#You’re terrified of planes and heights so you don’t want to do that

[toxixpumpkin]

Some Allos think that not liking sex and in fact finding the act of it repulsive is a personal attack on their literal life. And it’s so annoying. Not to mention the near constant jumping to defend sex and waxing poetics about it, like it needs defending, when I talk about how I don’t find it appealing.

Yeah I get it. I’ve been told since forever how supposedly “important” and “beautiful” and “intimate” sex is. And if I don’t tiptoe around how I talk about it they’re sobbing on the ground like I punched them in the mouth.

Why should I mince my words to spare their feelings on sex when not a single time my feelings on it have been spared. Not my fault you’ve put something utterly arbitrary on an unrealistic pedestal of needs so much so you’re literally offended when someone thinks that thing is gross.

[ahtsumu]

how the haikyuu boys fall in love

oikawa falls in love like a tsunami’s last breath. the first time he realises he loves you, he thinks the earth beneath his feet has fractured. terrified, he recedes from your life, pulls back from your outstretched hands, withdraws from your longing gaze, hoping that his feelings will, too. instead, they surge forward with a roar, swell to monstrous heights, foaming viciously at the crest. and soon, the colossal wave collapses against the shore, unable to fight any longer. when his words finally flood out, that roar of the tsunami arrives in the end as a whisper–– “i love you.” and everything is washed anew.

iwaizumi falls in love like a tree branch under snow. his feelings accumulate crystal by crystal: a touch here, a smile there, a picture at 2 am followed by “i saw this and thought of you” and a reply of “go to sleep, idiot” seconds later. you worm your way into his heart so slowly he doesn’t notice it at first, doesn’t notice the thick layer of snow on the caving wooden limb, doesn’t notice that one more fleeting brush against his fingers will tip the scale–– until the branch finally snaps. and when he opens his eyes to a world bedazzled by snow, the only face he can see is yours.

kuroo falls in love like honey on pancakes. with him, there’s no sudden realisation, no flashbulb moment of his adoration, because he’s been happily fixed in a golden state of mind ever since the day you met. every day, his name sounds sweeter out your mouth. every day, he wakes up with sugar on his lips. it’s slow, how his love for you grows, but it’s steady. and now, as you kiss every knuckle on his hand to pull him back down to earth, he can only let out a soft, amused exhale through his nose. his half-lidded gaze focuses on your decadent features. “i’m here,” he purrs. 

kenma falls in love like eyelids after dark. very rarely do the gears in his head stop spinning; he’s lived his entire life on alert, taking in and apart details to survive. but with you… there’s no need to take in and apart the way your lips feel against his, the scent of your hair in his nose, your shallow breath against his neck. it all feels so safe. with you, he’s home–– he can finally rest. so even when light drains out from the sky, even when the world is at its worst, at the feeling of your body curling up to his, the gears in his head grind to a halt. and he lets his heart beat instead.

bokuto falls in love like a fledgeling from its nest. he knows it’s reckless––  ridiculously reckless–– to have so much faith in wings not yet fully formed, but there’s something about you that makes him want to soar. maybe it’s that you remind him of a cloudless blue sky or a valley that stretches from both ends of the earth or an ocean that glitters beneath the sun. maybe it’s that your name is a call to adventure. and at that moment, he realises that birds don’t fly when they’re ready–– they fly when they’re called to. so he steps to the edge, spreads his arms out, and leaps, your name a prayer on his lips.

akaashi falls in love like silence between friends. it comes over him naturally, instinctively, right as he thinks that he could do nothing next to you forever and still be satisfied. the feeling wraps his shoulders like a blanket and, with a twitch of his lips, he pulls it closer around himself. his eyes dart over to your figure, wondering if you know–– if you’d known this whole time. and then when you catch his gaze, when you ask “like what you see?” with a smirk on your face, he feels the fabric stretch around his shoulders as if to fit a second body. his reply comes to him like second nature, like instinct. “no, i love it.”

atsumu falls in love like skydiving from a plane. he’s meticulous, guarded, the most untrusting of fate. so he fights to gain the upper hand: he picks his parachute, his pilot, the day with the best weather–– everything is in his control. and when you come in full view, he finally thinks the dropzone is perfect. only then does he throw all caution to the wind, diving head first, eyes closed all the way down. an awesome wave of euphoria washes over him, lasting even when he realises he’s landed right in your arms, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, pupils wild with excitement. he wants to freefall into you again. so he does.

osamu falls in love like night over the city. it’s as inevitable as the cycle of the sun and moon and when it happens, he’s still the same–– yet everything is different. beside you, he feels the air change and all else fade into the background. beside you, the hum of the world turns into a steady beat, a pulse awfully similar to the one in his chest. and he flickers to life, a mosaic of light, when you touch him. he doesn’t usually look like this, you think as you draw circles on the back of his hand, trying to pinpoint what about him has changed. smiling softly, he knows that you’ll figure it out soon. or... he could say it now.

kita falls in love like a seed into the ground. he doesn’t feel it when it’s sowed, nor when it takes root beneath the soil, but he sure feels when it sprouts. its stem crawls around his legs and up his trunk, keeping him safely fixed to earth. it grows with every “good morning” and “i’ll save you a seat”, it grows when you prance over with a joke on your lips and two coffees in your hands. it grows when he sees you with your eyes closed, head tilted towards the sky like a sunflower, and realises that you are all he’s ever wanted. your head turns. your eyes meet. and as spring does with the cherry trees, he blooms.

ushijima falls in love like a comet past the sun. as he hurtles by, your radiance melts his icy exterior into the glimmering cloud in his wake. every inch of his body is on fire. he feels the power in the pull of your orbit. feels you could utterly ruin him. feels he’d be okay with it, too. but you don’t. instead, he thinks himself made of anti-gravity as you trace constellations into his skin. he sees stars collide when you kiss. and when he remembers how a comet can spend thousands of years without passing the sun in its orbit, he looks at you asleep in his arms and holds you just a little tighter to his chest.

tendou falls in love like confetti on new year’s eve. this moment has spent all year in the making. ten, from the day you pummelled into his life. nine, the time that slowed when he saw you smile. eight, when you changed each other’s names in your phones. seven, that time he dragged you out to a party. six, how you retaliated by taking him to a play. five, your shoulders touch during said play. four, his fingers wrap around yours during the finale. three, you hold hands all the way home. two, he walks you to the door. one, you stop. zero, he leans in. and the world explodes in full colour.

kageyama falls in love like a fawn upright for the first time. it’s all new–– the butterflies in his stomach, the sluggishness of his tongue in his mouth, the short-circuiting of his brain when you’re around. he stumbles and trips and topples over navigating through the tingling in his body. “are you okay?” you ask, peering into his eyes. his cheeks burn as he nods, unable to form words. he thinks he’ll be fine, though, until you place a hand on his shoulder. the touch sends another flood of electricity through his nerves. “you sure? you look like you’re about to hurl.” and he resolves that he will do something about this.

tsukishima falls in love like a chest in resignation. he didn’t believe in softer emotions–– or at least, that’s what he told himself. and he held out for so long. but then you came along with your dumb sparkly eyes and your stupid smart mouth and infuriatingly sweet smile. even with the argument still fresh on his mind, he still adores you to death. especially right now, as he struggles to breathe knowing that he might lose you. fine, he thinks, no more running. he picks up his phone and sends the message that’s been sitting in his notes. and finally, he lets out a sigh. you win. he’s never been happier to lose.

sakusa falls in love like the last leaf before winter. just as a tree holds onto its foliage for dear life, he is stubborn in refusing to fall. still, even he is powerless against nature. as autumn goes, winter arrives in your form. he thinks you are the strangest cold–– the kind that soothes instead of stings, the kind that kindles fires and bakes chocolate chip cookies, the kind that turns his cheeks red without a touch but with a smile. but he likes it. so when winter knocks at his door and asks if he’s “ready to go?” he, the last leaf on the tree, finally flutters down to the ground.

[peachbear88]

Fight For It: Not Just a Pretty Face

Summary: Everything was fine and dandy between Wanda and Natasha until you joined. What measures will the two go to to have you for their own? Part 2 of the series.

Series Warnings: Angst, fluff.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader/Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.342k

-=+=-

"Y/N? Y/N! Where are you?" Natasha frantically searches the bunker. It's an absolute shit show in there, papers all over the floor, TV's flipped, lying face down on the ground and a sickeningly red color painting the walls.

Wanda bursts into the room, her eyes jumping all around.

"Oh god. Is that-" She claps a hand to her mouth as if to stop herself from puking.

"No, it's not blood. At least I don't think so," Natasha responds offhandedly, still scanning the room for clues.

"Where is she?" Wanda demands, storming over to Natasha.

"I don't know.

"Where. Is. She?" Wanda screams, grabbing Nat.

Big mistake.

