt my head to the side as I watch him let out a groan and cover his face with his hands.

“So I don’t know you and honestly have no clue what to say. Like well no, because I don’t have another shirt to wear, and also no because I bought it and don’t usually give my clothes to random people? Like I’m not about to strip here for a random guy?” I slowly speak, trying to figure out how to reply to him, still confused by this whole situation. He takes a deep breath at my answer before running a hand through his hair, causing my breathing to stutter for a second. He looks up at me and throws me a smirk, catching on to my reaction, making my face instantly heat up.

“That wasn’t the way I was going to ask, it just came out, but like please I’ll do anything to get that sweater back, I’ll even go buy you a new shirt right now ” the boy pleads, with big round eyes and a slightly pouted bottom lip. He pulls out a wallet and sets it on the table, giving me a look of pure desperation. I honestly have no clue what this guys deal is with this sweater, like did he say he wanted it back when I never took it from him in the first place?

“You want it back? But like I don’t know you so there’s no way I took it from you” I explain watching him bounce his leg anxiously, biting at his bottom lip. He starts to turn pink, seeming almost embarrassed to explain his situation with my sweater.

“Here’s the thing, I donated a lot to the thrift store, but I had no clue that my favorite sweater got put into the pile. Like that sweater is really valuable and also has a lot of sentimental value to me. I’ll pay you for it if that’s what it takes” he rushes out, eyes locked on the sweater, before looking at me with a nervous look. I look at the sweater, then to his wallet, then back to him, before deciding what my final decision is.

“I don’t know you at all, like I don’t even know your name, so I feel weird on giving you something I just bought, but I also don’t want to take your money. Why don’t we get to like know each other and then I can decide on if i believe the story and if I’ll give you the sweater” I reason, watching a grin blossom across his face at my words, before nodding his head vigorously, making me throw my head back and laugh at his excitement.

“Deal, how about we start with something simple. My names Ruel, what’s yours?” He asks, with a sincere look of genuine interest as he waits for my reply, I smile before holding my hand out, ready to finally introduce myself to the beautiful guy in front of me. ———

“You’re kidding me? There’s no way that’s true” I snort out, watching Ruel give me an incredulous look from his spot on my couch. He scoffs as he looks at me, throwing me a betrayed glare, trying his hardest to not smile. It’s been two months since I met him on that fateful sunny day, two months of inside jokes and shared stories, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have him in my life.

“For you information it IS true, I met Tyler and literally ran away from him after introducing myself, I was too nervous” he explains, laughing at the look I give him, before seating myself next to him, handing him his takeout container, both of us getting ready to binge on some Netflix movies, like we usually do on each other’s free days. He sends me a small smile and grabs a blanket, pulling it over the both of us, saying it’s protection from the cold and possible falling noodles if we drop any. We enjoy each other’s company in silence, with comments every now and then, our food finished with only the empty cartons on the coffee table, when he makes a move leaving me completely flustered.

He shifts a little, his left side completely pressed against my right side now, before setting an arm on the back of the couch, slowly moving it down until it rests upon my shoulders. I look up at him to see him already watching me, his green doe eyes and rosy cheeks waiting for my reaction, before I softly smile and turn to rest my back against his chest. He lets out a quiet chuckle, moving his arm down to wrap around my waist, holding me as we watch the rest of Spider-Man. This is the first time he’s made a move on me like this, like yeah we’ve had our moments of flirting and being a little touchy, but he’s never genuinely made a move. I smile as I think about how he might like me, the way I’ve grown to like him, shocked that he wasn’t just being friendly during all those fleeting touches we’ve shared. Shocked that maybe the feelings were mutual.

As the movie comes to an end, I notice the way our position has changed throughout it, at some point we must’ve shifted because I’m currently resting on his chest as he lays down across the couch. His hands rest on my back, one resting on my bare skin underneath my sweater, the sweater that actually made this whole friendship possible. He shifts once the final credits start to roll, sitting up and pulling me with him. I make a move to get off his lap, but he places his hands on my hips and holds me in place. He gives me a nervous grin, much like the one he gave when we first met, and reaches up to move some of my hair behind my ear. He lets his hand linger against my cheek for a second, before putting it back onto my hip.

“So I don’t know how to say this.. because I truly value our friendship and would hate to fuck it up.” He spits out, breaking the silence with his anxious statement. I give him a small smile, lifting a hand timidly to smooth out the wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. He stops furrowing them and just watches as I lay my hand against his cheek, feeling it heat up instantly.

“I don’t think anything you say can ruin our friendship, just go ahead and say it” I softly tell him, hoping to ease up any of the nervousness he feels, starting to get anxious myself on what has him so shy all of a sudden. He nods his head and take a deep breath, before looking up into my eyes and giving me the cute boyish grin I’ve come to love. I start to blush under his gaze, not being able to read the emotion that’s filling his eyes.

“I really like you, like I mean really fucking like you. I get it if it’s not reciprocated, we can just pretend this never happened, but I just needed to tell you. I’m really falling for you” Ruel whispers out, looking away from my eyes, too scared to see the look on my face. I can feel his hands shaking as they hold my hips, filled with fear of rejection. I stop breathing for a second, not being able to comprehend that he actually likes me in a way as more than friends. I let out a quiet laugh watching his eyes snap to mine in confusion, before I throw my arms around his neck, and hold him as tight as I can.

“I’m falling for you too” I softly whisper out, my face still pressed into the crook of his neck. I feel his body shake as he lets out a laugh of pure happiness, completely elated that he not only didn’t ruin a friendship, but that his feelings were wholeheartedly shared. We sit in silence for a little bit, just enjoying the peace and happiness filling the air around us. He pulls back so he can see my face, glancing down at my lips and the back to my eyes, slowly leaning in before connecting our lips in a soft yet sweet kiss. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, leaning in to place a few chaste kisses, causing me to let out a laugh. I watch his eyes light up in awe upon hearing the gleeful laugh leave my mouth, happy that he’s the one making me so happy.

“Sooo does this make you my girlfriend?” He asks slowly, not too sure where to go next after making the main move. I give him a smirk, laughing at the way he instantly becomes weary at my expression.

“Hmmm no” I sarcastically reply, watching his eyes widen before they form into a glare, catching on to my underlying sarcasm. He scoffs and instantly tackles me into the couch, landing on top of me and pressing kisses all over my face, making me shriek out at the sudden attack. He pulls away a little so that his face hovers above mine, giving me the softest smile before leaning down and pressing his lips to the tip of my nose. We smile at each other, both of us mentally agreeing that this is the start of our relationship. ———

“Hey baby, can I ask you something?” Ruel asks anxiously from my kitchen, where he’s currently on the search for the Cheetos he left here. I glance up from my place on the couch, waiting for him to go on with whatever his question is, before finally coming to the conclusion that I’ll need to verbally reply before he can finally spit out his question.

“Yeah?” I question, throwing him a small smile, not wanting to make my poor boyfriend even more nervous than he already was. He gives me a boyish one back before taking another long look at my sweater, nervously wringing his hands in front of him, and slightly shifiting from foot to foot. I catch on to his anxious behavior and motion to the seat next to me, blushing at the beautiful smile he throws me before taking the seat. He takes a deep breath before looking me in the eyes with an apprehensive expression. As I look at him I feel a strange sense of deja vu, almost like this had happened before.

“Can I have that sweater?” He blurts out completely catching me off guard, while also catching himself of guard by the apparent blush that rises to his cheeks. I stare at him with my mouth partially opened, unsure on what to say to my idiot of a boyfriend. Like he might be attractive but I’m not going to strip right now just for him to have this sweater back. I slightly tilt my head to the side as I watch him let out a groan and cover his face with his hands.

“Sorry I don’t give clothes to random people” I jokingly reply, watching the look of realization cross his face. He walks over to the couch and lifts me up, placing me on top of his lap with a sly grin. I wearily watch him, completely unsure on what his next move will be, he’s literally so unpredictable. He leans forward and gives me a kiss, sliding his hands under my sweater, and letting them roam across my skin. As the kiss becomes heated, I notice the way his hands seem to be less touchy and more focused on the sweater. I instantly pull away from Ruel and send him a glare, catching on to his sneaky little plan.

“Ruel you asshole, did you only kiss me right now to try and get the sweater off me?” I snap out, watching the guilty grin that spreads across his face. He laughs as I continue to glare at him, placing his hands on my waist and rubbing soft circles into my skin, enveloping me in warmth with his touch. I continue to glare at him, not wanting to let him off the hook so fast, even though I can already feel my stubbornness melting away.

“You had told me that you wouldn’t strip for a random guy, but I’m not random anymore baby. You’re looking at your boyfriend who is kindly pleading with you to give it back, I’ll even give you a different sweater of mine or even take you to buy a new sweater” He pleads, watching the look of mischief cross over my face at his words. He lets out a groan, realizing he just practically made a deal with the devil himself. I excitedly flash him a grin, feeling my cheeks heat up in pure excitement for what’s to come.

“Time to go to the Thrift Shop” I screech out in glee, causing Ruel to instantly press his face against my chest in defeat. I mean it’s his fault really, maybe he should double check piles before donating.

