#(two-time if you count the time he at twelve years old picked a fight with Itachi and thought he'd win for some reason)

[coockie8]

Sorry just remembered like over ten years ago my sister tried to play Oppression Olympics™ between Sasuke and Neji, claiming Sasuke's had a harder life and like yeah his entire family was killed and his brother made him watch it and that sucks.

Neji's family literally owns him.

Look I don't want to compare them or anything, and having to watch your family die is, objectively awful, but being actively kept as a slave by your own family is also an objectively awful thing lol

[thewulf]

Cross || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times you captured Jake Seresin’s attention and the one time he did something about it.

A/N: A request from a friend. Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,500+

TW: Abuse (Physical)

One

From an early age you learned how to sit down, shut up and do what you were told. Growing up on the south side of Chicago didn’t bode well for the greatest childhood. Your parents, if you could even call them that, gave you a shelter and sometimes some food but other than that? You were on your own from a very early age with your older brothers. Who quite frankly didn’t give a shit about you either.

You wished and prayed that your parents would snap out of it and start taking care of their children, but they never did. You gave up praying on your eighth birthday when your mom picked the pills over her own babies. Classic drug addicts. You gave up trying to form a relationship on your tenth birthday when you had to call an ambulance because your dad was unresponsive. He lived, somehow.

Things often got violent in the household. You learned how to protect yourself, learning how to fight back against two methed out parents by the age of twelve. Realizing quickly you had to learn how to defend yourself or you’d likely end up dead. You did just that. You wished your parents were alcoholics like every other parent on the south side. But no, they had to be hard drug users. They were so terribly unpredictable. Sometimes they’d treat you like gold but the very next day you could be getting beat on, you just never knew. You had to be ready at all times. It was exhausting being in constant fight or flight mode.

On your eighteenth birthday you left without saying a word. You didn’t have a plan nor a cent to your name but you sure were scrappy. You’d found weird jobs across the country for a few years before landing in San Diego and meeting Penny Benjamin.

You liked to think Penny saved your life from spiraling even further than it had. She was desperate for a bartender, and you were desperate for a stable job. You ended up falling in love with the job and the area. Most days were great, but some days were awful. And today? Today was one of those awful days.

“Hey sweetie, how about another beer?” A lovely patron of the Hard Deck clinked his empty beer glass against the wood countertop eyeing you up and down. Disgusting. You’d gotten used to brazen men checking you out, but it never ceased to amaze you just how gross they could get. Especially with a little beer in their system.

Rolling your eyes, you simply ignored him deciding to focus your attention elsewhere. Not giving the creepy old man who couldn’t seem to stop eye fucking you any satisfaction. You greeted a younger couple happily chatting away with them trying to ignore the creep as best as you could.

“Baby, I’m talking to you.” He yelled from across the bar interrupting you from the conversation. Penny gave you a look asking if you could handle it. You could. You dealt with these gross drunks all the time. It still didn’t make it pleasant though.

Giving her a quick nod, you turned back to the couple.

You were so tempted to ring that damn bell, but it was more effort than it was worth tonight. See, it was a Friday night at the hard deck and a bunch of Top Gun pilots were back making it even busier than you were used to. You didn’t have time to think let alone serve this entire bar another round. So, you decided against it instead finishing up the order you were already working on.

Once you finished serving the couple you turned your attention back to the man knowing you’d have to confront him eventually. You decided to serve everybody around him first making sure to pay him no attention.

“Baby is playing hard to get.”

Snapping your eyes up at him you swore your nostrils were flaring, “Don’t you fucking baby me.” You were tired. So damn tired of men thinking they could speak to you like you were nothing. Like your only purpose on this god forsaken planet is to serve them beer and look pretty.

“Feisty little one.” He winked as he slid his empty glass in front of you.

“Get the fuck out of this bar.” You stared at him with icy eyes. Any friendliness in your tone completely gone.

You noticed him pause at your words. Taking a second to see if you were being serious. It didn’t work though, he continued to press on, “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a mouth like that.” He slurred his words this time.

“Get the fuck out. Now.” Nearly growling you turned away. You were far too busy to be dealing with this shit right now. Another bartender called off and it was just you and Penny trying to serve hundreds of impatient people.

You didn’t make it too far feeling a cold hand wrap around your wrist.

Fuck it. He started it.

Turning around quickly you made a fist out of your hand like it was second nature. Not putting much thought into it you used all your might as your hand collided with his right eye. He dropped to the floor almost instantly with a thud sending the bar into an almost eerie silence.

“Fuck.” You groaned shaking your wrist out. You had forgotten just how bad it hurt to make direct contact like that. Penny flew over to you making sure you were okay.

It suddenly hit you how silent the bar had gotten after you threw that nasty punch. Only hearing a few whistles from the aviators over in the corner who were all eagerly watching in anticipation. Looking up at them you saw them all nodding and smiling. Simply thrilled this had happened while they were there.

“You okay?” Penny asked as she wrapped some ice in a towel for you.

“Perfectly fine.” You smiled graciously accepting the ice. Your knuckles were already turning purple from the impact.

She leaned over the bar to assess the damage you had inflicted, “Damn girl. You knocked him out cold.” Penny gave you a wide eyed expression as she turned back to you.

Smiling awkwardly at the customers who were still a little shocked you decked someone right in the face, you mimicked Penny leaning over the bar taking a peek. Nodding to yourself you were quite proud of that hit. Not that you necessarily condoned violence but sometimes it was necessary, like right now.

Penny rang the bell trying to liven the crowd back up and trying to signal for the young pilots to come over, “Seresin! Fitch! Throw him out will you?” She yelled to the two closest aviators who couldn’t seem to get enough of what was going on.

“Yes ma’am.” The pretty blond pilot answered her grinning from ear to ear. He looked like he loved this shit. You’d never seen him before. You were sure you would’ve remembered that face. That smile.

“Thank you.” Penny smiled at him before turning back to you. Eyeing your hand, she looked at you curiously, “Can you still serve or …” She trailed off not sure what to say. It wasn’t that often that a young female bartender straight decked a customer and knocked him out cold. Of course, it was you who had to break the mold. It was always you doing something you shouldn’t have.

You weren’t a bad kid. Quite the opposite really. A bit naïve if anything, you simply wanted the best for everyone. But you also weren’t a pushover. You’d given him a few warnings and he was the one that touched you first. You felt every justification in knocking the old creep out.

You always seemed to end up in these situations though. Your trash life just seemed to follow you everywhere like a curse you couldn’t break.

Shaking your head you dropped the ice, “I’m good!”

“That was one hell of a punch.” The blond pilot spoke up drawing your eyes back towards his. Damn, he was pretty. He was even more handsome when he was a few feet from you.

“Thanks.” You laughed grabbing a glass to fill up with a draft, “Guess my dad was good for something.” Smiling brightly at him you attempted to crack a joke. It might’ve been a defense mechanism, but it was true. Your dad was a low life good for nothing fuck who would’ve sold you if he knew he could. He was far too dumb to pull anything like that off though.

His smile dropped slightly being a bit taken aback by your casual statement, “You otta teach our friend Bobby over there how to throw a punch.”

The other pilot laughed at the blonds remark as he began to pick up the unconscious man.

“I’m sure Bobby can throw a punch just fine.” You halfway returned the smile. He was trouble and you could sniff that out a mile away. Growing up like you did gave you a sort of superpower to sniff out bullshit. Being able to read people like a book surely had its advantages.

“I beg to differ.” He threw you a wink before helping his friend out. Taking a breath, you were sure this was just the first of many encounters with the blond pilot. You weren’t sure if that excited you or made you want to quit on the spot.

Two

The next few days had slowed down quite a bit at the Hard Deck. You sure did love the money you made on Friday, especially after throwing that punch, but you were thankful it was slower. Finally, being able to catch your breath after the busy weekend shift.

You were distracted serving a few customers at the bar or you would’ve seen the blonde pilot enter with a few friends. You didn’t see his face perking up ever so slightly when he saw you behind the bar. He considered himself increasingly intrigued by you. He had surely never seen any woman handle herself like that. He simply loved it.

Of course, he offered to get the first round. He wanted to talk to you, even for a moment. Payback and Coyote teased him before he walked over to you. The two of them noticed how he kept bringing you up in conversation even though he knew nothing about you.

“I have a nickname for you.” A silky smooth southern voice from behind you spoke up. Turning around you bit your cheek to hide the stupid smile that wanted to grace your face. There he was… trouble.

“And that is?”

“Cross.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“You’ve got an amazing cross shot.” He grinned before continuing, “And I wouldn’t want to cross you.”

“The punch, really?” You grabbed him a few domestics from the fridge sliding them over after popping the tops.

He shrugged taking a slow sip from the glass, “What can I say? It was hot.”

You laughed shaking your head, “Noted…” You trailed off waiting for him to properly introduce himself.

“Hangman.”

“I’m not calling you Hangman. I’m Y/N.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a rag wiping down the counter next to him. Making sure to do anything to avoid eye contact with the pretty man.

“And why not? That’s a beautiful name, Y/N.”

“It’s weird.” You rebutted almost instantly ignoring his second comment. Terribly flirty this man was.

This time he let out a hearty laugh. He was enjoying himself all too much. The effortless back and forth between the two of you made him giddy. He could see how sharp you were, how witty you are.

“It’s not weird if I give you permission.”

You continued to clean, “I don’t need your permission. It’s still weird.”

He didn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, “Call me Jake then. I’m still calling you Cross though.”

You looked up to him now, “And if I don’t give you permission?”

“Like you said, I don’t need it.” He countered using your own words against you.

“Fair.” You narrowed your eyes in on him. He got you there, you couldn’t deny that one.

“So, where are you from doll?” You knew he was just being polite, no ill will towards the term of endearment. But you hated it.  Your childhood really truly traumatized you. When you were far too young you’d have men catcalling you on the streets calling you sugar, sweetie, honey, or baby. It made your skin crawl. You hated that simple terms of endearment were traumatizing to you. Those sweet nothings were taken from you. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Don’t call me that.” You harshly spoke back to him. Your eyes softened seeing his confused expression, “Please.” You added trying to soften the blow.

“I thought I didn’t need permission.” He smirked, testing your boundaries.

You bit your lip thinking hard about how you wanted to respond to him, “Please.” You smiled softly, opting to go the easiest route of begging him not to.

He nodded sharply understanding your near desperation in your ask. Taking another long sip of the beer he hesitated to leave even though his fellow aviators were so patiently waiting on their own.

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled before sauntering off back towards the pool table.

You spent your night relatively busy as the Hard Deck picked up. Sending glances Jake’s way, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself from looking at him. Maybe it was the way he presented himself so surely, but no man had ever treated you with the respect he had already shown.

The bar was literally in hell, yes, but here you were also intrigued with the pretty blond pilot.

Three

It had not been a good few days. Your piece of shit ex-boyfriend had shown up at your doorstep begging you to forgive him. You had called off the shitty relationship a month ago after you caught him cheating. Trash life, trash men.

You really did think he was different until you walked in on him hooking up with a neighbor.

Long story short he wouldn’t leave. The cops had to come. Once they left he had decorated your cheek with a nice little back slap which split your lip right open. He ended up leaving after telling you just how worthless he thought you were.

 You sat there crying to yourself wondering why you couldn’t get out of this shitty spiral that your life always seemed to be in. You’d escaped Chicago just to end up in the same situation that you’d grown accustomed to. Being abused by the people that should love you.

You told Penny the truth, not wanting to lie to her. Sure, she was your boss, but she was also one of your better friends here. The two of you got along like peas in a pod and you sure did suffer through enough long nights at the bar together.

She let you take the night off, understanding you would likely not be up for it.

However, she did invite you down to the beach the next day. She mentioned that shirtless pilots running around playing football might cheer you up. Not being one to pass up on such an opportunity you sped on down to the beach sitting next to Penny just outside the Hard Deck.

“Damn. You were right Penny.” You whistled lowly admiring the scene before you, “This really does help.”

She was smiling until she saw your lip, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle. Just caught me by surprise is all.”

She was frowning now, “Did he do that before?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Shrugging you smiled as you found Jake in the swarm of men. Damn, he looked even better shirtless. That just wasn’t fair.

“I’m used to it Penny. Can’t seem to escape it.” You laughed softly accepting your fate. It’s all you really could do. Laugh. What else could you do?

She shook her head, “Don’t say that Y/N. Nobody deserves that.”

“Sure.” You smiled towards her trying to comfort her more than yourself. She looked so worried for you.

She broke the eye contact the two of you were holding first, “Looks like you’ve got a visitor. I need to talk to Pete anyway.” She laughed after seeing your shocked expression. She was just up and leaving you to deal with the handsome stranger?

He immediately noticed your bruised cheek and busted lip. Making sure to brush the frown away quickly he plopped down next to you. Closer than you would’ve, not that you were complaining.

“Another fight there Cross?” Jake grinned hoping to extract something from the closed book that you were.

Huffing to yourself you looked up to him, “Something like that.” You kept it vague as you turned your attention to the waves rolling before you. That’s what you loved about this place. You lived mere minutes from the beach.

He nudged you with his shoulder, “Should I see the other guy?”

Blinking rapidly, you kept your attention away from him suddenly feeling awfully vulnerable as he kept his attention trained on you, “Yeah.” You whispered

“You okay?” He mimicked your whisper. Almost afraid he might spook you if he spoke too loudly.

That question knocked you back into reality, “I’m perfectly fine Jake.” You flashed him your most genuine smile careful not to bust open your lip again. You had finally gotten it to stop bleeding.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You returned his question with one of your own.

“You seem a little spacey and you have a split lip. Just checking that’s all.” Throwing his hands up in defense he refused to look away. He kept his eyes trained on your face.

You were quickly becoming an enigma to him. The two of you seemed to talk frequently but he didn’t know a damn thing about you. He knew your first name and that you bartended at the Hard Deck. That’s all he could seem to get out of you.

You nodded along noticing how defensive you had become, “Volleyball accident. Took a hit right to the chin.” Lying as casually as you could you found the courage to look back over to him.

He clearly didn’t believe you eyeing you curiously, “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. So be it I guess.”

You frowned knowing he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. He was just too confrontational, “Well, it’s the story so.”

“Bullshit.” He countered clearly ready to get into whatever this situation was.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your body away from him slightly. He was annoying. You really didn’t want anybody digging into your life. It was already embarrassing enough to come from where you did. Having to explain that to Jake sounded downright mortifying.

“Does it matter?” You replied refusing to look at him.

He scoffed this time not sure how you weren’t understanding him, “Yes it matters Y/N. Of course, it matters.”

“I slipped in the shower.” You attempted to lie again.

“Why are you lying?” He too seemed to have a mega bullshit detector just like you.

You shrugged, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

He frowned seeing you look so utterly defeated, “Are you at least safe?”

“I think so.”

His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head now. He couldn’t understand you. How you so utterly nonchalant about whatever situation you were in he couldn’t grasp, “You think?”

Nodding your head you turned back to him, “I should be fine. I can handle him.”

“Him?” He jumped from his seat standing in front of placing his hands gently on your shoulders. You really hadn’t meant to let that one slip, but it was far too late to try and backtrack now.

Sighing you looked up to him, “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m safe. I can handle it.”

Narrowing his eyes in on you it didn’t look like he quite believed you. But what could he do? He didn’t know you and you sure weren’t planning on sharing, “Are you sure.”

You nodded, “Quite.”

He dropped his hands from your shoulders, “Alright. I should get back?” He pointed to the group almost questioning if he should go or not.

You smiled, “Sure. I’ll see you around Jake.”

“You sure will.” He winked before jogging off back to the group of aviators not able to shake the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

Four

You were in fact able to handle him the second time around. It did come at a cost though. A pretty black eye, a bruised rib and a potentially sprained wrist didn’t stop you from putting him in his place.

Completely forgetting to lock the deadbolt he was able to get in with a copy of your housekey.

The sheer rage your ex had laced in his eyes eerily reminded you of your parents when they were cracked out of their minds. Shuddering at the thought you were able to get the upper hand. You didn’t think he’d be so brazen but then again you couldn’t tell if he was high out of his mind or not.’

Of course, you realized he was a shitty dude at the end of the relationship, but this was completely out of the ordinary from him. He hadn’t laid a hand on you prior to smacking you across the face. But now? The look of sheer rage horrified you, looking like he wanted to seriously hurt you.

Being terribly confused by the whole situation didn’t help either. You just couldn’t understand why he wanted to hurt you. Why he couldn’t have just left the relationship and moved on? He was the one that cheated anyway. It’s not the two of you were terribly in love either. You were only together for a few months. You simply just chalked it up to having the world’s worst luck.

After forcing him out by hitting him with a frying pan a few times you ended up calling the cops, unsure of what to do. They weren’t much help, telling you to find a different place to stay and they’d start a document for a restraining order. It was all bullshit, and you knew it. It wasn’t worth the cost to follow through.

Deciding to call Penny instead of risking staying in the house she let you come sleep on the couch at her place. She let the small gasp come out when she saw your state. You groaned realizing just how bad you probably looked. But true to your words you didn’t really feel that bad. You were used to being roughed up.

She got you some ice for your eye and wrist letting you pick out a movie as she did so. You settled on Step Brothers hoping to take your mind off of everything.

“Thanks Penny.” You yawned beginning to feel exhaustion creep up over you.

“Anytime kid. Get some sleep kid.” She patted your head before departing to her room upstairs. You snuggled in hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep.

Penny let you stay there that day as you searched for new locks, knowing you couldn’t go back until those were changed. She also let you skip your shift that night much to Jake’s dissatisfaction. He was really looking forward to seeing you, you always worked on Thursday’s.

Penny may have let it slip that you were staying at her place just up the road and that you were ‘sick’ after Jake complained that you weren’t there.

Immediately understanding what she was putting down Jake grabbed his keys and walked out of the bar. Shooting a text to his friends letting them know he’d be right back. But he needed to see you, make sure that you were okay.

Softly knocking on Penny’s door, he anxiously waited for you to answer.

You took a peek out the window cursing when you saw Jake standing there. Your face looked even worse than yesterday but there wasn’t enough time to try and hide it.

Sighing you opted to just open the door.

“Jesus Christ Y/N.” Jake frowned examining your black eye and bruised nose.

You smiled softly, “You should see the other guy.”

He grumbled not taking his eyes off your broken face, “Not really a time for jokes Y/N.”

“It’s always time for joking Jake.” You countered knowing it’d drive him mad. Something you enjoyed doing all too much as of late. The simple back and forth the two of you had grown accustomed to gave you so much joy throughout your stay in San Diego.

“Are you okay?” He pushed you back out of the doorway with his own body, inviting himself right on in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked after moving out of his way, not protesting in the slightest.

“I’m checking in.” He gave you the most obvious look, as if it was clear what he was doing here, “Penny told me what happened.”

“That little snake.”

“Well to be fair she just said you were sick. I kind of just assumed after seeing you a few days ago.” He frowned again grabbing some more ice from the freezer for you, “You need to keep ice on it.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded taking the ice pack from him gingerly knowing he was entirely right.

“What? No witty remark? No comeback?”

You giggled for the first time in a while. Feeling lighter and freer with the man standing in front of you. Having an odd sense of trust in him, “No. I don’t argue everything Jake.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He smiled before guiding you to the couch wanting you to sit down.

Obliging you took a seat at one end, “Pot calling the kettle black.”

He laughed taking a seat at the opposite end, giving you some needed space, “But seriously, are you alright.”

You nodded, “I’m fine. Just need to change my locks and then I’m good.”

“You said that last time.” He deadpanned.

“I was being serious earlier. He took a cast iron pan to the forehead, multiple times. I think he’ll think twice.” You smiled remembering your victory over the weak man.

He looked you over while he nodded, somewhat impressed, “Can’t be too careful though.” He studied you yet again not being able to hide his upset expression. He really couldn’t believe that somebody would ever dare lay a hand on you let alone leave such a mark on your eye. He might’ve only known you for a brief time, but he felt protective over you. So oddly protective.

You shrugged, “I’ll sleep with my pan at night.”

He laughed taking you in. He was fully enamored with you now. How you could make such light out of the seriousness of the situation and manage to calm him down was something magical. Truly unlike anyone he’d ever met, “That’s a start. I’ll tell you what. I have the day off tomorrow, why don’t I help you change those locks then?”

You smiled nodding at him, “I’ll happily take some help.”

“Great.” He smiled, “10 AM work?”

You nodded feeling a burst of excitement at the prospect of Jake helping you out, “Works great.”

“Perfect, see you then. Gotta get back to the bar though, just wanted to check in. Have to go beat Rooster’s ass in a round of darks”

Nodding you didn’t stop the smile that come over you, “See you tomorrow Jake.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night.”

Five

Another busy night at the Hard Deck had you focusing on everything but watching the front door. After changing your locks your ex didn’t attempt anything, thankfully. You thought he had gotten the hint. Being terribly nervous about the whole situation had you on edge, head on a swivel at all times.

Your heart dropped when you heard that voice from behind you, sitting at the bar as if nothing had happened between the two of you, “Baby, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Gulping you refused to turn around instead searching for Penny. But just as you looked up you saw her run off to the back. Sighing you opted to simply keep serving the guests on the opposite side of the bar instead of confronting him. You had the advantage of the bar being particularly busy this night.

“Y/N.” You heard your name called sharply from behind you.

“I’m busy.” You shouted still refusing to turn around moving on to the next customer.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer though. He simply just moved around the bar, dodging, and weaving in between everyone making sure he was in your line of sight. When you saw what he was doing you simply turned around to serve the other side of the bar. Simply not in the mood to indulge in whatever fantasy this dude has. You were prepared to avoid as long as needed.

“Y/N.” There it was again. That damn voice. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why he was not taking the hint.

“I said, I’m busy.” You snapped back focusing on washing the racks of dirty beer glasses in front of you

“You’re not getting rid of me like this, Y/N. We need to talk about this!”

Rolling your eyes, you kept moving down the bar, strategically avoiding him. The gull on the piece of shit was baffling to you. He was the one that cheated on you. You were pretty damn sure that wasn’t the first time either.

What you also didn’t notice was how Jake was observing you every now and then. Often doing so, he wanted to make sure that you were okay. He caught flack from his fellow aviators for treating you so differently, they didn’t have a clue though. Not a damn clue.

He noticed your relaxed and easy going attitude change drastically throughout the night. You were usually so cheery and happy to talk to people. Tonight, you looked agitated and a little stressed out. For the life of him Jake couldn’t pinpoint what was causing you to feel so distressed.

He didn’t want to bother you when you were so busy, so he hung back for a while. As soon as it began to die down though he found a barstool and waited patiently until you noticed him.

The utter relief you felt when you spotted Jake sitting there was unlike any other. Your ex was still at it getting rather agitated at you dodging him for the last two hours.  Relaxing just a little when you spotted him you quickly walked over to where he was sitting, “Jake. What can I get for you?”

“The usual.” He grinned leaning towards you.

“Sure thing.” You returned his smile with a half-hearted one of your own.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you returned with his beer.

Nodding your head you leaned into the counter, “You ask that a lot.”

“You seem to get yourself into very precarious situations.”

Laughing at his comment you realized he didn’t know the half of it. He couldn’t understand because you refused to tell him, “I do, don’t I?”

“Yes ma’am. Now answer the question.” His eyes darkened over slightly letting you know he wasn’t playing around.

You shrugged, “I have a small issue.”

Eyebrows raised he was a little taken aback you were actually going to tell him something. Not that he didn’t enjoy the banter between the two of you, but this was different, more serious, “And what’s that?”

“Don’t look. But my ex is sitting on the opposite side of the bar right now. He’s been following me around all night.” Sighing you leaned in even closer, “I’m so sorry. He’s probably going to confront you now that I’ve been talking to you for more than a minute.”

Jake returned your shrug almost getting a kick out of it, “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you right now. Which one is he?”

Smiling softly at his bluntness you continued, “Red hoodie almost right behind me.”

The moment he spotted him Jake’s eyes darkened a few shades. His cheery smile with the dimples was immediately replaced with a straight line running across his face. If you didn’t know any better of him that look would have absolutely petrified you.

“Just keep your eyes on me Y/N.” Jake spoke quietly as he watched your ex eye you as you served customers.

Nodding softly, you kept your eyes trained near Jake not daring to serve that side of the bar. Another bartender noticed and kept that side locked down, “Thanks Jake.”

“Nothing to thank me for Y/N.” He gave you a serious look to let you know he wasn’t kidding. Jake could never accept a thank you for doing what he was raised to do, protect women. You couldn’t grow up in Texas and not think the world of all women. It always baffled Jake that other men didn’t think the same. That other men could even think of harming a woman.

Jake eventually caught the eye of your ex. He threw in a smirk for good measure. Jake made sure to look back to you to piss him off. And it worked. Almost instantly Jake noticed his red hoodie begin to walk around the bar. He knew this was going to be too good now.

“You fucking my girl?”

Jake grinned, loving every second of this, “Don’t think she’s your girl anymore.”

“Yes she is.” His nostrils flared in an attempt to intimidate Jake, you knew that wasn’t going to happen though.

Shaking his head casually Jake stood from his bar stool finally getting a good look at him. You knew Jake was taller than him, but you didn’t realize just how much. Taking a defensive stance, he eyed the man up and down cracking a smile when he met his eyes again, “Not according to Y/N, you’re not.”

“And you believe the little bitch?” He puffed his chest out not backing down from Jake. You had to hand it to the stupid man, he sure didn’t know when to call it quits.

Jake slowly shook his head, “I reckon you apologize to her.”

He laughed, a full on belly laugh. Getting a kick out of that one. You couldn’t rip your eyes from the scene unfolding before you, neither could the other aviators who had grown quiet observing the interaction between the two men. It was still busy enough that nobody paid them any mind, yet.

“For what?”

Jake didn’t break his stare down on the coward, “You know what for.”

He smirked somehow feeling like he had the upper hand in this argument, “I’m just putting my girl back in her place. Mind your own damn business.”

Realizing this was likely going to escalate you waved down Penny to try and figure out what to do. She waved you off letting you know that it was okay. She didn’t mind a fight in her bar.

“No, see I have a problem with that. Where I’m from a man never lays a hand on a woman.” Jake spoke as coolly as you’ve ever seen him. You just knew you were about to witness some shit go down.

He laughed, “And where I’m from she’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Eyes widening at that you actually felt fear from the man for the first time. Had he manipulated you that bad in the relationship that you couldn’t see what a true monster he was? Sure, it was only a few months but at one point you genuinely liked the guy. Now he was sitting here threating to hurt you even further.