Nat calmly grabs Wanda's left wrist, twisting it. Wanda screams in pain. A leg sweeps her own out from under her and she lands on the concrete floor with a painful thud.

"I told you, I don't know."

"Even if you did, you wouldn't tell me." Wanda mutters under her breath as she picks herself up off the floor, gingerly rolling her wrist. Natasha whirls around.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She takes a step towards the brunette. Surprisingly, Wanda holds her ground, matching the redhead with a terrifying glare of her own.

"You know what I mean. You wish to be her knight in shining armor. Swoop her off her feet as the Americans like to say," Wanda growls, circling around Natasha in an aggressive stance, her fingertips glowing red.

"I wish for no such thing. I just want her back safe and sound," Natasha replies coolly, watching as the younger girl eyes her warily.

"Sure. Safe and sound in your arms." Wanda snorts.

"I won't deny, I have my personal reasons for rescuing her," Natasha admits, "but that doesn't make this rescue mission any less professional. If we want to get her back, the only way we can do that is if we work together. So if you could stop passively aggressively attacking me every chance you get, that'd be great."

That shuts Wanda up.

"Fine." She agrees reluctantly and Natasha lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Let's get back to the team. I've got a clue." She spins on her heel. exiting the room sharply.

"Wait what? When did we do that?"

"We didn't do that. I did. Found it while you were distracted by your impressively lame monologue."

"Hey! What happened to working together!" Wanda exclaims, jogging to catch up to the redhead.

"Only applies to you. Now let me get my fun in." Wanda smiles to herself briefly as they exit the ancient castle that had been turned into a HYDRA base. This was what life was like before. Before you came along. The two of them, exchanging lighthearted banter, together, inseparable.

She shakes those thoughts from her head, forcing the memories back down. Now was not that time for nostalgia. They had to find you and fast.

-=+=-

"You've grown to be quite the pretty thing haven't you?" A gruff voice sneers, rough fingers gripping your chin harshly. You bite at his fingers aggressively, catching his pinky. He cries out in pain. "Get off you crazy bitch!"

He rips his hand from your mouth, delivering a slap to your face which has your mind reeling.

"Stupid bitch." He mutters, cradling his finger with his other hand. You spit at his feet, a drop of blood mixing with the spit. He surges forward, kicking you in the stomach which sends your chair crashing to the ground. "Not so tough when a man puts you in your place huh?" Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he exits the room, slamming the door behind him.

Gingerly, you feel your abdomen through the loosely tied ropes, wincing as you touch your ribs. Definitely broken.

Where was the team?

-=+=-

"This is how we're going to find Y/N."

Tony examines the tiny pebble dramatically.

"You're joking."

"I'm not. I took it to a friend, a geologist to be exact and he ran some scans. This rock is from Italy. More specifically, Rome." Wanda perks up.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go!" She cries desperately but Steve grabs her arm.

"Not so fast. Even if we know where she is, we can't just bust in there with nothing. That'll get us killed."

"Waiting will get Y/N killed." Wanda growls, slamming her fist on the table. Natasha places a calming hand on her shoulder.

"We're not leaving this room without a plan." Steve retorts, his eyes boring straight into Wanda's, daring her to make a move.

"Ugh!" She groans, throwing her hands in the air and storming out of the room.

Nat slides down in her chair, a hand draped over her eyes. A reassuring hand squeezes her arm.

"Don't worry. She'll understand eventually."

-=+=-

Wanda silently creeps through the dark hallways of the compound, her body illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the massive window of the living room.

The lights flick on and she stops in her tracks, like a burglar caught breaking into a home.

"You can't do this." Natasha steps forward into the light.

"I'm going no matter what. Even if it means I'll have to fight all 3 of you." She gestures to Bruce and Clint who also emerge from the shadows.

"Who said anything about stopping you?" Wanda's posture relaxes but her hands are still tense, ready to throw any one of them out the window at moment's notice. "We're not going to let you go and snatch all the glory now are we?" She smirks, tossing Wanda a parachute. "Come on. We're going to have to hit the ground running."

-=+=-

"When you said we had to hit the ground running, this wasn't what I had in mind," Bruce gulps, nervously wringing his hands.

"Scared of heights Banner?" Clint teases, an underlying tone of reassurance in his question. Bruce nods vigorously. Clint pats him on the back sympathetically. "Well, too bad." Banner's eyes widen as Clint pushes him out of the plane, watching to make sure his chute deploys.

"You didn't have to push him," Nat nudges Clint playfully. He scoffs.

"As if. He wouldn't have jumped if I didn't." He salutes to Natasha before jumping out of the plane, whooping as he goes.

A parachute smacks Natasha in the face as she fumbles to catch it.

"Wait, where are you going? You need the chute to land." Wanda smirks, waving her hand in front of her.

"Do I?" She leaps out of the plane, gentle red mist wrapping around her and guiding her downwards.

"Showoff." Natasha mutters, checking the straps of her pack before leaping from the plane.

-=+=-

Bullets rake the sides of the wooden crates, sending wood chips everywhere. Clint fires an arrow, sending a gunman down as he writhes around on the floor, electricity wracking his body.

"Where's Y/N?" Natasha yells over the roars of Bruce AKA Big Green.

"She should be on the 2nd floor, 4th hallway to the right," Clint answers, swiftly reloading his bow.

"I'm on my way," Wanda sprints past the Russian assassin, leaving her in the dust.

"Jesus," Natasha mutters, pulling her gun from her holster before running down the hallway after the young witch.

-=+=-

"I suggest you put your hands up before I blow her pretty head off," a deep voice echoes. Wanda watches as he places the barrel of the shotgun against your skull. You don't react, you eyes half closed.

She slowly raises her hands, watching as he smirks and signals for his henchman to grab Wanda.

A bullet pierces his skull and a second embeds itself in his friend's head before the first man hits the ground. Wanda whirls around to find Natasha, gun still smoking.

"You just couldn't wait," Natasha chides, nudging the dead man before hurrying to untie you.

Wanda doesn't respond, instead opting to cradle your broken face in her hands.

"Y/N? Y/N. Can you hear me?" One of your eyes opens, just barely and you mutter something, so faint that they almost miss it.

"Traitor."

-=+=-

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot @olsensnpm @peabrain-likes2read

[fortuositywritings]

The Great Animal Rescue

Summary: You should have minded your own business, but try saying no to a little girl who was crying for her cat. Now you are stuck in a tree trying not to embarrass yourself in front of the attractive individual who comes to your rescue.

A/N: This is a Skye/Daisy x reader short that is meant to give some background for them in I Said No

___________________________________________________________________

2:17pm

Y/N where r u??

You are stuck in a tree with no way down is where you are. You should really learn to say no to people. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place. You were on your way to meet your friends at the movies after stopping at an ice cream shop for a cone. You thought, why not walk the way there? It is only a few blocks away and it’s nice outside. 

So you began walking, licking your ice cream happily. It’s nothing compared to the ice cream shop in the small town where your cousin lives, but this one is still pretty damn good. Not two minutes into your stroll, the sound of someone sniffling made you pause. You hesitated to investigate where the noise was coming from, seeing that your cousin’s husband has given you plenty of lectures about stranger danger. You ignored the voice in your head saying he might have a point. He spends a lot of his time in New York; there are a lot of weirdos there. This is LA in broad daylight. The worst thing that could happen where you were at the moment would have been getting run over by an electric scooter. 

Clearly you were wrong.

It turned out to be some kid crying because her cat wouldn’t come down from the tree. You asked her where her parents were. She said they were inside the house and wouldn’t come outside because if the cat could climb up, it would eventually come back down. You told her they were probably right and were about to leave her there on the sidewalk but that was before she gave you some of the most adorable puppy dog eyes and a “please”. 

You asked the girl to hold your cone while you spotted the cat. It didn’t seem to be too far up into the tree. You started climbing up, grabbing a branch and hoisting yourself up. One branch made a on your green sweater, making you mumble in displeasure the rest of the way up to the cat. You should have listened to her parents as well. As soon as you had reached the cat, the damn thing ran past you and ran down the tree like a squirrel. You nearly lost your balance.

The girl thanked you even though you didn’t really do anything and ran inside her house after her cat, taking your ice cream with her. After mumbling to yourself on never falling for some puppy eyes again, you realized how far up you actually were. Your face blanched and your grip tightened around the tree branch keeping you balanced. 

You felt your phone vibrate and it took you 5 minutes to actually take it out to read the message. That’s where you are at right now. Trying to message your friend Ola back, typing with one shaky thumb.

2:23pm

Stuck intr ee two block sway help

Before pressing send, you think it over. Should you message her back? You know if you tell her to come rescue you, she would come with the rest of the gang and they would never let you live it down. Is it worth it? Better that than dying up here, you think.

Going to press send, your sweaty hand loses its grip on your phone and it falls onto the grass below. “Fuck!”

“Fuck!” Someone echoes from below, startling you in return. “Shit!”