[connorandersons-blog]

To the Library

Rating: Explicit Word count: 1,806 Warnings: none Ship: Markus/Connor AU: Human Chapter 1/5

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

He honestly had just gone to the local library for a book that Carl wanted. He didn't even really know about this library or the fact that he had a membership. Well, Carl gave him a membership, but still.

He thought he'd just go in, check out the book, and be done. But nope, of course, the world had to throw him a curveball. Said curved ball was a curly-haired man smiling at him with the softest brown eyes he had ever seen.

It was hard to believe this man was real with how adorable and hot he looked at the same time. And, he was smiling at him.

"Welcome, is there anything I can help you find?" The man said, tilting his head. Oh fuck. This was unfair. This was completely unfair. He was dying in a library. Yep, this is how it ended.

Oh fuck, now the guy was blinking at him. Right, he had to say something. Literally anything. "Uh, sure." Literally anything but that.

 The man smiled and stood up from his chair, walking around the counter. Markus sighs happily when he sees a nametag. Connor. Huh, it actually fits him really well.

"What can I help you find?" Connor asked, clasping his hands together in front of him. Uh, he hadn't really noticed with him sitting behind the desk, but this man was muscled. Not in the huge, bulky way, but in the slim and agile way.

He looked so soft and comfortable in his dark blue sweater vest, white button-up shirt, and tie. He looked so casual, yet so put together. He just wanted to reach over and run his hands through his hair.

Right, he was supposed to answer his question, not daydream. "I'm looking for a book, it's called The Republic by Plato."

Connor nods and hums before his eyes light up. He didn't even check a computer to know where it was, which was impressive. "Follow me."

He walks confidently over to a section of books. He slides his hand against the books as he walks past until he gets to the section he's looking for. Then, of fuck, he sticks his tongue out and quickly scans over the books.

He finds the book way too fast for Markus's liking, but he does have to bend over slightly to get it. And, damn. If this man is single he has no idea why. Sadly, he stands back up and holds out the book to Markus.

"There you go. Anything else?" His voice is so fucking cute too. Why does life hate him? He honestly wants to know.

Markus really wished he had another book to get, but he can't think of one. It wasn't that he didn't like to read, but he never could find a book to really get into. "That's it, thank you."

Connor smiles and for a second Markus is sure his heart stops. He was definitely finding some reason to come back here again. He'd read every single book this library had if it meant Connor would smile at him.

"Alright, do you want me to check you out?" Markus is so tempted to make a comment but holds back. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him off when he had only just met him.

So, instead, he nods, trying his best to not smile like an idiot. "I'd love that, thank you." Connor nods and leads him back to the counter.

Markus fumbles with his wallet for a second, face turning hot as he slides the library card out. He hands it over to Connor, their hands just briefly touching.

Connor doesn't waste any time scanning the book then his card. He slides both of them back with a small receipt. "It's due in three weeks."

Markus nods and takes the card, putting it back in his wallet, then taking the book. He would definitely find a reason to come back before those three weeks were up.

"Have a nice day!" Connor says, smiling once again. It was like looking at the sun, he couldn't do it too long or he'd be blinded by its radiance.

"Thank you, you too." With that, he left the building and headed back to Carl's.

He finds a reason to come back the next week. He makes sure to come in at the same time just in case that's the only time Connor worked.

He walks in and once again Connor is sitting behind the counter. He glances up and grins widely when he sees Markus.

"Welcome back! Are you looking for anything specific?" He asks, ready to stand again.

Markus nods and Connor stands, coming over. "The Books that Shaped Art History."

Connor thinks and nods his head. "Good choice, are you studying art?" Connor asks, leading him once again.

"Not exactly, I take care of a man, Carl Manfred, and he's a painter. I wanted to learn more about it for him. Though, I do have a question for you." He says, keeping face with Connor.

Connor paused only for a second before nodding. He seemed generally excited to be able to answer anything Markus wanted to know. "Oh?"

"How can you remember where all the books are without using the computer?" The library was pretty huge, and two stories high.

Connor chuckles and Markus really wanted to hear him full-on laugh. "I have an eidetic memory. I originally worked as a detective and used it for that. Then, well… now I use it for this." Connor gestures around.

That somehow made him all the hotter. Honestly, could he get any better? "Well, thank you for your work, both here and with the police."

Connor ducked his head, trying to hide a forming blush. Part of him wanted to wrap Connor in blankets and never let him go. The other part… well, those thoughts definitely weren't appropriate for a library.

"Oh, I never got your name last time," Connor says, changing the subject.

Markus smiles as Connor runs his hands over the books. If he didn't know better he'd think this was his first and only passion. "Markus Bennett."

Connor smiles and holds out his hand for him to shake. "Connor Stern." Markus takes his hand. It's incredibly warm, but not that soft. He really didn't mind. He could feel calluses which he assumed were from his work as a detective.

He doesn't want to let go, but he does and Connor tucks his hands into his pockets. Connor leads them down a row of bookshelves and stops in front of a section. He has to stand on his toes to grab the book.

He hands the book to Markus. "Anything else?" He had so many things he could say. Would it be too forward to give him his number? Probably.

"No, this is it." Connor nods and starts leading him back to the desk. "Not to pry, but you said you take care of Carl Manfred?"

Markus kept nodded, "I did. Are you a fan?" It wouldn't be too surprising. If he was, then he had a reason to invite him over.

"Not exactly, not to say I don't enjoy his paintings. I just know a man who knows him. My mother taught Elijah Kamski." No fucking way. Oh, he was so having a conversation with Carl when he got home.

"Your mother is Amanda Stern?" He asked, slowing to a stop.

"Well, adopted mother. She adopted me and my twin Caelum when we were young." He knew she had two adopted children, but he didn't expect it to be Connor. He never got to meet them before. Small world. Now he really had to talk to Carl.

"Wow, it's really a pleasure to meet you. I'm honestly surprised we haven't met before." Connor nodded and started walking again.

"Likewise. Tell Carl I said hello. I doubt he remembers me or Caelum." Oh, he definitely remembered. Connor went behind the desk and scanned the book.

"I'll let him know. How is Elijah doing?" He hadn't heard from the man in a while. After the man invented self-driving cars he practically vanished. He only knew him because he was friends with Carl.

Connor shrugged, "I haven't gotten to visit him recently. I know that he's now engaged to Chloe." He only got to meet Chloe once. She was an incredibly nice girl, though he had a feeling she could break him in two if she wanted.

"That's good. She always seemed perfect for him." Not to mention she could keep him in check. She seemed like the type that could handle his eccentricities or put him in his place if it got too much.

Connor printed off the receipt and hesitated before handing it over. He looked around and grabbed a pen, scribbling something on it before handing it over. "It's due in three weeks. I… I hope I hear from you before then."

Markus smiles and looks down at the receipt, and his grin widened when he sees what he assumes is Connor's number.

He nods to Connor and makes his way out, taking the bus back to Carl's. He stands in the back, not bothering to sit for the short ride.

He walks into the large house, smiling at the parakeets in their cage. He walks into the living room and smiles when he sees Carl already sitting at the chessboard.

He sets his book down, putting the receipt between the pages. "Ah, Markus. How was your visit to the library?" Markus smiles and walks over, sitting down opposite to Carl and looking over the board.

"It was good. I had an incredibly fascinating conversation with a man that works there." He says, moving a piece on the board.

Carl nods and gives a hum. He hesitates before moving one of his, taking one of Markus's.

"I talked to Connor. Connor Stern. He says hello, by the way." He looks up to see Carl smiling peacefully. Oh, he so knew and sent him to the library on purpose.

"Hm, I remember meeting him when he was young. Smart boy, his brother was too. He was planning on going into the police force." Carl hums when Markus moves a piece.

"He's definitely grown up." He mumbles. Carl chuckles and gives him the look.

"You should invite him over. I'd like to see how he is doing." He seemed to be doing incredibly well from what Markus could tell. If he knew anything about Amanda Stern was that she'd make sure her boys were doing well.

"Maybe I will, at some point. I barely know him." He said, moving another piece.

Carl gave a hum, moving a piece, a small smile curled into Markus's lips. "I guess you'll just have to go to the library, more."

"I guess I do. Checkmate."

[raccdog]

UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS (Part 5)

(NOW ON AO3!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Adrien laughed at the joke Nino had just told him. He was eating lunch with him and Alya, on one of those rare occasions where his father let him have some free time. The girl was going through her mobile phone, a slight frown on her face. She was sitting on the opposite side of the table, right in front of her boyfriend Nino, the space to her side empty as they waited for their fourth friend.

Adrien smiled to himself. He was glad he had made up with Marinette yesterday. He had spent the rest of the evening with her and Luka and it had been the most fun he’d had in a very long time. He had tried the tea -he had almost barfed from the pungent smell,- played videogames, sang to Disney songs as Luka played them with his guitar and most importantly, he had eaten a good deal of baked goods. That night when he had gotten into bed his stomach had been as full as his heart. The warmth of the bakery following him to his cold sheets and never leaving. One of the perks of being friends with Marinette was that, he supposed.