Jake saw your fear in his peripherals. He took a step back towards you letting you know that he’s got you covered. He wouldn’t let this so called man hurt you again.

“Touch her again and you’ll understand just how nice we treat men like you.”

“I will do whatever the fuck I want to do to her. She’s mine.”

Your skin was crawling now, breaking out into chills all throughout your body. You definitely had to have missed some big red flags in the relationship.

The other aviators noticed the altercation wasn’t dying down but firing up. You noticed the one that helped him drag the unconscious man out of the bar last week was slowly making his way over to Jake.

“That’s just not going to happen.”

He then placed his pointer finger on Jakes chest, “Like I said. You don’t tell me what the fuck I can do.”

“You have 2 seconds to remove your hand.” He glared coldly.

“One.” Payback spoke up stepping closer to the scene crossing his arms over his chest. Having Jake’s back, “Two.”

Your stupid ex didn’t have a clue apparently because he smugly stood there. How he could be so cocky was beyond you, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jake spoke. Catching a faint grin, he cocked his head to the side giving him one last chance to step back.

“What are you going to do?”

Jake sighed, “This.”

With his left hand he quickly grabbed his finger bending it back until he head the snap. Your ex wailed in pain at the broken finger. That wasn’t enough for Jake though. He knew he needed to really drive this lesson home for him.

So, as he was crying in pain Jake took his right arm and punched him right under the chin sending him to the floor instantly.

For the second time in a few days another patron was knocked unconscious. Penny sighed while shaking her head opting not to worry about it. Letting the two aviators handle it.

Payback snickered, “You did warn him.”

Jake nodded, “I did. Many times.”

“Damn.” You grinned, “That was one hell of a punch.”

Jake spun on his heels smiling from ear to ear, “I took notes from the best.”

He studied you again noticing just how much more relaxed your demeanor had become when he wasn’t a direct threat anymore, “Let me see your phone.” He demanded more than asked as he walked back closer to the bar.

“What for?” You asked while handing it to him.

“If that motherfucker even looks at you weird again, you call me. Okay?” He quickly added his name to your contacts before handing it back to you.

“Okay. Thank you Jake. Really, thank you.” You leaned over the counter taking it back from him. Pausing when you realized just how close your faces were together.

“Anytime. And if you just want to talk or hang out you can call me too.”

“Really?” Your smile grew at his statement.

Nodding his head he scanned your face again, “Please do. I’m looking forward to it.” He winked before pulling back away from you.

You watched, a little speechless, as the two aviators dragged your good for nothing ex out of the bar and hopefully far away from your life.

[venmondiese]

New Year's Traditions.

In New Year, you have your traditions in order to assure a good year. You eat 12 grapes, and then watch the fireworks with your loved ones. Aemond might start his own traditions, in his own way.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, AFAB reader, P in V, exhibisionsm, praising kink, slight breeding kink, soft sex. ✧Word Count: 4008 ✧Author's note: hehe my first tumblr fanfic post lol, I KNOW that new year passed, but this idea came to me at 2 am after seeing the fireworks. enjoy!! ✧AO3 link: here

Aemond and you have shared many moments together. Birthdays, anniversaries, and one of your favourites was new year

It was a silly reason, to celebrate another day marked as the beginning of a new year, yet you liked how it meant a simple thing; starting a new year of your life with Aemond. And you liked that.

As Aemond hated going to his family’s mansion for these holidays, you remained in your apartment, cosy as ever and only you two. You, Aemond and Vhagar, is an old grumpy lady cat, that he adored more than everything, more than even you, you suspect sometimes. 

And you didn’t even do such a produced food this year, you ate some pretty good lasagna, with a second dish with shrimps and salad. It was nice, and it certainly was more like a fancy dinner between you two. Aemond loved to spoil you in any way he could, so every whim or idea you could have, he would make it reality. 

“Eating grapes is so stupid” Aemond says, as you pick out the grapes to leave it on a grape carefully.

“Stupid or not, I like grapes”  You state leaving the plate on the table in front of the TV. “And you are gonna eat them as well” 

“I am not” Aemond states, crossing his arms as he smirks. He was so amused by seeing you like this, worried about stupid little traditions that made no sense.

“Yes, you are. You have to eat one each time that stupid clock that you bought chimes” you say pointing at the stupid clock that he brought one day, out of nowhere, saying it was a relic from old Valyria, with little dragons details on the wood, a stupid grandfather’s clock that stood at the side of the couch, that chimes in each hour. 

At first, at night it kept you awake, and the sound was so deep, you jumped each time. So did Vhagar, annoyed by being awakened. Even at sex, when Aemond was so deep, readjusting your guts in the best of ways, his cock hitting so wonderfully inside you, and his sweet praises whispered in your ear… and the stupid clock chimes. You hated it.

“If you miss it, and do not get to eat all twelve on time, you’d have a year of bad luck” You state, wrinkling your nose teasingly. “And you can make a wish for each month”

“If it makes you happy…” He sighs, sitting on the couch, where Vhagar jumps quickly on his lap to lay there, always before you could cuddle up to him. She did it on purpose, and Aemond allowed his two girls, as he called you both, to fight over him and his attention and affections. 

“Come on, I always have done it. It is a tradition.” You say with a thoughtful nod, as you sit beside him. “And see where it ended… I am your girlfriend, and we have been together for two years now… You don’t want this one to be the last?” You ask dramatically, and he rolls his eyes as he leans his head back, but he chuckles amused.

“I have until midnight to think” He mumbles amused, moving his hand to caress your thigh sweetly. 

He has chosen the dress. He didn’t believe in the new year being something special, but if it was an opportunity to make you dress nicely, he’d take it in a heartbeat. He had his own taste when it came to your clothes, Aemond liked seeing you in special, tight dresses that made you stand out wherever you went. To brag that you were his, and he always took the time to braid your hair in the style of his ancestors, and he was meticulous about it. 

“Then you have until midnight to leave the apartment” You say in your best teasing tone, smiling smugly to him and his lips almost make a little pout.

“Don’t be like that” He says rubbing your thigh as he moves his head closer to you, still leaning on the back of the couch “At least you could grant me a goodbye sex?” He tries to plead using his best puppy eyes for teasing.

“Absolutely no” You state laughing at your little back and forth. 

Aemond was often perceived as quiet and a bit cold, at least you did the first time you met him. Little words came naturally from him, his answers were brief words and that was it. But he grew warmer as you two grew together, and he enjoyed teasing a bit too much, it amused him to no end. He just loved your reactions, and how you fought back, it was all worth it. 

He loved how you had a enmity with Vhagar, seeing who could get more affection from him, and who would he choose, sometimes he chose the cat on purpose just to get a raise out of you. He’d laugh every time, and make it up to you by eating you out like he was a starved man.

“I’ll eat the damn grapes” He mumbles smirking. “I feel like Persephone being forced to eat the pomegranate..”

“I am no Hades” You say mumbling.

“Mhm. I suppose if I eat only six of them I could live freely in the spring and summer without you?” He teases, totally amused.

“Careful. Too many jokes of leaving can break a girl’s heart” 

“I’d never break your heart” He mumbles going to hiss your chin and then your lips, almost too lazily for him. He does it gently, showing him the little pecks of his affection in your chin and lips. Aemond looks at you tenderly, as he speaks softly. You can hear the sound of the programmated count back for new year on the tv, but you look at him kissing you. “I’ll eat the grapes for you”

“Like Adam ate the apple for Eve?” You inquire, amused.

“Yes. I’ll follow you out of Eden once they expel us” He murmurs smiling, still his face close to yours, you could feel his soft breath, calm and it smells like the wine you two tasted earlier. His hand returns to rub your thigh softly, as he looks at your face as if wanting to remember each part of it, his eye moving to your tender eyes to your lips, and he has a little smile curling on his lips, involuntary, you can notice. 

“I’ll fetch the champagne” You murmur, breaking his gaze, standing up and walking to the kitchen. He hums, and sits back correctly. 

Once you are back, with two glasses and the bottle, he is caressing Vhagar’s back and moving his hand to pat slightly her bottom, which she appreciates a lot. 

“Stop spanking that ugly cat” You grumble leaving the two cups on the table in front of him.

“Jealous?” 

“No” You say looking at the hour. 23:57. Close enough. “Are you sure that we could see the fireworks through the balcony?”

“Yes. Mother said the apartment had a nice view to the Blackwater bay just nicely. We’ll watch all the fireworks from the safety and comfort of our balcony.” 

You hum, nodding a bit. “I love fireworks” You say excitedly, and Vhagar meow. “Vhagar likes them too”

“Vhagar can barely see” Aemond says in a laugh, “I’d be surprised if actually makes it to the balcony”

“You are being mean” You giggle caressing Vhagar’s furr, which she appreciates but gives you a stern look. 

“Give me a kiss before the year ends” Aemond urges looking at the clock, 23:58.

“I thought you didn’t believed in-” 

“Shut up and kiss me” He repeats, and before you respond, he leans to kiss you, moving you closer to him. Vhagar grumbles and gets off his lap, but Aemond doesn’t even notice. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips against your just for a bit, just enjoying the simpleness of a kiss. He doesn’t press it further, and his lips are tender against yours, soft and gentle, when he wants. His hand presses on your chin, and he swallows the slow hum that you give him. He smiles in the kiss, knowing that it couldn’t take all minutes, even if he wanted. Because you had your silly traditions, and if they made you happy…

“See? With one minute left” He says smugly. 

“How considerate is my boyfriend” You say standing up to extend him his bowl of grapes. “One each-”

“Yes” He says, groaning as he stands up. He smiles as he sees you so excited for this silly thing, eating grapes for a new year. He looks at his bowl and he has an amused smile, the things he does for love… 

As the new year strikes, the awful clock sounds for a bit, and he leans to steal a kiss from you. “Happy new year” He mumbles. 

“Happy new year” You murmur as you kiss.

After the chimes. He does as requested, just for you. He eats the grapes as the clock strikes twelve times at midnight. He has to laugh at your commitment, as the sound of people in other apartments can be heard, and you look at him smiling as you eat the twelve grapes. He does it for you, no doubt in it, just to see you smile as he eats the grapes. What he wouldn’t do for you, after all?

“See?” You say now, grapes finished just in time, and he rolls his eyes amused as he grabs Vhagar from the ground to caress her chin. You go to hug him, and mumble “Happy new year”

Vhagar meows, and Aemond laughs “See? She says happy new year too” 

“That is so silly” You say with a giggle, and you lean to kiss him sweetly, more properly this time, as you hug him. He has one hand on the small of your back, while the other still holds Vhagar. 

A little family of three, you always say, proud of being with him. He was always equally proud of you, always pampering you with love and gifts, no matter how tired he could be each day, he always came to be with you and be the doting boyfriend he always is.

“Now, shall we see the fireworks you were so eager for, hm?” He asks, smirking as your faces are close. “My sweet girl” He says softly, his adoring gaze looking at her.

You smile, and your cheeks blush a bit. He never manages to miss the chance to make you all flustered for him.

“Yeah, let’s go” You say, giving him a sweet peck on the lips, as he leaves Vhagar on the couch. 

You slide the door open for the balcony, and you can hear the loud cheers from people around, you have a nice view to Blackwater Bay, a bit far enough to see the fireworks from a nice view, and everything is already dark so the main focus was the fireworks.

Aemond lays on the balcony by your side, looking at the ground for a bit, and smirking. “I think they are about to start, do you have one of your silly traditions for fireworks too?”

“Oh, fuck off” You say pushing him a bit, and he laughs.

“It’s chilly” He comments a bit, and looks over at you in your dress “I’ll bring our jackets” He says going back to the apartment, and you remain there, looking at how the people in the streets were also expecting the pyrotechnic show. 

Aemond was right, it was a bit cold. But again, he likes to dress you up in pretty dresses. He often jokes how you are his ‘perfect doll’ and how he loves to show you off in the best makeup, dresses and hairstyles. He was just proud of it, that you allowed him to. 

“Aemond, it is starting!” You say loudly so he can hurry up, since he always takes too long for everything. 

The first fireworks start, the red explosion illuminates the darkness of the city, and you look in amazement, as a more yellow one follows. People cheer, also excited for the colours, and you hear Aemond closing the sliding door of the balcony.

“Here” He says, extending the jacket to you as he pushes Vhagar inside of the apartment. 

You thank him as you quickly put on the jacket, now looking at the purple ones exploding in a soft motion. 

“Don’t you think it is pretty?” You say to Aemond “The purple ones are better, but they don’t illuminate as good as the– Oh” 

Aemond passes his arms over your waist, hugging you from behind, and his chin is quickly pressed against your left shoulder as he snuggles into you.

“Very pretty” He murmurs.

“I mean the view” You say embarrassed. 

“Not as pretty as you” He adds smiling. 

He leans to kiss your lips, and you chuckle in his lips, as you hear more explosions from the fireworks go off, and you just know what comes next. Aemond wasn’t really subtle when he wanted you; when he wanted to devour you wholly, and now it wasn’t the exception. He did it on purpose, so you always know how much you entice him.

“Aemond, the fireworks..” You whine as he keeps insisting on kissing you. “It is only one time a year-”

“I know” He says, resigning and leaving you alone, as you leave a small kiss on his cheek as a thank you. 

The light blue explosions were quite nice, and combined with the purple ones did a pretty sight. Some minutes pass as you feel Aemond starting to kiss you neck again, slowly, but with more intention now, he wanted you and he was letting you know.

“Love-” You get interrupted by him.

“Watch your fireworks” He instructs you, moving his hands to your thighs, and he is quick to move them up as he speaks slowly to you. He moves his body a bit back, to watch yours as he does whatever he wants with you. “I’ll do my thing here…”

“We can surely do it once the show is over”

“I am afraid I cannot bear any longer. You eat grapes to celebrate a new turn in the sun, and I might start a new tradition for the new year.” He tells you, and moves your head to watch the fireworks. 

He moves his hands up, so your dress is all the way up, and accumulating in your waist, as he hums in delight. He moves your jacket to rest in your waist, anytime it could fall again. It was quick, but Aemond wanted you like he never did before.

“Anyone could see us” You say, the red firework exploding and you see the people in the street, below and so unaware of this. 

“Then let them see my pretty girl celebrating a new year” He murmurs, not caring about that. “Mmm… Red underwear. Is that another sweet tradition of yours? I think that one I might like” He teases kissing your shoulder as he pulls your underwear off. 

You feel aroused, from his sweet words and slightly more because of the embarrassment of this. Being fucked in your balcony, as the fireworks exploded in front of you, and the people around celebrated another year. As always, Aemond had to do everything in his own way, celebrating in his own way.

Hearing him undo his belt does it for you, the arousal makes your belly flutter, and you try to look back at him, but each time he pushes your head forward; watch the fireworks, it is his order.

Your hands grip a bit on the balcony railing, as you lean a bit forward, as if presenting you to him. His hands quickly go to your hips, and he leans closer to press a kiss on your neck, soft, wet kisses making their way to your jaw. 

“You are so divine like this, my sweet loving girl” He praises you slightly, his hands rubbing in circles on your hips for a few moments, you can feel his cock pressed on the curvature of your ass, and you whimper a bit impatient now. “So pretty, fuck, and all mine”

The mere thought of that drives him insane. His hand moves upfront, and he quickly finds his way to your pussy, aching and longing for him. You moan impatiently as you push your own throbbing core to his hand and fingers, and he chuckles a bit, without breath as the mere action aroused him to no end. 

“I’ll make you really wet and nice for me” He tells you, always so eloquent at the time of having sex. “You know my goals for this year? Make you my sweet wife…” He admits, moving his hand to your lower abdomen, pushing the dress to be a bit higher on your waist. He presses his hand there, his palm giving your cold body some heat. His fingers find your clit, and press against it so softly, giving you just the right stimulation to make you moan “And I’ll give you my baby, so your belly swells so full and nicely. Yeah, I’ll make you a mother… And then again, and again…” He starts rambling off a bit, his own lust talks for him, and you have to moan at these words. 

The mere thought of it makes your pussy clench in need, and you have to bite your lower lip because of it. Your head cannot properly focus on the pyrotechnic show ahead, but only in his words. You shoulder tense, and your head falls a bit as the lust is too much. You want, you need him inside. 

“Yeah, please, please…” You whine for him, wanting to get the clue and just fuck you, right there. 

“Let’s see, are you properly wet?” He says in his best smugly tone, and you know that tone. He wants to tease you.

Even if you cannot see him, the wet sounds give him away. He is fisting himself, at the sight of you, leaned in the balcony railing all at his mercy as the lights of the fireworks illuminate your figure, and while he inspects you, his fingers around your entrance to check how really wet you are. He takes the note, that if he wants to fuck you along with the pyrotechnic show, the moment was now.

He moves your legs to be apart, cursing in a low tone, as he takes your hips to accommodate you at his taste, and you have to shush your own moan once you feel the tip of his cock moving between your legs, all the way to your entrance. 

He pushes in, firmly and decided, yet still slow at first, as he always did. You assume that he takes his time, wanting to feel you opening at his length and he always groans lowly as if it was the best thing ever. 

You whimper, his cock as always moving inch by inch, slowly as if he wanted your walls to remember his shape, his hardness, every vein and how he throbs for you. 

“First time of the year, huh?” He cannot help but tease a bit, as his forehead was resting against your shoulder, and he looked how the sight of his cock disappeared as he pushed all the way in, and your ass against his crotch never fails to make him moan.  “Fuck..” 

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he moves the other one to caress your hip, as you moan impatiently for him to move.

“Focus on the fireworks” He insists, his tone shaky, and you both know that no one here cares for the damn fireworks right now.

He starts thrusting, slow at first, making you close your eyes in delight, and your breath is catching midway in your throat from how good it feels. He as well feels in pure delight, you always took him so well, you always were so tight that it made him fantasise about you always. 

“Just like that, baby” He says, increasing his thrusts, moving your hips to meet his pounding, and you start mewling, and it only seems to encourage him to move faster. His other hand finds the way to your hair, grabbing it to make your head look forward. “You wanted so badly to watch it, and now you don’t even care? Tsk, tsk…” 

You can hear the amusement of his tone, how he loves being the responsible of this, of making you melt under his touch, and thanks to his cock.

Entering you over and over, was probably the best way to start the year, and he marks this tradition as his own now, seeing the fireworks as he fuck you against the balcony railing. The idea pushes him into arousal even further, his forehead leaning on your shoulder again, and it makes so easy to hear his lascive sounds, his soft grunts as he keeps pushing your body to meet his, and wanting to make a mess out of you.

“Fuck!” There, he thinks smirking to himself, so buried into you, and he pushes away without any mercy. You let another mewl, lascive and filthy, driving him insane. “Aemond, fuck…” You moan, his cock deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot, and fitting so good inside you would never keep you quiet. 

You can see from the edge of you eyes the neighbors below, also in the balcony, but they were drinking champagne and unaware of how their upstairs neighbors were fucking like animals in the middle of the firework show.

“Are you close, sweet thing?” He asks kissing and nibbling below your ear, right where your jaw started. “Are you gonna cum– Gonna soak my cock, like the good girl you are?”

“Yes” You say breathing forcefully, letting out an exhale that feels more like a sob, and you nod frantically. His hand loose from your hand, and moves down to play, once again, with your pearl. 

At that, you have to move one of your own hands to your mouth not to shout in ectasis, as he does just the right thing. His cock deep inside you, thrusting and pounding into you, precum all over your walls, you are sure, and his fingers doing circles and rubbing your clitoris in the best way possible. 

It is no one’s surprise when you cum with a choked moan, your eyes closed as Aemond feels your walls clenching around you as your orgasm hits you. You don’t even seem to notice how the show keeps going, the palmer lake fireworks right in front of you, and you are too busy soaking his cock to notice.

He doesn’t last longer either, the sight and the feeling of you cumming around him, is enough to make him bury himself deep into you, and let out a moan as he fills you, his arm wrapped around you keeping you still so you don’t move as he cums inside you.

You both are out of breath, and you are too exhausted from the orgasm that hit you.

“Look” He murmurs, and you let out a little sound, not in the mood for his teasing. “Not, really, look; your favourites, the palmer ones..” He says pointing at them.

You look at the fireworks, explode so gracefully and then fall faintly. You chuckle a bit, as he hugs you from behind, kissing your cheek adoringly and tenderly.

“I love you” You say softly.

“I love you too” He says, as he pulls out, letting you enjoy the rest of the show. 

He pulls your dress down, and makes sure your jacket can warm you after all, and you thank him. He also fixes himself, and he takes you in his arms, kissing your forehead at the last, and more prettier fireworks are in the sky.

“I think that next year, you could ride me” He teases and you have to laugh at that. 

“I’ll do” you promise, curling in his hug and watching the sky full of colours.

It seems like a great year, already. 

[kiwanopie]

Biggest Fan

boyfriend!kiyoomi part VI! one (1) instance of suggestion tooth rotting fluff. 1.3k

Belatedly, he realizes his request to have you move in with him may have been a little redundant.

You two traded keys within the twelve month mark in your relationship, by a year and a half were you coming back from your respective jobs to find the other somewhere cozied up in your respective flats. Fights didn’t really change much to the routine. Maybe a passive aggressive comment to clean your kitchen when he was too miffed at you to do it himself, a high protein lunch “Not!! made with love >:(!” But nothing could ever come between him and having his arms wrapped around you by nightfall. By year two, you were giving your clients the number to the fax at his place. Since ‘Why buy a new one when I’ve got a perfectly good one (that I just bought) at my apartment?”

Now, at year three - Full home office set up in his quaint little penthouse apartment, tenant parking spot, and a front office that signs his alerts with “To the recipients of…” He can’t really wrap his head around why you’re still paying rent at your old apartment? He knows you visit sometimes but hardly enough to keep paying for it. And even as he pads his socked feet around your modest living room, he finds it mostly bare save for a thrifted coffee table and a suede couch he’s fucked you on way too many times to count.

You push another box to him from the threshold of the hallway, another one that sounds a little glassy when he picks it up. “Seriously, what's in these?”

“Just two more of those, baby.” He hears you wheeze. “Then we’ll drop the keys off at the front desk.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Nu-uh.” You punctuate with a grunt.

Kiyoomi knits his brows at the box but turns his heel for the balcony anyway.

Although, maybe the decision to have you move in just yet was a little asinine. He’s been thinking of buying a house. One with a nice view of the stars and the city lights - right on the cusp of the rural area but not a full on road trip to the city; with a big lawn and grassy hedges, white picket fence, open windows, and a mailbox with your names on it.

Or name.

Kiyoomi almost drops the box when those October winds start to nip through his jacket. The falling sky promises something much colder as he tips his reddened nose to the clouds, and watches as they darken with rumbling rain.

It doesn’t take him but a few long strides to get back to the second level where you are, strenuously pushing the next much bigger box into the living room.

“Do you have a coat? It’s gonna start to rain soon.”

You sigh a little tiredly to yourself. “I’m already pretty heated up from all this moving, a little rain won’t hurt.”

“No, you’ll get sick.” Kiyoomi parries. “I’ll put you in my jacket then. I can just run to the car.”

“Nu-uh. I don’t want you to over exert yourself, Omi. You’ve got a game coming up, remember? If anyone shouldn’t be getting sick it’s you.”

You follow his movements as he bends for one of the boxes, avoiding the second much lighter one as you nudge it in his view. “Besides, I doubt it’ll start raining before we can drive back to Tokyo. Forecast says the storm will just miss us.”

Kiyoomi shorts you a glance that’s mostly concerned with the loaded box in front of him. “I- Angel, I still don’t want you to get sick. I can handle a little overwork. You, I very much doubt.”

“Ok, wow. What’s that supposed to- Oh wait, baby that one’s really heavy-“

He lifts it up like it’s nothing.

“Oh…” You gawp. “Right. Pro-athlete.”

Kiyoomi scoffs in favor of letting your astonished gape boost his ego. Though his eyes do catch on the little sliver of polished oak peeking through the box in his hands.

He tilts his head. “What’s this?”

- You break out in a full sweat.

“Uh- W-Wait, wait, baby don’t-“

He’s already swerving to the side to dodge you. Long muscled limbs suddenly too lithe to catch as he turns his shoulder to duck your attempts to stop him, and missing the way you moue at the realization that Christ, you forgot this guy was still somebody’s little brother.

Which means beside his usual indifferent candor, he evades your efforts to stop him from peaking inside with the kind of goading of someone used to slinking away with something he shouldn’t have. Even as you whine he half taunts at the way you try to get a hold of him. “What? What is-“

Kiyoomi nudges open the seal a little more. “Are these posters?”

“Omi-“

“Are these my posters?”

“Stop-“

“Have you been-“ He almost wants to laugh. You’re jumping. “Have you been collecting my posters? All this time?”

“Can you just-“

“Oh, you framed them too.”

“S-Stop it!”

Kiyoomi actually does laugh this time. Like, he actually laughs. And you know it’s supposed to be mean but it flutters out with such genuine mirth that it gives you butterflies. It makes you feel hot to the apples of your cheeks and punches you in the gut with the kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago - but hasn’t. ~ He cards his eyes through the box. You watch him. But instead of horror or disgust, or worse the realization that his girlfriend might be a little lamer than he originally thought;

It’s pride. Honest to god delight that raises his lips over his teeth and turns his cheeks a little chubby. Zeal, and glee, and that kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago -

But hasn’t. “Why have you been hiding these? We could’ve kept these next to all your stuff I keep.”

“All my…?”

“Your diploma, your board certificate, your license,” Kiyoomi absently taps his fingers against the box. Which as he does you all but stiffen at the realization. You figured he encouraged you to make copies because it was safer having a backup, and when you found them framed in his hallway later on you thought nothing of it. I mean, he has a lot of frames in his hallway. Family pictures, the Photo Booth reel from your first date, some miscellaneous pictures of his two siblings,

Your graduation picture, your first anniversary photo, the picture he made you take before your first day as a therapist-

Oh.

Kiyoomi gestures you forward as he starts the motion of walking to his car. “With the way you iced me out before we started dating I was worried you didn’t even like volleyball.”

“Of course I like volleyball?” If the little fan trinkets in the box you’re carrying should mean anything. “I’ve been to like all of your games?”

“Yeah, I know that now,”

He makes the motion of shimming his jacket down his shoulders as he carefully sits the box where the others are, easily lifting the final one out of your grasp as he passes it over; and the way his biceps pop out of his t-shirt makes you shudder when he lifts his arms to close the trunk.

His jacket is warm, it smells just like him. “But you were sure playing coy when we first got together.”

- You, again, break into a sweat.