You’re practically hugging the tree at this point. The person below you speaks to you, “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing up there?”

You hesitate to look down but brave the fear of looking down to see the woman talking to you. And what a spectacular view you have. Had you not already been weak in the knees from being so terrified, you would have some now from looking at this gorgeous person. She’s clearly waiting for your reply, so you clear your throat and say, “Rescuing a cat. What are you doing?”

“Walking to my van.” She points to the van across the street. “Where’s the cat?”

“What?” you ask. She raises an eyebrow at you. “You said you were rescuing a cat, but I don’t see any.”

“Very observant of you,” you point out, not answering her question. She narrows her eyes at you. “You’re not like some weirdo trying to peek into someone’s bedroom are you?”

You scoff. “What?! No! I’m one for one on rescuing cats, actually. It went back inside to its house.” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’re the one with the creepy ‘I’ve got candy inside my van’ van, so.”

Now this stranger looks embarrassed. “It’s for work.”

“Who do you work for? The CIA?” you joke, making the woman laugh. “They’d wish.”

It’s your turn to give her a questioning look at the odd response. She ignores it and loops back to you. “So if this great animal rescue went just like you said, why are you still up there?”

“To, uh-get better reception,” you lie. She looks at you unimpressed and you see why when she bends down to pick up the phone you dropped. “You mean for the phone that’s down here on the ground?”

You laugh nervously. She catches on when she notices how tight your hold on the tree is. “Are you sure you’re not just stuck up there?”

“What? Stuck? Me?” you laugh as if what she is saying is just offensive. “No, I just liked the peacefulness the tree provided. I dropped my phone on purpose. Yeah, I didn’t want it to distract me from really appreciating the beauty of the world around us.”

“Yeah, the McDonalds down the road really does look beautiful in the daylight,” she quips.

“It’s the wonder of the golden arches,” you retort, pulling a genuine laugh from the woman. 

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” she says. You dryly swallow, afraid that your chance at getting down from the tree will leave with her. She speaks up again. “But before I go, would you like me to send the message to Ola that somewhat reads ‘Stuck in a tree two blocks away help’?”

She smirks and you sigh at being caught. “Okay, truth is I’m deathly afraid of heights. I didn’t realize how high I actually was until I tried coming down.”

“Well, that’s okay. It is one of the most common fears,” she reasons.

“It’s embarrassing. I can’t even look at a plane without feeling nauseous.”

“Well, I think you’ve been doing well so far. Look how long you lasted up there while looking down towards me.” She points.

“That’s only because you’re a good distraction,” you confess. 

She begins to climb up towards you. “Aww, are you trying to call me beautiful?”

You blush and don’t say anything though the silence speaks for you. She finally gets to you. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now, let’s get you down this tree, Robin Hood.” 

“Robin Hood?” you question the nickname. “Is it because of the tree?”

“That. Also, the tights and green top pull it all together. We just need to get you a bow and some arrows and you’ll be set.” The irony at the fact that there are plenty of arrows and bows at your cousin’s house due to her husband’s profession isn’t lost on you. Unfortunately, any joke you could make about it would get you in trouble, so you just smile at the beauty trying to help you down. 

She offers you her hand and helps you get down the tree branch to branch with all the patience in the world. Not once does she complain about the death grip you have on her hand. When your feet feel the ground beneath them, you feel like crying. Instead you just let go of the stranger’s hand and try to get your heartbeat to settle down to it’s regular pace.

“Not too bad, see? Soon you’ll be bungee jumping,” she jokes.

“That’s a big leap from getting down from a tree.”

“Well, yeah. It’s bungee jumping. Leaping is the first half of the process,” she says sarcastically. You roll your eyes at her playfully. Then she smiles at you with a gleam in her eye as if she just had the best idea in the world. “How about we start with something smaller then? What are you doing on Friday?”

“Um, I don’t have any plans yet.”

“Now you do. Friday night, you will be taking the next step to conquering your fear of heights!”

“It’s not bungee jumping, is it?” you ask, petrified. As beautiful as this girl may be, risking your life for the chance to see this girl one more time doesn’t seem like a well thought out trade. 

“Calm down, Robin Hood. I was thinking more along the lines of getting you to ride the ferris wheel at the fair,” she reassures you, making you blush.

“Like on a date?” you shyly ask. God, you hope you didn’t just embarrass yourself.

“Like on a date.” She smiles at you and your heart feels like it’s skipping.

“Y/N.”  You throw out. She looks lost so you explain, “Every Robin Hood has a name for when they aren’t up in trees ready to rob rich people. Mine happens to be Y/N.”

“Skye.” She offers her name and you take it so willingly, letting it ruminate in your mind. “Here.” She pulls your phone out of the pocket she had put it in. She goes to your contacts and adds herself in before handing it back to you. You stare down at it in wonder. 

“Well, I think your friends might be waiting on you, so…” She begins walking backwards. “I’ll see you Friday, Y/N!”

She turns around looking both ways before jogging across the street towards her van. You see her pull into the street nodding at you before driving off. You wave back after the van, dumbstruck. “What the hell just happened?” You mumble to yourself.

****

“You know when you said I would be getting on the ferris wheel, I assumed you meant you would go on it with me,” you grumble, making your way over to Skye who was waiting for you by the exit gate of the ride. 

She reaches for your hand pulling you closer to her. “Some things, you have to learn to do alone. You just have to let the belief that something great will come out of pushing through your fear guide you through that fear.”

“I don’t think any funnel cake we get later was worth that experience,” you pout. 

“Okay, then how about this,” she says before pulling you in to kiss you. It doesn’t last long but you let it consume you for the seconds you have. You open your eyes when she continues, “and a second date?”

“Only if it ends just like that,” you counter. She kisses you again, the second kiss leaving you just as dazed as the first.

“Deal,” she agrees, pulling you towards the funnel cake truck. “Next date, Robin Hood takes on Six Flags!”

“Wait, what?!”

_____________________________________________________________________

So, just a side little thing for some Reader and Daisy/Skye context before she eventually shows up in I Said No. It feels like I’m giving this reader a whole Universe. The world does in fact revolve around Y/N. 

Obviously (or maybe not) I dropped some references to the other fic but really you could read either without needing to read the other (if it truly breaks your heart to see reader with anyone else).

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @paumxmff @wandamaximoffsrings @yeetus-thyself @lostandsearching @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2 @gingerbreadcookieforlife 

[basilly]

martial arts || p!multiple x fem!reader

. request:  can you write tommy, ranboo, and tubbo (platonic ofc) with a 14 year old fem streamer reader that is short, adorable, and has a cute voice; but is a master at all sorts of martial arts; have won lots of championships; and does not take shit from no one; mess with her and you’ll get an ass beat. doesn’t care if you’re from a different state or country, she will hop on a plane and be at your doorstep to give you a well deserved round house kick;;; but after that she’ll be all fluffy and adorable again 🥺🥰

. thank you sm for the request! sorry its so short, i had no ideas for this one

. pronouns: she/her

. first time you met- tubbo accidentally bumped into you 

. a bit mad, you were going to get off on tubbo but tommy argued in his stead

. a bit of a Drista thing

. but then as you guys argued/talked you became friends

. then you were introduced to ranboo through them 

. even though you could protect yourself, the boys would also be your protectors

. its like having three older brothers, you were like a sibling to them

. made sure no one made gross or weird comments in your streams

. if they had to, they’d speak up for you (but you’d probably do that for yourself)

. if someone sent a hate message- that even though was really funny to any of the boys, they would just know:

“uh oh- y/n’s not going to like that”

. they try to hide their hate comments from you so you wouldn’t get angry at people- they didn’t want drama

. they try not to make fun of your height- a little inevitable, you’re mucchhh shorter 

. they adore you though, don’t worry about it

. they support you all the way, whether it be sending you congratulation gifts or attending your championships

. tommy and you would have no problem telling people off 

. “y/n might be tiny and adorable- but she is downright terrifying” is what the fans would hear

. the boys are a little scared as they know how fast you can switch up from nice to terrifying

. they appreciate you a lot when you offer to fight their haters

an: i didn’t tag anyone since this one was so tailored to someone :)

[starlitangels]

You’ll Do Fine

So... I mentioned in my Small Gifts, Small Family one-shot that Ash went to Babe’s unempowered family’s for Christmas dinner... because I started writing this one first, and then changed directions and posted the Lasko-Freelancer-Gavin one on Christmas Day instead because I actually finished it first. Needed more time to write this one. Here’s Ash going with Babe to Babe’s unempowered family’s Christmas dinner! I know it’s way late. I don’t care 1.4k words. kinda short

—

“You’re nervous,” I stated.

Asher looked up. “What makes you say that?” he asked.

“I got you that fidget cube for last year’s solstice and you’ve barely touched it until today. But now you haven’t put it down for longer than a few seconds for the last six hours,” I said, flicking the turn signal on and changing lanes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing.”