“Hey guys what do you think about the way Ladybug’s been acting,” Alya’s sudden question pulled him from his reverie. “What do you mean?” The blond asked, wincing inwardly. He had been avoiding the heroine, choosing the patrol routes he knew were more uncommon and not meeting up with her before or after them. She had tried calling him at the beginning, but after his avoidance she stopped, just sending curt messages in case of akuma attacks.

He knew he was acting childishly, but he couldn’t help it. Their last argument had left a bad taste in his mouth and he dreaded talking to her again, in fear of another vicious altercation happening between them. This was not the time for in-fighting either. With Master Fu and Chloe gone, and the miraculous in Hawkmoth’s possession the Parisian heroes needed to stay together more than ever.

“It’s just, there are so many reports of civilians seeing Ladybug out on patrol, even during the day too,” Alya explained. “She’s never been that active before. It’s as if she was looking for something.” Adrien frowned at that. That’d make sense actually. Maybe Ladybug had been trying to locate Master Fu’s or Hawkmoth’s location?

Deep in thought, he didn’t see a black-haired girl rushing towards them.

“I’m sorry I’m late guys!” Marinette panted behind him, startling him. “I had to talk to a teacher beforehand and I couldn’t find them anywhere.”

“Girl were you running the whole time? You look like you’ve just ran a marathon,” Alya commented worriedly, her eyes scrutinizing the other teenager. Adrien agreed. Marinette was heaving loudly, sweat running down her skin, her expression pained.

“Yeah...I didn’t want to be late to lunch,” she groaned, sitting down besides the brunette, sighing in relief as she rested, eyes closed.

The rest of the day was pretty boring, even by Adrien’s standards. The only thing he looked forwards to was his evening meeting with Kagami after fencing class.

They walked down the Seine, ice cream in hand, making small talk. Kagami hadn’t made any advances on him this time though, and Adrien felt guilty when that made him sag with relief. He liked Kagami’s company and wanted to spend time with her, but he’d be lying if he said the idea of kissing her felt... off.

It’s not that he didn’t find her beautiful, as she was ridiculously his type, but the idea of intimacy with her put him off for whatever reason. He hadn’t voiced his worries with her yet, too afraid of the consequences. Maybe it was a bit selfish of him, but he still wanted to hang out with her. If he could prolong this as long as she’d let them without any further need for intimacy, he’d try his luck, as bad as it was. He was sure the ache for close affection would appear eventually anyway, so it was only a matter of time.

“Hey, is that Ladybug?” Kagami said, looking up towards the roofs a block ahead of them. Soon enough, a flash of red could be seen jumping across Paris’ roofs. Adrien tensed for a second when she stopped and looked down, her eyes fixating on the pair for a minute before she took off, running and jumping away once again.

“I wonder what’s she doing here,” Kagami wondered aloud. “Do you think there’s any trouble?” Adrien only shook his head, anxiety crawling like bugs under his skin. “There hasn’t been any akuma alerts yet, there’s probably nothing wrong,” he told her.

But as they resumed walking his mind was filled with doubt. Something was wrong, very terribly wrong.

It was midnight when he decided to go patrolling. He was planning on talking with Ladybug today. Alya was right. The superheroine had been seen at all hours several days in a row. She was probably overworking herself again. Whatever she was doing seemed important and he couldn’t let his own pettiness get in the way of their hero responsibilities any longer.

It was almost an hour later when he decided that Ladybug wouldn’t show up tonight. Cursing his luck, he moved to a more deserted part of the city. There were plenty of abandoned sheds and factories there, where they had fought Copycat a long while ago. That would be his last stop before he gave up.

Of course the night he finally decided to meet and talk with her was the night she chose to take a break. Karma had decided to bite him in the rear, apparently. Grumbling, he paused on top of a large abandoned warehouse to check his baton. Maybe he could check his messaged and try to call her? But just before he could dial Ladybug a whiff of a familiar scent made him halt.

That smell... But it couldn’t be her. What could she possibly be doing here, so far from home? And at this hour too?

Bristling slightly he followed his nose, and soon he found the cause of his displeasure a few meters down the street, walking and scribbling away on her notebook, not even looking up. Was she crazy? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was for a girl like her to be walking alone at this hour, on a pretty deserted zone no less? With his baton’s help he leaped from the top of the warehouse, landing right in front of her and making her shriek in fright.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He chided, a growl rumbling in his throat.

“Chat Noir! You almost gave me a heart attack!” She complained, her hand on her chest.

“Don’t even start!” He yelled back, anger and worry pouring out. “What are you doing here? At this hour too!”

“Well I-”

“Do you know how dangerous it is for you to walk alone at night? And you weren’t even paying attention! What if something happened to you!”

The girl only rolled her eyes, making him flare in annoyance. “Ok mom,” she retorted, not looking at him. Chat Noir gasped indignantly. “Marinette! Don’t give me that!” He roared. “Are you out of your mind?” He waited for her to say something, his eyes searching hers, but she was still pouting and looking away from him. “What happened? What could possibly be enough of a reason for you to be fucking here!” She flinched at his cursing, making Adrien feel kind of bad for rising his voice, but at the moment he couldn’t care. She still kept silent.

“Tell me!”

“I needed inspiration for designing!” She finally screamed, her glare turned to him. Adrien felt himself take a few steps backwards, her explanation muddled by his worried and anxious thoughts.

“D-designing?” He whispered in disbelief. She was this far from home in the middle of the night just for that? He felt himself grow dizzy as he shook his head. He had to sit down before he blacked out.

“Are you trying to kill me princess?” Chat Noir sighed as he leaned down on the sidewalk, his head between his hands as he closed his eyes, the panic from before receding. He had been so unsettled with the idea of Marinette walking the shadows all alone and unprotected. “You can’t do this to me Mari, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” He confessed, his voice trembling as his shoulders shook slightly.

Chat Noir heard her approach but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Even as she sat down beside him and embraced him sideways he still couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” her voice said in his ear. “I didn’t mean to make you so worried.”

They stood there for a while, neither of them saying anything. Chat Noir found comfort in her warm embrace. She was still there with him. She was ok. Nothing bad had happened to her. He sighed, tension finally leaving his shoulders. He returned the hug, savoring the way her body felt against his. Marinette hugs were pleasant and cozy. He wished he could get them more often, both as his superhero-self and as his civilian-self.

Finally deciding it was late enough, he stood up slowly, grabbing her hands as he went so that she followed after him.

“Come on princess, let’s get you home,” he said, Marinette nodding and stepping closer, her expression a mix of guilty and tired.

The journey to the bakery was a quiet one. Her arms around his neck held him tight as he carried her bridal-style. Chat Noir saw the bakery come closer as he jumped from house to house in mild disillusionment. He wanted to stay like that a bit longer. Keep her in his arms just for a couple of hours more, the moment unbroken. He knew she’d be safe that way at least. But, it was very late, and he didn’t have the luxury to be selfish right now. Because that’s what he was. Selfish.

Soon they landed on her terrace and she stepped down, luckily for him without her noticing the grabby motion his hands had made unthinkingly after they separated. They stood like that for a minute, neither of them sure of what to say. He searched her eyes and so did she. Her blue eyes glowed especially tonight, her gaze mysterious and bright, but so tired. He hated seeing her like that. So drained. He’d give her his own energy if he could.

Not being able to resist anymore, he stepped closer, holding her arms gently.

“Promise me you’ll never put yourself in danger like that princess,” he begged. Her eyes widened at his words, and an odd expression he couldn’t read crossed her face.

“Chat I can’t-” But he cut her off. “Please promise me Marinette,” he murmured, resting his forehead on top of her head. She just stayed silent for a while, before hesitantly nodding, making him slump in relief.

He untangled himself from her, his face feeling warm as he smiled softly down at her. Her face remained conflicted and oddly unreadable, but her promise was enough. He turned to go back to his house, barely reaching the rails before soft fingers around his leather-clad hand stopped him.

He looked at her once again, her bluebell eyes wide and bright. Too bright. They were almost gleaming. Before he could ask her if she was ok she spoke. “Chat I’m...” she started before her mouth snapped shut. She stared at him, her eyes darting all over his face. He waited for her to continue, not wanting to make her more upset than she appeared, and it seemed like whatever she was to say was of big importance. The magic was abruptly cut when she smiled, softly shaking her head as she closed her eyes, which made him blink in surprise. He had been so entranced in her deep sapphires it’d felt like a shock when they disappeared behind her eyelids.

A mild chuckle left her rosy lips, and he felt his eyes immediately zeroing on them, his face warming up even more. She looked at him once again, appearing resigned for some reason. “Nevermind Chat,” she said. “I’ll tell you another time.” She let go of his hand.

“Goodnight Chat Noir.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, princess,” He answered, frowning, but parting ways nonetheless.

As he leaped away, he couldn’t help but feel like she had meant that goodbye to be a final farewell. And he hated it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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[staticscreenwriting]

All you have to be is here - Part 12

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who has a phenomenal smile and who is way too nice to him.I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 12 of ? (Slight mention of smut)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 //

Please help a girl out by reblogging. Thank you

♥Attention ! If you wanna be tagged pls send me a message or an ask it’s easier and faster for me than going through the tags of each part every time. Thank you :)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.] 