The way your nose crinkles up in embarrassment is honestly enough to have him suppressing a smirk when he turns to you again. Albeit poorly. Seriously, this guy seems intent on teasing you into the mud today.

“Well!” You stammer. “Because-“

“Well, because!” Kiyoomi kisses you on the forehead as you gasp at the way he openly mocks you. “Shut up. You’re so cute it’s stupid.”

He pinches your cheeks when you rightfully pout at him. “And fix your face. It’ll get stuck like that.”

“When did you become such a bully?!”

“Somewhere between “Can you be my girlfriend?” and “I love you too.””

He titters a little as you grumble your way into the car.

[ellemfaoh]

Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 1 | Vance Hopper x Reader

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word Count: 2.9k

Categories: Enemies to Lovers (eventually lol), Rivalry, Angst, Fluff, mentions of past Bruce X Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Mentions of Blood, Fighting, Female Reader implied

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You both end up getting detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: let’s pretend the grabber decided to start grabbing like a year or two later or smth cuz high schooler Vance and Bruce seems more plausible to me personally

A/N 2.0: Please excuse weird formatting like spaces behind paragraphs n shit. I wrote this on docs because my personal laptop is broken and my school laptops block tumblr—so all this uploading is done from my phone lol

——————————————

You never figured that walking into the Grab ‘N Go on a hot Denver summer day would have catalyzed as big a domino effect on your life as it did—and yet it did.

It was the middle of a Denver summer in 1977, the year before high school; and everyone was dealing with a week hotter than satan’s armpit. Most kids were either in their houses with the AC on full blast, in stores and the local theater, or away to go to the beach with their family. It explains why the town was just a little more empty this week. Both of your parents worked full-time jobs down in the city around an hour away, so you were confined to either your house or local entertainment attractions—the same ones you had been using since you could open your eyes. It was kind of old by the time you were twelve and stuck in your small town for yet another summer.

You were currently situated on your bed, reading last week’s edition of the Teen Beat magazine, flipping through the pages of celebrity interviews, dating tips, and latest fashion trends—which eventually got old, especially considering this was last week’s magazine. You checked the time. 12:53 PM. Probably the hottest part of the day. You only lived three blocks from the Grab N’ Go though, so if you biked or just walked quickly you probably wouldn’t get heatstroke just from being outside.

“Ugh.” You groaned, peeling yourself from the comforts of your bed. You had to change. “All of this for a magazine and some cola.” You muttered to yourself, sliding on the nearest (and hopefully clean) pair of jean shorts and exchanging your spaghetti strap pajama top for a plain white tee.

Getting out of your room and down the hall, you picked up the shoes you kicked off in the hallway yesterday and slipped them on, grabbing the $5 bill your parents left on the counter for you to order lunch with—which you were deciding to use for snacks. Maybe you’d pick up a small lunch thing on the way home. The money’s use was ‘to be determined,’ you decided.

Leaving your house and out into the Denver summer air, any amount of chill you felt on yourself before was wiped away completely. You needed to make this trip quick. What was a little jog compared to the instant relief of the too-cold Grab N’ Go?

Walking into the small convenience store was instant relief. Not too many people were around—and those that were wouldn’t bother you, the lady at the counter looked less bothered too, which was surprising since Vance Hopper was stationed at the pinball machine as per usual. Maybe it was because no one who would piss him off was there. Then again, anyone who bothers Vance must have a death wish.

Grabbing a soda and the new edition of Teen Beat, you walked over to the counter and slid the money over, opening the drink and quenching your thirst for a cold drink. Taking the return cash the lady gave you, you walked over to the exit, flipping through some pages absentmindedly. It was this exact moment where life seemed to have changed forever. An excited kid—probably an elementary schooler if you had to guess, ran into your arm, causing your soda to splash out of the bottle. You definitely had a death wish now, because your soda got all over Vance Hopper; the sugary drink now in his hair and on his back.

When the losing chime of the pinball sounded around the store and the blonde went still, the air in the mart tensed. Everyone was waiting. Watching. You didn’t bother to wait either, quickly speeding out of the store. Maybe he wouldn’t remember your face. You had never really talked with him before, the most you had done was look at him a few times in classes you had previously shared.

You had drank a little more soda and tossed it in the nearest trash. Sure you were running away from what was probably certain death, but you already bought the soda. Might as well finish what’s left before running away. You rolled up your magazine and tucked it into a pocket before moving into a slight jog to go back home. Or maybe you should go get something from a restaurant. Usually when you commit an unsaid crime hiding in unexpected places could benefit. You barely made it a block away before you heard Vance shout at you, his footsteps getting increasingly louder.

“Hey dumb shit! You just got your soda shit all over me!”

You sped up, breaking into a run and not responding to him. If you made it home in time then maybe he’d leave you alone. But what about school? You’d have to change your name and face and move across the country.

“I’m going to kill you!” Now he was running after you. He wasn’t unused to running after kids who fucked with him, so he was pretty used to this kinda thing. And he was fast at it too. “Gotcha!”

You yelped when you were grabbed and thrown down onto the grass next to the sidewalk. At least you were next to a park. Maybe God would be a little more merciful today, considering you could’ve been thrown onto the pavement. You really hoped that the next thing that would happen would be you getting saved right before he starts beating your head into the ground. You really didn’t feel like going to the ER today, and your mom would be pissed about how you knew you shouldn’t start shit with ‘Vance fucking Hopper.’ Your dad would probably beat you for a second time over the medical bills.

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You pleaded, choosing to explain yourself as he straddled your waist, keeping you in place between his legs as he grabbed at your shirt collar. Maybe he’d punch you softer? “Some kid ran into my arm! I promise I’d never bother you ever, Hopper!”

Vance just started down at you, fist by his side, assessing your words. “Huh.” He said, letting your shirt go as your upper body fell to the ground. Now you were winded. Better than the alternative. “Guess I’ll just get a similar payback then.”

You watched in horror as he pulled out a pocket knife. What was he gonna do? Carve his name into you? Cut up your face? Oh god, he was gonna murder you. With a not-so-gentle hand, the blonde boy pulled your hair, hands threaded firmly in your locks. “What…?”

Vance cut off a good length of your hair, and you watched in horror (as best you could) at the hack job. What previously used to be your clean-cut hair was now resting on the floor or cut in the most uneven way possible. Maybe a bright side would be the fact you had the layers all of your hairstylists could never give you. After he was finished, he stood up and looked at the hair in his fist while you sat there crying. “Now we’re even.” He said, tossing the rest of your hair into the grass next to you.

That was the start of your burning hatred for Vance Hopper.

——————————————

High School had finally started a few weeks after your and Vance’s incident. At least your hair could grow into its new form for a little bit. To say your mom was angry when she came home that night to find your hair hacked up was an understatement. She was livid—ranting about, ‘how could you let this happen?!’ And, ‘We need to schedule you an appointment with Shelly immediately.’ You had to hand it to your mom and Shelly though; cuz they got your hair not looking as horrible as it did. Hell, they even kept the layers, which was actually really nice. As you walked through the halls, you could tell there were a few people talking about your hair. It made sense though, considering you ended school with longer hair.

You walked up to your friend, Bruce Yamada, leaning against his neighboring locker as you let out a quiet groan of exhaustion and annoyance. He just chuckled and closed his locker, slinging his bag over his shoulder and gave you a light punch in the shoulder. “Spur of the moment decision, or did you get caught in something?”

“Does Vance Hopper count?”

“Yikes.”

You quickly socked him in the shoulder, lips turned into a frown as you looked at him. Bruce just gave a light chuckle and apologized for the remark while rubbing his shoulder. You weren’t by any means a crazily strong badass, but you can pack quite a mean punch. Just not against Vance Hopper, or Robin Arellano. Though, after your run-in with Vance this summer, you did practice your swings and basic attacks—just in case, you thought,

“Whatever, let’s just go to class.” You sighed, grabbing Bruce by his backpack strap and pulling on him. You two were lucky to have three out of your six of your classes together, and they were in every other class period, so it wouldn’t be horrible.

Rolling into your first period, which was Biology, you were relieved to not see a certain blonde-headed dickhead anywhere around. Bruce chuckled at you when you let out a sigh of relief and dragged you to the last available seats that were next to each other. You both would be damned if you didn’t sit next to each other. Bruce wanted someone to help keep his ‘crazy fans,’ as you dubbed it, away from him. You? You just didn’t really wanna sit next to someone you didn’t know well. You really hated the awkward silence when the teacher asked you guys to do the ‘get to know your classmate’ activities.

“Class one cleared.” He whispered to you, getting a giggle out of you. That was the nice part of being friends with Bruce, is that he always knew how to keep the mood light. Previously, a few summers ago, you both dated. It wasn’t anything big, and it just felt like being friends. You both decided to just keep up with the friends thing, considering there was no romantic chemistry there. Now you were both the other’s special person. Bruce’s break-ups, your family issues, no secret was kept between you two.

——————

After Biology ended and you started heading toward English, your stomach lurched up your throat. Vance Hopper was right in front of you. Luckily he was walking forward so he didn’t see you, but you almost bumped into him for a second time. You didn’t need to be re-acquainted with his pocket knife again. You saw a small space in the hallway clear out and give you a direct ‘in’ into your English classroom, so you quickly ducked your head and hurried into the classroom, finding a seat in the back of the class next to the windows. Thank god this spot was still open.

You set your bag down on your desk and laid your head on top of it, listening to the buzz of kids talking with their friends as they entered the classroom. What was a short 5-minute power nap gonna do? Just before you could relax fully though, the buzz turned into a quiet hum suddenly. It was weird. Did the teacher walk in? Was it Mr. Manning? He was the worst teacher to have. You lifted your head up to see what the quietness was about, expecting to see a balding middle aged man at the front of the class, but you were met with Vance Hopper.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching him walk up to you.

“Hey dipshit, you’re in my seat.”

The kids in the classroom visibly tensed as he spoke to you, watching as you gave him a tired look. You knew the easy path would be to relinquish your seat and move, but you were particularly pissed at him. You didn’t want to give him the right to walk all over you. It was the middle of a school day—what was he gonna do?

“No I’m not. I’m in my seat.”

Vance gave you an angry look, standing right next to you. “Do I need to cut off your tongue next? I’m telling you to–”

“Everyone sit down and be quiet. I’m taking attendance.” Your teacher walked in, and what did you know? Mr. Manning. “Also, these are your seats for the rest of the school year, so enjoy.” Everyone looked up at him, waiting for him to finish with whatever paper he had in his hands. Please look up. Please notice Vance. “Hopper! I know about you. Sit your ass down.” He said, pointing at the seat next to you. Fuck. That wasn’t occupied?

Vance gave you one more angry glare before dropping his stuff and sitting down begrudgingly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Well, at least Vance wouldn’t be able to torment you too much here. When you looked up though, he slid his finger across his throat. A warning.

You’re dead.

——————

“I’m telling you Bruce, he kept kicking my legs during class! It hurt like a bitch too. Have you seen his boots? I’m gonna die.” You finish telling Bruce, sitting at your table and chewing angrily on your sandwich. It was Friday, the last day of the first week of school, and you were just hours from 48 hours of freedom from Vance Hopper. “And I have to deal with him in history next.” Yes, you had Vance Hopper in two of your classes

“Wow. Good luck.” He says, trading you his apple for your peach. “I mean, good luck with getting through high school. With Vance in your classes and all.”

“Your support speaks volumes.” You say flatly, laughing along with Bruce. You couldn’t ask for a better friend—he just always made things feel so much better.

That was until you felt a cold substance coat your head entirely, slowly dripping in your hair to your clothes. Vance fucking Hopper just poured his milk all over you. Bruce just stared at you for a second, standing up instantly as you took a moment to process what happened and wipe the milk off of your face.

“What’s your problem with (Y/N), man?!” Bruce shouted at Vance, the blonde walking away with a cocky smirk.

“I mistook her for a trash can, my bad.” He chuckled, kids turning to look at the commotion building. “Maybe you shouldn’t hang around her so much, you wouldn’t want me to have to—“

Vance was met with a right hook to the face, not expecting you to fight back ever. The first time you had cried over a simple accident, but now you were swinging at him? Oh were you getting bold. He blinked in shock for a moment, pressing a hand to his face and looking at you. Maybe now would be a good time to back down and accept what you had coming, but you were feeling really stupid today.

He seized you by your collar, holding you close as he growled out, “You’ll regret that when you’re six feet under, you bitch.”

You spat in his face, kicking at his knee to get him to let go—which he did, and you fell back to the ground with all your body weight, watching him wipe the spit from his face as he wound back and gave you a good kick to your legs, a yelp caught in your throat. Now the entire cafeteria had eyes on you both, kids watching in horror, shock, and excitement. You’d love to see these kids go toe-to-toe with Vance Hopper the way you were now.

After a short while of fighting, you and Vance were on the floor. Scratches, bites, punches, hair pulling. Blood, and bruises, and welts. Vance’s arms were for sure fucked to hell and back, but he did a large number to your torso. You would totally believe it if you were told you broke a rib. It wasn’t long before Bruce had run back in with security and staff, watching the two of you get pulled apart.

Vance had a bruise already taking place on his cheek and his arms were visibly harmed—hell, you even got a hold of some of his hair. The previously fluffy but somewhat tamed mop on his head was now a mess of tangles and abuse. You meanwhile had a bloody nose, and you were holding an arm around your stomach, knees wobbly. While you managed to get back at Vance in your own way, you definitely took the brunt of the beating, and not to mention the milk in your hair was still there.

Vance fought against the grip on his arms like an angry restrained dog, while you stared at the floor, walking to the office with the teacher who was next to you. Looking over at Bruce, he mouthed a ‘sorry’ and you just gave him a small smile, shaking your head. You could always count on Bruce to somehow end up a hero in a sense. With a last look back at Vance, he also walked in defeat to the office, refusing to look at you. What a fucking asshole.

[ficsforeren]

Our Little Secret - Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Spider-Man/Spider-Girl AU, Fluff, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger, a 21-year-old virgin college student who loves his camera a little bit too much, has a crush on you. Every night, he switches on his camera and talks about you but he never could find the courage to speak to you in real life. Strangely enough, he finds it easy for him to befriend Spider-Girl, the crime fighting vigilante, not knowing that you both share the same identity.

Chapter Summary: Due to some miracle, Eren finally gets to go on a date with you, and you look so pretty, so cute, he doesn't know if he can survive the night without drooling all over his shirt. He doesn't know that you're Spider-Girl, the same woman he's been spending so many wonderful hours together. You want him to find out about it, but at the same time, you know it's wiser not to say a word. But when one thing leads to another... Can you really keep yourself silent?

Content Warnings: explicit sex scene (happens at the end of the series, can be skipped if you want), swearing, mentions of characters going through depression, traumatic past events

Word Count: 10k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart on Twitter

The Coffee Club. 8 PM. 

My first date ever.

The last time Eren ever felt this excited in his life was when his brother Zeke accidentally left his credit card on the coffee table. It was the best day of his twenty years of living, truly. Eren spent five hundred bucks to get himself a geometric wolf tattoo on his left forearm, and a full black tribal band tattoo on his right bicep. He wasted a few hundred more just to be a dick and get back at his brother for catching his private session on camera.

When Eren came home later that night with the biggest wicked grin and a shopping bag practically the size of his fridge, Zeke swore that from that day on, they were no longer brothers. “Oh no, I’m going to cry,” Eren faked a pout and a whine, going as far as puffing out his cheeks and pushing out his lower lip, but when he slapped back his credit card to his brother’s chest, Eren tossed him a demonic smirk. “Fine with me, Monke.” Zeke tried his very best to ignore his baby brother for, at least, a month. But only two days had passed and he came barging into his brother’s bedroom, hugged him from behind—causing Eren’s character on screen to get shot by this jackass named Noobmaster 92 (fuck you, Noobmaster92)—and cried out, “Please tell me you still love me! PLEASE TELL ME YOU STILL LOVE ME, EREN!”

So, yeah, that happened. Wait, what were we talking about again?

Oh, right! The date!

Eren has fantasized about going on a date with you ever since he got his first wet dream (he got it pretty early when he was still, like, twelve—probably because he kept stealing Zeke’s hentai mangas and read them in secret). At that time, the only female he had ever interacted with so intensely in real life was the little girl he met during his stay at the hospital (a.k.a you). Eren knew he had a crush on you from the start. He just didn’t know that he was down for you so bad that you began to take form in his dreams too. 

To be honest, if he could select the girl he was going to have sex with in his dream as easily as he picked a character in his favorite game, he wouldn’t have chosen you. Of course, he would love to see himself, for the lack of a better word, fucking you in his dreams. Hell, maybe God would be kind and He would let you motorboat your tits too. But his dreams are filthy. Even filthier than his wildest imaginations and that’s saying something. And you don’t deserve to be treated like a prostitute or a sex doll. You’re a princess in his eyes—a goddess even, and that’s why you need to be worshiped. He wants to make love to you, not just to fuck your brains out in the nearest alley. Fucking is for bunnies. Or Muffin and that ugly pug that keeps trying to get inside his backyard just to get a quick hump. Eren isn’t like them. Eren is—

Damn it, we keep getting sidetracked. 

So, about his date.

Eren has his thumb between his lips, teeth grinding against his nail as he sits on the bench that stands right across from the coffee shop where you’re supposed to be meeting him soon. He takes a glance at his phone screen, a smile naturally graces his lips when he sees his wallpaper—your pretty eyes looking like the most beautiful pair of crescents, your lips pulled back in the cutest grin. He notices that he’s an hour early (poor boy is too excited for his date), and that means he has to wait for another hour with his leg bouncing restlessly against the concrete, his nose turning a shade redder every time the night breeze kisses his cheeks. Spring is about to come to an end in a few more weeks, and yet here he is, still shivering like a baby deer.

He’s okay with being cold, he just doesn’t like it when the wind blows too hard because my Lord Jesus, I love you, but I spent literally an hour of my life trying to style my hair like this, so can you take it easy with the wind tonight, please? Thanks. It’s really nothing special, actually. He just tied his hair up like usual but instead of sporting that messy man-bun because he didn’t care, he’s going with the stylishly messy man-bun, as in he spent an hour in front of his bathroom mirror trying to trim and comb his hair here and there to make it seem like it already looks that good even without him doing anything. He had to watch a thirty-minute-long tutorial video called “How to Get a Man Bun like Jungkook from BTS” on YouTube to get his hair done right. 

He’s dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a slim-fit white sweater, a nice jacket to keep him warm, and a great pair of boots instead of his usual sneakers to showcase effort. Eren still low-key thinks that he should’ve worn his suit but then again, he doesn’t want to seem too overdressed.

He’s brought you some flowers, a whole-ass bouquet called Grape Bubblegum, full of sweet colors and matches—the most playful type of bouquet, they said. The florist told him, “Judging from your story, I can tell she’s a very energetic person so I believe this one suits her best. I can guarantee that she's going to have the biggest smile on her face when you give this to her. That’s the best way to start your romantic journey together, don’t you agree?” It’s most likely bullshit—just another one of her marketing scams—but Eren snapped his fingers in the air, shouting, “Bitch, I’m sold. Take my fucking money.” Of course, he didn’t actually curse. Eren would never do that to older people. To his three years older brother Zeke? Sure, yeah, definitely. But to a sweet, sweet old woman who looked like she needed to settle in a retirement home for good? Nope.

Of course, Grape Bubblegum doesn’t look as playful and beautiful anymore when some jackass—who probably weighed a hundred pounds more than he was—accidentally sat on it on the bus. Never in his life had Eren ever felt like he was about to commit genocide from the amount of rage burning in his chest, but at that time, he really did. But no, instead of lashing out, he just said, “Dude, get off my flowers!” The two pink roses—which are supposed to be the highlight of Grape Bubblegum—are ruined but Eren continues to hold the bouquet close to his chest, not knowing what else to do since he hasn’t prepared another gift for you. 

Should I run to the nearest store and grab some chocolates for her? He thinks, biting harder against his nail with his eyes glaring at his dark combat boots. No, that would make me look like I'm being half-assed about it. God, that’s the last thing I wanna do—to look like I’m—

“Hey, you’re early.”

“—BEING HALF-ASSED!” Eren jumps from his seat, his mouth spouting the last line that runs through his head as he’s shocked by the sight of you standing not a meter away from him. You’re just as surprised, taking a step back in reflex to avoid his head bumping against your chin. 

“Sorry,” you say, raising both hands in the air to calm him down. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Eren didn’t catch a single second of sleep last night trying to come up with the right words to say upon your first meeting. He has prepared a whole speech, something that goes along the line of: “Hey, you came. You look so beautiful. Is that a new dress? Looks pretty on you. Me? No, I just got here. Oh, right, almost forgot, I bought you some flowers. No, it’s okay, it’s nothing. My aunt is a florist so it really wasn’t a big deal. I just hope you’ll like them. You do? You love them? Oh, thank God. I was really nervous about this whole date. Yesterday was a mess and I don’t want to repeat that mistake again. Why am I going this far for a first date, you ask? Well… Isn’t it obvious? I really like you. You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I adore you with all my heart. Everything you do drives me insane and I just hope you’ll give me the chance to be closer to you. To understand you better. And to make you feel… my love.”

Okay, maybe it was a bit too much for a greeting—and corny too, probably, but if Adele could sing that line in a song, why can’t he say it to the girl who owns his heart? Nevertheless, it would still be a thousand times better than him spitting on your face—almost literally—while shouting, “BEING HALF-ASSED!”

“What did you mean about being half-assed?” And you had to ask about it too. Great. You could’ve just let him go, saved his poor soul by pretending like you didn’t hear him. But no, you just had to humiliate him even further this way. Because that’s where you find your enjoyment, isn’t it?

Eren, as he tries his best to stop himself from lying down on the pavement—crying his heart out—offers the bouquet to you with a pout and his shoulders sagging forward. You blink twice, a bit stunned as you’ve never received flowers on a first date before. You thought it was going to be a casual date—just two friends hanging out, trading coquettish smiles and flirty banter over a cup of coffee. But no, apparently for Eren, this is serious.

“Some fat guy sat on them when I was on the bus,” Eren murmurs with his chin tucked, his invisible puppy ears going down. “I’m sorry. I wanted to buy you something else but I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it on time for our date. I thought about getting you chocolates from the store, but I didn’t want to seem like I was being—"

“Half-assed about it,” you finish, accepting the flowers from his hands. Happiness glows inside you. He doesn’t need to bring you flowers to make you smile. Just seeing him like this, with his blush painting his cheeks and a pout growing prominent on his face, this is enough. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to bring me anything. I already feel so happy knowing that you put that much thought into it. I’m sorry I didn’t bring you anything.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.”

“Is there anything I could do for you?” You offer him a benign smile. “Is there anything you want me to do?”

Eren swallows, his mind coming up with a thousand different answers at once. Of course, he has something he wants you to do for him. He has a lot of things he wants you to do, to him, for him, and with him. But one thought stands more vividly than the rest, especially when he rakes his eyes over your appearance. You’re wearing a soft pink trench coat above your black skirt and chiffon blouse, and a pair of boots that accentuate your legs. On top of your hair is a beanie—the cutest one he’s ever seen—to keep yourself warm, and a patterned navy blue scarf to protect your neck from the night wind. You look like you’re walking out of a romantic movie, a true heroine of a beautiful love story.

 “Can I, umm…” He tightens his grip around the strap of his bag that’s hanging on one shoulder. “Can I take your picture? I-if you don’t mind.”

“You mean right now?” You look around to take a quick scan of your surroundings. A few people are walking down the pavements, mostly young couples sharing giggles between conversations as they hold each other’s hands. 

Eren notices how you seem a bit uncomfortable by the thought of striking poses in public. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he hastily adds.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, smoothening down your skirt. You move closer to the streetlamp to get better lighting, standing a bit awkwardly as you hold his flower tightly in your hands. “Like this? Let me know if I look weird, okay?”

“You’re beautiful,” he says without even giving a second for his brain to digest your words. Retrieving his DSLR camera from his bag, he takes off his lens cover and offers you a sheepish smile. “You’ll always look beautiful to me, no matter what you do. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“That’s…” You can already feel your heart pounding like a drum and your date just started literally seven minutes ago. “That’s too much, but thank you.”

Seeing how your usually confident self is turning diffident, Eren feels his cheeks getting warmer. Ah, she’s so cute, he wants to shout it to the world. “I will, umm,” he clears her throat, bringing his camera closer to his face. “I will just—“

“Yeah, just take it.”

It feels so awkward having him take pictures of you on the street like this as you are more accustomed to striking poses while keeping your identity hidden underneath your Spider-Girl costume. You feel bare and exposed, feeling how intense his gaze is even from behind his camera. After a few clicks, Eren brings his device down, taking a quick look at the photos.

“Do they come out nice?” You ask him.

“Yes.” He seems immensely pleased, looking like he just had his wish granted after years of waiting, which in a way, is true. “You look perfect.”

Ignoring the way your stomach somersault from his comment, you take a stride toward him. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who gets photographed over here.” Eren watches you take out your phone from your coat pocket. “Can I? To commemorate our first date.”

 Eren, realizing what you’re planning to do, nods shakily. “S-sure.” Never in his life had he thought he would have the chance to take a selfie together with you but there he is, standing close enough for him to get a waft of your shampoo. 

“Maybe it’s better if you hold it since you’re taller than me,” you say and he nods again. His words have left him for good. Your scent’s too intoxicating for him to think.

Taking a hold of your phone, he bends down a little to fit his face right next to yours in the frame. “Okay, uhh, on three,” he says, sounding noticeably nervous and you refrain yourself from giggling. “One, two…” He taps his thumb twice on your phone’s screen before he hands it back to you. You take a look at them together, with Eren, who’s standing close behind you, grimacing right away at the sight. “Ugh, I look so weird.”

“No, you’re cute,” you correct him, turning his body stiff when you suddenly look up at him. The proximity you’re in is the closest you’ve ever been to him, and while you do feel your heartbeat escalating just a tad faster, Eren’s is soaring through the roof. “You’re the cutest boy I’ve ever taken a selfie with. Thank you, Eren.” 

“Umm, yeah…” You can see his eyes drift down to your lips before he averts his gaze. “Y-you’re welcome.”

“Is it okay if we take another one?”

She’s planning to kill me, she really is. “Sure.”

Eren is somewhat right because you do have a plan, not to kill him, just… tease him a little bit. “Ready? One, two…” Right as he clicks the shutter button on your screen, you stand on your toes and plant a kiss on his cheek. Eren’s eyes widen in surprise, the camera catches a picture of it. Your phone nearly slips out of his grip when he backs away from you, face flushed. “What—why—did you just—” he stammers, his thoughts scattering all over the place.