“Asher,” I warned. He knew I never called him his full first name unless I was serious about something.

“Okay, fiiiiine. I’m nervous. We did this last year and I made a complete idiot out of myself in front of your parents within the first hour and your brother didn’t stop laughing for, like, five whole minutes and I just... I don’t want to immediately put my foot in my mouth again, babe.”

“Well... maybe think before you speak?” I suggested.

Asher barked a laugh. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him giving me a sarcastically raised eyebrow. “Babe. When have I ever done that?”

“Fair point.” I chuckled, braking as we got off the freeway and onto the exit ramp. “But, come on. My family liked you. My sister didn’t shut up about how cute you are to me for like, two months. Every time she texted me.”

“Yeah, but... your dad! He glared at me the whole night.”

“He did not,” I replied. “He was just giving you the look of, ‘If you break my child’s heart, I’ll break your face.’ And, let’s be real here, in a fight between you and my dad, you’d win.”

“Your dad is the same height as David. I absolutely would lose.”

“No you wouldn’t!”

“Baaabe! I can’t shift in front of your unempowered family without breaking covert and I don’t want to hurt your dad anyway. I’d lose!”

I laughed. “Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t actually hurt you.”

Ash sighed. “I’m sorry I’m nervous, babe.”

“Don’t be. I felt the same before the solstice parties. Both times.” I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Your pack is like your extended family and there are so many of them—and they are all physically capable of ripping my throat out. Do you know how terrifying that is to someone without powers?”

“They all love you!” Ash protested.

“They do now. But before I knew them... before my first pack meeting and the solstice party... I was so damn scared.”

“Sorry, babe.”

“It’s all good now, Ash. But that’s why you have no reason to be nervous. My family likes you. It’s just Christmas dinner. We eat great food, open a few presents, give a few presents, sing a few carols, and go home.”

“Great. Christmas karaoke. Love it.”

“Ash! You’re a great singer!”

“Not in front of your family!”

I rolled my eyes while we were at a red light. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“That’s me. Mr. Dramatic,” Ash said sarcastically.

I shot him a look. “Baby. You’re the most emotionally intelligent person I’ve probably ever met—”

“Wait till you meet a demon,” Ash interrupted.

“We don’t have the drive time to unpack what that’s supposed to mean, but to finish my point, you’re emotionally intelligent—and you’re smart. I know you’re impulsive and sometimes your verbal filter needs work around people who don’t know you so well, but there’s no reason to be nervous. You’re so sweet, Ash. My family likes you. I mean, hell, my mom asked about a month ago when I’m going to marry you. I brushed it off—but the point stands. They like you. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

Ash kept fiddling with the fidget cube. “Thanks, babe,” he said softly. “And, to put it simply, demons are part of the magical world. They’re from the plane where the rest of us empowered folks draw our magic from. They’re more powerful than any of us—but they feed on human emotions like we eat pizza and wings. And because of that, they’re all empaths. Which is like a telepath—except instead of reading your thoughts they can read your feelings. But each demon feeds on a certain type of emotion.”

“Like anger or sadness or joy or...?”

“Something like that. They’re not... common to run into, but empowered people usually meet at least one at some point in their life. Unempowered people might too, but they’d never know it unless they were informed.”

“Huh,” I said.

“Yeah. So... they’re probably more emotionally intelligent than most humans. Even me.”

“I guess I’ll take your word for that. But, still. You’re gonna do fiiine, babe. I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“One thing, before we get there, though,” I added.

“Shoot.”

“Perfect. I was about to say no swearing in front of my sister.”

Asher laughed.

—

“Mom! Dad! We’re here!” I called as I shut the front door behind us. Asher shook out his hair, sending water droplets flinging around. I laughed and put up my hands to block myself from getting wet. “Ash!”

He laughed and slung his arms around me from the side. “Gotcha, babe,” he teased.

My mom appeared in the front room. “There you are! Come here.” I broke out of Asher’s hold and gave my mom a hug. “Good to see you, honey,” she said.

“You too, Mom,” I replied.

“Come back to the kitchen. Dinner’s ready. We were just about to dish up.”

“Sounds great.” I held out a hand for Asher. He rushed over to it and wrapped his callused hand around mine. Mom smiled at our enclosed hands, then at Ash.

“How are you, Asher?” she asked pleasantly.

“Wait, is Ash here?” my sister’s voice said from the kitchen. Sounding excited.

I glanced back at him with an I told you so expression on my face. Asher chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand awkwardly.

Mom leaned between me and Asher. “Honey, I think your sister has a crush on your boyfriend,” she said.

I laughed and Asher smiled wide.

We rounded the corner to see my dad, brother, and sister milling about the kitchen.

Completely ignoring me, my thirteen-year-old sister rushed over and gave Asher a hug. I laughed and let go of his hand to go pick up a pair of plates. Christmas dinner with my family had gotten less and less formal since my brother and I had both moved out. Which was fine with me. This year it was take-home-bake pizza Mom had probably bought yesterday.

Everyone dished up and we moved to the dining room.

—

Caelum kept to himself in the corner of the dining room, a small smile on his face. Asher had so many knots before today, worrying about this dinner. Those knots were still there, but they were loosening a little. Which was good. There were good feelings all around the room. Caelum guessed that Asher’s partner’s joy was almost palpable to the unempowered humans of their family.

Caelum had been learning how to keep himself to himself when it came to caring for the charges that couldn’t see him. He couldn’t join in with Asher’s infectious laugh, but he could smile.

Asher had such a good laugh. He joked so easily and he was making his partner’s family feel so many good things. It was hard for Caelum not to laugh along, even if he was getting better at being quiet around the charges who couldn’t see him. The good feelings in the room were o—over... overflo... there were so many good feelings that it was easy for Caelum to feed off of them without anyone even noticing the amount going down a little.

—

“—do you call the photos on a turtle’s phone?” Ash asked my sister.

“What?” she replied with a big smile.

“Shell-fies!”

My sister cracked up, snorting her lemonade out of her nose. Which made my brother absolutely lose it, pounding his fist on the table as he coughed on pizza.

I reached under the table and squeezed Asher’s knee. “See?” I whispered. “You’re doing great. They love you.” I met his eyes. “I love you.”

He smiled at me. “I love you too, babe.” He leaned over and pecked a quick kiss on my cheek while my family laughed. I’d seen Asher in the lowest of his lows, but he really shone like the sun when he was goofing off and making people laugh. And I loved seeing him have a good time.

[kurowrites]

Aviophobia

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

---

It wasn’t like Wei Ying particularly hated air travel, not at all. After all, it was still the most practical way to travel long distances, and the distance between China and Europe was definitely long. The problem was that though he had just sat down in his seat, he was already horrifically bored. The airplane hadn’t even finished boarding yet, and there were around ten hours of flight still in front of him, and he couldn’t wait to arrive at his destination already.

He wasn’t looking forward to the flight, not least because he didn’t actually want to leave. After a year of not seeing her, Wei Ying had finally been able to take some time off and visit his sister, who had been living abroad with her stupid, loaded husband. He’d spent two weeks with Jiang Yanli and his little nephew, and it had been so good to see them again. A-Ling had grown so much! But now, a lot of work was waiting for him back at home, and he really needed to return, not sure when they would be able to meet the next time. That, he definitely wasn’t happy about.

Wei Ying distractedly fidgeted around in his seat, trying to keep in mind that it was no use to take out his laptop now, because the flight attendants would ask him to pack it up again for take-off in a few minutes. He had taken a book with him, anticipating this situation, but right now, the book seemed so unappealing he couldn’t even be bothered to unpack it from his backpack.

Come on, he mentally urged the passengers who were still moving along the aisles in search of their seat like a group of very slow snails, move faster, so we can leave.

Despite his best efforts, the other passengers did not speed up their pace, and so Wei Ying was cursed to sit there and wait until everyone was seated. He tried not to notice the usual offenders that managed to get in everyone’s way and blocked everything with their luggage, and tried to relax (rather unsuccessfully).

As he was idly watching the passengers pass him by, he caught a flash of white that caught his attention. Just when he was sure that his eyes were playing a trick on him, a man in a pristine white suit separated from the crowd and sat down right next to him. He pushed his briefcase under the front seat, fastened his seat belt, nodded to Wei Ying once, and then directed his glance straight forward, turning into a beautiful marble statue.

Wei Ying tried not to stare at his new neighbour too conspicuously, but he couldn’t really help it. The man seemed to be horribly out of place here in economy class, with a tailor-made white suit that very obviously was of high quality and therefore very expensive. His face equally set him apart from the other passengers, with a noble look and a bone structure that looked more suited to the cover of a fashion magazine. Wei Ying, in a simple hoody, soft jacket, and old jeans that were selected specifically for comfort purposes (after all, he would have to vegetate in them for ten hours), wondered how this unicorn had gotten lost among the common folk.

His seatmate was incredibly handsome, obviously wealthy, and… extremely stiff.