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

There’s a crying kid on the airplane two rows behind him and a woman loudly bickering to her seat neighbour, right across. It’s loud and stuffy and the seats are well small.

None of it matters though, because Billy relishes in this moment. He’s finally on his way home. Even if it’s just for a few days, his heart already feels much lighter from just the thought of it.

The ever present anger coursing through his system, is but a mere memory in the back of his head, as the plane starts to move.

“ Are you excited ? “ (Y/N) asks from beside him. His initial reaction is an overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. What a silly question. He’s been looking forward to this day from the moment his dad had first told him about their plans to move to Hawkins. California is home. It’s bright suns and soft mornings and piano melodies carried by the wind all the way from the living room down to the beach.

It’s scuffed up knees and sweat and waves so big they made young Billy speechless as he watched them crash against the shore, a look of curious fascination on his face.

Billy really wants to roll his eyes at the question, throw her some sarcastic comment and make that the end of it. He knows it comes from a good place though, a place of care and worry and — unfiltered joy.

She’s genuinely excited for him. No one’s ever been excited for him. Not to this extend.

It also comes from a place of anxiety. It’s hidden and if you don’t know what to look for, you wouldn’t realize it. Billy knows though. She’s told him before, casually slipped it into a conversation. “ Yeah, I’ve never flown before but, no big deal.”

But it is a big deal. It’s a huge deal.

So taking that all into consideration, he doesn’t roll his eyes at her. Instead he takes her hand in his, placed a kiss on her forehead and grants her a smile. It’s a “yes” without having to say a word. It’s a “everything’s gonna be alright.”

And he believes it. He truly believes it himself.

His eyes wander back towards the window as the airplane lifts up into the air. The world down below gets further and further away with every second, every blink of an eye. Houses that towered tall above his head just moments ago are now but tiny tiny dots.

Billy has expected to feel some kind of way once they’re up in the clouds. Insignificant. Like one small dot in an ocean of shapes. One dot that makes no difference to the whole picture whether he’s there or not.

He expected to feel small. Instead, it all feels weirdly liberating. To see how much world there is to discover. How much life there is yet to be lived. To see that Hawkins, too, is just a dot. There’s so much more out there, he doesn’t have to be confined to this shitty little town that makes him feel like he’s stuck in a perpetual state of anger and frustration.

The world is, literally, at his feet right now. And now, he’s no idiot. He knows the world ain’t his fucing oyster. There’s things he’ll never get to do. But it’s nice to let yourself dream every once in a while. And what better time than while up in the damn clouds.

______________________

Driving along the Californian roads he knows so well is a strange feeling. The car is different and, to a certain extend, the boy driving it is different too. The roads are the same though. They feel so familiar.

Yes there’s a mix of emotions swirling around inside of him. It feels like he’s hardly been gone and yet it feels like a lifetime has gone by since he’s last driven along these roads.

There’s a sparkle in (Y/N) eyes, he notices as he glances over towards her. She looks gorgeous as the sun falls through the window and onto her skin. Like a scene straight from a postcard. Perfect. Flawless.

“ So you said, we’re going to stay at a beach cabin. Isn’t that like, super expensive ? “ she asks, leaning back in her seat and swaying along to the music ever so slightly.

“ Ah I got a good deal. “

H doesn’t tell her that this good deal comes from knowing the woman who rents out these beach cabins. That she once found him crying by the beach, blackeye and nosebleed perfectly on display. She told him then, after giving him cookies and cleaning him up, that he would always have a place to stay whenever he needs it.

She’s keeping her word.

There’s some traumas you don’t have to share, and maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to. Some traumas you just live with. You grin and bear and hope that one day when things get better, they won’t weigh so heavy on you anymore. That one day they turn into dusty memories that only flatter around your head every once in a blue moon.

So this one he’s keeping to himself for now. Because right this moment, though it still feels heavy on his chest, it doesn’t really matter. He’s home, driving along familiar roads with a girl that makes his heart do silly things.

_____________________

The beach cabin is small compared to the other ones lining the coast but to Billy and (Y/N) it is more than enough. There’s a living room with a little porch connected to it, looking straight out onto the beach. A small kitchen, a bathroom with a shower and a big bathtub. Billy would be lying is he says he hasn’t thought of all the things they might be doing in that tub.

The bedroom though, is the most breathtaking of all the rooms. It’s all softy blues and whites and light grays. Like the ocean on a peaceful sunday morning captured in the confines of one small beach cabin. There’s huge windows that allow you to look straight at the sea as you lay in bed. He can’t wait to wake up to this view. Can’t wait to wake up to it with (Y/N) in his arms.

“ This is insane. I absolutely love this ! “ (Y/N) exclaims as she throws herself onto the bed with enthusiasm. “ I wish we could go out explore, like right now. But I am so exhausted. “

They’d been up all night, packing the last of their stuff and taking a taxi to the airport. It’s only once she mentions it, that Billy realises just how tired he is. Though he knows there’s no sleep coming for him anytime soon. All his senses, all his emotions are running on overdrive right now. It’s an abundance of memories clashing with so many ideas of what these next few days might hold. His head is too loud to even think about sleep right now.

“ How about you go take a nap and I’ll go get us something to eat. How’s that sound ? “

“ So domestic. What a gentleman “ (Y/N) jokes, coming over to wrap one arm around Billy’s neck and absentmindedly play with a button of his shirt with the other.

“ Gentleman, huh ? I’ll show you how much of a gentleman I can be later “ Billy replies then lowers his head to level his lips with her ears, softly breathing against her skin, making goosebumps appear. “ when I fuck you into this very mattress. We can even watch the waves while we do it. “

“ So romantic “ she quips but there’s a very prominent red hue coloring her cheeks.

“ Jesus, did I make you blush. “

“ No. “

Lies.

“ Alright. Whatever you say, babe. Go have a nap. “ he says and stirs her towards the bed, giving her ass a little tap “ you’ll need the energy later. “

____________________

Some upbeat spanish music is playing from the overhead stereo as Billy browses the isle of some tiny bodega in one of the many side streets away from the more touristy areas.

There’s two sandwiches in the little plastic bag hanging from his arm, but that’s only enough to keep them fed until dinner. He knows he’s gonna stock up on at least a bit of food. He also knows his girl needs her coffee in the morning.

His eyes move along the shelves stocked with all kinds of foods and drinks, as a voice speaks up from beside him.

“ Hargrove ? “

It’s a voice he hasn’t heard since the day his family left for Hawkins. He remembers the last words this voice ever said to him. They’ve been flowing through his head many many times. They were usually followed by so many questions. The loudest of them all, all but screaming at him. “Why don’t any of them call ? Why don’t any of them care ? Why doesn’t he care ? “

Johnny Foster stands as lanky and tall as he always did. His shaggy brown hair falls into his face with every move he makes and his shirts seems to swallow his narrow frame. There’s a baseball cap on his head in an attempt to keep his unruly hair in place, and the pair of beat up sneakers still have Billy’s name scribbled onto them, alongside those of all their other friends.

Johnny hasn’t changed a thing since they day the Hargroves left. Billy doesn’t know if this is comforting.

“ Hargrove ! It’s you. Hey man. “

Before he can even say a word, he’s wrapped into a big hug. Johnny is the human equivalent of some over excited golden retriever puppy. He smells like ocean air and pot.

“ Man. I didn’t know you were gonna be home. You should’ve called !”

It’s then, that Billy is shaken from his thoughts. He should’ve called ? They should’ve ! Johnny and Dylan and all the others. None of them did though. So why should he.

“ You didn’t. “

“ Didn’t what ? “

“ Call. “

Johnny’s face screws up in confusion. “ Yeah I did. I talked to your dad and you stepmom a few times. You were never home. “

It’s like cold ice water running down his spine, as Johnny throws those words at him. He did call and he did care. Everything he thought he had come to terms with, is now but a lie. An intricate web of deception, woven to keep him isolated from the few happy things in his past.

God, he fucking hates Neil. And Susan.

“ I take it you didn’t know that. Hey man, I’m sorry. “

“ Not your fault. “

“ So you’re home ! Are you back permanently ? “

Yeah. He’s home. And it feels like it. The pressure, the weight, te sadness. It’s all dulled and muted here. There’s been hurt and pain here too, lots of it. But the cause of most of those things is now so many miles away.

“ Not for now. Just for a few days. It’s my girl’s birthday. “

Johnny takes a double take, eyes wide in surprise “ Your girl, huh ? Like an actual committed girlfriend, kinda girl. “

“ Mmh. “

“ Damn, Billy Hargrove has a girlfriend. Indiana changed you, man. “

He says it not with malice though, not even with mock judgement. It’s a fact. One that’s undeniable and unshakable. Billy doesn’t think Johnny knows even the smallest amount of how much Indiana has changed him. Or maybe not the state itself. Maybe it’s what came with it. The people. The girl. The feelings.