Giggling, you snatch back your phone from his hand, going through your gallery. “Hey, it looks perfect!” You chirp gleefully while Eren is still trying to collect himself. You hook a hand around his arm, tugging him close until his shoulder bumps against yours. “Don’t we look cute together?” You show him the picture of you looking like nothing but a pair of lovers with scarlet cheeks and an innocent kiss. Eren is blushing hard enough for his ears to buzz. He still can’t believe this is happening. “Do you want me to send the pictures to you?”

He gives three little timid nods. “Y-yes, please.”

Cute, cute, cute, cute, he’s so cute. “Okay, done. Now we can have matching wallpapers if you want.”

Fourteen minutes into the date and this is already the best thing that’s ever happened in his life. 

As he places back his camera into his bag, You take a moment to breathe in the scent of roses and lavender from the bouquet he’s given you. You have the most radiant, expressive smile breaking on your lips as you close your eyes, reveling in the fragrance.

Watching you like this… Eren feels his heart singing again. You look so small, so delicate. Graceful too with your fingers pushing a lock of your hair so it won’t fall over your face. You leave him dizzy, breathless even, just by the mere sight of you looking up at him from underneath your lashes. “I’ll put this in a vase when I get home. They say fresh flowers could last up to twelve days if you take care of them properly. I’ll try my best to make them last.”

God, you would look so pretty in a wedding dress. “Y-you don’t have to. I will get you new flowers when they’ve withered away. I can send you a bouquet every week if you want.”

“How very committed of you,” you croon, pursing your lips in a way that makes his flush spread to his ears. “Why don’t we just focus on getting through the night for now? If you’re on your best behavior, maybe we can arrange a second date.” You don’t even have to add a wink to give him a heart attack. Your words already did that for you.

“I—Really?”

“Yes,” you chuckle, amused by how his entire face just brightened at the thought. “By the way, when did you get here? I thought I was early but you already got here before me. Did you wait long?”

“N-no.” He looks away, rubbing the tip of his nose. “I just got here.”

You’re a terrible liar. “And when was that exactly?”

“About…” He grows nervous under your gaze. Wincing, he decides to tell the truth. “An hour ago?”

“Oh my God—really? Why didn’t you go inside the coffee house? It’s freezing out here.”

“I’m not cold.” He tries to convince you by straightening his back, even though his hands are shivering inside the pockets of his jacket.  

“Your nose is red, dummy.” You shake your head, pushing back the bouquet to his chest. “Hold the flowers for me?” 

“Umm, okay,” he complies although his forehead creases in confusion. “What are you—”

Without waiting for him to finish, you quickly untangle your scarf, standing on your toes to hook the wooly fabric around his neck. Eren holds his breath, his eyes turning round. Tugging him closer by the scarf, you force his body to lean toward you. He catches a whiff of the perfume you wore for the night, even when the wind is blowing hard enough to raise the tiny hairs on his nape—or maybe it’s because of how close you are to him. 

You toss him a smile, feeling satisfied when you witness how much effects you have on him. “Do you know how to tie a Parisian scarf knot?”

Your voice is thick with charm in his ears, melodious and a bit… seductive. He swallows his breath, fingers curling into fists as he tries to stop his eyes from wandering anywhere else but your eyes. Your lips look so inviting, but he doesn’t want to look more obvious than he already does. “No, Ma’am.” He discovers his voice again after spending what feels like forever trying to process your question.

“Well, it’s really easy. Fold your scarf in half widthwise.” You practice directly on him, doing the same thing your lips instructed you to. “Then fold in half again lengthwise. Drape the scarf over your neck, and then—bend down a little for me?” 

Eren’s face is burning bright but he follows. This time, he can’t stop himself from gazing at your lips. He can tell that you’re wearing a different shade of lipstick tonight. You keep your make-up to a minimum but you applied bold red lipstick to grab his attention. And boy, you didn’t just steal his attention. You’re taking his entire breath away. 

“Then you bring the loose ends through the hole,” you continue, pretending like you’re oblivious to the thoughts of him wanting to get a taste of your lip gloss. “Tighten the scarf around your neck and voila.” You beam at him with a youthful grin, patting your hands once against his chest. “There you have it. A Parisian scarf knot. Does it feel warm, big boy?”

Warm? He’s about to burst into fucking flames. He shakily nods. “Yes, Ma’am, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you grin, taking the flowers back from him.

“What about you?” Eren asks, eyebrows stitched in concern. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No, the scarf was just an accessory.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you’re that worried,” you roll your eyes playfully at him, shifting the bouquet to your right hand while you offer him your left one. “Here.”

Eren just stares at it like the idiot that he is. “Umm… Do you want your scarf back?”

“No, silly.” You snatch away his hand, lacing your fingers together before you bring them inside the pocket of your trench coat. Eren’s jaw hangs slack on his face but he’s not given the time to react when you take a step forward, walking toward the path you were coming from.

Eren, low-key panicking (actually, maybe high-key), follows after your trail as he’s left with no choice. His hand is probably sweaty and gross but you hold it firmly as if he’s the other set of puzzles you need to complete you. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” He asks with a quiver in his voice. “L-like, your hand in my pocket instead of mine in yours?”

“True, but let’s not get too predictable.” This time, you do hurl a wink at him and a little bit of his soul just ascends to heaven. 

“Where are we going?” He tries not to think too much about how your hand fits his perfectly or how delightfully warm you are. “I thought we were going to get coffee?”

“I’ve changed my mind. We’re gonna catch a movie instead. You like watching movies, right? Except for the scary ones.”

“Yeah…” But then he furrows his eyebrows, suspicion in his gaze. “Wait, how do you know I don’t like scary movies?”

Oh, shoot. “Well, I mean…” You hope your giggle would be enough to mask how tense you are. “I… have been doing research about you.” What am I even saying? “I mean, I’ve had my eyes on you for a while too. Isn’t it natural for me to want to know what interests you and what doesn't?” Okay, to be fair, that makes a lot of sense but God, that was so embarrassing!

But if your goal is to divert his attention away from the topic, it works perfectly. Right now, Eren is taking a trip over the moon, his spirits flying high at the thought of you asking around about him because you’re interested in him. “Do you, umm…” He wets his lip, his heart thrashing wildly inside his rib cages. “Do you… have a crush on me?”

Are you for real right now?! Who asks that kind of question?! But you’ve got no other choice but to say yes. You have to make your previous sentence believable, don’t you? And it’s not like you’re lying about it. You do have a crush on him. Actually, it’s even bigger than that. You’re probably in love with him at this point. But admitting it out loud to the person you have feelings for? Doesn’t that mean you’re going to do the same as he did on the rooftop, telling stories about you to Spider-Girl? Except you’re going to sound like a bigger idiot this time since you’re not going to accidentally tell him about your feelings just because you happened to be clueless about his secret identity. Eren’s alter ego is a giant pervert and you already know that from day one, and now you’re going to admit your feelings to him like this.

I hate myself.

You sigh, glaring into the night as you admit bashfully, “Yeah. Kinda.” Ah, I want to die.

You’re not sure what you expect him to say. Maybe you want him to be honest too? Make this a little less awkward and humiliating by saying, “That’s good because I have a crush on you too. And it’s so bad that I had to jerk off to your pictures and tell the town’s most famous superheroine about it.” or something like that. But of course, that only happens in your mind because now silence comes third-wheeling on your date, and you’re this close to shooting your web and swinging away from the scene.

Then you hear him sniffling.

Spinning your head so fast, you almost give yourself a head rush. “Are you crying right now?”

He is. He so is. Well, not actually crying like how he bawled his eyes out when he watched Hachiko—that movie had no business being that sad and depressing. But yes, Eren may have gotten a little bit emotional by your confession. Could you really blame him, though? Adoring someone from afar for two fucking years without doing anything but secretly taking your pictures is not an easy feat. Eren really thought he would never find the chance to talk to you, let alone go on a date with you like this. And now you’re telling him you’ve got a crush on him too? 

“N-no,” he mumbles, tossing his face to the side as he rubs the back of his hand against his nose. “I’m just—I’m cold.”

“You literally just said you weren’t cold.”

“Yeah, but that was just me trying to look strong.” He sniffles again. “I’m actually very sensitive to cold.”

He really can’t lie to save his life, but that attempt deserves a reward so you bump your shoulder against his in a playful manner, letting out the softest laugh as you do. “You’re blushing so hard right now, I can tell.”

“I know,” he admits with his head hanging low. “I’m so pathetic.”

“I think you’re adorable.”

“C-calling a grown-ass man adorable isn’t really a compliment, you know.”

“And yet, it makes you blush even harder. I say it is, big boy.”

Your smirk is supposed to seem evil but to Eren, you just look so titillating, his brain immediately takes a snapshot of your expression for his, uhh… late-night entertainment. “You’re going to kill me someday,” he mutters, his pout returning to his lips.

“Well…” You release his hand only to hug his arm against your chest, your cheek grazing against the fabric of his jacket as you walk side by side with barely a centimeter separating you. “Let’s just hope someone will be there to save you.”

At this rate, even Quicksilver can’t be fast enough to save him from dying. “You’re a dangerous woman.”

***

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”

That’s what you’ve been saying for the last fifteen minutes as you walk out of the theater with one hand holding your bouquet and another one cupping your face, fingers tapping lightly against your cheek so it would stop feeling like it’s catching on fire. 

You had a plan. A very thorough plan involving you leaning your head against his shoulder as you both watched a romantic movie playing on the big screen; you giving him signs that it would be okay for him to hold your hand and maybe, just maybe, he could lean in to kiss you too. Not wanting to sound desperate or anything, but you have been thinking about doing intimate things with him for a while, especially after he confessed his whole feelings to you—well, to Spider-Girl—on the rooftop two nights ago. You can’t help it. After knowing that he likes you so much, it’s impossible for you not to expect something to happen tonight. Especially since you knew that he’s been thinking about you in sexual ways too. If he had one hand wrapped around his dick just from being aroused at the thought of you, obviously he would want to do something more than hold hands, wouldn’t he?

You’re both still in your early twenties. It’s natural to have your hormones going crazy at the thought of being in the dark with a cute boy. Boys might not know this, but girls think about sex just as much as boys do, don’t they? It’s been a while since you’ve let loose and made out with a handsome quarterback at the back of his car. It doesn’t help that you’re still a virgin too, just like Eren. You have a desire burning inside you, and an endless amount of curiosity needing to be answered. But it’s not just physical contact that you crave, it’s the emotional bond too. You want to feel like you’re in love. You want to be loved, and Eren, you know for certain, has so much of that to give you. If only you had followed your plan, you might have been able to have all that. Because the movie date was supposed to be cute, with him stealing glances and gazing at you with those lovestruck eyes every time he caught you smiling at him, but no, what happened was—

“I think it’s cute that you were already snoring in the first ten minutes,” Eren simpers. 

Fire burns your cheeks. “I did not snore.”

“You did. Pretty loudly too. There was this couple sitting in front of us that kept looking back to check up on you.”

“Oh my God.” You rub a hand over your face, hiding your lower half behind your palm. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Eren laughs wholeheartedly, placing his hand above your head just like how a big brother would tease his sister. “Guess being the top student can be pretty hard, huh?”

Being a top student? Nah. Running around the town catching drug dealers and stopping car chases at three in the morning? Yeah, probably. “I’m so sorry,” you vocalize with regret in your tone. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Studying?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “There’s this science olympics I have to participate in next month and I’ve got so many things to prepare. I need to land first place or my dad’s gonna kill me. My body must have given up on me.”

He stops walking, taking your hand so naturally this time that it leaves you—the one who took the initiative—flustered. “Are you okay?” He asks, concern overtaking his face. “I can take you home if you want to rest. We don’t have to do this tonight.”

Your heart melts a little. He’s always like this. So attentive, so caring, putting your needs above everything else. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “I slept like a baby for two hours just now—I’m fully recharged. Thank you for lending me your shoulder the whole time. Is your arm okay?”

“Yeah,” he tosses you his lopsided grin. “Just a bit smelly ‘cause you drooled all over my jacket.”

“Shut up!”

Conversations start to flow naturally as you both grow more comfortable with each other’s presence. The initial awkwardness has vanished without a trace, transforming into a sense of familiarity that shrouds you as if you were two friends who had been spending time together for weeks. Which, of course, you are, but Eren doesn’t know this. 

He doesn’t blush so often anymore but you, on the other hand, are becoming worse and worse in that department. The more comfortable he is with you, the more honest he becomes, and the more he feels like he can say anything he wants to say. He told you how he really liked it when you wore your hair up in a ponytail, how it made you look sporty and fresh, and even a bit sexy (he still turned red at the last part, but he didn’t stammer like a five-year-old trying to tell a story). He told you how he liked the scent of your strawberry shampoo—how it suited your sweet and cheerful personality, and how he always thought of you these days when he was out shopping for groceries and he saw strawberries sitting on the fruit counter. He told you that you have a beautiful laugh, the kind that can elevate people’s moods, like sunshine seeping through dark clouds. Everything he says sends blood pooling on your face. It doesn’t help that he never lets go of your hand as you walk down the street, doing the same thing you did to him earlier—interlacing your fingers together and sticking them inside the pocket of his coat.

“Warm?” He asks, his smile is sheepish but his pretty green eyes are radiant, glimmering under the city lights.

You nod, heart palpitating. This doesn’t feel like a first date. It feels like you’ve been lovers for months. 

How perfect is this? Fate came in to introduce you to one another when you were children, and now it’s doing the same thing by reuniting you with him again. Not to mention that your alter ego, Spider-Girl, also met him by accident and now she’s playing a huge part in his life as well. It’s like the universe wants you to be together. But as you fall harder for him with every second passing by, Eren is feeling the opposite.

Unbeknownst to you, Eren hasn’t been a hundred percent honest tonight. He’s said the things he wanted to say but there are still some matters that he holds to himself, and that is the fact that he keeps seeing Spider-Girl in everything you do.

It’s weird. Maybe even sickening at some point. Because how can he think about another girl when he’s going on a date with the girl he’s been secretly in love with for years? He can see Spider-Girl in the little gestures that you make. The way your hands move animatedly in the air when you get too excited as you retell your story; the way you snort and say something witty or sarcastic whenever he’s being a little bit corny. But ultimately, Spider-Girl comes alive in his mind every time you laugh. He can hear it. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine it was Spider-Girl who was chortling at his joke. Even the little giggles you let out ring familiarly in his ears too. 

But why? Why can’t he stop thinking about her when he’s with you? This isn’t right. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. He’s supposed to be head over heels for you and only you. Eren shouldn’t let himself feel like this for a second longer but the more he tries to forget about Spider-Girl, the more his mind does the opposite. 

There are two logical explanations to elucidate the emotion he’s going through: a) for some bizarre reason, you are indeed Spider-Girl herself or b) he’s…

I’m in love with Spider-Girl too. 

Eren feels something weird crawling up his chest, something he can’t really describe. It feels both like dread and also joy. It feels so wrong to admit it to himself, feels even worse that he just realized it now. He’s trying so hard not to believe it that he forces himself to return and think further about his first option.

You’re Spider-Girl. God, even saying it in his head already sounds so ridiculous to him. How can you, one of the university’s best students, have the time to fight crimes? Or even the motivation to sacrifice your life every night to fight a gang of mafias or the Lizard? You just said it yourself that you had to stay up all night to prepare for the olympics. Plus, You’re so different compared to Spider-Girl. You’re much more feminine, even clumsy at times too, while Spider-Girl is this badass fighter with fast reflexes and superhuman strength. Of course, you being clumsy is just a part of your cover, but how could Eren know that? How could he know that the personality you’re showing right now is a part of the illusion you create to make you seem more normal? You’re not this feminine. You’re not this graceful. You don’t laugh with a hand covering your lips to be polite. You laugh with your head thrown back and your eyes shut closed. The real you—the one who has your true personality—is Spider-Girl.

“Hey, are you okay?” Even with your gentle call, Eren still flinches as if you just shouted at him. “You’ve been quiet for a while. What’s wrong?”

He’s staring at you like he’s seeing a ghost and for a moment, you feel your chest tightening too. Has he realized it? Has he figured out that I’m Spider-Girl? Fuck, what gave me away? I thought I was being careful all night. But that’s not it. Eren isn’t panicking because he’s learned the truth about your identity. He’s freaking out because he’s starting to believe that he really is in love with two women at the same time.

This is bad, he thinks, fidgeting as the words sink even harder. This is so bad. 

“N-nothing, sorry,” he forces out a laugh. “Should we go, umm, get some coffee?”

***

“I had a great time today,” you say, turning around on your heels to face him with the sweetest smile you can offer. Standing on the crosswalk, your bodies are bathed in the yellowish glow of the lamppost, two pairs of eyes locking together as the world turns blurry behind you. The digital clock on your phone screen shows that it’s a few minutes away before midnight strikes. The peaceful town has turned quiet. Stores are closed. Most of the locals have returned to their families, all warmed up in the serenity of their homes. There are still a few cars passing by, shining headlights and casting shadows to stretch under your feet. It would’ve been comforting, this atmosphere between you, if your heartbeat didn’t chime so clamorously in your ears.

You’re still struggling to wash away the anxiety in your chest, worried that he’s found out about your secret. But if he did, why doesn’t he say so? Is he waiting for you to make the first move and tell him the truth? It doesn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t he be happy to know that you were the same girl who’d spent countless hours with him, talking your heart out every night? Or is he embarrassed over the fact that you already knew about the feelings he had for you—the real version of you?

Oh no, you almost gasp in shock. What if he’s angry at me for keeping my identity a secret? What if he’s upset that I didn’t stop him when he talked about his crush—about me? What if he thinks I’m annoying for messing around with him? What if he hates me now?

Your head is going round and round and round that you feel like you’re on the verge of throwing up. But when you tilt up your chin to meet his gaze, Eren doesn’t seem like he’s vexed. Rather than angry, he just seems… conflicted. About what, you’re not so sure.

“Me too.” Eren smiles, answering your earlier question. Now that you’re about to part ways, he releases your hand. It feels strange to have spaces between your fingers again, as you’ve grown too comfortable from having his lean ones filling the gaps. “Thank you for lending me your scarf. I’ll wash it before I return it to you.”

“You can have it.” You beam at him, hoping that it would look natural. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

He still turns abashed like he always does, but it doesn’t last long. The next time you blink, he returns to his distraught state.

You’re both too caught up in your own thoughts to form words but you’re recovering faster than he is. With turmoil sitting heavily inside your chest, you feebly ask him, “Is there… something wrong?”

He blinks. “What?”

“It’s just…” You take in a sharp breath. “I feel like something is bothering you, and I keep rewinding everything that we did, trying to figure out what I did wrong but… Are you angry at me..?”

His brain stutters for a moment, every part of him goes on pause as his thoughts catch up. Shit, what have I done? “Nothing’s bothering me!” Eren claims a little bit louder than intended. “I’m so sorry for making you feel worried. I’m not angry at you—I would never—you could never anger me. I’m just… I have some… thoughts, that’s all.”

Okay, that’s a relief. You can sense honesty both in his voice and his expression. “About what? If that’s okay to ask…”

Eren bites on the corner of his lower lip, anxious. “I’m—” He parts his lips but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say to her? I’m in love with you but I feel like I’m also in love with someone else? “I…”

It’s nerve-wracking to see him this way and you can’t stand the tension. What if he’s about to say something you don’t want to hear? “You know what, never mind, it’s okay.” You end your sentence quickly with a peal of laughter that sounds too strained even in your own ears. “I didn’t mean to pry. So, uhh…” You hook your hands between your back, fingers tied around the bouquet to stop him from seeing how jittery you are. “Do you… Do you still want to do this again?”

“Yes,” Eren answers instantly, his breath quickening for some reason. “Yeah, of course. If you want to, I would love to go out with you again.” Maybe if I spend more time with her, I can make sure of my feelings. “I really enjoyed our date tonight. Truly.”

Your smile is genuine but it doesn’t lift the heavy anchor resting in your chest. “Cool. Maybe next time we can have, like, a study date? Finals are coming up soon. We can study at your place if you want.”

“M-my place?” He asks, stupefied. “Umm… Okay. Just the two of us?”

“Do you want me to invite someone else?” You wanted to tease him but your tone sounds flat as if you’re enervated.

Eren’s fingers curl against the side of his jeans. “No…”

“Then I guess it’s just gonna be you and me. I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow, actually. I’m free after I’m done with my ballet practice. Maybe… I can visit your house after that?”

Eren gives two little nervous nods. “O-or I can just pick you up? I’ll borrow Zeke’s bike and we can grab some takeouts before we go to my—” He clears his throat, face aflame. “My house.”

“Okay.” You didn’t feel awkward at all during the date, and now awkwardness is all you feel. “Okay, yeah, that sounds great.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again for the flowers.” Your eyes shift to the same spot of his skin where you brushed your lips against just a few hours before. It’s supposed to be easier the second time, but now you can’t even lean close to give him a friendly hug. Restraining a sigh from fleeing out of your mouth, you toss him one last smile before you pivot on your heels.

“Wait,” Eren calls out, his fingers clamping your wrist. “Let me walk you home, please.” 

“No, it’s all right, I’ll take a cab.” You tug your hand gently, enough for him to get the message and let you go. He’s about to protest when you repeat, “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

The roles are now reversed. Eren can tell there’s something you’re hiding behind your smile, but he’s too much of a coward to use his voice. What if you feel like he’s invading your privacy too much? 

There he goes again, worrying. You realize maybe you’ve come out a bit too strong. Gathering as much courage as you can, you take two quick steps toward him, yank him down by his scarf and place another kiss on his cheek. You can hear him stifling down his gasp as you sweep your lips against his smooth skin. When you break away a second later, you keep your fingers around his scarf, keeping his face hovering just a couple of inches away from yours as you whisper, “Good night.”

Bewitched by your beauty, he finds it hard to breathe. “G-good night.”

You release him. Your smile will be an everlasting memory in his mind. And as you walk away, Eren keeps his eyes trained on your figure.

There’s no doubt that he loves you. Otherwise, how else can he explain this rapid beating of his heart every time he caught a glimpse of you? How else can he explain this sense of elation and gratitude that flowed through him every time you cast him a smile? But why…

Why can’t I stop thinking about her?

Why can’t I stop thinking about Spider-Girl?

***

Eren has been spending the last twenty minutes of his bus ride home just staring at the window with vacant eyes and a storm churning inside his chest. He has taken off the knitted scarf you wound around his neck, his fingers laid idle on the wool as he sets it down on his lap. The scent of your perfume still lingers close but instead of giving him the sense of longing to see you again, it leaves him at sixes and sevens. He thought joy would be the only thing that filled the depth of his heart after his first date with you but now it seems like it’s something intangible. Every time he thinks about you, he thinks about Spider-Girl too, and remorse floods his chest. He folds the scarf and tucks it inside his bag, hoping that he could wash away the guilt that way, even if it’s only for a moment.

As he walks away from his bus stop, Eren retrieves his camera from his bag and wears the black strap around his neck. With his shoulders hunched forward, he switches it on and goes through the pictures he’s taken of you a while ago. His smile still blooms on his face at the sight of you smiling a bit awkwardly to the camera, but it’s faint, barely visible. He clicks on the same button repeatedly, going from one picture to another until his gaze lands on the candid photos of Spider-Girl that he took. He feels his heart jolt. Flashback of the night you shared with him on the rooftop—the way you sounded when you laughed, the retorts you made as he told you his jokes… His smile turns a bit wider this time. For the first time in his life, remembering Spider-Girl spreads more contentment in his chest than the thoughts of you.

Because to him, Spider-Girl feels more… real.

Thunder rumbles above his head, flashing silver light across the night sky. Knowing how it’s about to rain, Eren swerves to the right, stepping inside an abandoned alley that he’s walked a thousand times in his life. It’s a shortcut that takes him right to the road that leads to his house. He’s never bothered by how eerie and quiet it is, not even perplexed by the thought of being alone in the dark with only the moonlight guiding his steps. Except the moon is hidden behind the dark clouds tonight, and he fastens his steps, trying to get home as fast as possible before his body is drenched by the rain.

But he’s forced to slow down the second he crosses paths with a few men covered in tattoos and piercings. 

A man, a few inches shorter than he is with bleached hair, purposefully bumps his shoulder against his, almost causing his camera to slip off his grip. Eren stops walking, lifting his head as the other man turns around to cast him a wicked grin. The other three males sneer, tossing their cigarettes away to the ground and crushing them under their boots. 

“What do you have over there, champ?” The man with the bleached hair asks, yellowish teeth peeking behind chapped lips. “Looks expensive.”

Eren’s cautious eyes drift down to catch him sliding his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie. He’s probably going for his knife, a voice inside him tells him to be prepared. Eren feels his muscles tautening, his heart gradually pumping more blood through his veins as the four men begin to circle him, leaving him with no way to escape.

“Hand us the camera,” another man says, this one has a barcode tattoo on the side of his neck. “We’re gonna need your phone and your wallet too.”

Rain starts to pour. Eren feels the droplets sliding down his cheeks before he can see them. Switching off his camera, he tightens his grip around it. “Look, man,” he says, “I don’t want any trouble here.”

“Give me the camera then.” The tallest one among them suddenly takes a closer step, giving him no choice but to back away. He has his spine glued to the wall, his heart pounding in his ears but he keeps his jaw clenched tight.

“No,” Eren utters through gritted teeth, and within a split second, the taller male has a pocket knife pressed against his throat.

“I wasn’t asking,” he says, voice hoarse and grating. 

Eren doesn’t blink or cower in fear. He faces the man right in his eyes. “Ganging up on me like this. What are you, a bunch of pussies?”

“You fucking—”

Eren knees the man right between his legs hard enough to give him a moment to escape. He ducks his head down, the tip of the man’s knife only missing a few millimeters from slicing his skin. He knows that his chances of winning the fight are close to zero. So instead of holding his ground, he chooses to flee. Still with his camera dangling around his neck and his bag slinging on one shoulder, Eren sprints away as fast as he can. 

But the ground is dark and slippery under the rain, and he misses his footing. Falling to one knee with his palms scratching against the pavements, Eren gets himself pulled back to his feet by one hand tugging at his roots and another slithering around his throat.

Fuck. Terror rises fast in his chest. His brain can’t think fast enough to find a way for him to escape. One man is holding him from behind, the other two are closing in on him, while the tallest one moves to loom before him.