When the flight attendant finally announced that boarding had been completed, and that they were waiting for permission to proceed to the runway, the man next to him put his hands on both armrests, and for a second, Wei Ying was ready to be offended that this man hogged all the armrests for himself without consideration for the other passengers.

Then he noticed the man’s knuckles going white, his hands holding on to the armrests as if…

Wei Ying looked at the man’s face again. He was still staring straight ahead, his handsome face expressionless, his breath deep and controlled.

His eyes were fixed at some indeterminate point in the distance, and their focus did not waver at all.  

And they weren’t even moving yet.

Oh dear, Wei Ying thought to himself. Someone is not a fan of flying, huh.

He knew that a lot of people probably wouldn’t appreciate his meddling, but then again, he couldn’t sit there and do nothing while his neighbour was counting breaths or whatever the fuck he was doing to calm himself down. He wasn’t going to sit next to this man for the next several hours and pretend that he didn’t notice that this person was very obviously panicking.

So he reached out, and carefully put his own hand over the one currently clutching at their shared armrest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, as quietly as he could. “You’re not alone, and you’re going to be fine.”

The man sucked in a shocked breath the moment Wei Ying touched him.

Wei Ying was ready to draw back and apologise for his unrequested interference, Maybe he shouldn’t have touched him, maybe he had misread–

The hand under his turned around and grasped his own, holding him fast.

“I apologise,” the stranger replied in a faint tone of voice. “For my unseemly display.”

Wei Ying laughed quietly, relief washing over him.

“It’s alright,” he replied conversationally. “We all have our little burdens to carry. As for me, I am deadly afraid of dogs, and I will jump into your arms when I see one. Not that I have much shame to begin with, but my fear of dogs is definitely bigger than any shame I might have. There will be screaming and a general amount of unnecessary, very ugly drama.”

That, finally, had the stranger remove his gaze from the undetermined point in the distance he had settled on, and he turned towards Wei Ying.

Wow.

Wei Ying had been woefully underprepared for this event. The man was even more handsome, facing him directly, and Wei Ying was sure he had never seen such beautiful eyes.

How, he wondered again, had this man ended up in economy class? He should be flying a private plane, not panicking next to Wei Ying on a commercial flight. He should be someone’s trophy husband.

“Dogs?” the man asked him, as if a fear of dogs wasn’t an entirely normal phobia to have.

“Yes,” Wei Ying replied earnestly. “Have you seen them? So fast, and they make so much noise all the time, and their teeth. Ugh. It’s a completely rational fear to have!”

By now, the plane had moved onto the runway, and was starting the jets up.

The man clutched at Wei Ying’s hand almost painfully as the plane started to vibrate, but surprisingly, he did not look away from Wei Ying, steadily holding Wei Ying’s gaze.

“Well, so is a fear of flying, I guess,” Wei Ying mused as the airplane began to move. “But think about this: it’s far more likely to get mauled by a dog than to get involved in a plane accident. There are dogs everywhere, and you never know when one is going to come around a corner! And some owners really don’t know to handle their dogs. So, you see. My fear is much more rational than yours. Also, I did get mauled by several dogs in the past, you know. It’s not even a theoretical fear for me, I know exactly what those bastards are capable of. Dogs are horrible. Not to mention that it’s too late to do anything about your fear now, anyway. Look. We’ve taken off.”

The man kept clutching his hand and stared at him without replying. Wei Ying didn’t know if he even heard anything Wei Ying had said, what with the noise and the pressure in their ears. But the stranger never looked away, and he never let go of Wei Ying’s hand, so that was good, he thought.

Eventually, when the airplane had gained enough height to level off slightly, and the pressure on the diminished, his handsome neighbour finally let out a deep breath and turned his gaze away.

Wei Ying felt almost disappointed to be relieved of the heavy weight of his gaze.

As he had said, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ridiculous,” his neighbour murmured, eventually, after a long period of silence.

Wei Ying laughed.

“Hello Ridiculous,” he greeted, shaking their still-connected hands playfully. “My name is Wei Ying.”

The man’s head whipped around, and he sent him a positively offended look.

And then, after a beat of silence, he said,

“Lan Zhan.”

---

It needed some careful prodding and digging, but eventually, Wei Ying found out that Lan Zhan the reason why Lan Zhan was on this plain at all was because he had taken over the business trip as a favour to his older brother, who had been unable to travel.

Wei Ying felt the need to tease him for his self-sacrificing sense of familial piety, but he didn’t quite dare to tease Lan Zhan about it. After all, Lan Zhan had done a good thing, at the cost of his own suffering.

Lan Zhan was already bad enough when it came to flying as it was, but then someone had made a mistake with the booking, and he had been booked to fly economy rather than business class on his return trip. Lan Zhan, already at the airport and very troubled by the notion of having to fly, period, had not had the energy to discuss the mistake in his booking and decided to keep his assigned seat. After all, it hardly made any difference whether he was flying business or economy. He would spend the entire flight terrified, either way.

“Well, it was very lucky you ended up choosing economy,” Wei Ying mused. “Now you have a free emotional support pet for the entire flight.”

He grinned cheekily and wiggled Lan Zhan’s hand, still safely encased in his own.

Lan Zhan frowned at the joke.

“I thank you,” he replied regardless. “It is… much easier with you here. But I do not wish to trouble you with my… unfortunate condition.”

What a polite, honest man!

Wei Ying was delighted.

“It’s no trouble at all! You saved me from hours and hours of boredom, so it’s really not just you that’s profiting from this. Are you going to be fine when I have to go to the bathroom though?”

Lan Zhan frowned again, but nodded once.

“Good, good,” Wei Ying praised. “And if you wait for me very nicely, I’m going to get us some snacks from the kitchen. They never bring out the chocolate, which is a crime, really.”

---

In the end, after Wei Ying wheedled out information about Lan Zhan’s job and life for what felt like hours, Lan Zhan managed to relax enough to doze off for a little bit, and they spent the rest of their flight in a repeating pattern of chatting, dozing off, and then being woken up to be served questionable airplane meals.

When they finally touched down at their destination (Lan Zhan once again clutching Wei Ying’s hand as if it was the only lifeline that he had – and Wei Ying trying not to be too happy about that), they took their carry-on luggage and slowly ambled out of the plane, moving towards the baggage claim with the rest of the passengers.

Lan Zhan, as soon as he was out of the airplane and on solid ground again, straightened up and took on a confident stance.

Wei Ying was a little bit in awe. He looked even more handsome and formidable now, in his still pristine white suit. He was even taller than Wei Ying had first thought, definitely taller than Wei Ying, and Wei Ying mused whether there was anything about this man that wasn’t awe-inspiring.

(Well, there was that small case of aviophobia, but who could blame him for that, really.)

Wei Ying felt his hand twitch, and he sternly told himself that it was silly to wish for them to continue holding hands, now that they were out of the plane.

“Well,” he said awkwardly as he grabbed his luggage off the conveyor belt. He wasn’t quite willing to say his goodbyes yet, but he was equally unable to think of any reason to hold on to Lan Zhan’s company for a little longer. “I had a good time on our flight, Lan Zhan. Well. I guess you don’t really want to hear that. You probably had a horrible time. For your sake, I hope that you won’t come close to any planes for a while.”

“Wei Ying, too,” Lan Zhan replied. “For your sake, I hope that you will not meet any dogs suddenly coming around corners. So that you don’t have to leap into anyone’s arms.”

Wei Ying gaped, and as he stared at Lan Zhan in disbelief, he noticed the smallest uptick of Lan Zhan’s lips.

“Ayoo!” he cried. “Lan Zhan, are you teasing me? Look at you, all confident now that you are back on solid ground! Be a little more grateful to your emotional support pet!”

Lan Zhan nonchalantly picked his (very small, compared to Wei Ying’s big, lumpy one) suitcase up from the conveyor belt, and placed it next to his feet.

“I am grateful,” Lan Zhan said, serious again. “I have a car waiting for me outside. You are welcome to join me. I will drop you off anywhere in the city. As a sign of my gratitude.”

“Mmm,” Wei Ying made a considering noise. He didn’t want to say goodbye yet, not when Lan Zhan made him such a nice offer. But then, he was also really hungry.  

“I would love to get chauffeured around, but to be honest, I was planning on getting some decent coffee and a nice breakfast somewhere first. The food in that plane was horrible and I’m not functional without decent coffee.”

Lan Zhan was quiet for a moment.

“Can you wait for half an hour?”

“Huh?”

But before Wei Ying could ask him to elaborate, Lan Zhan was already herding Wei Ying towards the exit. He somehow managed to argue Wei Ying into accepting the car ride (Lan Zhan didn’t even argue, how that worked, Wei Ying sure didn’t know), and then Lan Zhan drove him to the nicest little shop for the most delicious breakfast that Wei Ying could have possibly wished for.