“ Guess so. “

“ She cool ? “

It’s such a Johnny think to ask. Some of his other friends from California probably would’ve asked if she was hot. Maybe even more crass things. Not Johnny. Johnny doesn’t care about superficial things. Johnny cares about people in the way a dog does, or a little kid. Are they nice? Are they fun? And most importantly, are they cool ?

“ Yeah, Johnny. She’s real cool. “

“ Bring her around, dude ! Let me call the others and set up a bonfire down by the beach. Like old times. “

“ I don’t know. “

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. It’s just a lot. Seeing his old friends again. Some of which aren’t the way Johnny is. Aren’t forgiving and sweet and goofy.

“ C’mon, Billy. I wanna meet your girl. I’m your best friend I should get to meet her while you’re here. And I know the others want to see you too. We missed you, man. “

And maybe that’s all it takes. To know he was being missed. By the same people he spend month believing had just forgotten about him.

“ Alright, yeah. Let’s do it. “

As Johnny smiles his goofy, little boy smile. Billy thinks maybe he missed his friends too.

_____________________________

(Y/N) lets out a passionate moan of absolute satisfaction. Sex with her, it’s just different. Especially here. With the ocean and the beach as a backdrop to her bouncing on his dick like her life depends on it.

Her skin is soft, so fucking soft. And she feels so warm around him. The light from outside casts an ethereal glow around her. She looks like a goddamn angel as she rides him.

Her breasts bounce as she moves in a steady rhythm, fast, rough, hard. In a way that seems almost pornorgraphy if it wasn’t for the innocent smile of pleasure on her face. She’s a fucking goddess. In all ways possible.

The way her body shakes and twitches let’s him know he’s doing a good job. That he’s bringing her close. Closer. Always closer. She places a sloppy kiss on his lips as she comes undone around him, squeezing him in the most delicious ways. And how can he possibly hold it together at that. His moves are sloppy and uncontrolled but he's so desperate to chase the high, to follow her over the edge. And when he does, god — he’s straight to heaven.

Their sweaty bodies stick to each other, as (Y/N) slumps down on the bed next to him and places lazy kisses up and down his neck, actively killing him little by little. If this girl knows just how big her power over him is, he’s positively screwed.

Than again, getting screwed by her really isn’t the worst case scenario now, is it ?

“ Why are you smiling so big, huh ? “ her voice comes out husky and rough.

Billy hasn’t even realised he’s smiling. Not actively. But really, what is there not to smile about. He’s home, with his girl, giving and receiving great orgasms, while the waves crash against the shore in a peaceful rhythm.

“ Because I’m happy. “

And it’s not a fleeting moment then, like it usually is. His happy moments in Hawkins are few and far between. Not here. It’s been a constant state of bliss since they got off the plane.

“ Good. That’s all I ever want you to be “

“ Are you happy ? “ Billy asks her and pulls her closer to his body, if that is even possible.

“ I’ve never been happier. “

That is all he ever wants her to be.

__________________________

The bonfire casts a glow of gold an red across the beach. There’s people mingling everywhere and most of them have stopped by Billy over the course of the night, catching him up on their lives and asking about his.

Some of them, he is indifferent about and some of them he’s missed so dearly. (Y/N) stands by his side, smiling and laughing and cracking jokes. And then Johnny comes up to them, with his usually slagging walk. Like his legs are too long for his body.

“ Hey, guys. “ he slurs, obviously having had a cup or two of the punch already.

“ (Y/N), that’s Johnny, my best friend. “

It’s not really a lie. He’s his best friend. The thing is, (Y/N) is his best friend too. And they’re both important for many different things. He loves them both for completely different reasons.

It’s also kinda cheesy to say his girlfriend is his best friend, so he keeps that to himself. He doesn’t have to say it for her to know. It’s a mutual feeling.

“ Johnny, this is (Y/N). My girlfriend. “ It feels great to introduce her this way. Not weird as he had expected. It feels — right. More right than anything has felt in a while.

“ Aw, man. You’re gorgeous. You sure you wanna stick it with this screwball ?  I mean, yeah he’s got a great ass but, the hair ? the mustache ? You sure ? “

Johnny is the only person that gets to say there things about Billy without having to fear any repercussions. Because they don’t come from a place of hostility or ill will. That’s just what friends do. It’s loving banter. It’s friendship.

“ Ah, you know. He’s being really good so far. I think I’ll keep him around for a while. “ (Y/N) replies and then the two of them fall into a joking conversation full of laughter and smiles and drunken hiccups from Johnny.

Billy, then, thinks that this is what his life should’ve been from the start. Going to a party by the beach. Watching his girlfriend and his best friend joking around. Smiling. Laughing. Happy.

There’s a warm feeling spreading through his chest. One of complete and utter content. If moments where photographs, he would take a million pictures of this one. To hold it close forever as the moment his life truly begins.

____________________________

It’s many, many hours later as Billy walks along the beach by himself, plopping down onto the sand a small distance from the bonfire. The party is winding down a little further up the shore but most of the people are either asleep on the floor, in their cars or have already left a while ago.

The world feels peaceful around him. Quiet and serene. Bad things happening, pain and hurt and anger — It all seems to far away here. As if this is a bubble he gets to live in for a few short days. A bubble showing him how good a life can be.

He knows that soon the night is giving in to the blinding light of a rising sun and with a day gone, the inevitable pop of the bubble gets closer and closer. But he’s positively tipsy right now on punch and love and life. And he doesn’t wanna think about Hawkins. About Neil. About what might happen with his mom.

He just wants to be. For one moment he just wants to be alive without having to worry about anything else.

A soft touch shakes him from his daydream, as (Y/N) drops down into the sand next to him. Their eyes are on the horizon but their hearts are with each other. Always.

“ I like your friends. “

“ Yeah ? That’s good. I think they like you too. “

Really, how could anyone not like her? She’s phenomenal in every aspect.

“ You know what else I like. No — what I love ? “ she continues.

“ What’s that ? “

“ The way you are, since we arrived. So — light. You smile more and you laugh more and you’re goofy and fun and I haven’t seen you scowl. Not even once. “

Billy hasn’t expect her to notice. He noticed a change in himself, sure. But he thought it was more of an inside change. For a second it makes him feel uneasy. Vulnerable. Showing your emotions to other people can be dangerous.

But then it sets in, that this isn’t Hawkins and this isn’t Neil and he can be vulnerable and he can show emotions. There’s no shame in it and there’s no fear of any consequences.

The only consequence coming from it might be (Y/N) showering him with even more love in return, and that he can surely live with.

“ I love you, (Y/N). “

It’s still strange to say it but some things mean so much, they’re worth saying even if it’s scary.

“ I love you too. “

See ? Totally worth it.

The sun slowly rises in the east behind them, it throws hues of blues and pinks across the city, across the buildings and palm trees and streets of people waking up. California mornings are spectacular for they feels soft and magical. And maybe it’s a memory clouded in pure and utter nostalgia, but that’s how they always felt to Billy.

It still feels this way now. Though magic comes from many places these days. His friends. His girl. His home.

“ Hey, baby ? “

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna go see my mom the day after your birthday. I think I want her to meet you. “

(Y/N) kisses his cheek, then his lips, then smiles “ Okay. I’m with you every step of the way. “

The morning sunshine makes her shimmer in a golden glow and Billy wonders how his heart is ever going to hold together when the time comes for them to leave ?

__________________

taglist:

@babygal-babygal / @anxiousamandapanda / @imjusthereforsupernatural / @chhhcherybomb / @tomarisela / @noodlenerd101 / @xxcxrolinexx​ / @bippity-boppity-boopa​ / @mcrmarvelloki​ / @silver-winter-wolf​ / @thecrowclubsmanager​ / @theroyalbrownbarbie​ / @salemlysi​ / @asheseiler​ / @stra-vage​/ @ssstutteringbbbill / @biliyonce / @addictofsupernatural / @angelophany / @charmed-asylum / @xxemoluverxx / @killer-queen-xo / @1lluminaticonfirmed / @rebel-broken-angel / @ayybtch / @dean-jace-doctor / @sarai-ibn-la-ahad / @amesishappy // @your-dreams-are-strong // @blazin-writes // @sgt-morgan

[artificialqueens]

Revelation Sunshine, Chapter 3 (Courtney/Vixen) - Veronica

A/N: Honestly, thank you so much to anyone who’s reading this very self-indulgent story. I adore all of you, and especially the creator of Galactica, my lovely friend @theartificialdane. Click here for previous chapters. <3

Last chapter: Long distance relationships are tough, but the girls are trying.

This chapter: Vixen joins Courtney in LA for the VMAs, and then Courtney surprises her in Chicago.

***

Vixen wasn’t sure why she agreed to this. She was going to be so far out of her depth. But when she told Courtney about a lecture she was giving at UCLA in August, a lecture that happened to be the same weekend as the VMAs, Courtney somehow convinced her to come to the awards show as her date.

“You have to do it,” Asia had informed her, when she heard the hesitation. When she said that she still didn’t know, Mayhem interrupted to give a slightly more forceful message.

“When the fuck are you gonna have the chance to do something like that again?” she demanded. “Come on, stop overthinking like a little bitch.”