“You’ve got a pretty face for a man,” the tall man grins, pointing the tip of his blade toward his cheekbone as Eren tries to break free. “Why don’t we put a smile on that face, yeah?”

“Get off me, you fucking—”

The rest of his sentence is followed by a silent gasp when a lump of web shoots over Eren’s shoulder. It covers the tall man’s face with a force hard enough to knock him off his balance before another thick string of web, sticky and unyielding, glues him to the ground, keeping him immobile. Before Eren can process what’s happening, another man falls to the earth with a broken nose, screaming in agony into the night. The man that was holding him from behind has his body smashed against the wall, and Eren can see you—Spider-Girl—aiming your wrist forward and shooting enough chunks of web to trap the man to the bricks behind him. Now that he can’t move, it leaves you one more opponent to take care of.

This is the first time Eren sees you in action. The way you hold your fighting stance; the way you drop down to the ground with one leg bent on the knee and another one stretched out; the way you hold your balance with one hand in the air and your other one settled on the concrete only by your fingertips—you’re beautiful. You’re deadly and graceful at the same time, like a ballet dancer performing the third act of Swan Lake. Within seconds, you knock the last gang member unconscious. Eren is about to call out to you when the man with the broken nose returns to his feet and hooks an arm around his neck.

“Don’t move or I’ll slit his throat,” the man with the bleached hair threatens with his teeth bared, and you freeze. 

The rain is tapping against your hood, your costume glistening but not soaked. You raise your arms in the air, keeping your lips tightly pressed as you straighten your back. You watch Eren through your lenses and you see no fear in his eyes even if the tip of the man’s knife is digging dangerously into his skin. You, on the other hand, are nervous. Fear can turn someone as harmless as a baby lamb into a cornered wolf and by the look of it, this man is terrified by the things you can do. One stupid move and you’ll risk Eren’s life. If the man adds just a little bit more pressure onto his knife, Eren will have his white sweater soaked in red.

“Let him go,” you carefully say, not wanting to startle him.

“Get the fuck out of here,” the man says, his voice muffled by the amount of blood clogging his nose. When you don’t budge, he starts to scream. “Are you deaf?! I said, get the fuck away—”

To his surprise—and yours—Eren slams his elbow against the man’s stomach, successfully knocking the wind out of his lungs in one try. Now that he’s released from his headlock, he grabs the man by the shoulder and takes a small step back to unbalance him. Quickly turning around as he maintains a strong grip on his body, Eren pulls his arm as far over his shoulder as he can. It sends his opponent sailing over his head and landing flat on his back. He finishes with a hard punch to his face and the man is laid out cold on the ground.

Your eyes are wide open, baffled by how swift and precise Eren’s movement was. With that amount of muscle in his body, you could tell that he could win his fight if needed. You just didn’t think that he’d perform a complete martial move on him. 

“Wow,” you say, walking through the rain to get to his spot. “Didn’t think you could pull that kind of stunt. I’m impressed.”

“Fuck, that hurt,” Eren hisses, clenching and unclenching his fist as his knuckles throbs with pain. Massaging his hand, he replies to your comment, “Yeah, I took a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu class one time out of curiosity. That’s the only move I know how to do. Didn’t think it would work.”

“Well, you did great.” Now that you’re just an arm’s reach away from him, you gently take a hold of his wrist, bringing it closer to your face so you can inspect it further. You can feel him stiffen under your touch but none of you act on it. “This is gonna bruise tomorrow. You better treat it before you go to bed. Wrap an ice pack in a towel and leave it in place for about ten to twenty minutes. That will help you reduce the swelling.”

Eren watches the way your fingers move delicately against his, the material of your spandex gliding against his skin as you try to soothe his pain. His heart throbs again but it has nothing to do with the amount of adrenaline that rushed through his system merely a minute ago. 

“Thank you,” he says, his voice as quiet as the rain that still pours lightly above you. “For saving me.”

“Yeah, you have a knack for getting into trouble,” you snort, acting aloof as you don’t want him to witness the amount of relief that washes over you.

“Well, fortunately for me, you seem like you have a knack for saving my life.” Seeing you here, hearing your voice, Eren burns with fierce joy. He turns a bit playful, his heart grows enamored at the sight of you. 

You can sense the changes in his tone and the way his fingers move slightly against yours as if he’s trying not to be so obvious but also giving you a hint that he wants you to hold his hand tighter—to touch him longer.

You release him, not wanting to be ensnared by his spell even further than you already have. You relocate your hand to your hip, scolding him like a mother. “Seriously, I left you for one night and you almost got stabbed to death. Can’t you give me a break?”

“It’s not like I was looking for trouble. Shit just happened.”

“You’re lucky you have me saving your ass.”

“I am. I’m glad I have you with me.” The corners of his mouth turn up, bedazzling you with a saccharine smile until he leaves you dumbfounded, the rest of your body immobile save by the delightful swirl dancing in your stomach. “Seems like I have a superheroine stalker.”

Why are you looking at me like that? You muse, your eyes taking in every bit of his expression from behind your lenses. Why do you look like you’re… Your thought is left unfinished when your memory resurfaces. Eren is displaying the same gaze he showed you when you talked to him for the first time on the day the cherry blossom petals were dancing in the wind. That dazed, besotted look on his face as if you were the most gorgeous thing his eyes had the pleasure to revel in. But why? You’re not the most gorgeous thing he’s seen, at least not now when you’re buried underneath your costume. He should’ve had this look when he bid his farewell to you an hour ago, but he didn’t, did he? You made his heart resonate with joy when you granted a kiss on his cheek but he didn’t even hold your hand to stay longer. He didn’t perceive you with this gaze. He doesn’t look like he’s madly in love with you. Not like this. Not like now.

You’re paralyzed for a second when it dawns on you.

Oh, shit.

He likes Spider-Girl. 

And everything clicks. The way he seems perplexed when you kissed him on the cheek, the way he didn’t ask you to stay longer. Perhaps it’s also the reason why he’s no longer wearing your scarf. 

No wonder he looked so distraught before! He was trying to sort out his feelings, wasn’t he?

When you told yourself a couple of months ago that it would be funny if Eren fell for you and Spider-Girl at the same time, you didn’t think it would come true. Because why would he? Why would he be in love with Spider-Girl? He doesn’t know your true identity. He’s never seen your face, never seen you in other clothes except for this skin-tight spandex you’re wearing. You’re like a comic book character, walking in real life and spouting cliche lines as you save little kids from the street. If what he feels is simply admiration, sure, you can understand that. But that’s not what it is. This is affection. This is infatuation. He’s in love. But how come? All he knows about Spider-Girl is your personality—the true version of you instead of the delicate, feminine young lady you exhibited during the date. He only knows the stories you told about your first kiss and your first biking accident, the fear you faced when you were fighting for your life, or the way you laugh like a child and sit like a man, and—

Oh. 

Your heart pulsates harder. Your joy streaks through you like a comet.

“Hey,” Eren calls, tilting his head a little in concern. The sprinkle of rain makes the little baby hairs that fall out of his bun stick to his temple, droplets of water sliding down from his high cheekbone to his chin. “You okay?”

Your thoughts are loud. The voices in your head are screaming one line after another, telling you this is it. This is the real thing. You have no reason to doubt his feelings anymore. Eren loves the real you. Every little part of you. He loves you despite not knowing how you look. He loves you simply because you’re… you.

“I, uh—” Never have you felt so much joy expanding within you before. “Sorry, I have to go.” I can’t talk to you right now. I already feel like I’m going insane just standing right next to you like this. 

Because you know if you stay even a minute longer, your mouth will betray you and you will tell him the truth. You will tell him everything: how you’re the same girl he was with an hour ago. That you’re the same kid he was spending his blissful days with when he was a lonely child sitting inside a hospital ward. That you’re the same girl who saved his life and whose heart was saved by him. And that you feel the same way about him, that you fell for him twelve years ago, that you fell for him that night on the rooftop, that you fell for him again just a few hours ago, and how you fall harder for him now. And how much you want to come out clean, take off your mask, and bury your face in his warmth.

I can’t do this. The moment’s not right. I’m just going to freak him out if I do this now.

I need to prepare my words carefully. The last thing I want to do is upset him.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you say in a hurry. Not giving him a chance to react, you stretch out your arm toward the sky, shoot a rope of web from your wrist, and lift your body off the ground.

“Wait!” He shouts from below, head facing the black clouds as he tries to locate your figure, your body concealed by the night and the fine rain. He’s calling you again and there’s something in his tone, desperate and frantic, that steals your heart and possesses your body to move back into the light. Chewing on your bottom lip, you decide it’s not fair if you just leave him like this. Perhaps it’s okay if I just listen to what he has to say? 

With an uncertain heart, you spin a web and reel yourself down to street level, your body descending until you have your face hanging a few inches away from his. You’re clinging upside-down on a rope of web with the balls of your feet locked around the silvery threads.

“What?” You question him, trying to keep yourself reticent even if the words, “Eren, it’s me!” are rising threateningly close to your lips. 

You see him drawing a sharp breath. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches his fingers into fists, gathering as much courage as he can.

Okay, what do I say to her? Eren muses, his thoughts running like a bullet train piercing through the wind. Should I just tell her the truth? Say, ‘hey, this might sound weird, but I was on a date today with the girl whom I thought I was in love with but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and now I’m thinking that maybe I like you too—I like you much more than I’m supposed to—and I’m low-key freaking out because I don’t want to be that guy who’s in love with two girls at the same time but I really feel like I am. I’m in love with you.

“Eren,” you urge him gently. “I really have to go…”

Fuck this, he curses inwardly. Just stop thinking for a second. You’re an idiot, thinking wouldn’t do you any good. Just do what your heart tells you to do. Just… 

Try.

“Can I…” He wets his bottom lip, his voice quavering. “Can I try something I’ve never done before?”

With your heartbeat blasting in your ears, you feel like all of your senses are screaming at you at once, your blood boiling in anticipation. You can feel it in his voice, the desire and longing he holds for you, the same ones that match the intensity of your own. 

Eren removes his hands from crumpling the side of his jeans, shaky fingertips reaching forward to touch you. He stops mid-air when he sees you stiffening. “Do you trust me?” He asks, barely audible.

“I…” Even upside down like this, face glistening with rain, Eren still looks breathtaking. “I do.”

At your permission, he curls his fingers into the seam at your throat, slipping them beneath the fabric to graze the underside of your jaw. You shudder, breathless as soon as you know what’s going to happen. If he takes off your mask, then so be it. You don’t care anymore. You want him to find out. 

Slowly, Eren rolls back the fabric of your mask, revealing a portion of your skin and your lips. He stops right after your nose, careful not to go any further.

You have your lips slightly parted, so inviting and smooth, with his name resting heavily on your tongue, itching to be spoken. Both of you are coated by the drizzle that pours over you. “Ren—”

Eren leans in, eyes drooping as he rests his hands on each side of your head, pressing his lips tentatively across yours. It’s a chaste kiss, rain-wet and cool, and you feel your breath strangled in your throat even when his lips only brush lightly. He misses the spot, just by a few millimeters, his body so tense, his lungs forgetting how to breathe for a few seconds. 

Eren has always imagined that his first kiss would feel like a dream. Something magical, something that he wants to last forever, something that he’d share with the love of his life at the end of a perfect date. He thought that moment when you bid him good night under the lamppost—that was it. That was the perfect moment to have a perfect kiss, but even if his body wanted it, his heart told him to stay still. His body wanted you, but everything else belonged to Spider-Girl.

You, right now, are the girl who owns his heart. Because kissing under the rain in an abandoned alley with a girl in a superhero costume is the exact opposite of everything he has imagined and yet, this… This right here… This feels right.

This feels like it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

His lips only stay briefly, but even then, you’re having the hardest time opening your eyes. It’s as if you had fallen into a deep sleep and you’re suddenly pulled back into reality. His thumb strokes your cheek, his next words not more than a whisper. “Was that… okay?”

You wet your lip, unintentionally making it harder for him to stay still and listen to your answer before he leans in again. “Kiss me again, Ren,” you murmur, your voice almost drowned by the rain but he can sense the yearning within you and he’s only eager to let you find out how badly he wants you too. 

The second kiss has more zeal, lips parted and teeth threatening to clash. Once it gets a bit intense, Eren finds the strength to break away, his mind reminding him to check on your reaction before he goes even further. But neither of you wants this magic to shatter, not yet. He pulls away only to dive back in with more emotions, more honesty in the way he moves his lips. Splaying his fingers to trap your face, he closes the distance with a soft groan erupting right at the second your lips collide once more. He has his eyebrows furrowed as he sets you ablaze with his avidity, applying more pressure to his lips, more yearning, more burning desire. He lacks experience, but he makes it up with his passion. When you gasp slightly in surprise, Eren captures your bottom lip between his. His kiss, though arduous, is also gentle—just like how he is as a person. It’s sweeter than the ones you’ve experienced. Addicting. Intoxicating. And maybe everything feels this way because you have blood pooling in your brain, but you don’t care. Just like him, this moment feels right.

It’s only when you hear the siren of a police car passing down the street that Eren stops, pulling away but remains close enough for you to have his warm breath caressing your skin. “Shouldn’t you go?” He asks, voice sounding hoarse as if he hasn’t spoken in years. But despite his words, he closes his lips around yours again, clamping around your top one this time.

“Yeah,” you breathe out between heavy kisses. “Kiss me again.”

You part your lips wider to welcome him deeper, and you can feel just a little bit of his tongue swiping along the seam of your lips. Your stomach flips, a faint moan escaping you and Eren tastes the rain, tastes the flavor of your chapstick, tastes you. 

The siren blares through the night again. “They need you,” he whispers.

You have one hand framing his face, stopping him from ending his kiss. “There are other superheroes in town.”

Eren chuckles, kissing you a couple of times more before he leans back, his teeth catching the corner of his bottom lip, his eyes hazy as he watches the way his thumb glides across your lips. You’re about to close the gap again when he titters. “Baby,” he says, the pet name he gives you sends shivers down your spine. “You should go. We can do this a million times more when the city is safe.”

Your smile is about to break on your lips but you quickly replace it with a pout. “I hate you, Tarantula Boy.”

You pull on your web, your body returning to the air before you swing away and disappear into the night. Eren watches you still, his smile perpetual.

His lips, even if it’s only in a whisper, they form the words he’s been dying to say.

“I’m in love with you, Spider-Girl.”

***

AN: Hey, everyone, thank you for reading another chapter of my spider-girl AU ❤️ I'm so sorry if this is bad writing Ice & Fire gives me zero energy to write eren x reader fics these days 😭 but I hope you still enjoyed it hehe

Tagging: 

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-jaeger @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashygremlin04 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @jaegeriess @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza

[imaginemcyt]

being childhood best friends with cc!ranboo would include...

synopsis: what it was like growing up best friends with ranboo

tw: none!

listen to: count on me by bruno mars, twin size mattress by the front bottoms, the best day by taylor swift

you probably met in your early school days, most likely first grade or so (you'd be like 6 for those of you who don't go to american public school!)

you'd become friends pretty fast, always picking each other during partner work time and playing with each other on the playground

you probably poked at worms and drew each other little pictures 😭😭😭😭😭

growing up your parents knew him and their parents knew you, so you'd always spend time at each other's houses

summers were always the best because you got to spend nearly every day together, always swimming at his house or riding your bikes around your neighborhood

when you were twelve, you got into a pretty big fight and didn't talk to each other for almost a month. it was the longest you'd ever been apart, and you both cried when you finally made up. your parents were extremely worried about the two of you

when you got to be about 13, your body changed quickly, and they were always the first to hype you up when you felt down about yourself, and they always stuck up for you if you got bullied or received unwanted attention

he became a personal guard dog for you 😭

they'd literally just intimidate people with their height and that's all it took

you were his support system when discovering his gender and sexuality and they will never ever forget that

you're genuinely their soulmate. even if not romantically, you're two halves of one whole, and you both know it deep down

you're the first person he goes to when he blows up online

you're in full support, but you want to remain completely anonymous and uninvolved

you don't want their clout, and they love you for that

everyone around you thinks you guys are dating, and you don't make a big deal out deal of denying it, just a simple "no, they're just my best friend!"

as ran continues to grow online, you remain entirely out of the public eye for a couple years

in late 2022, he introduces you to his fanbase and they love you!!

after that you still stay pretty private, only really joining for a couple streams and videos here and there

chat always asks about you

they love to tell stories about you on stream

when he moves to the uk, you cry harder than you ever have, but you understand that he sort of needs to for his career path, and you're in support

they promise to still call and text you every day

before he leaves though, you guys kinda have an "oh, duh" moment where you're like,, wait. you're an adult, too,, you could literally just go with him.....

so you do! you move to the uk with them!

your parents all see you off and you all cry together, but they know you'll be alright because you have each other to lean on

eventually you're introduced to aimsey, bill, tommy, tubbo (im delulu), freddie, and others such as wilbur, james, ash, phil, and charlie

you are an official member of cricket crew

sometimes you guys will go back to america and visit your hometown in california, driving together down your old town's streets, windows down and music up, reminiscing

they will cuddle you or hold your hand (/p) if you ever want or need them to

ceo of piggyback rides.

he knows you so well that you don't even have to ask

tesco trips. y'all never have to argue about who is going to do the shopping, you always go together because it's fun. hanging on the shopping buggy, riding it through the aisles, buying a bunch of things that you most definitely do not need

they 100% spoil you. they will buy you anything and everything, just because they wanted to. you try to do the same as much as you can, but he always wins because they have that streamer money 😔

you both have so many stories and so much blackmail on each other

and photos... my god, the pictures yall have........

birthday gifts are never serious, you always get each other gag gifts and inside joke related gifts

christmas is when you literally spoil each other

they always bring home your favorite snacks when they're out

if you're a gamer, they're introducing you to new games they found and learning how to play them with you

if you're not a gamer, he's teaching you how to play his favorites just for fun!

if they get too scared playing a horror game they'll call you into the room and make you sit with them and be scared too :P

you guys have this sixth sense, when something is wrong, you just... know. ran's upset? you don't even have to talk before you're already hugging him. you're sad? he's leaving tommy's house right now because he can't explain it, there's just a disturbance in the force

whenever anyone asks how you guys met/how long you've been friends, he always sounds so proud when he says "oh, i've known them my whole life!"

y'all are so sweet i swear to god

[hypersonic04]

New Year's Day

hello everyone! I hope you all love this one as much as I do - it doesn't really align with the song and it's vibe, but i love it nonetheless and was smiling and kicking my feet the whole time i was writing this. i also just wanted to say thank you so, so much for all of the love and support you've all given me on not only these fics, but the teacher ross blurbs I've been writing in response to your asks! i truly am so grateful and you're all so lovely. thank you thank you thank you. enjoy new year's day!

word count: 2,225

November. Arguably the worst month of the year to end a twelve-month-long relationship. Well, twelve months, three weeks and five days. 31st December, also arguably the worst day of the year to be feeling particularly sad about said relationship.

Your boots trudge in the snow as you hold the shopping bag tightly. Your scarf is slipping from your neck, bag probably splitting from the ungodly amount of cheap wine it's holding, and there's a sheen of sweat on your forehead, despite it being -3 degrees in London. No wonder he left me, you think as you recall the evening.

13th November:

"So that's it?" He stands in the doorway, hands on his hips as he huffs. He's stood tall, the plush sweater hugging his body contradictory to the harsh frown on his face.

"Ross, it was you that said we needed some time apart!"

"Because you’re the one being distant, y/n!"

"Distant? I'm the one being distant? Ross, you've been away on a tour for over six months. I know you can't help it, but I really don't think that our ‘distance’ is because of me." You bite down on your bottom lip, eyebrows tilting downwards as you fight back tears. He runs a hand through his hair.

He's right. The distance in your relationship has definitely been as issue as of late, both physically and metaphorically. You'd been staying late at the office, he'd been across the other side of the world, and it's not exactly a recipe for success. You'd fall asleep right as he called, he'd be performing when you woke up.

He swallows heavily, dark eyes looking at you pleadingly, almost. An ache presents itself in your chest, breath caught in your throat as you anxiously play with the hem of your sweater.

"Is this really it, then?" You clench your jaw, tears threatening to spill.

"I..." His voice trails off, looking away and scratching his neck. You can see his glassy eyes, the way he pulls his lips into his mouth - you can read him like a book, a really heartbreaking, sad book. "Do you want this to be it?"

"Do you?"

He doesn't answer you, but instead picks his coat up from your sofa.

This can't be real. This is Ross. You were supposed to marry Ross, you were supposed to grow old together and do all of the things you used to dream about.

You don't chase after him as he walks down the hallway, you don't try and make him stay or beg him to take you back. The sound of the door closing behind him lingers in the empty flat, almost echoing off of the walls that seem to be so impossibly close. You feel the shell of your body take a seat on the sofa, a sob filling the void.

The weeks since then had been a cycle, and a toxic one at that: too much alcohol, too many nights crying to your friends, and definitely one too many times you nearly called him. You'd unfollowed him on everything, the sight of his smile and the dimples you'd so regularly peppered kisses to sending a wave of sickness, a wave of envy, through your body. You'd taken down the polaroids, hidden his hoodie somewhere you'd never think to look, plunged your head straight first into work and work only.

Only now, it's New Years Eve, and you're forced to face the reality of your situation.

A microwave meal for two is heated up, eaten by one, cross-legged on the sofa in a pair of pyjamas that could probably win a competition for 'World's Ugliest Nightwear' (a Christmas gift from an aunt). The flat is warm, lit by candles and fairy lights on every surface, a knitted blanket pooling around you. Glasses on, hair up, and who knew half a bottle of Echo Falls could fit into one glass?! The discoveries of a single woman in her 30s were truly groundbreaking.

If your loneliness wasn't apparent enough by the constant reminders of how fun and exciting your friends' lives were via social media, the BBC One New Year's Eve countdown did the job.

"So grab that special someone and get ready for the countdown! 30 minutes to go!" Some tacky presenter wearing a far-too-sparkly jacket grins down a microphone. You scoff, rolling your eyes at the cliche and taking a glug of wine.

Your eyes trail to the window, the gentle fall of snow making you reminiscent. You wonder what you were doing this time last year - at Ross' parents, playing a board game with his family, sat in between his legs whilst he played with your hair. The thought makes you inhale sharply, eyes stinging as you avert your gaze back to the TV. You wonder where he is right now, probably an A-List party with the rest of the band, surrounded by stick insect models wearing clothes worth more than your entire wardrobe. You bet they've never eaten M&S ready-meal lasagne. You wonder whether he'd squeeze their hand in the back of a taxi, whether he'd carry them up the stairs of their flat when their heels break. You dab your cheeks with the back of your hand, catching the tears trailing down your face and sniffling. Necking back the rest of your wine, you get up from the sofa to grab the bottle from the kitchen, slippers shuffling on the wood flooring. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window, and it reminds you of how you and Ross would dance together in this very spot, how only months ago he'd kissed you against this fridge, had spun you around, giggles filling the room like the most beautiful confetti you'd ever seen. You'd recognise that laugh anywhere.

"10 minutes to go!"

The first bars of All By Myself bleed from the speaker, a singer you don't recognise butchering it already.

"Oh, give over!" You complain at the TV. Of all songs they could’ve picked for New Years.

When you were little, you always thought you'd end up like Rachel from Friends, or maybe even Angelina Jolie. Bridget Jones was never on the cards, singing the singleton's anthem into a wine glass on New Year's Eve.

If it wasn't for the banging at the door, you're convinced you would have hit the high note. You frown to yourself as you pad down the hallway, passing the clock - it's 11:53pm on New Years, who could possibly be knocking on your door? You wonder whether you've accidentally called for a Chinese takeaway in your state of sadness, or a neighbour telling you to be quiet.

You gasp when you swing the door open.

His eyes are tired, and definitely drunk, creasing in the corners as he pulls his lips inwards, brow lowered slightly. His coat is sprinkled with glitter and fallen snow, like some kind of fairy dust against the black fabric, his hair ruffled like he's ran a hand through it a million times over. He's slightly out of breath, chest heaving up and down beneath his white button-up, tongue quickly swiping between his lips.

"Ross." You breathe out, eyes quickly moving over his face. His eyes are watery, nose slightly red, and you notice how he swallows heavily when you speak. "What're you doing here? I thought you'd be at a party or something, I-"

"I was," He inhales, a slightly bashful smile on hips lips as he furrows his brow, "but I didn't want to be there."

"You didn't want to be there?" You ask, suddenly feeling naive and hyper-aware of your appearance. You purse your lips, searching his face for an answer or context.

"No," he shakes his head firmly. "I wanted to be here, and I've messed up, and..." His voice trails off as he rubs his face, huffing. "I'm sorry, you probably have people over-"

"I don't. I don't have people over." You interrupt perhaps a bit too eagerly, watching as his eyebrows raise and his lips part slightly. "Is everything alright? If you need a taxi home, I can call you one, I know the numbers for some, I'll just write them down now..." You turn back into the hallway, rummaging around in a drawer of a cabinet for a taxi firm leaflet and a pen.

He watches you for a few seconds, looking away for a moment as he contemplates the mistake he's made. None of the models or singers or actresses at any party in the world could compare to you, his y/n. The corners of his mouth threaten to curve upwards as he notices the penguin print on your pyjamas, the way you nervously push your glasses up your nose, spotting the empty bottle of wine on your coffee table in the living room further down.

"y/n, no," he starts, making you glance at him with a concerned expression on your face. "I don't want a taxi."

"You don't?" You shake your head at him with a frown.

"I want you."

"Me?"

"Mhm." A soft, airy, perhaps a little drunken laugh escapes his lips at your questions, the way your voice goes up a pitch. You nod at him, contemplating what he's saying, wondering if you've actually just fallen into a lasagne-induced coma on the sofa and this is a dream, a manifestation of your pining. "Take me back, y/n."

You inhale sharply, watching as he swallows deeply and searches for your response, almost looking through your eyes, deep into your brain.

"The biggest mistake I made was ending things. I'm an idiot, y/n/n! I'm an idiot, and I do things and don't think them through," He rubs the back of his head, shaking his head with teary eyes, "and now I'm here on your doorstep asking you to take me back, because I'm not man enough to do it without a drink, and I don't think I could've gone on any longer without coming here, and-"

Your warm lips on his are what ends his rambling. He raises his eyebrows, the kiss taking him aback for a second, before melting into it completely. You hold onto the lapels of his jacket, his hands grasping onto the fabric of your pyjama top, running upwards gently as you stumble backwards a little.