He was ravenous by the time they arrived, but he definitely wasn’t in a mood to complain as soon as the first delicious whiff of fresh coffee and food met his nose in welcome.

Lan Zhan was very attentive as they sat down to eat, generously plying Wei Ying with coffee, and letting him pick all his favourite foods. Wei Ying also learned that when Lan Zhan wasn’t scared for his life, he was remarkably smart and funny. It was so easy to get comfortable with him that Wei Ying had a hard time believing that they had never met until just one day ago.  

Lan Zhan was fun.

“Lan Zhan, you’re joking,” Wei Ying laughed, playfully swatting at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Your first serious family fight was because of rabbits?”

“They were very cute,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, insistent on the point.

Wei Ying leaned forward eagerly, meeting Lan Zhan’s serious mien with a big grin.

“And then, what happened with them?” Wei Ying asked. “Did your uncle cook them in a pot? Were you forced to eat rabbit stew?”

“The fourth generation now lives in my back garden.”

Wei Ying gasped. “You kept them?”

Lan Zhan showed the barest twitch of his lips. “Of course.”

Wei Ying nearly slid under the table at the sight of Lan Zhan’s proud little smile.

If Lan Zhan was trying to seduce him, then Wei Ying would consider himself sufficiently seduced by now.

Goodness gracious, that smile was criminal!

And he was the proud owner of a hoard of rabbits!

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You are a veritable little rebel. But, speaking from one pet to another, there is no way you can only tell me about your rabbits and not show them to me. That would be very rude.”

And on Wei Ying’s request, Lan Zhan took out his phone and showed Wei Ying his rabbit children. And then, since he had his phone out already, he shared his contact with Wei Ying. And when they had finished their breakfast, Lan Zhan led him back to the car and drove him home to his apartment, as promised.

When Wei Ying opened the door of the parked car, ready to hop out Lan Zhan stopped him.

“Thank you, Wei Ying,” he said, his beautiful, serious eyes gazing at Wei Ying steadily, as he had done in the plane. “For your help.”

Wei Ying laughed, and rubbed his nose.

God, he really liked the way that Lan Zhan looked at him.  

“For what it’s worth,” he replied quickly, “I’m willing to be Lan Zhan’s emotional support pet anytime.”

And then, because he felt like was too presumptuous and said too much, he hopped out of the car, grabbed his luggage, and weaselled away, to the safety of his apartment.

Once the door of the apartment was closed and his luggage thrown into a corner, he took a deep breath. He dug his phone out of his jacket to inform Jiang Yanli of his save arrival. She was probably wondering why he hadn’t sent her a message yet.

When he unlocked the phone, as expected, there was a message from his sister, asking him if he had arrived safely. However, before he could send a reply, his phone pinged with another message. A message not from Jiang Yanli.

[Lan Zhan, 11.46 am] I’ll take you by your word, Wei Ying. I might have to rely on your services again.

Suddenly, Wei Ying was glad that no one could see him here, hiding behind the door of his own apartment, as he blushed as red as a tomato.

This man!

[wanderingalicewrites]

Angel Wings

There’s a reason demons have better groomed wings than angels.

When Crowley discovers that Aziraphale has not groomed his wings since being in Hell, he demands that they end their celebration so Aziraphale can clean away the hell ash. Instead of letting him leave, Aziraphale asks Crowley for his help. What follows is perhaps the most intimate night of their relationship thus far.

—-

The night after the world did not end, Aziraphale finds himself watching Crowley lazing about contentedly on his old tartan couch. He looks so carefree, sprawled out as if determined to take up as much room as possible, more relaxed than Aziraphale has ever seen him. He has that right, he thinks. They both do. They are free now. Their own side. It is an invigorating thought.

He’s just starting to plan how to make his desires known, now that he can, when Crowley frowns, flicking a bit of ash off the sleeve of his jacket. With a small displeased sound he removes his jacket and shakes it out, dislodging a few more flakes of ash. He catches one on a finger and sniffs it, his frown depending.

Aziraphale blushes, embarrassed. He’d thought he’d gotten all the ash off of Crowley’s clothes when he returned from Hell. Obviously he was mistaken.

“Angel,” Crowley asks, scowling at the flakes - stark black pieces of ash against his pale skin. “Did you, ah, stop anywhere between Hell and the park today?”

Aziraphale shakes his head. He had taken a moment to miracle everything clean, but he’d been too impatient for anything else. “No. I went right there. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Right there? You didn’t stop to do anything at all?”

Again Aziraphale shakes his head, confused by the sudden urgency in his voice. “No. They let me out by the usual entrance and I walked right to the park to meet you.” He doesn’t say he’d been far too worried to think of stopping, terrified that he would get there and Crowley wouldn’t come.

Crowley sits bolt upright, a look of dawning horror on his face that Aziraphale does not understand. “Did you- have you groomed your wings since then?” There’s a note of carefully controlled panic now in his voice.

Aziraphale blinks at him, frowning. If another angel had asked about his wing grooming habits, he would have been horribly offended. There had been a time, once, when angels wore their wings openly. But that time was long past. Now, it was the height of impropriety to speak of, allude to, or, Heaven forbid, see another angel’s wings. Demons, he knows, have no such compunction. And Aziraphale is familiar enough with his own desires to recognize that speaking of such intimate things with Crowley is not just permissible, but something he very much wants.

“No,” he says, sensing that this is important to Crowley but not understanding why. “I don’t believe I have.”

Strangely, Crowley blanches. “Bloody Heaven, angel, why didn’t you say so? We could have waited to go to dinner.”

“I don’t see why. It’s not like they really need it-“

Crowley isn’t listening. He stands, agitated, glaring at his watch. “It’s been, what…? Six hours? Sooner’s always better, but you should still be safe. Go- Sa- Somebody, Aziraphale, you should have just said if you were waiting for me to go. Leaving it this late is reckless.”

“Crowley-“ Aziraphale stands too, watching him start towards the door and then abruptly turn back in the direction of the couch. He has no idea what’s going on here, but he hates seeing Crowley so upset, especially when they ought to have been celebrating.

“Really angel, I know we’ve been through a lot today, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. I should-um.” He stops to glance at Aziraphale, then turns away, blushing. “I’ll just- I’ll head out now. Let you get on with things. Give me a call tomorrow, yeah? We can-“

Aziraphale grabs his wrist as he reaches for the glasses on the edge of the side table. “Crowley,” he says when the demon goes still. “Stop. Look at me.”

Obediently, he turns his head to meet his gaze and Aziraphale is shocked to see that his eyes have gone fully yellow. Whatever is wrong has truly upset him, but he has absolutely no clue what it is, or why, when he’d seemed perfectly content just minutes ago.

“There,” he smiles encouragingly. “That’s better. Now, why don’t you tell me what this is all about, hmm?”

Crowley’s wide serpentine eyes scan his face, looking for what, Aziraphale couldn’t say. “You don’t know.” The words have the sound of a revelation.

“I would if you’d just tell me what you’re on about,” he snaps, frustrated, though he can’t exactly be blamed for being a bit irritable. It’s been a long eleven years after all.

“Your wings, angel,” Crowley tells him. “You went to Hell and you didn’t clean the ash from your wings.”

When Aziraphale still looks puzzled he scowls. “For- for satan’s sake, did they never tell you…”

“Tell me what?” Aziraphale asks, trying, for Crowley’s sake, to be more patient.

The demon’s face clouds over, and now he looks angry, but not at Aziraphale. At the archangels perhaps, or even Heaven itself. “Of course they didn’t. Probably hoped you’d wander down there by accident one day and whoops, there you go, so sorry it can’t be fixed. Fuckerssss.” His hiss at the end is enough to tell Aziraphale how serious this is, whatever it is. Crowley has to be truly furious or terrified to lose control of his voice like that.

Aziraphale squeezes the wrist he still holds, drawing his attention back to the hear and now. “What didn’t they tell me, dear?”

Crowley sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Hell ash,” he says. “I’m sure you noticed it down there. Fine grey particles, smells like sulfur, gets into everything.”

He nods. He had noticed it. He’d miracled as much of it out of Crowley’s clothes as he could once he’d gotten back to Earth, but he was sure there was still some he hadn’t managed to clear away, like the flakes Crowley had noticed earlier. It was insidiously stubborn stuff.

“Well it’s on the metaphysical plane too. Which means it also gets into your true form. And for some reason, it’s especially attracted to wings.” He makes a face, remembering some time or times when the ash had gotten into his wings.

“And that means…” Aziraphale prompts, when he doesn’t seem inclined to continue.

Crowley meets his eyes, the expression in his gaze qual parts sorrow and anger. “There’s a good reason,” he says, “why demons tend to keep their wings better groomed than angels. Those that still have them, at any rate.”

He gasps, suddenly hit with a terrible understanding. “You mean the ash…”

“If you get too much on you, or leave it there too long, it kills the feathers.”