Courtney’s cajoling was more gentle. Logical, even—pointing out that it would be great publicity for her book and her podcast.

“It could open you up to a whole new audience. Think of the people that you could reach!”

It was a good point, Vixen conceded. So she agreed, and they casually discussed the logistics. She didn’t really panic until she was in the uber on the way to Courtney’s house. What was she doing? Who did she think she was, showing up at what she was sure would be a gated mansion, to be professionally styled for a red carpet?

It wasn’t a gated mansion. It was a bungalow tucked into the side of the Hollywood Hills, covered in vines and bursting with plants of every type. After giving her a warm, tight hug, Courtney led her into the living room, where someone (a stylist?) was waiting with racks of clothes.

“I didn’t know exactly what you’d want, so I had Jo bring you lots of options,” Courtney said. “We should choose now so that they have time to tailor it while we’re at the spa. Jo, can you show her your favorites?”

Vixen glanced around the room while Jo presented her with wardrobe options and Courtney poured her a glass of lemonade. Without the explosion of clothes, it would have been a cozy, regular living room. Two sofas, some art on the walls. Nothing remotely ostentatious.

“I like your house,” she told Courtney, accepting the drink gratefully. “It’s...uh...not what I was expecting.”

“No?” Courtney asked, head cocked.

“No. Well, I mean, it’s like...a normal house,” Vixen explained.

“And you were expecting, what? A spaceship?” Courtney giggled.

“No, like...I don’t know. Some baroque mansion with columns and a butler and big chandeliers, I guess.”

“Hmm, yeah, sounds like my style,” Courtney said, making Vixen laugh.

“Shut up. You’re rich and you love glitter, okay? So I just thought it would be more…”

“Tacky?”

“Yes?” Vixen scrunched her face up apologetically.

“I mean, that’s fair. My first house here was a bit of a Swaravski nightmare. Oh, I really like that one!” Courtney exclaimed, looking at the royal blue dress in Vixen’s hands. “Do you want to try it on? You can use the guest room as a dressing room.”

Vixen nodded, relieved that disrobing in front of Courtney and Jo (and a random girl she’d just noticed on the patio, pacing around with a phone to her ear) in the broad daylight wasn’t on the agenda.

After trying on a few choices, Vixen settled on a short, black and turquoise romper - it was fun and sexy, but still classy, and would be comfortable enough to sit around in for hours. Jo was helping her figure out the accessories (with occasional input from Courtney as she pranced around with snacks) when the girl from outside stepped in, carrying Courtney’s fluffy pomeranian under one arm.

“Okay, everything’s all set at the hotel,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Vix, that’s Brianna. Yes, I like those shoes!” She nodded approvingly at the bright yellow pumps Vixen was trying.

“Yeah, hi, sorry. I’m Courtney’s assistant. Brie,” she reached out to give Vixen a firm handshake.

“Ugh, I still hate the word ‘assistant.’ Can’t we come up with a cooler title for you?” Courtney asked.

“Sure, that’ll be my top priority,” Brianna replied sarcastically, then barreled rapidly through the day’s plans. “So, after we wrap up here, we’ll head for the hotel. Massages and manicures at the spa while we set up hair and makeup. We should really start by 2 at the lastest to make sure we can manage something presentable out of...that,” she gestured vaguely in Courtney’s direction with a smirk, everyone laugh, “And then leave at 4 to drive to the theatre and do the red carpet by 4:30 or 5. Then the show, blah blah blah, performance, not my problem, and then we head to Van Nuys for wheels-up at 9. Cool?”

“When do we eat?” Courtney asked.

“You’ll have a meal at the spa. You know, in that area by the dipping pool thing?”

“Oh, okay,” Courtney said.

“And then obviously we’ll have snacks in the room, and we ordered a bunch of stuff for you to have backstage. Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of food.”

“Great.”

“Um...I have a question,” Vixen said, pausing her perusal of the jewelry table. “Are the hair people gonna be familiar with Black hair?”

Brie turned toward her with a vague eye roll, asking, “Do I look like a moron to you?”

Vixen leveled her gaze, not backing down, and answered, “You look like someone who has never worn a protective hairstyle before.”

“Fair enough,” Brie conceded with a grin. “And don’t worry. We got you good people who are very experienced with protective styles.”

“Thanks, Brie! Ooh, how about ‘Executive Vice President of Human Logistics’?” Courtney suggested.

“Whatever makes you happy, girl,” Brianna said tiredly, giving Courtney a salute as she deposited Kylie onto his bed. “I’m gonna go check your suitcases. Or, should I call them ‘transport need satisfaction receptacles’?”

“Sounds good,” Courtney giggled, and Vixen couldn’t help laughing either.

“That little cracker is hilarious,” Vixen commented, admiring the row of bangles on her arm.

“I know, right?” Courtney laughed.

“Hey!” Brianna said, poking her head back in the room, deadpanning, “That was my nickname in prison. Lil Miz Cracker.”

She grinned, waiting for them all to crack up before disappearing again.

“Before her,” Courtney confided, “I had this other assistant that my agents found, this nervous kid who told me I was beautiful like 8 thousand times a day, and it was just...excruciating.”

“The things you’ve overcome,” Vixen said, shaking her head with mock sincerity. “It’s so inspirational.”

Courtney laughed gaily, handing her a pair of earrings to try, which Jo immediately snatched out of her hand.

“No! Hideous,” they said, handing Vixen a different pair.

***

In the car to the hotel, Brie asked Vixen if she had a preferred gender for her massage therapist.

“Well, I kind of like a more gentle massage, so…I mean, not to be discriminatory, but…”

“You want someone with soft lady hands?” Courtney asked, a glint in her eye.

“Kind of,” Vixen replied, hanging her head in mock shame.

“Wuss.”

“You don’t like soft lady hands?” Vixen asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well I mean...there’s a time and place,” Courtney explained.

Vixen looked into her glittering green eyes, head tilted, as she continued.

“For a massage? I like it deep. So as long as they can put some muscle behind it, everything’s good.”

“You’re right, there is a time and a place,” Vixen said lightly, “I occasionally like it deep as well.”

“Good to know,” Courtney said, giggling delightedly.

The whole day was strange, an almost out of body experience for Vixen. At times, she felt like she was hovering overhead and watching herself get rubbed and plucked and fluffed and painted. Pampered and catered to on a level she never had before.

But the red carpet, that was the most surreal experience by far, just a whirlwind of flashes and shouted questions from reporters. Courtney held her hand the entire time, checking in constantly to make sure she was alright, gently directing her where to look and when to pose.

“My first red carpet was terrifying,” she confessed. “So when you’ve had enough, just tell me.”

She was relieved, at first, for her relative anonymity. No entertainment reporters would know the academic world, or a political science professor.

That is, until Courtney put an arm around Vixen’s waist and dragged her right into the spotlight, introducing her to a reporter as “the brilliant author behind the book ‘Beware White Tears.’”

“Oh!” Recognition dawned in the reporter’s eyes as she brushed her bangs away from her face. “This is the unparalleled genius you’ve been tweeting about all year?”

“Yes ma’am,” Courtney said. “Vixen Taylor.”

“A pleasure,” she said, extending her hand to Vixen and offering a dazzling white smile. “Shea Coulée.”

“Nice to meet you,” Vixen said, shaking her hand. She glanced back at Courtney, who was beaming like a sunflower beside her.

“Shea, you should tell everyone to read her book,” Courtney said, smile growing even bigger as she continued to gush, “And listen to her podcast. She’s so incredibly smart, it’s unreal.”

Shea looked from Courtney to Vixen a few times before asking, “So…what’s the story with you two, then? Are you like, an official thing?”

“Shh, I’m working on it!” Courtney said, giggling, pulling Vixen towards the theatre. Startling her a second later with an ecstatic shriek of, “Adore!”

Vixen wasn’t super familiar with Adore’s music, but she did know her from Courtney’s social media. Apparently a big deal now in the punk rock scene, standing there in what appeared to be the same clothes she’d partied in last night, next to a tall, statuesque, impeccably dressed young redheaded woman. They looked to Vixen to be an absolute mis-match of a couple, Adore’s date classy and serene as Adore squealed and threw her arms around Courtney, the two of them clinging to each other and chattering wildly.

“Omigod, I love that dress-”

“You look like a mess. Gigi, why haven’t you-”

“Don’t blame her, I dress myself.”

“How was Prague?”

“Fuckin’ wild, man!”

“Have you met Vixen?”

Courtney turned toward Vixen, who was overwhelmed by the whole exchange, and grabbed her hand once again.

“Vixen, this is Adore, my best friend for life, and her very patient girlfriend, Gigi.”

“Hi, nice to-”

“Augh!” Adore shrieked. “Courtney! Did you see the pictures of Jinkx and Alaska’s new kid?”

“No, what?! When did they...have? Buy? What word are we using?”

“Adopt?”

“Yeah, that-another kid?”

Gigi turned to Vixen, sensing her obvious discomfort, and offered a smile.

“They’re always like this. It’s best just to...ride it out,” Gigi finished with a chuckle. “They’re like toddlers. Eventually they’ll get tired and calm down.”