"You're not an idiot." You pull away and say breathlessly, looking up at him shaking your head. "You do think things through." He smiles down at you softly as you speak, brushing stray curls from your face and resting a hand on each cheek. "Will you take me back?"

The kiss he presses to your lips answers your question, deep and passionate and so very needed. You push the door closed with your free hand, the other around his neck, eyes closed and inhaling his aftershave deeply. The faintest smell of cigarette smoke and champagne is mixed in, but it's like walking back into a golden memory, or your smelling your favourite perfume. He walks you both backwards into the living room, and in perfect timing, too.

"...2, 1, Happy New Year!"

Fireworks sound on the television, but you're not 100% sure whether they were just in your head. You pull away from him and hold his face in your hands, and he lets the weight of his head lean into your palm.

"Happy New Year, Ross." You smile through watery eyes.

"Happy New Year, y/n."

He presses a kiss to your lips again before taking your hands in his.

"Jesus Christ, your hands are freezing!" You hold them both between yours.

"I walked here, and I didn't have gloves, so..."

"You walked here?" You gasp, holding his hands to your mouth and pressing a kiss to them. "It's snowing!"

"I know, but I thought the walk from Bond Street wasn't as far-"

"Bond Street? That’s, like, 45 minutes away! You walked for 45 minutes?!” You laugh in shock, shaking your head at him, "You've lost your mind."

"I'd have walked the Earth if I thought we were going to be okay." He shakes his head softly, looking down at you. "I've thought about you every day."

"If you'd have called, I'd have picked up."

"You blocked me." He states matter-of-factly before trying to suppress a grin, "And unfollowed me, so-"

"It was a moment of madness, I just..." You scrunch your nose us and squeeze your eyes closed as you cringe, smiling a little, "I'm sorry." You rest your head in his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head.

"I'm sorry, too. Really sorry." He huffs, "I'll never leave you again, I promise."

"Me neither," You tilt your head up at him, nodding as if to affirm your words, "Even when it's hard, and we make mistakes like this."

His arms around your waist the next morning are warm. You lift your head to look around the room, those god awful pyjamas strewn across the hall near the bathroom door, his shirt on the floor, your bra haphazardly hooked over the end of the bed - the two of you from the night before. You lay back down, turning your head to look at him - his lips are parted, slow, steady breaths leaving them. The bedroom is stone cold, the white sheets around both like a cocoon, but you've never felt warmer. You think about last night, a smile on your lips as you lay with your eyes shut.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

dragoon theorycrafting: FRESH DRAGOON LORE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN SIX YEARS (new Rising story)

SIX YEARS.

FINALLY WE ARE GIVEN A NUGGET OF DRAGOON LORE.

(I'm counting the Stormblood side story in this yes)

HERE HAVE MY STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS UNDER THE CUT

-----------

So where to begin? First off, we're setting Estinien to the side and the fact he's drinking off to the side as well. We'll get back to it, don't worry.

MOTHERFUCKING HALDRATH MAKES A GODDAMN APPEARANCE! AND WE ALSO GET A NEW DOT ON THE OVERALL TIMELINE!

Ratatoskr's death is in 545. Twenty years later puts this in 565, which means Haldrath has been witness to the gross rewriting of history that's taken place in Corethas.

(also shoutout to @mariyekos and their Haldrath -> Estinien theory let's gooo~~)

So the first Azure Dragoon's shown up, and he is not in a good way. Nidhogg's Eye (the first) has fused itself to his armor, and is now effectively corrupting Haldrath's flesh. He's beginning to have fits more frequently and intensely --moments where Nidhogg's will threatens to override his own. Haldrath has been a solitary hunter of dragons for twenty years, and he is fucking tired. His will is starting to falter.

He passes out from fighting another dragon, and wakes up a while later to find himself in a tavern. And much to his surprise and pleasure, he's among friends-- one of the original Twelve knights who survived and (wisely, I might add), fucked off once Nidhogg was robbed of his original eyes.

Ser Aureniquart de Cordillelot, who decided to open a tavern, and is insinuated in lore to have been the founder of the Forgotten Knight. It's his daughter Berteline who found Haldrath, and she's been raised on stories of him as the dragonslayer. She wishes to be a dragoon like him too!

Berteline however, admits that she didn't find Haldrath on her own, that a voice that sounded like 'storm winds' led her to him. Haldrath, who has recognized that Berteline has drive and passion, realizes that the young woman's been lured by Nidhogg's eye.

(And here is when we enter the territory of fuckery)

At this point, Haldrath makes a choice. He's doing this on the fly, but also probably had been stewing on his thoughts for a while. He's tired. On his last legs. This is probably not how he wanted to do it, but he's got no choice. And Halone seems to have merciful enough to let him be in a safe and warm environment among friends.

Haldrath tells Berteline that she's heard Nidhogg's voice, that the Eye seeks out those who desire power. That it's fused to him, that it's corrupting him, and he is in danger of becoming the elder wrym's thrall. And if that happens, he will be a mighty threat to Ishgard, which is still finding its feet. He looks Aureniquart in the eye and asks that his old friend, his brother knight, kill him before that happens.

Aureniquart refuses to pick up arms against Haldrath.

(side note: I'm wondering if Aureniquart was possibly Haldrath's First Knight/general 2IC.)

Haldrath, before the Eye tries for the final time to take him, also officially recognizes Berteline as the new bearer of the evil orb and names her his full successor.

Berteline de Cordillelot is now charged as the second Azure Dragoon. We won't have another named Azure Dragoon show up until 761, when Valeroyant fends off Nidhogg. (Valeroyant dies two years later in 763).

We are also given confirmation that Azure Dragoons essentially are on a limited lifespan once they receive the Eye. This possibly gives new meaning to this:

When searched on Google, score is equal to twenty years. Two score and ten equals 50 years. Ere means 'before'.

Basically? 'Your ass will be dead before you turn fifty.'

Which in the story, makes sense because:

Aureniquart has aged. It's possible that by this time, he and Haldrath were in their mid-40s, if they were in their 20's back in 545.

Becoming the Azure Dragoon is a death sentence. And now your mileage is gonna vary, because not everyone's gonna have the same mindset regarding power and duty and protection of Ishgard. We have the door open for some high level shenanigary here! An Azure Dragoon who may not have wanted to pick a successor? An Azure Dragoon who might have been forced into the job?

(No no we're not discussing Alberic don't @ me I'm typing this out on my phone and it's taking me forever WE WILL POKE AT HIM LATER)

Anyroad.

Haldrath feels one final fit coming on, and knows this is the one that he can't fight against. Nidhogg will claim him. He needs to die. He realizes almost too late that Aureniquart can't kill him, because of the bond of love/friendship/battle blood/loyalty to my liege and he's cursing him to suffer another sin. But Berteline steps up to the plate, puts her hands on the spear, and helps her father perform the mercy kill.

Shoutout to @autumnslance for this spot on commentary on THAT:

Aureniquart: Perma-traumatized now. Man gets like twenty years of peace and then it just gets blown outta the water. Had to kill your leige-lord as he lay dying on your floor, under your roof, violation of sanctuary and hospitality and your sworn oath to protect him, to spend your life before his own so he could be safe...

What?

Anyroad. We have one final interesting tidbit.

This...is interesting. Sovereignty has various meanings, but the one that stood out the most to me from Merriam-Webster was 'freedom from external control'. There was also 'supreme power over a body politic', 'controlling influence' and then 'one who is sovereign, especially: an autonomous state'

It's said in lore Nidhogg was dismissive of mankind. And at that point can you blame him? He's lost three siblings to Allag, his other brother's lost his damn mind mooning over some elezen before consensually participating in voreplay, and his sister drank ALL the mortal Kool-Aid.

Oh and baby brother? Is hiding somewhere.

That also possibly has Ascian fuckery hiding somewhere in the depths. What exactly, I don't know what to say or imply. But a good friend of mine pointed out that Nidhogg's attitude towards humans could have been a rather toxic ingredient that could have maybe been added to a growing resentment of dragonkind that had been festering. Maybe old grudges that had been settled by Shiva's sacrifice were coming back from the dead. Maybe mankind was growing too much in the region and was straining natural resources.

We don't know.

Last but not least, Estinien. Nevermind that this man decided to hit up a bottle of Raz-at-Han alchemist-made liquor.

Estinien. Pls.

However there is real world historical context for alcoholic spirits being used to help a body and mind relax so that one can see visions/perform magic. And as I stated one time, we don't know fully about all the changes Estinien has undergone ever since absorbing the remnants of Nidhogg's essence. This could be a random fluke--brought on by unpredictable draconic magic mixing with whatever unholy abomination against the gods concoction this particular Hannish alchemist thought to brew.

(listen Raz-at-Han alchemists fear neither gods, nor man, nor dragons, nor aliens. YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT)

But it's definitely interesting to see more of a solid connection between the first and the last Azure Dragoon. Especially since Haldrath hasn't shown up in anything dragoon connected since the level 50 questline, in which he helps you violently snap Estinien out of a Nidhogg-induced frenzy.

Hoping this story leads us to more dragoon stuff, especially considering the class is getting a revamp in 7.0!

[leighsartworks216]

Horn Care

Wyll Ravengard x male!OC

I have had this fic in the works for a while. It's just a little self-indulgent story of my dnd bard, Romero, with Wyll, with some stuff about his family and whatnot

I would love to answer any questions y'all may have about Romero's family because I love them sm

Dedicated to both @tripleyeeet and @shenanigans-and-imagines for listening to me ramble about these idiots <333

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and food, possibly OOC

Word Count: 1,266

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Romero diligently rubbed the oil over Wyll’s horns, skillfully getting within every groove and crevice. Wyll holds the bottle of high-grade horn oil (though he’s not sure where exactly the bard procured it from), squirting extra in the bard’s hand whenever he asks for more.

Wyll can’t believe for one second this is his first time doing this. And yet, the who for is the biggest question. He wonders if it was learned from caring for past lovers, or even friends who needed an extra hand. It shocks Wyll just how truly little he knows about the person leading them; the person he’s decided to court - properly, if he’s ever given the chance.

“I can feel you thinking,” Romero teases. He’s running his fingers along the undersides of the horns, feeling to ensure he got every spot. “Anything you want to share?”

“I can’t help noticing your distinct lack of horns. How do you know how to do this? Something you picked up on your travels?”

He chuckles. “No. I’ve been doing this since I was little.” Once he’s certain the horns have been fully taken care of, he rounds the stool Wyll sits on, borrowed from Astarion (with promises of two carafes of good wine. A hefty price for one little stool, but worth it, he thinks). He drops the bottle of oil, closed securely, into his pack and plops down on the floor of the tent, leaning back against his arms. “One of my parents, Amrus, is a tiefling. I was always fascinated with his horns. He’d pick me up on his shoulders and carry me around, and I’d hold on and steer him around.”

Wyll could almost picture it. A little boy with unruly hair motioning to be picked up, coming up with imaginative stories, pretending to be riding a dragon. He couldn’t imagine much changed in the years leading up to this moment.

“Well, he adopted some tieflings, too. Wild, little things. And we’re a big, busy family, so I offered to help out. As their horns came in, I took care of them, until they were old enough to learn how to themselves.” Romero smiled fondly, remembering his childhood with nostalgia. He could tell stories for hours of mischief he got up to, fighting with his siblings, whacking people with sticks when they disrespected any of his family. “You get quite good at it when you do it for years.”

“It’s an admirable skill to have, if only for how it was learned. Its uses are a bit… limited.”

“Unless I happen to be with someone in possession of horns,” the bard says, smirking up at the warlock. “Results of a deal with a devil or otherwise.”

–

“If you don’t mind my prying, how many parents do you have? You mention them a lot.”

The moon casts them in a cool glow. Light bounces off Wyll’s horns. The open amusement of the bard is perfectly accentuated, as though the shadows pull back just so he can be admired.

“Ah, plenty. Let’s see, are we counting all of them, or just the ones my father is married to?”

Wyll chuckles. “All of them, to start.”

Romero begins ticking off fingers, listing names as he went in a low murmur. He didn’t stop even after he ran out of fingers. “Twelve, technically.” Wyll gaped at him.

“Twelve parents?! How do you keep them all straight?”

“Well, not all of them live with us at one time. I only grew up around six of them; the other four live elsewhere, traveling or providing shelter to any of us kids who happen to wander in their areas. The last two have passed - and the mindflayer only counts as a parent because of my father’s insistence.”

“A mindflayer?!” He pushed himself up so he could gape down at his partner. “Your father was with one of those rubber-skinned Ilithids?!”

“Eh, it’s one of his stranger exploits.” Romero smirked, as though he’d gone through this exact bewilderment before. Though, Wyll supposes he must’ve done. “You haven’t even asked how many siblings I have.”

“I can’t begin to fathom.” He sighed, mentally preparing himself. “How many?”

Romero looks far too eager to share the number. “Eighteen.”

“How do you all fit in that house?!”

“My father and some of my parents help him build new additions. You should see it - it’s about as chaotic as the people who live in it.”

He gestured grandly, hands telling the story as much as his words. Wyll could picture him standing on a table in a tavern, spinning wild tales to enraptured guests all night long. It was like a fire lit in his eye. A spring added itself into his every motion.

“It reaches as high as any palace, built of hand-hewn planks and sun-dried bricks. The thundering of stairs as we all come racing down for Pimbul’s cooking - she’s the best damn cook, and he always makes plenty of extra. Laughter and music pouring out of every window, every balcony, every door - the sound of our love uncontainable.” He sighed wistfully, hands falling back at his side. “As soon as this is over, I’m headed straight back. I’ve been gone for too long.”

Wyll smiled. Romero poured affection for his family any time they came up, which was surprisingly often. An eight-pointed star on his chest denoted himself as a child of the famous Gerhart Tulb, adventurer and well-known flirt. Any time they weren’t in armor, his shirt was opened to proudly display the tattoo. Which meant everywhere they weren’t fighting, there was someone who recognized it. He always used it as an opportunity to relay the tales his father had told of his own adventures, and one’s he’d picked up from his siblings along the road. It was admirable.

“How long have you been away?” he asks as he lays back down. Though, his eyes don’t stray from him, even as the stars glimmer and flicker, begging for his attention.

Romero sighs and turns onto his side. “Almost a year. I know that’s not a very long time,” he offers Wyll a sympathetic smile, “I just miss everyone so much.”

“You’ll have a lot to share when you see them again.” Wyll rolls over as well, though his horns make it difficult to actually be comfortable. They were nice and shiny from his partner’s careful hands, but they were still a damned nuisance. “Grandiose tales of tadpoles and curses, of love and loss. The perfect story.”

“A story’s only as good as the person telling it.” He frowned, reaching out to hesitantly take Wyll’s hand. Calluses roughened his fingertips from his lute. Even more covered his palm from battles hard fought. “I don’t know how this story will end,” he begins slowly, almost a whisper, “but if–” He squeezes Wyll’s hand. “-- when we win, I wanted to bring you back with me. All of you, if I can. I know it’s a lot to ask, to drag all of you back on the road, but-”

Wyll squeezed his hand with a bright smile. “We’d all be glad to meet them. I can only imagine how a reunion with a family of bards must be.”

Romero grinned, sitting up and eagerly launching into another story. Wild descriptions of dancing and singing and drinking that lasted for an entire week. About a dance that all the kids did for the parents involving swords and drums. Fireworks, illusions, and so, so much more. Wyll could almost picture it all. And even crazier: he could almost picture himself there at Romero’s side.

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 王奕翔

summary : jihye has been in an unrequited love with nicholas since seven years old. come one random february day of their senior year, and she confesses for the sake of her sanity

genre : fluff, non-idol!nicholas x original character, childhood-friends to lovers tws : language, weird plot (idk either), kiss author notes : scarce &team content on this app word count : 3.7k

a sigh escaped the girl's mouth, as she readjusted the bag over her shoulders. the winter air was just starting to become bearable once again, with spring on its way. however, the light breeze still made the girl bury her face into the oversized scarf wrapped around her neck, as if she was a turtle threatening to hide in its shell.

"you know," a voice caught her attention as she pulled the sleeves down over her mitten-less hands, "you don't have to wait here every morning for me."

into view came her bestfriend of almost twelve years, nicholas. his sharp eyes looked down at her, before he took the corners of her coat-collar and pulled them closer than they already were, jolting her body forward. she yelped in protest, grabbing onto the man’s elbows to steady herself. but, underneath her skin, roses bloomed a pasty red, followed by goosebumps at his contact.

to everyone at the seoul highschool the two attended, they were the inseparable pair. fate had always been on their side, putting the two in the same class every year, so their schedules would align, ultimately making the two grow closer than they otherwise would have solely being neighbors.

"and risk losing my position in the hierarchy," she replied, looking him up and down, studying the way his black-hair was perfectly parted in the trendy curtain-bang that recent kpop idols had made resurface. "i'd rather drop out of school."

"you'd rather do that than even go in the first place, it's not much of a threat."

her eyes narrowed playfully, and he took her side, "very funny, nicho."

the blush deepened under his gaze, though she was prepared to fight the claim with just being cold. though, even if he noticed every time, he never said anything, and jihye couldn’t tell if it relived her or annoyed her more.

the peaceful walk to school was lined with slightly frosty trees and the sing-song chirping of the remaining city birds. barely any cars were out this early in the day, most parked at their owners occupations or residences still. it was only about to be seven forty-five, the sun just beginning to rise and replace the dim moonlight of dawn.

a fondness overcame the girl as a gust of chilly air brushed between the pair. she honestly wanted to daydream they were the leads in a romantic movie though, she knew he wasn't thinking the same.

jihye looked over to nicholas, who was removing one of the airpods he'd put in just before they started their punctual walk to school.

"jihye," he stated, audibly clicking the top back on the case. he then shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and raised his shoulders in an attempt to conserve body-heat, "can i tell you something?"

"what if i said no?" but, her heart picked up pace in anticipation.

he laughed, "you wouldn't dare."

"then why did you ask?"

"because, it's the nice thing to do," he started, taking a pause to seemingly collect his thoughts, "and besides, maybe you would say no one of these days." though, he had no idea that she’d never in a million years say that word to him.

jihye felt her phone vibrate inside her pocket, cursing whoever it was for ruining his moment. she weaved through her coffee-colored trench-coat until the piece of machinery touched her fingertips.

nicholas took a step back, metaphorically, as he heard the familiar ringtone literally buzz straight to his ears. he waited for the girl to pull it out, looking at the contact that said grandma, embellished with a white heart. she gave him an apologetic but irritated smile, and brought the phone to her ear.

"no, i left with nicho already — like every morning." he couldn't make out the replies from the mumbling on the other end, only hearing what jihye said and trying to piece the rest together. "grandma, i leave every morning at the same time. i can't turn around now, i’ll see you after school... yes, yes. i'll pick up your medication on my way."

jihye hung up the phone with another deep-sigh after spewing i love you's down it a couple of times. then it made its way back into her coat, and she looked at nicholas, apologizing for the interruption and telling him to continue.

per contra of his desires, by the time he was about to begin again, the stone-building came into view. the bustling of teenagers running past, and getting ready for class being too much of a distraction to keep his mind on-track. he told her he would just wait until after school, because it, quote-on-quote, wasn't that important but, jihye’s heart raced on still.

the cliché chatter of the school corridor filled the pair's ears, and eventually jihye broke from her other-half and stopped by her friend’s locker before they’d make their way to their respective classes.

actually, jihye wasn't even sure if her athlete friend would show up to school today; mostly because the coach of her fencing team had made a deal with the principal some time back, and now she didn't have to attend class if she keeps her rank above (or, really, below) ten.

it was always a gamble, but eventually she saw the naturally crimson-cheeked girl skip to put her things away.

"jihye!" she was always awfully cheery — deemed as so by her peers — a bright smile plastered to her features, "what are you doing here?"

"an i not allowed to see you, mijoo?" jihye replied, resting her arm against the blue-painted metal, "we're friends, and this is the first time you’ve been here all week."

"it's only wednesday!"

jihye pouted her lips, "i'm also not allowed to miss you?"

"i guess i am better than spending every waking second with nicholas."

jihye shied away from her friend. the image of him flashing through her mind like a picture book written only for her, "i do not spend every second with him."

"damn near," she retorted jokingly, 'if i didn't know any better i'd think you guys were already dating." instinctively, jihye's hand shot out and hit her friend, who proceeded to playfully swat back until they were both giggling, “honestly, just make out already.”

"i'd rather bite his lips off." the girl exchanged a knowing-glance as her reply, shutting the locker loudly, though nothing much was heard over the sounds from the rest of the hall, "i've known him for too long… that thought is, i don't know -- "

she hummed in dissatisfaction, “that's kinky, jihye." she joked, turning and mirroring her lean against the locker, "you probably know him better than anyone, if anything, wouldn't it only make sense that he’d eventually fall in love with you? there's no way he hasn't seen the hearts you shoot at him with every glance."

it was true, she probably knew him better than anyone, but it was also a two-way street because no one knew jihye the way nicholas could claim he did. so, it would make sense, however jihye would never admit to being the juliet to his unrequited-romeo.

"i don’t want it to ruin our friendship," she sighed out in reply, “what if we break up? besides, he probably likes someone else. i’m just being delusional, mijoo — tell me i am.”

"you know, i’d never pass up that opportunity and, i may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one — except that one time… or that other time." mijoo threw her hands out to cut herself off, smirking, “besides the point! i'm not blind! from an outside perspective, i see the longing looks.”

jihye rolled her eyes, exchanging her goodbye's instead of arguments and began to walk away. mijoo continued spewing out more to the back of the girl’s head. "do something before someone else does! and, someone else will, jihye!"

the words rang in the back of her head, echoing like a bad rumor. it's something jihye has always known would happen: nicholas would get a girlfriend, a wife, a life — without her. though they had promised to marry each other under the pillow-fort the two had messily made at the age of seven. they were almost nineteen now. almost adults now. the reality was that nothing as innocent as that would last forever, and it will break her little seven-year-old-heart into pieces once faced with the arch of that bridge.

throughout the day, she'd not forgotten about mijoo's comments, or nicholas' awaited confession, despite her attempt to have her focus locked on the midterms that were coming up quickly. jihye was the third best in her class, which didn’t go hand in hand with her hatred for school, but she planned on moving up a place or two with this coming exam season.

on the contrary nicholas wasn't top or last, only average in comparison to the girl his name is constantly attached to. however, he still never had to try very hard to impress the people — mostly women — he'd come across. he never dated any of them, but his looks were enough for them to instantly be infatuated, whereas his manners made the older folk swoon. all around, people deemed the man straight out of a drama they swear they've already seen before.

after school had let out, jihye made her way from the building. walking across the street to quietly wait until nicholas met her on the bench. she hugged the coat around her body, making sure the bottom half laid over her tights-covered legs. she watched the door open and close a couple of times, every one making her heart pick up an irregular pattern.

eventually, nicholas came hustling out the door, it swinging against and testing the hinges strength. jihye cringed as the boy carelessly ran over the frosted pavement, only stopping once he reached the red-walking-sign at the edge of the car-filled street.

he waved stupidly at the girl, as if she hadn't noticed him running towards her quickly. the action caused jihye to smile like a dork in return, as she was literally not mentally capable of holding it back.

the squeak of breaks audibly cued the slowing of the cars, and nicholas bounced eagerly for his right to cross. the signal then changed to green, and he practically jumped from one end of the crosswalk to the other. her anxiety and heart rate rose further when the boy slipped, catching his balance before he had a chance to become acquainted with the floor.

he laughed, stumbling the rest of the way and rocking her to the side slightly when he harshly sat next to her. she looked to him annoyed, but reality was that she relieved he hadn't actually fallen.

"you're gonna kill me one of these days," she held the back of her neck jokingly, scolding the man who happened to be older than her by a couple of months, "please, be careful."

"it's not my fault that i'm excited to see you." he sulked in her direction, nudging her shoulder with his own, "you missed me too, don't lie."

too?

jihye shook her head, turning her nose to the air in protest. he whined lowly in annoyance, and leaned into the side of her face. she held her breath, the feeling of his against her skin instilling shivers down her spine. she awaited his next move, him planting a light kiss on the side of her cheek in retaliation. he's done it before, and usually she could keep the roses at bay, but the words mijoo had said came rushing back like a midsummer tide. her face instantly got hot at the thought and she shied away, hiding her features into the scarf she was now more than glad she wore this morning.

jihye choked the feeling back, causing a lump in her throat and a faster heart rate that made her nauseous. she got from the bench abruptly, leaving the man with a confused expression.

"i almost forgot," she played it off, hoping her voice sounded as smooth to him as it did in her own ears. "my grandmother's medication. go ahead without me, nicho. i'll meet up with you later to study."

nicholas' eyebrows rose, "i'll just walk with you, i wasn't going to study anyways."

she knew it was useless to try and fight with the man who had no regard — idea — of her desire to clear her head from his previous behavior. he had his own ideals and morals. she knew full-well that he would never really allow her to walk alone, despite his implication this morning for her to do just that.

the inside of her cheek found the undersides of her molars, and she ground down slightly, trying to suppress another grin.

"fine, let's go fast."

"can we get something to eat?"

she huffed, looking up to the man who was dead-serious. "you're hungry? did you skip lunch again?"

"you're not?" he voiced in disbelief, "well, in that case, neither a — ”

a growing guilt inside her cut him off, "get something for my grandmother too."

he looked off as he pondered for a bit, "i already was." he stated matter-of-factly, "i'll also get something for you, jihye. it's a date."

said girl stumbled, blinking like a fish a few times. her throat was dry, and she questioned why her palms started sweating in the low temperatures of early february.

she brushed it off as mijoo getting into her head, convincing her of something that was so fairytale-like that it wouldn't ever become a reality outside of a story books she’d read as a kid.

her mouth fell open, contorting into a mock-disgusted face, "don't ever say that shit to me again. ew, i don't wanna imagine you like that."

she lied. that’s all she ever catches herself doing.

he smirked, pausing his steps as she continued forward, "why not?" jihye's body jolted in shock, and she stopped dead in her tracks. hesitantly, she turned to face him, but wouldn't meet his eyes no matter how hard he bore his own into her.

"if you don't want to imagine me like that, they why were you blushing? why won't you look at me now?"

her stomach twisted with his words. truthfully, she has seen him in that light for a long time — and, he looked beautiful. too beautiful. he always captured her attention, finding a way to consume her thoughts until they all basically belonged to him.

rent-free was an understatement.