“Oh.” He swallows. “Right. So I should…”

“Yeah,” Crowley nods. “Right away.” He tugs his wrist from Aziraphale’s limp grasp and snatches up his glasses. “I’m so sorry. I should have mentioned it sooner. I- I thought you knew, and I know how angels are about wings, but, well…” He sighs, starting back towards the door. “I’ll just, ah, leave you to it, shall I?”

In the old days, Aziraphale would have nodded, thanked him, and wished him a pleasant night. He would have dealt with his wings in private, as is proper, and might even have managed to get them all properly clean. Eventually, at least.

But this isn’t the old days. This is now. And he has turned way from Heaven. Chosen Earth. Chosen Crowley. They’re on their own side now. And he’s allowed to ask now for what he wants.

“No,” he says. Firm. Decisive. Crowley turns back to stare at him in shock.

“No?” He asks, expression carefully guarded.

“I, that is,” he blushes, suddenly stumbling over his words. Deciding to ask is one thing, he is realizing. Actually doing it is much harder. “I’d like it very much, if you would stay.”

(Read the rest on AO3!)

[buckyswintersoldiermask]

Acrophobia

Steve Rogers x reader

Steve Masterlist

Summary: you are afraid of heights and decide to try a small roller coaster at the fair, but the roller coaster gets stuck in mid-air

Word count: 1k

Warnings: mentions of being afraid of heights (Acrophobia)

A/N: my friend gave me this idea since she’s afraid of heights and I wanted to try to write it :)

You finally agreed to go with Steve to the fair this one time. Hoping you’d spend some time eating amazing and walking around.

“How about this one?” He asked as you walked in front of a roller coaster.

It was one of those roller coasters where it takes you up and down but you’re not as high as other coasters. It was a small roller coaster but your fear was anything but small. That roller coaster scared you.

“I-I’m not sure I can do it.” You stumbled, glancing at the roller coaster.

For as long as you can remember you’ve always been afraid of heights. Just the idea of being up high terrified you. Nothing made it happen, you’ve just always felt terrified. No planes, no roller coasters, nothing that has to do with being above ground. You did not do it.

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to ride it. I know how you feel about being high up.” Steve reassured you.

“I know, but I want you to have fun and I’m just getting in the way.” You honestly felt kind of bad, you wanted him to have a good time and you felt like you weren’t helping.

“I am having fun and you’re not getting in the way. We can just walk around some more.” He smiled, grabbing your hand.

The both of you were about to walk away but you didn’t move. You felt maybe you should try, maybe it’ll all work out and it’ll be fine. You’ll get on and get off, perfectly fine.

“(y/n), are you okay?”

“I want to try and ride it.” You blurted out as you stared at the ride.

“(y/n/n), you don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“No, I think I can do it. I think I can get through it.” You glanced over at him, “as long as you’re with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He said before kissing your cheek and leading you to the line.

There were a good amount of people in front of you so you could decide if you really wanted to do this. Steve stayed right by your side while waiting in line, rubbing your arms up and down soothingly.

“You don’t have to ride.” He said. He was always so sweet and patient with you. You couldn’t count how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to ride.

You smiled, “I want to ride a roller coaster with the man I love, even if it’s a small one.”

“I will be with you every step of the way.” He declared, kissing your cheek.

After watching the roller coaster and studying exactly what it would do, it was time. Time for you to get on the roller coaster. You and Steve walked on the platform of the roller coaster and went to your seats. Steve helped you get situated before helping himself. He glanced over to you and saw your eyes closed and your hands shaking. He grabbed your hand tightly in his and your eyes opened slowly.

“Every step of the way.”

The ride went up pretty fast, surprising you tremendously. You gasped for air as you tried to calm down from that sudden movement into the arm.

“Deep breaths, you’re okay. We’re okay.” Steve reassured you as your grip on his hand got tighter.

After memorizing the ride, you knew that in a few seconds the ride would drop. That drop never came. You were waiting and waiting for that drop but it never happened.

“Steve, why are we still up here?” You panicked, careful not to look down.

Steve looked down to survey what was happening and that’s when it hit him. You’re stuck up there. Stuck many feet in the air, for who knows how long.

“Darling, I think we’re going to be sitting for a while.”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“I think the ride is, well, messed up. They can’t get us down yet.” He mumbled, just so you could hear him.

You got quiet for a minute trying to process what Steve just told you. Wrapping your mind around the fact that you’re stuck multiple feet in the air on a roller coaster. At the fair, when you could’ve been eating more fair food.

“Oh wow this is absolutely terrifying. Oh my god!” You exclaimed as you closed your eyes. “The one time I try to ride a rollercoaster and I get stuck on it!”

“Hey, I’m here. Everything is going to be fine. Deep breaths, in and out. We’ll be down soon.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, all the other riders got on, went up 2 times and down 4 and got off. This is not going to plan!” You exclaimed, visibly freaked out.

You gripped his hand as hard as you could which would probably leave a mark. You practiced taking deep breaths and humming to yourself. Steve talked you through everything that was happening on the ground so you would know when they’re almost done.

“A couple of maintenance guys are going to check the ride while the other ones check the buttons and levers that control the ride. We should be getting down soon.”

After about 20 minutes one of the maintenance guys called out;

“Alright folks! We found the problem, you'll be coming down now!”

“You hear that? We’re going to get down and we don’t ever have to ride this again.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna do this again.”

You finally started to go down and you could breathe a little. Once you got on the ground Steve jumped out of his harness and helped you get out. Knowing you’d wanna get away from the ride he was as quick as possible.

He grabbed your hand and helped you off of the platform and completely off the ride. He stopped and faced you, looking deep in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your afternoon here.” You apologized, holding onto yourself feeling kind of guilty.

“What? Baby, what are you talking about? You got on a ride that you were terrified of, and then it had us in the air for a while. I couldn’t be more proud of you. But I know that was very scary. We can go home if you like?”

“I want you to buy me some more fair food.” You smirked.

“Your wish is my command.”

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[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎-𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑊𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝐴 𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, promoting, nor romanticizing yandere or mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: This reaction contains scenes of violence, blood, death, and other material that might not be suitable for some people. Reader discretion advised.

❧𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

The fact Hongjoong seemed completely unfazed by you throwing the stack of papers on his desk was starting to frighten you.

"Aren't you going to look over them?" You asked him when he made no move nor any sound.

Hongjoong hummed softly before taking the packet and merely flipping the pages.

"I'm not going to ..... if you want me to sign over the papers, I'll gladly do it right now."

Now he was terrifying you. There was no way he was going to give in that easily.

You knew him too well.

Hongjoong smirked when he saw your suspicious look.

"Just get it over with so I can leave. It's almost time to pick up our son."

"Actually honey........ you won't find him there." He said as he picked up the ballpoint pen next to him.

Your head snapped up at him.

"What? What are you saying?! If you hurt my-"

"Our son, at least he still is at this moment, and you know I'd never let a single hair of his get harmed...."

Hongjoong hovered the pen above the dotted line at the bottom of the page.

"But I'm letting you know now Y/N, the second I sign these divorce papers, is the second you'll no longer be his mom or ever see him again."

There it was, just as you feared. He was blackmailing you into staying.

"Still want me to sign them?"

❧𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Seonghwa sipped his tea calmly. Taking a quick glance at the clock, he let out a soft chuckle.

"She'll be here any minute."

Sure enough, just as the clock struck 10, the doors bursted open. He barely batted an eyelash at his wife who was now caged in between 2 very tall and muscular men who were carrying her in the room. Y/N swung her legs around, trying desperately to free herself but it was no use. They managed to sit her down at the opposite end of the table.

"Sit the fuck down."

Seonghwa's voice boomed throughout the dining room, and Y/N immediately abandoned her plan of running out the door once the security guards left. Seonghwa was even more menacing than them combined.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhaled and then released a heavy sigh.

"Seriously? You start acting up these last few days and I let it go because I'm trying to be patient...."

Reaching for something underneath his plate, he threw it across so it landed right in front of Y/N.

"But that is the last straw."

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa was right in front of her, harshly gripping her chin as he made her look into his cold and fiery eyes.

"Let me make this clear Y/N: you're my wife. I own you..... and I won't let you go around embarrassing me with some divorce shit."

Letting go of her, Seonghwa shoved her face away rather harshly.

"As if marrying you in the first place wasn't humiliating enough...."

❧𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

"Y/N....what are you-?"

When Yunho got the call from the lawyer telling him that you had filed for the divorce, he refused to believe it. He just couldn't believe it. He loved you, and you obviously loved him. It had to be a mistake.

But when he came home and found you packing the last of your things, reality hit him. You kept refusing to answer his questions, merely brushing past him as if he didn't exist. Getting frustrated, Yunho gripped your arms and held you in place.

"For God's sake Y/N! Why can't we just talk about this?! Talk to me! We have to work this out!" He didn't realize he began to shake her rather violently.