“Thanks.”

Vixen opted to watch the show from the audience, happy that she had Adore and Gigi to sit with. (Well...Gigi, at least. The jury was still out on Adore.) She knew that Courtney would need to focus on her performance, and sitting alone in her dressing room for large chunks of time seemed nerve-wracking.

But after Courtney’s performance, Brie showed up to escort Vixen backstage. They were only going to have a little time to hang out before Courtney had to leave, getting on a plane to Paris to continue her tour almost immediately after the show.  

Courtney was in the midst of changing when Vixen knocked gently on her door. It was quite a look...track pants and Ugg slippers on the bottom, and a metal corset on top. Brie was helping her out of the corset, and though she didn’t seem remotely self-conscious about being topless, Vixen averted her eyes, waiting until she’d slipped on a t-shirt before addressing her directly.

“You were incredible tonight,” she said honestly.

“Really?” Courtney asked, perching on the arm of the sofa. “I felt like it was a bit of a mess. I could kill Mikey.”

“Who’s Mikey?”

“That dancer who went the wrong way during the second verse? I saw them pounding shots, I think he was hammered. Ugh.”

Vixen smiled softly.

“It’s adorable that you think I was watching the backup dancers.”

In an instant, Courtney’s demeanor changed from professional and annoyed to coy and flirtatious, simpering like a schoolgirl.

“Hmm...who were you watching then?

Brie had slipped away by now, leaving the two of them alone in the dressing room. Vixen stood and walked toward her.

“The camera guys, of course,” Vixen quipped.

Courtney giggled, reaching out for her and pulling her close.

“Oh yeah?” she murmured.

Vixen nodded slowly, then smiled again and shook her head. She slid her hands around Courtney’s waist, gazing unblinking into her hooded green eyes. She leaned in slowly, almost excruciatingly so, pausing for a few moments to enjoy the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding in anticipation.

When she finally brushed their lips together, she could feel the hitch in Courtney’s breath, a whimper escaping from the back of her throat. Courtney cupped her cheeks with both hands, pulling her in closer, deepening the kiss, coaxing her mouth open.

Vixen followed her, dazed, onto the sofa, where she dove head-first into the moment, finally able to just enjoy each other for the first time in months. She quickly lost track of time and space, thinking only of the girl in her arms, how soft and delicious she was...how she made Vixen feel so wanted.

She kissed down Courtney’s torso, lifting her t-shirt to trail her lips gently over the angry marks from that horrible corset. She began to pull off her bottoms, pausing just before sliding them over her hips to make sure it was okay. Courtney lifted up slightly, watching Vixen through lidded eyes, legs spreading open once her panties were flung to the side. Vixen paused, breathing her in, making her shiver with anticipation as she spread her thighs even more.

Vixen cleared her throat, fingers dancing up the inside of her thighs.

“Remember, I’m pretty...new at this,” Vixen said, and Courtney nodded vigorously.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry.” Her hand wound its way into Vixen’s hair.

“Okay.” Vixen leaned forward, lips barely brushing against her.

As a soft sigh left Courtney’s lips, Vixen took a deep breath. Her desire to satisfy, to live up to expectations, momentarily overtaken by nerves, until she steeled herself. Just French kiss her pussy, you idiot. Stop freaking out and lick her until she comes.  

Courtney was shockingly easy to please, as it turned out. A hand in Vixen’s hair, guiding her, and breathy, whimpered instructions were all she needed to begin unlocking the mysteries of her body.

“Harder, harder…please…”  

Vixen didn’t know why she was surprised. From that first tweet, Courtney had been utterly direct with her. And even their first time together, she didn’t hold back at all from saying what she wanted. But somehow, the shameless way she buried Vixen’s face into her pussy, rutting against her, moaning out commands...it all just made everything so much hotter.

“What else?” Vixen asked, raising her eyes to take in Courtney’s flushed cheeks, eyes rolled back in her head. “Tell me what else you need…”

“Pinch my nipples,” Courtney gasped, “And...yes, god...suck harder.”

Courtney arched up, thighs now pressing against Vixen’s ears, muffling the sounds when she started to moan. Vixen had a brief concern of “what if someone hears” before deciding that she didn’t fucking care. All she wanted was to make Courtney come—a task that was looking increasingly likely as she writhed and shook in her arms.

She flicked her tongue against Courtney’s clit, shocked at how much she was enjoying the whole experience. Nerves melted away; the only thing on her mind was the girl pressed up against her tongue.

“I love how wet you get,” Vixen said, voice low, moving her mouth to nip lightly at her thigh.

“I love how wet you make me,” Courtney panted, then arched up, whimpering. “Baby...oh, god…”

Something about being called baby in this context gave Vixen a deep, unfeminist thrill; she had to pause and catch her breath, slightly dizzy with the embarrassing, intoxicating thought of being called a good girl. She panted against Courtney’s thigh, felt her quivering on the edge before going back to her clit, tongue circling her gently, coaxing out a broken moan.

God, she was a mess. A beautiful, shuddering mess. Vixen hummed against her, sucking on her clit, soft at first and then harder and harder.

“Fuck, that’s so good, baby, keep going…”

Courtney groaned, hips rolling faster, and Vixen complied, listening to her moans, the best music she’d heard all night. She kept sucking, didn’t stop until Courtney’s muscles went slack, the only sounds coming from her satiated little whimpers.

“Did I do okay?” Vixen asked, looking up at her almost timidly.

“You…” Courtney lifted an arm weakly to caress her cheek. “You are perfect. Come here.”

Vixen crawled forward, squishing herself in beside Courtney on the sofa. And as Courtney wrapped herself around Vixen’s body, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to cover them both, Vixen found herself buying in completely, at least for the moment, to the delusional fantasy of them. Of what they could be. Of what a shared life would look like.

She was rudely snapped back into reality when Brie opened the door, an uncharacteristically apologetic look on her face. Vixen sprang away from Courtney on the sofa like a guilty teenager, then immediately felt stupid.

“Sorry,” Brie said, “but we gotta get to the plane.”

“Okay. Just give us twenty minutes?” Courtney asked, a resigned note in her voice.

“You can have ten. Setting a timer.” Brie closed the door firmly.

Courtney turned to Vixen, who smiled sheepishly.

“I’m not really sure why I panicked. Lil Cracker just freaks me out.”

“Well…” Courtney appeared to ponder this for a few moments before reaching out, fingers seeking out Vixen’s zipper. “She did give us ten minutes…”

Vixen shook her head, chuckling.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about that. I’m too paranoid about another interruption.”

“But you took care of me. It’s only fair.” Courtney trailed her fingers up Vixen’s arm.

“Yeah, and you worked very hard today,” Vixen said, and off Courtney’s distressed look, wrapped an arm around her again, adding, “You can owe me one.”  

“Well...I guess in that case, I should probably put my knickers back on.”

Vixen laughed, picking her panties up off the floor and handing them over.

“Ugh. It’s so annoying that I have to take off so quickly,” Courtney said. After slipping the panties on, she leaned her head on Vixen’s shoulder. “Do you want me to text Adore? She and Gigi are waiting for you to take you to the after party, so-”

“No, it’s fine,” Vixen said. “I don’t care about the after party.”

“You sure? Because you can totally go. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“I’d rather just stay with you until you have to leave,” she admitted. “We don’t have much time, so…”  

“Yeah?” The smile that lit up Courtney’s face was enough to make Vixen’s heart burst with joy.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well...you could ride with us to the airport. If you want.”

“Sounds good,” Vixen said, reaching for her hand.

“And don’t worry, I won’t do anything naughty with other people around,” Courtney promised. “We can just...sit in the backseat and hold hands and gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes.”

“That was my whole plan,” Vixen giggled, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Courtney’s cheek.

***

Vixen had to admit that for once, she posted a picture with an understated, tasteful caption. It was just them on the red carpet, which said, “VMAs with my favorite writer.”

VIXEN: Classy caption there

COURTNEY: That’s not what I wanted to say

VIXEN: ?

COURTNEY: Guess ;)

VIXEN: You’re Too Much

COURTNEY: I’m the perfect amount, actually.

VIXEN: Cocky too, huh?

COURTNEY: It’s also possible that I’m delirious after performing and then taking a 10 hour flight.

VIXEN: I read that as “delicious”

COURTNEY: Oh yeah?

VIXEN: You wouldn’t have been wrong...

COURTNEY: So I’ve been told

COURTNEY: (and cocky)

COURTNEY: And I miss you already

VIXEN: <3

COURTNEY: <3 <3 <3

***

As much as Courtney loved performing, there were times when she had to admit how lonely tour life could be. First of all, there wasn’t a single person with her that wasn’t on payroll. And while she liked them all, there was something a little depressing about being surrounded 24/7 by people that were paid to be around you and cater to your whims and humor every single thing you said.

She did a reasonably okay job of keeping in touch with her friends, but with the time differences, it was hard to get on the same page. Except for Vixen, who always made sure she was available at some point in the evening. They’d often just text back and forth, but more and more, Courtney’d been convincing Vixen to FaceTime. And seeing her smile, looking into her eyes, hearing her laugh, just made everything infinitely better.