"do you secretly hate me?" he joked, beginning to walk again, like he hadn't just flustered his bestfriend. “we’ve been together for twelve years and you’re only going to tell me now that you actually despise my presence.”

maybe he didn’t mean what he said to her at seven years old, but it was hard to forget in jihye’s mind. and, an innocent crush was the outcome; but, jihye and everyone knew it would be cliché for the two to end up together, so in middle school she swallowed it down until eventually she could look at him the same every day. only allowing her mind to, more than occasionally, flutter into a daydream or three.

her drowning-fondness for him faded into the background noise, and with much convincing the butterflies retreated. she felt a chill run up her body, and hugged her arms around herself before walking quickly to catch up with him.

“i do hate your presence — hate for you to find out this way, nicho.” she shrugged.

“yet, you still use that nickname.” he cooed, slowing his speed to match jihye’s subconsciously, “you love me.”

“you should be honored i even tolerate you, love is a stretch.”

jihye swallowed thickly before pushing on with confident steps, a march he tried to keep up with. she questioned the reality of the situation, the reality of the feelings that grew deeper since this morning — and every morning — she tried to calculate the probability and, the bittersweet-truth laced her own mind, wrapping around her constricted heart.

“jihye,” nicholas had stopped again, rippling into effect as she did too. he stared down at her through eyes that she pretended shot hearts her way, “i never got to tell you that thing this morning.”

she let her arms fall to her sides, the sleeves dangling over her oddly-warm hands. another breeze passed between them, nicholas veering every-so-slightly closer to the girl.

it was now nearing six-thirty, the sun slowly beginning to lower to allow room for its soulmate to shine. the streetlights were seconds from their synced illumination.

“what is it?”

he stared for a while, looking right through her when all she wanted was for him to be looking right at her. then, her heart picked another irregular pace once she realized the vicinity they happened to be in. her mind wanted to take a step back but, her heart had stronger control.

her emotions were overwhelming her, and she hated feeling so out of synch with herself. she knew that he jokingly flirted, knowing or not, the effect he had over her. however, she always knew how to overcome it… until this damned day.

maybe she hadn’t realized how badly she had fallen for him, in between calling him her bestfriend and pretending to be over him.

but the tide was strong, and she feared going down with the ship more than anything.

their friendship, in jihye’s eyes, was the most important thing on her list of priorities. she didn’t want to ripple it — or worse, rip it to shreds. she wasn’t sure how to live without him, and truthfully, she never wanted to learn.

it was an ultimatum she feared leaning too far to either side on. so, until the day he hypothetically fessed up, she was convinced she had to swallow her own heart-wrenching ache for him.

well, she was trying to, at least.

he opened his mouth a few seconds before any words even came out, “never mind.” he finally said. and, to say the least, if drove jihye up the nearest wall, “it’s not important. i don’t even really remember.”

she scoffed, her prior strength blowing away with the breeze, earning an amused look from her best friend, "are you serious right now? don't do that again, nicho."

"do what?" he asked innocently, halfway between a smirk and a smile on his lips.

"leave me hanging, you literally have no excuse this time." her arms motioned around them, "there's no one here to interrupt you."

"why are you getting upset with me, jihye? let's just go get your grandmother's medicine and go study."

she grumbled, "i'm not upset."

"you are." he said plainly, and even if it was true what jihye said, his action were only furthering the opposite. "you must actually hate me."

"stop saying that."

"why? it was about time honestly, we've been together for twelve years." he backed up a little, causing jihye to want to follow.

he said it again, the word lingering her mind; together.

"if i'm annoying you can just say that, you've never had a problem voicing your thoughts before."

she bit her lip, not knowing how to form a reply when he stared so confidently at her. it was getting harder to believe he was oblivious to her — her feelings for him.

he grabbed her hand, pushing his fingers to slot between her and pulled her along the sidewalk with him. "then, if that's not it, what's wrong?" he asked as the pair rounded a corner.

jihye felt a nausea creep up her throat, and honestly she didn't know if she could be diagnosed with love-sickness or heartbreak. she were hit with a sense of anticipation, or maybe it was adrenaline, she weren't really sure. her vision was blurring with the shadows the moon casted and the frustration-tears that threaten to fall just as hard as she did all those years ago.

it was childish to keep running inside this dark tunnel. and whether, at the end, it be hand in hand or not she couldn't keep up the act.

she had to stop.

so, jihye did. she dropped his hand, and stopped walking. she stood with your her down, but, no longer to hide the blush. nicholas stopped at the moment he lost contact, feeling his heart drop into his stomach.

she was admitting defeat, surrendering, raising the white flag.

"nicho..." he walked up to her, his eyebrows knitted together with concern but before he had a chance to speak. his hands smoothly fit against jihye's cheeks, moving her face up to look him in the eyes. she took a shaky breath, continued and cut the life-support, "i like you."

nicholas didn't drop her face, like she feared. he didn't back up and somewhere deep-down she hoped it was a confession he'd just as desperately been holding back all day.

“jihye…” he practically mocked, deja-vu clouding her, “you have no idea how long i’ve held back from you. i like so you much.”

the girl felt a little mad at yourself for having waited this long, if all he was going to say was what she’s convinced herself he never would.

he was so close to her now, breaths practically morphed into one. she could finally let him fill her senses without having to feel bad about it.

“i was honestly not sure if you were just blushing because i was a guy flirting with you or — “

their eyes met, jihye’s abrupt change making him stop speaking and look at her with another hint of concern.

“nicho, please stop talking and finally kiss me.”

his grip on her skin tightened just a little as he whispered against her parted lips, “fuck, okay.” and then, as if fireworks went off, they finally went from bestfriends to something more — something that made that little girl inside jihye hopeful of the future.

a future where she got to call him, hers.

she could practically hear the groan from mijoo, who would be secretly happy she could arise her front row seat to their movie. she wasn’t even fully convinced the athlete wouldn’t clap as the credits played.

jihye pulled nicholas closer without protest. she vowed that because she’s fucked up the friendship there was no way she could physically let him go. she was bonded to him, she has been for twelve years, and she prayed for twelve more — and then twelve more.

their tether was strong, and it was cliché that they ended up falling for each other.

yet, all that seemed like a thought for another time.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

[golden-kingdom]

And the Season Feels New to Me Because You're Here - Part 2

Written for the 12 Days of Rowaelin: First Holiday Season Together (@rowaelinscourt)

Summary: A month before Christmas, rich hotel heiress Aelin Ashryver Galathynius is running away from her future after a fight with her father and hides at a resort in the Staghorn Mountains. When she has a ski accident and hits her head, she loses her memory and nobody knows who she is. Rowan Whitethorn is a widower who owns a small inn in town and father to 6-year-old Thalia. When, after much insistence from his daughter, Rowan offers Aelin a place to stay, the two have to spend time together against their will. Rowan cannot stand spoiled and self-centered Aelin, and Aelin hates how cold and guarded Rowan is. Thalia thinks it would take a Christmas miracle for them to finally get along.

Inspired by Falling for Christmas (2022)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Some language

Note: This chapter was heavily inspired by the movie, but I promise the rest of the story will not be as similar.

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Aelin woke up and stretched out. She reached for her phone on her bedside table like every morning. She opened her eyes to check the time, but realized she was holding a TV remote instead. What the hell? She looked around and didn’t recognize the room she was in. It was modest and simple, far from the luxury she usually preferred. She was laying in a double bed which was far too small for her taste. The sheets were a bit scratchy and the mattress was way too firm. Where was she? 

Then, it all came back to her. The accident, the hospital, the amnesia, Rowan and Thalia… She realized this wasn’t a bad dream; this was all real. She sat up in bed and put her face in her hands, sighing deeply. She stayed there for a few minutes, wallowing in self-pity. Then she forced herself to get up and get dressed. She picked the least ugly sweater out of the pile and found some pants that kind of fit her. She really needed new clothes she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. She washed her face and brushed her hair, groaning about the lack of skincare and make up in the bathroom. She put her long golden hair in a high ponytail and figured this was the best she could do with what she had.

She checked the time on the clock and realized it was already 10:30am. She had slept more than twelve hours. Fortunately, her headache from yesterday was gone and she felt overall better physically. Her stomach grumbled. She left her room to look for Rowan.

She found him quickly. He was at the reception desk with two guests. She waited until he was done and walked over to him.

"Well, look who decided to show up. Did you sleep well?" he said as he noticed her.

"I would like to remember you I had a terrible accident yesterday and the doctor said rest would help me recover faster," she defended herself. "But if you really want to know, no, I didn’t sleep well. The bed is uncomfortable."

He mumbled something she couldn’t hear and gave her an annoyed look. He went back to working on his computer, ignoring her. She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention again.

"I’m hungry," she declared. "Could you make me breakfast?"

"Breakfast is served until 9:30am. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to make it yourself or wait until lunch," he replied, not even bothering to look up from the screen.

When he noticed she wasn’t moving, he remembered she didn’t know where the kitchen was.

"Come, I’ll show you where the kitchen is," he said as he left his desk and walked towards the back.

She followed him through a door that led to a room with a few tables made of wood covered with checkered tablecloths.

"This is the dining room," he explained.

Then he walked through another door to his right.

"And here’s the kitchen."

The kitchen was pretty small, but well furnished. There was a large opening in the wall, and you could see the dining room through it. They heard Thalia arrive and she sat at the bar in the dining room, across the kitchen counter. She didn’t have school today because of yesterday’s events, but she would have to go back tomorrow.

"Celaena!" she greeted Aelin with a big smile.

She smiled back and waved at the young girl. Then she went about making breakfast. If only she could figure out how to turn on this damn stove. She groaned.

"Here, that’s how you turn the stove on," explained Rowan, doing it for her.

She mumbled an embarrassed thank you. She went to the fridge and took out two eggs. She walked back to the stove and cracked them open in the pan. Although it was more like crashing them. Bits of the shell were mixed with the eggs.

"Have you ever even cooked eggs before? You’re destroying them," Rowan said, exasperated by her incompetence.

Aelin turned red. She felt like an idiot, and she was infuriated by his tone.

"Never mind, I’ll do it for you," he said as he took her place in front of the stove and removed the bits of shell from the pan. "Go sit with Thalia. Watch and learn."

Aelin left the kitchen and went on the other side to sit at the bar. She watched Rowan move around the kitchen with the skills of someone with years of practice. As the eggs cooked, he went to get bacon from the fridge. He put it in a frying pan on the stove. When everything was cooked, he served a plate and put it in front of Aelin. She looked down at the food and frowned.

"I don’t eat bacon," Aelin said.

"What? Bacon is so good!" Thalia exclaimed. "Have you tried it before?"

"I don’t know," Aelin admitted.

"How can you know you don’t like bacon if you don’t remember anything?" asked Rowan pointedly.

Thalia looked up at her with an expectant and encouraging look, so she took a bite and gave it a try. The girl was right, it was delicious.

"It’s delicious!" she said as she took another bite and then another. She hummed in contentment.

Thalia laughed good-naturedly and Rowan rolled his eyes.

"Were there any call asking for me this morning?" she asked as she was eating.

"I’m afraid not," he replied, feeling sorry for her all of the sudden.

"I don’t understand why no one is looking for me," she uttered in a sad voice.

"Were you able to remember anything?" Rowan asked.

"No, but the doctor said if I did normal things, my memory might come back."

"Well, we definitely could use some help around here," he said.

"Like what?" she inquired, unsure.

"Just simple chores around the lodge, nothing too difficult."

"Alright, I guess. If there’s a chance it can help me remember," she conceded.

…

They were standing in one of the guest rooms of the lodge. Rowan had told Aelin to follow him after she was done eating, and here they were, staring at an unmade bed.

"So, this should be simple enough. I want you to undo the bed and remake it," he explained as he handed her fresh sheets and pillowcases. "You think you can manage?"

"Of course, I can. I’m not a child," she said.

"Then I’ll leave you to it. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll be in the next room."

He left her to her own device, and she started undoing the bed. She had no memory of ever doing this, but the doctor said she should remember how to do normal things. When she had removed the dirty sheets and pillowcases, she put them in a pile on the floor. She grabbed the new fitted sheet and tried to figure out how she should go about putting it on the bed. She got onto the bed and pulled one corner of the sheet and tucked it under the bed. She went to grab the opposite corner of the sheet and pulled it, but the corner she had already tucked under the bed got undone. She groaned and tried again. And again. It wasn’t working. There had to be something wrong with this fitted sheet; it couldn’t be that hard. After another failed attempt, she let out a small scream of frustration.

Rowan appeared in the doorway to see what was happening and chuckled when he saw the state of the bed. She gave him an annoyed look.

"There’s something wrong with this sheet. It won’t stay put," she said.

He walked over to the bed and took the sheet from her. In a minute, he had tucked all four corners properly under the bed.

"Have you actually ever made a bed?" he asked her.

"I don’t think so…" she replied, embarrassed.

He sighed, but he gave her a small encouraging smile.

"Let’s try something else," he told her.

He left to grab some stuff to clean the bathroom in a closet and then came back. He motioned for her to follow him inside the bathroom adjacent to the room. She made a disgusted face but entered anyway.

"You can clean the sink and the shower with this product. This one is for the mirror. And this is to wash the toilet," he explained.

She made a note of his instructions in her head. He went back to what he was doing, and she was left alone in the bathroom. She took a deep breath and went to work.

Twenty minutes later, she was deep into cleaning the bathroom. Everything was going well so far. She only had the toilet left to clean. She pushed aside her revulsion for the task and grabbed what Rowan had told her was a toilet brush. She poured the cleaner inside and started scrubbing. She put the brush down the lip and into the drain to clean it, but it got stuck. She tried pulling it out, but it wasn’t budging. 

"Damn it."

She pulled on the brush with all her force and it finally came out, but apparently it broke something inside the toilet because water came gushing out, hitting her in the face. She stepped back in shock and screamed. There was water everywhere and the toilet was still spurting more. Rowan ran into the bathroom and looked at the scene with horror and shock.

"What the hell did you do?" he exclaimed, reaching for the valve to shut off the water. Water finally stopped gushing out. He looked around the bathroom that was now flooded in dismay.

"I’m so sorry," said Aelin, tears pooling in her eyes. "I didn’t mean to, I swear. The brush got stuck and I pulled hard and then water started spurting out of the toilet and I didn’t know what to do. I’m really sorry."

Rowan looked furious. She was expecting him to scream at her, but he breathed in and out, pinching the bridge of his nose, and said: "Just- just go take a shower and change your clothes, I’ll take it from there. And for the love of gods don’t touch anything else."

Aelin sniffled loudly and exited the bathroom, not looking back at the mess she had made.

She went back to her room, removed her wet clothes, and took a long warm shower to clean off everything. When she got out, she picked some new clothes and got dressed. She grabbed her dirty clothes and walked to where she knew was a laundry room. She put her clothes inside the machine, poured some detergent and closed the lid. She made sure to click on the right buttons.

She went back to her room to look for a hairdryer but couldn’t find any. She decided to ask Thalia, not wanting to bother Rowan any more. She went to the girl’s room and found her playing quietly with her dolls on her bed.

"Hey Thalia. Do you know where I could find a hairdryer?" Aelin asked.

Thalia looked up at her, a smile on her face as always.

"You can use the one daddy dries my hair with. Sharing is caring," replied the girl.

She hopped off the bed and led her to a bathroom that must be hers and Rowan’s. She pointed to a cabinet and Aelin found a hairdryer inside. She thanked Thalia, who went back into her room.

After she had dried her hair, she walked back into the child’s room. Thalia was still playing with her dolls.

"Are those the dolls you mentioned yesterday?" she asked her.

"Yes, this is Celaena. Look she has long blonde hair like you."

Thalia handed her one of the dolls and Aelin took it in her hands, examining the doll.

"She’s very pretty," she said with a smile as she gave it back to the girl.

"Thank you. Santa gave it to me last Christmas. He always knows exactly what I want. He’s smart."

Aelin chuckled at that.

"What did you ask for Christmas this year?" she asked Thalia.

"A puppy!" the young girl exclaimed.

"Well, that’s a big gift. But I hope Santa brings you what you want."

Aelin looked around the room. This was a young girl’s dream bedroom even though it was quite small. The walls were painted a light pink and the four-poster bed was covered with a fluffy duvet with fairies on it. There were tons of plush animals and dolls on display. She noticed a picture on the girl’s desk. It was a picture of Rowan holding a beautiful woman with brown hair and chestnut eyes in his arms. They seemed happy and in love.

"Is that your mom?" Aelin inquired.

Thalia nodded sadly.

"She died when I was born. I never met her."

"I’m sorry, Thalia," Aelin said, sitting down next to her on the bed.

"I wish I had known her… Daddy talks to me about her, but it’s not the same," she admitted. 

"I understand," Aelin replied genuinely, squeezing her small shoulder.

Thalia jumped off the bed and went to grab a hairbrush on her desk.

"Will you brush my hair, Celaena? I can’t do it because of my arm and daddy is busy."

"Yes, of course. Come here."

Thalia walked back to the bed and sat in front of Aelin. Aelin started brushing her brown hair softly, making sure to get every knot, but never to hurt her. She suddenly had a vision of a blonde woman doing the same to her when she was a child. Maybe it was just her imagination playing tricks on her, but it seemed real.

"I think… I think my mother used to brush my hair like this," she whispered to Thalia.

"You remember your mommy?" the young girl asked with wide eyes.

"I think so."

Aelin continued brushing Thalia’s hair, trying to hold on to the vague memory, but a scream brought her out of her daydream.

"THALIA!" shouted Rowan.

Aelin and the young girl quickly stopped what they were doing and made their way to where the voice was coming from. As they arrived in the laundry room’s doorway, they both noticed the room was covered in soap bubbles. Rowan looked like he was on the verge of a break down.

"I didn’t do this," said Thalia vehemently.

"It’s my fault," admitted Aelin. "I must have put too much detergent in it. I’m really sorry."

"This is the last thing I needed today," he said, exasperation clear in his voice. "You’re worse than a child; I can’t leave you alone two minutes without a disaster happening!"

Distraught, Aelin ran off the stairs and dashed outside the lodge. She was on the verge of tears again. It wasn’t enough that she couldn’t remember who she was. No, she also had to be useless. She couldn’t do anything right. She was a mess and an inconvenience. Tears fell down her face. She wiped them off furiously before they could freeze in the cold air.

She had come outside in a rush and hadn’t bothered putting on a coat. It was freezing. She rubbed her hands together and breathed on them to warm them up. She knew she should go back inside, but she couldn’t face Rowan. Not yet. She found an old wooden shed and went inside. She sat down in silence. She felt so alone and lost. Where was her family? Where were her friends? Surely, she must have some. Were they looking for her? She wished she knew who they were. The doctor had said her memories could come back at any time, but she was already losing hope. If memories made us who we are, who were you when you lost them all? Who was she now?

When she felt too cold to stay outside anymore, she walked back inside the lodge. There wasn’t anyone in the lobby. She didn’t risk waiting for Rowan to walk in and headed straight to her room. She got into her ugly granny nightgown and sat in front of the fireplace, trying to warm up. She would do better tomorrow, she told herself. 

…

The next day, she stayed locked up in her room all day. Eventually though, she started getting hungry. She peaked her head out of her room to see if anyone was around. Lucky for her, the corridor was empty. It was already late in the evening, and everyone would have been done eating dinner by now. She would just grab something in the kitchen and head back to her room.

But when she got to the kitchen, she found Rowan doing the dishes and cleaning up. He turned around and looked at her, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell if he was still mad. He grabbed a plate of food and handed it to her.

"I saved you some. I thought you would be hungry," he said in a blank voice.

"Thank you," Aelin replied warily as she took the plate.

She sat down at the bar and ate in awkward silence while Rowan continued cleaning the dishes. When he was done, he looked at her.

"We need wood for the fireplaces. Do you think you could fetch some in the backyard? I would do it, but it snowed and I need to shovel to make a path of access to the door."

She swallowed her last bite before replying.

"Yeah, okay."

She could do this. She wouldn’t make any mistake or cause any accident this time. She would prove Rowan wrong. She stood up and went to her room to grab a winter coat Rowan had lent her. It was way too big for her, and she floated in it, but it was better than freezing her ass off.

It was dark outside, the backyard only illuminated by a few lights. She walked towards the place where wood logs were kept. She took as much of them as she could in her arms and made her way back. The ground was icy, so she walked slowly. She felt her foot slip, but she was able to get her balance back. She was close to the door when she slipped again, and this time, she landed hard on her butt. The logs went flying behind her and made a loud noise as they hit the ground.

Rowan came running up from where he was shoveling snow. When he saw her on the ice, he kneeled next to her. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, worried.

"Yeah, I’m alright," she replied, rubbing her butt and groaning.

She made to get up and grab the logs back, but he stopped her.

"I’ll get it. Can you walk?" he asked.

She didn’t reply, but she stood up and walked slowly to the door. He grabbed the logs on the ground and followed her inside.

"Are you sure you’re okay? Did you hurt yourself?" he asked again, putting the wood down next to the fireplace in the lounge.

"I scratched my hands and I will definitely have a bruise on my ass, but other than that, I’m good. Don’t worry."

"Let me take a look at your hands," he pleaded.

He motioned for her to sit down on the couch. She took a seat and he did the same. He took her hands in his and he examined them.

"You’re bleeding! Wait here. I’ll go get something to clean it up and bandage it."

He left and came back seconds later with a first aid kit. He pulled a rubbing alcohol bottle out of it and poured some on a cotton ball. He took her hands in his hands again. 

"It’ll hurt a little," he warned her before applying the soaked cotton ball on her scratches.

She hissed in pain, and he apologized. He cleaned the wounds thoroughly and then bandaged both her hands delicately.

"Here you go," he said when he was done.

She removed her hands from his as soon as he was done.

"Thank you, but you didn’t have to do this. I’m fine," she reiterated.

"You’ll thank me again when your hands heal appropriately and you don’t get an infection."

"Fussy buzzard," she murmured under her breath.

"What did you say?" he asked, perplexed.

"Nothing. Good night," she said as she got up and headed up the stairs to her room.

"Good night, Celaena."

Tag list:

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[jinxedwritings]

Word Count: 3.4K Summary: Camilia Wildgrove and the 70th Hunger Games Reaping. Warning: Cursing.

The day before the Reaping was a big deal for the kids of District Two. The training centre was always full with kids putting in last minute training for the next day in case they were called on. However, there was always a fight between some kids on who would get to volunteer that year if anyone wanted to and to no surprise, an eighteen year old would win. This year, Blossia Pitbrook was volunteering. She was supposed to go into the games the previous year but someone else volunteered to go instead so this year she made sure that no girl planned on going for that honour.

Camilia wasn’t bothered about it so much, if she got picked and Blossia volunteered then there was always next year. Either way, Camilia knew that she was going to make her parents proud by joining the Peacekeepers.

“Camilia dear!” Her mother called up. “Quintus is here!”

“Thanks mother, just doing my hair!” Camilia shouted down.

Camilia sat in front of her mirror curling pieces of hair that she had down from the braids that went around her head. She had woken up a little later than she had planned so she wouldn’t have been able to curl her whole head like she had planned, instead, braids saved the day. She had done a tiny bit of makeup so she looked wide awake.

“Morning Cami.” Quintus smiled in her doorway.

“Hey you. Looking handsome.” Camilia put down her curler and turned around to admire her boyfriend.

Quintus stepped into her room and did a small full turn so she could take in his outfit. A dark red shirt buttoned all the way up, minus one left open, paired with black trousers and a shiny pair of shoes.

“Thank you, thank you.” Quintus bowed, laughing slightly. “You sure you’re not volunteering looking like that?” He questioned.

“And have to face Pitbrook for taking her glory? Not happening.” Camilia laughed, “Plus, you’re still planning to volunteer and we can’t have both of us on that stage.” She was facing her mirror again.

Quintus smiled again and stepped behind her as she moved to put in some plain earrings that matched her necklace - Quintus had bought it for her as a birthday present.

“I’m glad you’re not volunteering. You’d steal Panem’s breath looking this good.”

Camilia laughed.

“Such a sweet talker.”

“Hey, it worked to get you didn’t it?” Camilia rolled her eyes.

Standing up, she brushed over her outfit and looked at herself once more. Camilia was thankful that she didn’t partake in any fight training yesterday since now, the thin straps of her light green dress wouldn’t hide any bruises. Turning around, she stretched up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

A gentle knock caught their attention. In her doorway stood her father, a small smile on his face as he looked at the young couple.

“Are you both ready to go?”

“I believe we are, Sir.” Quintus smiled again.

She could swear that time slowed each year as she waited in line at the entrance for the Reaping. By the time she had reached the front of the line, she was silently wishing the worker would hurry up and let her in so she could catch up to her boyfriend who had managed to get ahead by quite a few people.

“About time.” Camilia muttered.

Pushing through the crowd of teens, she could spot her boyfriend standing by a fence looking over the crowd for her.

“Cami!” He called out, spotting her.

“I clearly picked the wrong line to stand in. That woman was so slow.” She moaned, grabbed his hand once again.

“Don’t worry, it’s all done now.” He shrugged and started leading the way to where they’d have to stand with the other seventeen year olds.

The sun continued to beat down on them as they made their way almost to the back of the waiting teens. The buzz in the air was thick and full of excitement and whispers, although she had seen many nervous twelve year olds but she wasn’t surprised, it was their first year being entered for the Reaping but they’d learn to find it thrilling. The suspense that is. Finally reaching their sections, Camilia raised her arms up and around his neck. She could feel Quintus’ strong arms pull her close as he hugged her back, nuzzling his face in her neck as he did so.

“Don’t forget to come see me off.” He whispered.

“Like I’d forget.” She replied.

Quintus separated from the hug first and cupped her face to press another kiss to her lips. Camilia returned the action, holding onto the belt loops of his trousers so as to not mess up his shirt. A couple hoots could be heard from some boys and she refrained from rolling her eyes.

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

Camilia forced a smile onto her face and turned around to find her best friend amongst the seventeen year olds. She had tried hard to be supportive of her boyfriend's plan, that was after she screamed at him for about an hour about him wanting to throw his life away and wanting to leave her alone. Yes, she was brought up to enjoy the games and know that it was an honour to represent your district, but she also knew that Quintus had a one in twenty-four chance of winning, even though he only saw it as a one in six chance. That was still a high chance of him dying. A high chance of her losing him.

“You’re still angry at him aren’t you?”

Novia stood with her arms crossed over as Camilia reached her. The two of them stood in the last row of the seventeen year olds. Novia was wearing her favourite soft pink dress that reached her knees with her blonde hair hanging straight down her back with a silk bow holding pieces at the back so it wasn’t in her face.

“I guess I am.” Camilia nodded, “He’s gonna be up against tough competition with Pitbrook volunteering too.” She added.