At first, when she was in Europe, it was late at night, well after Courtney’s show had wrapped for the evening, once she was safely tucked into bed in whatever hotel she was staying. Curled up with her phone or her computer, laughing until her sides hurt at Vixen’s impressions of her grandmother or her crazy cousins. Or, once the tour moved to Asia and Australia, it was in the morning, after she’d finished meditating and before she headed out to meet her trainer. She’d sit on a terrace or in the hotel room with a cup of tea while Vixen sipped an evening glass of wine, head resting on her hands as she listened to Vixen talk about everything from university politics to her chaotic childhood.

Either way, it quickly became her favorite part of the day. It was strange. They’d only met in person three times, but Courtney soon felt like Vixen knew her better than anyone ever had. And as for Vixen—she was admittedly a little guarded most of the time, but Courtney found her to be wonderfully candid. She told stories about her chaotic childhood and her troubled teens. How confused she’d been during most of her college years. Courtney knew all about her large extended family; she was sure she’d be able to recognize them all on sight, based on Vixen’s vivid descriptions and hilarious impersonations.

And then sometimes, when Courtney caught her in a certain mood, or maybe after a second glass of wine, the conversations would turn into something else entirely. Whispered confessions in the dark, voices hoarse, faces flushed with nervous excitement. It never went too far, but it was usually enough to get Courtney good and worked up, close enough that a few seconds with a vibrator after they hung up was enough to finish her off. It was enough that Courtney had lost any desire to be with anyone else, even when she ached with need. She would take a 2D image of Vixen on her screen over a real-life random hookup any day.

Of course, as good as it was, there was always a degree of uncertainty. There were conversations that they probably should be having...what exactly is their relationship, where is it going, are they exclusive? But it had been so long since Courtney liked anyone as much as Vixen, and she had a vague fear that bringing that up too soon would scare her off, so for now, she just dealt with the uncertainty as best she could. After all, the flip side of uncertainly was potential, and that was pretty exciting.

By the time October rolled around, Courtney longed to be home in her own bed, surrounded by her own things. Just the basic familiar comforts of home. When it was time to fly back to the states, she had to stop in New York for some press and a few meetings, and then finally, she was free to return to LA. But at the last minute, on a whim, she decided to make another stop first.  

***

Vixen had been putting the October symposium together for months. She’d reached out far and wide, planning lectures, panels, open forums, and agendas for the break-out groups over two days. There were a million moving parts, and million things on Vixen’s checklist, a million question marks and potential disasters.

But in all of the planning, never in Vixen’s mind did she imagine a scenario where she’d walk out to the podium on Saturday morning and see Courtney fucking Act sitting in the front row. With a pair of reading glasses and a goddamn notebook, rainbow streaks tucked into a librarian-style bun.

Fortunately, after a momentary stumble that she hoped no one besides her noticed, she was able to recover and get on with the agenda. During the first break, she beelined straight for Courtney, whose face lit up as she approached. Courtney jumped from her seat, throwing her arms around Vixen’s shoulders and pulling her in for a tight embrace.

“Hi...this is incredible!”

“I’m glad you...think...sorry, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane to LA right now?”

“LA can wait,” Courtney said, pulling back to look into her eyes. “And I wanted to surprise you. Was that a terrible idea?”

“No, just...unexpected,” Vixen replied with a grin. “You threw me off a little bit.”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you,” Courtney said, chagrined. “I wasn’t actually sure I’d make it in time, my flight from New York was late, and-”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are?” Courtney squeezed Vixen’s hands, and Vixen nodded, kissing her softly on the cheek.

“Yeah. But now I have to go back and take care of things, so-”

“Of course! I’ll be invisible, I promise. I just really wanted to hear your lecture,” she said, eyes shining.

“I hope you’re not bored,” Vixen chuckled softly, shaking her head. She still couldn’t quite believe that Courtney would be there listening the whole time. But fortunately, there was no time to stress about it, so she just walked back to the stage to keep the program going.

“Impossible!” Courtney called after her, settling back into her seat.

***

“Go back. Play that part again,” Vixen insisted, tossing Courtney a wicked smirk.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’s a really important cinematic moment.”

Courtney giggled, lifting the remote.

Vixen sighed happily, leaning against her shoulder. After Courtney had surprised her at the symposium earlier, they’d discussed a handful of date night possibilities before realizing that all they really wanted was just to curl up in front of a movie in Courtney’s hotel room, basking in the simple pleasure of finally being in the same room with no time pressure, no obligations, nobody standing by to interrupt. So they’d made a quick stop at Vixen’s apartment for a few essentials, and then headed straight to the hotel, getting into comfy clothes and cuddling up in front of the TV.

Partly as a joke, Vixen had selected Glimmer for them to watch, and she was currently making Courtney replay the shot where “Princess Lucie” first took off her helmet. It was an absolute cliché: blonde waves spilling over her shoulders in slow motion in the golden sunset, romantic music soaring on the soundtrack.

“Yeahhh, that’s the stuff,” Vixen leered at the screen as real-life Courtney laughed beside her. “Again!”

“I’ll do you one better,” Courtney giggled, swinging a leg over her to straddle her on the bed. “How about a live show?”

“I’m not gonna say no to that,” Vixen told her, grinning, settling back against the pillows.

Courtney gathered up her hair before slowly releasing it, shaking it out, accompanied by lashes fluttering and lip biting.

Vixen watched the whole over-the-top performance before sighing and shaking her head sadly.

“Real life just never lives up to the movies, does it?”

“Hey!” Courtney scoffed, feigning offense, then leaned forward to brush her lips against Vixen’s temple, murmuring into her ear. “You sure about that?”

“Ummm…I could probably be persuaded to hear a counterpoint...” Vixen trailed her fingers up Courtney’s thighs, smiling up at her. Feeling almost shy as Courtney toyed with the neckline of her top.

Vixen’s heart fluttered wildly as Courtney pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She sighed into it, savoring the moment as Courtney cradled her face.

“It feels like it’s been forever,” Vixen murmured, warmth spreading through her chest all the way down to her toes, to the tips of her fingers. She tilted her head slightly to give Courtney easier access to her neck, where she began to layer soft kisses.

“Next time won’t be so long,” Courtney whispered into her skin. “I promise.”

“Good…”

A soft whimper left Vixen’s lips as Courtney’s kisses turned from gentle and teasing to deep and hot, tongue trailing across her collarbone, moving to the other side of her neck, sucking on her pulse point. Her fingers dug into Courtney’s hips, arching up against her.

The movie still played in the background, neither of them noticing that Princess Lucie had begun to sing one of her solos until the music swelled for the chorus, startling them both.

“THE LIGHT SHIIIIIIIIINES WITHIN MY HEAAAAAAAAAAART!”

“Omigod,” Courtney breathed, breaking away from Vixen and turning around to switch off the TV, telling her Princess alter ego to, “Shut up!”

Vixen giggled, trying to catch her breath as Courtney turned back to her, face immediately softening into a dreamy expression as she gazed down at her, making her feel improbably special. She placed her wrists gently on Vixen’s shoulders, a smile tugging at her mouth.

“What?” Vixen asked.

“I just can’t believe we’re finally together again.”

“You can’t believe? I’m in bed with a bona fide princess.”

“I’m not a real princess,” Courtney reminded her.

“Could’ve fooled me.”  

Courtney giggled, hips rolling just enough to make her whimper.  

“How about tonight, you’re the princess?” Courtney murmured, and Vixen felt that dizzying thrill again, the one that she barely ever allowed herself to indulge in. At least, not outside the safe space of her own secret dreams.

She tried to come up with an answer, but her mind seemed to go blank, and so Courtney took her face into her hands, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones, whisper-soft.

“What do you say, princess?”

Vixen couldn’t hold back anymore, cheeks blazing hot as she bit back an embarrassing noise. Courtney sat up, looking both a little surprised and incredibly pleased by her enthusiasm.

“You know...have something that I think...you might like...” Courtney began, biting her lip.

“You have a lot of things I like,” Vixen stated hoarsely.  

Courtney’s smile deepened. She pressed a kiss to Vixen’s temple and then rolled away, digging through a suitcase on the floor. Finally, she produced what she was looking for: a pink canvas bag with a zipper down the side. She placed it between them on the bed, encouraging Vixen to look.

“Anything in there...interesting to you?”

Vixen unzipped the bag curiously, then after a glance inside, looked back up at Courtney, scandalized, stomach twisting with excitement.

“No?” Courtney asked.

“No. I mean, yeah,” Vixen said. “I’m...I think it could be fun. I just—”

“It doesn’t have to be today,” Courtney said, reaching for her hand.

“What if I wanted it to be today?” Vixen asked, tilting her head coyly.

“Then I’d say, your wish is my command.” Courtney kissed her softly. “Princess.”

Vixen felt her heart pick up speed as she melted against the kiss, excitement building inside her. Before she lost herself completely, she pulled away, trying to catch her breath.

“I’m gonna go get ready.”

“Okay.” Courtney placed a kiss to the inside of her wrist before releasing her.