“Well, with his charm I’m sure he’ll get plenty of sponsors to help him through.”

“He better or I’ll kill him myself.”

Novia quickly covered her mouth to muffle the laughter.

“You’d never forgive yourself.”

“You’re supposed to say that I’d never hurt him!” Camilia gasped.

“No can do. You’re at the top of our year, dare say you could kill Pitbrook.” 

Both of them laughed.

The loud sound of the Capitol music caused Camilia to look forward and see that every important person of their district was now sitting up on the stage. The Mayor sat with a couple important people she paid no mind to. The Victors sat next to them. Brutus, Enobaria, Lyme, Umbria and their latest Victor, Wade who won the 63rd Games.

“War. Terrible war. Widows, orphans, a childless mother. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts-” 

Camilia rolled her eyes. It was the exact same film that was shown last year, and the year before that, and the year before that.

“You’d think they’d change it up a little.” Camilia whispered.

“You’d think.” Novia replied.

“That is how we safeguard our future.”

The film ended and the Capitol escort walked up to the stage with a grin on her face. Dressed head to toe in purple, the woman looked like an eggplant and once again, Camilia had to refrain from laughing at the woman's appearance.

“Wasn’t that just lovely.” Sapphire spoke into the microphone. “Welcome, everyone, happy hunger games.”

Sapphire rambled on for a couple of minutes about honouring your district before stating; “Boys first!”

Camilia watched as the escort practically strutted over to the bowl that contained all the boys' names that were able to be reached. Turning her eyes to the large screen, she watched the woman rummage around in the bowl before plucking out a piece of paper and heading back to the microphone.

“Isn’t this just so exciting?” She questioned. “Okay, the male tribute for District Two will be…” She unfolded the paper, “Quintus Glycia!”

Instantly cheers erupted along with clapping. Camilia joined in on the clapping and forced a smile on her face as she looked over to the boys side where she could see Quintus trying to make his way through all the guys that were patting him on the shoulders and back. Her heart was down in her stomach. It didn’t fully sink in that he was going until that point.

Camilia watched as Quintus walked with his shoulders back and his head held high. Four peacekeepers escorted him to the stage where Sapphire greeted him at the top of the stairs with a smile on her face.

“And now for the ladies.” Sapphire spoke into the microphone.

Once again, Camilia watched the woman’s hand lower into the glass bowl and move papers around until she picked one up and walked back to the microphone. Quintus still stood with a smile on his face.

“District Two’s female tribute will be…” She unfolded the paper once again. “Novia Silo!”

There were cheers once again, but her best friend stood still in shock. Camilia took hold of her hand and gave her a smile, it was gonna be okay. Blossia Pitbrook was volunteering this year so they had nothing to worry about. 

“Novia Silo!” Sapphire called out once again.

Camilia turned around and found Blossia straight away. She stood as still as a statue, unable to move or speak.

“I volunteer!” 

“Cami no!”

Camilia didn’t realise it, but she had yelled out the words as her hand kept hold of her best friends. Blossia Pitbrook had chickened out and her best friend was going to be sent to her death.

Four peacekeepers arrived by her row and Camilia had to really fight to get out of Novia’s grip so she could walk. Taking a deep breath, Camilia made her way towards the stage, shoulders back, chin up, not looking at Quintus.

Getting to the stairs, she walked up and took Sapphire’s hand so she could be spoken to briefly.

“What is your name dear?” Sapphire questioned.

“Camilia Wildgrove.” She answered, giving the Capitol woman a smile.

“Well Camilia, congratulations on honouring your district.” Sapphire spoke, “District Two’s female tribute, Camilia Wildgrove!” She exclaimed.

Camilia watched as the crowd cheered for her. She finally looked at Quintus and the look in his eye could kill, despite the smile on his face. Walking over to meet him in the middle, they took hold of each other's hand and raised them up, both smiling. They were both standing on the stage of the Reaping. Looking out to the cheering crowd, Camilia found her best friend first. Novia clapped with the rest of the crowd despite having tears running down her face. At the back, Camilia’s parents stood together, her father holding her mother close to him with a stern look on his face. The man never liked to show much emotion outside of their home, her mother however, had a smile on her face while she clapped. Camilia couldn’t pick out her sister amongst the various PeaceKeepers.

Sapphire gestured for the two of them to exit the stage and follow the Peacekeepers. Camilia did as she was told and refused to look at Quintus as she did so. She couldn’t look him in the eye right now.

Entering the small room, Camilia started taking deep breaths in and out. She had to calm down or she’d break down then and there. Hearing the click of the door, Camilia whipped around to see Pollia in front of her, free of her uniform helmet.

“Pollia!” Camillia practically jumped on her sister.

“I thought you weren’t volunteering this year?” Pollia questioned, “If I’d known I would’ve got the day off.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, I just panicked. I heard Novia’s name and Blossia didn’t speak so I looked and she wasn’t even making a move to volunteer like she was bragging that she was gonna do and she had this look in her eye that just, I don’t know and I jus-”

“Camilia!”

Camilia froze.

“You started rambling.” Pollia smiled and held her hands. “Deep breaths. In… Out. Okay. I don’t have much time left with you, but I believe in you okay? You’re strong and brave and beautiful. You’ll do well.”

“Thank you.” Camilia nodded. “Can you tell Blossia Pitbrook that she better watch out? Cause if I get to come home, I’m gonna kill her.”

Pollia laughed. “Of course.” She nodded, “I’ll give her a good scare for you, and I’ll watch out for Novia too.”

Giving one last hug and squeezing her sister hard, Camilia watched as Pollia left the room and was soon replaced by her parents who both hugged her tightly.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered, “You’re so brave to do that for Novia.”

“I panicked, mother.” Camilia answered. “Blossia Pitbrook was supposed to volunteer today and she didn’t. She made a big deal about it yesterday too.”

“It’s okay. You’ll do great in the Games.” Her father spoke.

“Dad, I’m going in with Quintus! Or did you forget that already?!”

Tears were now brimming her eyes as she spoke. Realisation fully coming to her now that she said it out loud.

“I love Quintus with all my heart and if I don’t die in there, I’ll have to watch him die!” She cried.

Her father was the one to wrap his arms around her as the tears slipped down her cheeks. Her mother rubbed her back, gently shushing her to calm her down.

“We know sweetheart.” Her mother whispered once again.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” Father spoke, “We adore Quintus, he’s made you so happy, but with the Games, we’d rather you come home. I’m sure his family feels the same.” He added.

Camilia nodded and got herself out of his hug before gently patting at her face to get rid of tears without ruining her makeup.

“I love you both.” Camilia smiled. “I’ll do my best to come home.”

“I know you will.” Her mother smiled and cradled her face before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re my beautiful girl and the Capitol will adore you.”

“Remember that we’ll be with you, in there.” Her father pointed to her chest. Her heart. “We’ll be rooting for you all the way, Warrior.” He pressed a kiss to her head.

With a final goodbye to her parents, they were ushered out of the room and in came the one and only Novia.

“You’re so stupid! Why would you do that?!” Novia yelled.

“Cause Pitbrook didn’t.” Camilia replied. “I just panicked, okay?” she added.

“You? Panic? Since when do you panic?”

“Since I heard my best friend’s name get called at the Reaping.”

Camilia had to fight the urge to rub her face in frustration at her best friend.

“Look, you wouldn’t last a day in the Games and you’ve said it yourself. Pitbrook didn’t volunteer like she was supposed to and I said it before I even realised I spoke.” Camilia explained. “I’m annoyed with myself and I’ve still gotta face Quintus. Just please… Please don’t be mad at me right now.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just scared.”

“So am I. I mean, everything is fucked up now.”

“Tell me about it. We were suppose to watch the games together and root for Quin and now you’re both in the games cause of fucking Pitbrook.”

The door opened once again and there stood a Peacekeeper in full uniform.

“Time to go, Miss Wildgrove.” The man spoke behind his mask.

Quickly, Camilia wrapped her arms around Novia and gave her a squeeze that she returned.

“Try not to worry about us too much.” Camilia smiled.

Following the Peacekeeper out of the room, she was led to a car outside that would take them to the train to the Capitol. Without sparing a look back, Camilia ducked into the car and took a seat by the window. Quintus was sitting by the other window while their escort sat opposite them both and simply looked between them.

“By God you could cut the tension in here with a knife.” Sapphire spoke up. “What is the matter with you two? You’re going to the Hunger Games, you should be excited.”

“It’s complicated.” Camilia answered, sparing a glance at her boyfriend.

“That’s one word for it.”

“Quin… please don’t be like that.”

The conversation ended as the car engine stopped. They were outside the train station. Before getting to leave the car, Sapphire told them to smile, that there’d be cameras outside. Camilia did as she was told once again.

Exiting the car, Camilia put a big smile on her face and waved to the cameras that flashed and the ones that were recording footage for shows that’d be broadcasted over Panem. Quintus joined her side and copied her actions. Sapphire was last out of the car and quickly got them onto the train.

“Seeing as District Two is one of the closest to the Capitol, we’ll only be on the train for an hour or two so you both can sit down and relax until then.” Sapphire smiled.

Camilia watched as Sapphire left the cart they were in to head into another one. She assumed that the Victors of their District were somewhere on the train as well.

“What the fuck were you thinking Cami?”

“Quin please.” Camilia whined. “I wasn’t thinking, I was panicking and it just happened.” She stated. “I didn’t even want you to volunteer, I even said this morning that I didn’t want both of us on the stage.”

“You also said you wouldn’t volunteer ‘cause that girl was.”

“But she didn’t! So I did, but I didn’t mean to!”

“So you volunteered by accident? Do you think I’m stupid?!”

“For fuck sake Quin is that what you’re pressed about?! Quin one of us is gonna die!”

“Cause you volunteered!”

Camilia took a deep breath and wiped her eyes of the tears that built up once again. The whole situation was fucked up and all she wanted to do was scream and cry but she couldn’t.

“Quin.” Camilia spoke quietly. “I really didn’t mean to volunteer, Pitbrook didn’t volunteer like she was supposed to and I just panicked. I didn’t even realise what happened until Novia cried my name.”

“You really didn’t do it on purpose?”

“Of course not. You know I was planning on being a Peacekeeper.”

“But now we’re both here instead.”

“Yeah, and only one of us can go home.”

Quintus took a step forward with his arms open. Camilia moved instantly and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her face buried in his neck as he rested his chin on her head.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, my love.”

“You’re forgiven. I’m sorry I yelled at you too.”

“All forgiven.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “If we’ve only got so long left, I don’t want to be angry with each other.”

Pulling away slightly, Camilia looked up at her boyfriend and leaned up to press a kiss to his lip. Resisting the urge to smile as he returned his love for her.

“So that’s why there was tension in the car!” Sapphire gasped, clapping her hands together. “You both have a crush on each other! How cute.”

“Actually they’ve been dating for years.” Enobaria spoke up from behind Sapphire. “Which is something we could use to help you in the Games.” She added.

Camilia glanced at Quintus. She didn’t really want to make their relationship something that could be sold for entertainment.

“Let’s not think of that right now. We’ve got the parade to worry about first.” Brutus said, making his way into the cart and taking a seat in the living area.

“Do we have to do marketing with our relationship?” Quintus questioned.

Camilia felt his hold on her tighten slightly, almost like he felt more protective of her.

“It could get you sympathy sponsors. With a lovely couple both having to compete and get split… people will have their heart strings pulled at that.”

“But lovey and sweet isn’t what District Two is known for?” Camilia questioned. “We’re known for being tough and brutal.”

“Yes, but that same thing gets boring if it’s given to you all the time. Doesn’t hurt to switch it up.” Enobaria shrugged.

“No.” Camilia shook her head. “I’m not making our relationship into some star-crossed lovers bullshit for the cameras just to gain sympathy.” She stated, “we’re both strong fighters, we’re charming and work with that.”

“Okay, okay.” Brutus chuckled, his hands up in the air, “No star-crossed lovers shit.”

[apocalypseornaw]

Never say Never

For @make-me-imagine 5th blog anniversary event. The prompt I picked was "I can't stand the fact that I can never be with you."

Word Count: 1402

Warnings: smidge of cursing

You were laying across Dean's bed next to him watching whatever western he'd clicked on. You normally would've been paying attention to the television, your weekly movie nights were something you'd looked forward to but lately you started to wonder if it was something that meant as much to him as it did to you.

You'd known him and Sam the better part of your adult life. Hell you were twelve when you met them. Sam was the same age as you and Dean was a smart mouthed sixteen year old that thought he already knew it all until Bobby revealed you were a natural born witch being raised by your uncle who also a witch and a hunter. For years Dean avoided you at best until John went missing. He called you to go to Stanford with him in hopes Sam would be more willing to come along for the search if you were there.

The intention was to simply assist them in finding their dad then hit the road yourself. After Jess was killed Sam asked you to stick around so you started hunting with them more often. Eventually Dean started to trust you just as Sam did. You counted yourself as the first notch in Dean seeing that this life wasn't all white and black but shades of grey. Your powers came in handy at times and you fought for the boys just as hard as they fought for you.

The bond you had with Sam was unbreakable because both of you were the kids being dumped on Bobby, never feeling like you belonged. He was your best friend and you his. Dean however was a harder case to crack, yeah you were friends but the bond didn't form as strong until you ended up trapped in Purgatory with him. Nothing like a constant battle field to make you know each other inside and out. The weeks after making it back topside were the worse. The damn flashbacks drove the two of you together, there was nothing sexual but you would stay with each other wrapped up in your shared trauma offering comfort you could only find in each other.

Since then you could nearly read Dean's thoughts half the time only a glance having to be shared between the two of you. When had your feelings slipped past you into him sneaking his way into your heart? Was it when Sam nearly died from the trials? Could it have been the horror that followed his days of bearing the mark of Cain when it truly seemed like he would be lost to all of you?

Dean was impossible to not fall for. Physically he was gorgeous of course but besides that he was strong and caring and would risk his life to save someone without a second thought. He would fight with everything he had and loved with every ounce of his heart. You knew how he saw himself, a fuck up. When he looked in the mirror he saw every mistake he ever made. You'd give anything to let him see himself how you saw him.

Halfway through the movie Dean realized you weren't commenting on some of the ridiculous costumes or snatching any pizza. Hell your lemonade sat untouched. He turned his eyes away from the screen to glance over at you and realized you were curled up to his pillow laying tucked into his side.

He clicked the television off before nudging you slightly "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" You visibly startled before a soft smile slipped onto your face "Sorry Dean, guess my heads not really into this movie" "Yeah that bad of an excuse may work on Sammy but not me. I know ya better than that. You're looking worse than you did when I came back from having black eyes. Now what gives darling?"

You sat up slowly still clutching his pillow "That" he looked confused for a second "Me calling you darling?" You nodded the words slipping out before you could stop them "I can't stand the fact that I can never be with you."

His eyes widened and you felt your heart threaten to stop when you realized you'd just spilled your heart out "I'm sorry" you muttered standing to leave but damn him he was always the fastest human you knew. He grabbed you before you got to the door gently holding your wrists "Hold on now you can't say something like that then run on me"

You let him lead you back to the bed avoiding his eyes as you sat down next to him. "Can you explain what you mean?" You took a deep breath "You're Dean Winchester. The man whos saved the world more times than I can count. You're the best man I know. I'm just some witch. Hell I've almost made you be forced to kill another hunter way back when. I know you'll never see me like that and it's ok. I just hell Dean I never meant to fall for you please believe that, I would never risk our friendship"

You felt him move before his hand gripped yours gently "Look at me Darling" you slowly raised your eyes to meet his green ones "Can I talk now?" You nodded feeling your face warm from embarrassment "Are we ignoring how many times you've saved me? How many times you've saved Sam and countless others? There is no other person on this earth I trust the way I trust you. Yeah I nearly killed that asshole because he hurt you. I fell for you years ago but never wanted you to think you were just another woman to me. Besides Sam you are the most important person in my life. You're calling me the best man you know yet I'm a better man for just knowing you. I fell for you years ago but never knew how to say the words and having you in my life in any way was worth it to me"

"So what now?" You asked quietly and he smiled "Well I was thinking maybe I could kiss you then we could find a movie you wanna watch and take it from there?" "Even if it's the mummy?" You asked with a relieved laugh. "Even if it's the mummy. Now come here" He pulled you into his lap and you fell against his chest pulling a smile to his face "God you're beautiful" he whispered before brushing his lips against yours tentatively,deepening the kiss when you hooked your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

When you were forced apart by the need for air he chuckled "I'll watch the mummy a thousand times for you sweetheart"

@make-me-imagine

[yeonjunszn]

THE MARRIAGE PACT — 0

PAIRING: huening kai x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

GENRES: fluff﹒slight angst﹒crack(?)

WARNINGS: nothing really just a premise for how the pact came to be and light swearing, mentions the movie fight club but i’m gonna be honest and say i’ve never seen it, gyu is mentioned in this part too!!,

SUMMARY: you’ve known huening kai since you were twelve years old, you know, geeky little middle schoolers. then high school came around and suddenly you became the object of everyone’s affections— except no one ever made a move on you. out of both desperation and the sheer idiocy of being fifteen, you and kai make a marriage pact. when the time finally comes to fulfill the contract, secrets are unveiled and feelings unravel. but it’s nothing more than a silly pact, right?

MORE: AHHHH i’m so excited for this!! ive never written for hyuka before and i love him sm

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You met Huening Kai when you were twelve, right smack in the middle of junior high. You had these thick framed glasses and he could hardly see through his fringe of dark hair. You both looked like absolute dorks, but bonded over a shared love for playing the Nintendo DS.

Rather than eating lunch in the cafeteria, you would sit in your classroom, munching on whatever snacks your mother packed for you that day while trying to beat a level of MarioKart. One day, Kai decided to do the same thing. He sat a few desks away, not having talked to you before then.

He was a very friendly person, you knew this much. He was extremely outgoing and made friends with almost anyone he came into contact with. But you could tell he understood boundaries, since he didn’t try to force you into a conversation. However, you could feel his eyes switch back and forth between his own Nintendo and yours, as if he wanted to say something.

You took a sip of your juice and sighed, turning your body in your chair to face him. “If you wanna come sit with me, you can. I don’t mind.”

His eyes widened just a bit, shocked by your invitation, but you could see how happy it made him. He gave you a small smile, picking up his belongings and relocating to your desk, sitting backwards in the chair in front of you. “What other games do you have?”

And that was the start of something new.

You made it a habit to eat lunch together in the classroom every day, bringing along a different game each time. So from then on, your friendship blossomed immensely. Middle school was a bit rough, but you made it through with one more friend.

By the time high school rolled around, things hadn’t changed that drastically. The only addition was the release of the Nintendo Switch, which easily replaced your old DSIs due to both popularity and the fact that they looked super fucking cool. (You spent an unhealthy amount of money to get the pink one.)

Animal Crossing quickly became your favorite game to play together, visiting each other’s islands almost every single day. When the AC version of the Switch came out, Kai pawned off his original to his younger sister Bahiyyih in favor of begging his parents to get him the other one. (The boy was spoiled, so everything panned out in his favor.)

Even though you could both be considered massive losers for being obsessed with Nintendo still at age fifteen, you honestly weren’t. Kai’s friendship magic (you’d referred to it as his ‘My Little Pony’ power on numerous occasions and received just as many smacks on the back of the head in response) worked on just about everyone. Boys didn’t cringe inwardly at the sight of you. Since you’d ditched the glasses, in fact, they all seemed to be heavily attracted to you.

Except nothing ever happened.

Just when you thought it was going well with a boy, he suddenly backed off and left you heartbroken. It was upsetting, to say the least.

One night, when you and Kai were hanging out at your house, you ripped out a sheet of paper from a random journal and set it between the two of you. He raised an eyebrow at your actions, thoroughly confused by the weirdness of it.

“What are you doing?” He reaches over onto your nightstand to grab a handful of popcorn, shoving it into his mouth. You take a deep breath.

“I’m about to propose an idea— a very stupid, kind of idiotic idea— but an idea, nonetheless.” You answer, hopping off your bed to grab two colored pens. One black and one pink. He stares at you like you’d just grown two heads, the gears in his head constantly getting stuck.

“Okay, I’m caving. Can you tell me what this is all about?” He leans back onto his hands.

“A marriage pact.” Is what you say simply. His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets and he coughs as if he choked, sitting upright immediately.

“A what pact??”

“It’s a joke mostly, but deep down I’m actually kinda serious about it, so just hear me out,” you reason, raising your hands in surrender. “You and I have shit luck in the relationship department. And yeah I get it, we’re only fifteen so it’s not the end of the world, but part of me feels like I’ll have shit luck forever. So I’m suggesting a marriage pact.”

He blinks at you. Once. Then twice. Then a third time before he’s actually speaking again. “What exactly is a marriage pact?”

“Well there are rules and kinks to be figured out, but the gist of it is me and you will get together and get married by a certain age if we’re both still single,” you explain. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it in a movie or a K-drama somewhere.”

“Okay first of all, I do not have shit luck in the relationship department, I’m just not looking for anything right now. And second of all, you’re seriously planning our future based on fiction?”

“Kai Kamal Huening, you own an Isabelle plush because you somehow think her spirit will overtake you and you’ll learn how to speak like an Animal Crossing character. Do not talk to me about basing things off of fiction.” You deadpan, crossing your arms.

He avoids your glare, scratching the back of his neck. “We said we wouldn’t talk about that anymore. You also promised not to use my government name in an argument.”

“I won't do it again if you agree to the pact,” you grin, poking his cheeks playfully. “Please, Hyuka. I don’t wanna die an old lady with thirty cats and a house filled with random stuff I don’t need to the point that I can hardly walk through it. Cause it’s not like I’m going to miraculously bump into Jeonghan from Seventeen on the streets and have him fall in love with me.”

He takes one look at the hope in your eyes and lets out a small sigh, giving into the slight pout on your lips. “Fine. Okay. I’ll do it.”

Your expression brightens by a tenfold and you nearly topple him over, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Yah! I love you, you overgrown baby!” You press a fat smooch on his cheek and pull away, settling yourself back down to get to business. When you’re not paying attention, he holds two fingers up to the area you just kissed, his face warming up at the action. “Alright, let’s establish our rules.”

He forces himself to snap out of it, nodding at your words. “Uh— okay— um— what age should we cap it at?”

You tap the end of your pen on your chin, humming. “How about twenty five? Not too young, not too old. People usually get married around that age.”

“That’s cool with me. Twenty five’s good.” He concedes. You’re slightly surprised that he’s not trying to fight with you on anything. Usually he would’ve tossed in his two cents. You don’t mention it though, taking your win and moving on.

“I don’t really want too many restrictions since we’ll both find loopholes anyways,” you say as you finish writing out the previous rule. “Next; we need to keep this between us only. No blabbering to anyone else. Yes, that means you can’t tell the guys.”

He opens his mouth and shuts it just as fast. “I guess that’s fair. This is like some Fight Club shit.”

“Please never refer to our pact in the same sentence as Fight Club again.”

“Okay okay, I won’t. Even though there’s nothing wrong with Fight Club,” Kai grumbles. “So, if we’re single by twenty five and no snitching. Is that all?” He gets more popcorn, extending his arm over you to also get his switch from beside the bowl on your bedside table. “Beomgyu’s letting me visit his island.”

“One more thing,” you hold up a finger, jotting down the remainder of the second rule, putting emphasis on certain parts. “You can’t flake out on me, Huening Kai. I mean it. Once this pact is signed, it’ll be sealed and delivered. There’s no going back.”

Your tone is firm, indicating just how committed you were with this. He wanted to tease you like he usually would when you tried being serious for once, but he didn’t have it in him. Not when he could tell how genuine you felt about this stupid pact. And because he doesn’t want to break your heart, he agrees.

“No take backs.” He smiles.

You grin widely, scribbling out the final rule of your contract before signing it. You slide the sheet of paper to Kai, watching him excitedly while he uncaps the pen and prepares to leave his own signature. His head tilts to the side, showing his hesitation to follow through. Then he glances up at you and catches that hopeful glint in your eyes once again.

(His fingers have a mind of their own after that.)

You put your hand out for him and he grasps it, shaking. “No take backs.”

© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[cuppajj]

Yess, please tell us about Overlord and Drillburst’s parallels! :D

picture by @voiidfriend from his animatic which i will not stop plugging! watch it rnrnrn

Here's a list of parallels and contrasts between Overlord and that one green exploding guy he doesn’t like! 75% of which wrote themselves

MTMTE reveals that Overlord was born in an energon mining facility, found by miners. 432882, while constructed in Stanix, was first activated in an energon mining facility as a miner.

Though not canon, an unofficial Ask Vector Prime post noted that Stanix’s origins came from the place where Overlord’s tank half landed after the events of ROTW. (It is run by writers of the TFWiki, though has not been endorsed by Hasbro; so this bullet point is more a fun bonus rather than solid fact.)

Overlord is 4.2 million years old, Drillburst is 2.4 million years old.

Though having different frame types, they share many similar structural beats with each other:

Comparison by @voiidbots - thank you friendo 😂❤️

For some G9 related material: both were given choices, of which option two was picked. Overlord decided to allow Megatron to hunt him down, and Drillburst favored to fight him as his reward over taking his own life.

Both of them blow up. For a little bit of a stretch, both happen(ed) not by chance, but by command (for Overlord, it was Ironfist).

One of the few intentional parallels I gave them was having their optic shattered on Elba; Overlord his right, and Drillburst his left.

Contrasts!! This is where I think of more foil-related material. While some of this was planned deliberately, a lot of it wasn’t

Drillburst was made as a dull, unimpressive spark shoved into a body that didn’t fit him, with a predetermined purpose already laid out for him. Overlord meanwhile was naturally born, already rare and powerful, and had the right time to form his own suitable frame.

Their upbringings were much different because of this, with Overlord able to choose what he wanted to do while Drillburst had none.

During the war, Overlord had prestigious roles and titles appointed to him, while Drillburst was trying to scrape by with nothing to his name.

Ok here's just some symbolism I like to add:

Clocks - tells the time, counts to twelve

X - an inverse relationship

Butterflies/moths - metamorphosis, and drawn to an unexpected end respectively

Rain - a bringer of woes, but can wash away tears. It depends on how you look at it :)

So yeah i like symbolism in my oc story <3 some of these parallels weren't planned for too but I'm more than happy that they work! I've written and thought about both of them and one of the reasons why it's a lot of fun to put them together is because of how they bounce off each other. Id do more with them but im still shy about it ksdfhskdf anyway thats it for my rambling thanks for coming to my ted talk