"There's nothing to work out here Yunho! I'm sick of all this! I'm sick of your possessiveness and I'm done!" You cried out.

"No baby please don't! I promise you I can change! Just please don't walk out on me!"

He embraced you tightly when you tried to push him off, his height and strength making your attempts at pulling away futile. His desperate sobs began to make you feel guilty, making you start to regret your decision......

But the still rational part of you refused to give in. You had to get out....

Even if you ended up destroying Yunho and yourself in the process.

❧𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang stared coldly at you. He had just finished reading the documents and he was definitely not amused. Without even blinking or moving his gaze from you, he ripped the papers in half, throwing them onto the floor.

"You've really gotten more brazen these past months." He noted.

"What can I say? I learned it from you." You spat back.

Yeosang lifted his hand but stopped himself midway. Clenching his fist, he took a deep breath before snapping his fingers. One of his guards immediately came up to you and landed a harsh slap to your cheek. Although it stung like a bitch, you refused to let any tears spill out and opted for keeping a straight face, knowing it'll piss him off even more.

"You can't keep me locked here with you forever Yeosang." You told him.

Raising an eyebrow at your challenging words, Yeosang hissed out:

"Oh no? Watch me."

He walked out of your room, motioning for two of the guards to stay positioned at your door. He glared at you as he closed the doors, the sound of them being locked resonating throughout the room.

Now you definitely were trapped.

❧𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

When they brought the documents to San and he took a look at them, he was furious. He actually got his gun out and shot the messenger dead with a bullet to the head.

"Where is she?!" He demanded.

"We don't know sir." One of his men replied.

"Well I'm giving you 1 hour to find her unless you want me to skin you all alive and feed you to the dogs. This is an order: find my wife and bring her back here. Do not harm her and most of all, do not allow her to try anything..."

San knew you were crazy enough to end your own life before allowing yourself to be taken back to him. You had already tried running away years before, which resulted in him caning your back so severely that it took you months to fully recover and to walk properly again. You remember when he warned you that if you tried anything like that again, he would not hesitate to torture you to death.

"I want her here! And I want her here alive! Do you understand me?!" He roared at his men.

"Sir yes sir!"

The men quickly sparsed themselves out, dedicated to finding you and bringing you back to your devil of a husband.

San looked out the window, his eyes squinting in rage and disgust as he looked at the city lights beneath him.

"I'll find you Y/N, you can't hide from me forever. Even if I have to set the entire city on fire and burn it to the ground, I will find you...

And I will kill you. "

❧𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi grunted, his fist once again colliding with the poor man's face which was already badly bruised and dripping insane amounts of blood. But it wasn't enough for Mingi. He was livid, he was like a beast, and most of all, he was going insane after being told that not only you had filed for divorce but that you had actually left the country to god knows where.

"Fucking christ! Where is she?! Why can't any of you give me any answers?!" He shouted at the terrified people behind him.

"S-sir, we're trying our b-best.." they tried to explain.

"Well obviously, it's not good enough!"

Reaching his limit, he violently bashed the man's head against the concrete wall, cracking his skull open as blood spurted all over Mingi's shirt, neck and jaw, effectively putting an end to the man's suffering.

"Sir? We got a confirmation."

Mingi's eyes lit up instantly when he heard that. His subordinate showed him the coordinates of where you were located and even got a hold of the hotel room you were staying in.

Not able to wait any longer, Mingi gave orders for his plane to be prepared. Getting out his phone, he immediately called your room, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst out his chest.

"Hello?"

He stopped breathing for a moment when he finally heard your voice.

"Baby? Please wait for me.....

I'm coming for you."

❧𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow at you.

"Do you want to die?" He questioned you.

"Why? Are you offering?" You counteracted him.

"Don't fucking test me cause I can easily arrange it."

Whether it was you feeling a little more brave or you simply had forgotten the kind of man Wooyoung really was, you had the audacity to scoff at him.

"But you won't Wooyoung. You're not going to kill me. Cause you're so puffed up with pride and power and with this obsessive need to control me, that if you kill me, you'd lose that power....."

You smirked at his shocked expression.

"And you can't have that now, can you?"

Wooyoung lifted his hand to slap you, but you quickly evaded it, landing a punch to his stomach that had him doubling over. You began running away, almost reaching the door when you cried out in pain as a loud bang sounded through the room. You clutched your leg as blood poured out from your shin, meanwhile Wooyoung strolled over to you, gun in his hand.

"You're right..... I won't kill you...

But that doesn't mean I won't hurt you.."

❧𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho's eye and hand began to twitch as soon as he saw you walk in with Yunho, not liking your close proximity.

"Yunho....... distance." He reminded his friend.

Yunho looked over at you, who were now trembling slightly. Now Yunho understood why you begged him to accompany you for this. Sighing, Yunho merely walked up to Jongho and handed him the folder in his hands. Jongho furrowed his eyebrows as he peered through the contents. He immediately threw them on the floor in outrage.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?!" He demanded to know.

You winced at his tone of voice and immediately stood behind Yunho for protection, which only enraged Jongho more.

"I swear to God, if you're leaving me for him.."

Jongho walked up and tried to tear you away from Yunho, but luckily Yunho intervened and kept him from landing a finger on you.

"Let me go you fucking bastard! How dare you take my wife away from me!" Jongho accused him.

"First of all it's not like that and as long as I'm here, I won't let you hurt her! Jongho you've got to stop!"

But being stronger than the taller male, Jongho easily shoved him to the floor. He then proceeded to corner you in the wall, pining your arms as he slammed you against it. Yunho now panicked and accidentally blurted out:

"Jongho stop! You'll not only hurt her but the baby-"

Yunho immediately clasped a hand over his mouth as he realized he said what you wanted to keep secret. Jongho looked at Yunho then at you, who had fear written all over your face. Jongho softened up a little as his hands clasped around your stomach.

"And you still tried to leave me...?"

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter fourteen

Chapter fourteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: talks of spencers major anxiety, parental death tw (not Diana or bob and Linda), trauma talks, computer hacking and new members joining the family...

word count: 4k

from the beginning <3

Taylors biggest surprise that weekend was what she had planned for Amoreena that night.

She set up a fort in the theatre room, they had every snack imaginable and any movie of her choice to watch. Karaoke in the corner, popcorn being popped in a theatre-style machine, and 3 different, matching child and adult, princess dresses for them to choose from.

It was all an elaborate plan to keep her preoccupied until bedtime, which Taylor offered to handle so that her parents could have a little wedding night date alone.

They’re all ready for a wonderful night when Spencer’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Spencer answers, sneaking away from the girls so he could hear better.

“Spencer, I am so sorry to interrupt you this late, but we have a situation… it’s not something that should be discussed over the phone. Do you have someone to watch Amoreena while you and Y/N come into the bureau? As soon as you can?”

His stomach drops, he feels instantly sick. “Not until you tell me who’s dead, who’s dying or who’s trying to kill us.”

“No one is, Spencer, it’s not a case or criminal related, it’s… personal, someone is here to see you,” she sounds serious and Spencer is still just as worried.

“I’ll tell the girls,” he responds before hanging up.

Y/N is standing right behind him, listening with wide eyes as she waits to soothe his panic. They worked like a well-oiled machine, she could physically feel his anxiety and in return, something about her just being there made him physically feel better.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks as she appears behind Y/N, Amoreena now off changing into one of the dresses she picked.

“They won't tell me on the phone but they need me and Y/N back at Quantico as soon as possible,” Spencer explained with a pale face, “we can go in the morning.”

“I’m fine watching Amoreena for the night, there’s a hanger down the road with a few of my dad’s planes, I can have someone take you to Virginia within the next hour? It's only 7 pm, I’m sure you can be back before bedtime?” Taylor offered her services for the 100th time that day, “It’s not a problem, really, and they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious, they’re the FBI after all.”

With that, they said goodbye to Amoreena and told her they’d be back before she woke up in the morning. If not, she had Y/N’s cellphone for the night to call them before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, so she won't bother Taylor that early. (Even though Taylor said she wouldn’t mind early morning Amoreena cuddles.)

He was anxious on the drive to the small airport, the old man named Norman, chartering them that night was incredibly kind, they were granted lading access in Quantico and before he could prepare, they were up in the air. He chatted up a storm with Y/N on the headset radio as Spencer overthought the upcoming chat with JJ and stared out at the world below them.

On queue, he jumped from anxious to scared when they land, before getting in the shuttle from the airstrip to the front entrance, but he’s so incredibly terrified when it comes time to actually start the walk to the bullpen.

“Will you come in with me?” His small voice asks as she is pinning a visitors tag on her shirt.

“Of course,” she smiled, taking his hand as they walked into the elevator together.

He grips her hand tighter as the elevator stops, dipping and returning to the right height and making his stomach drop the same way a rollercoaster would. He hated that feeling more than anything, having it alongside the anxiety wasn’t helpful.

He can see JJ and another girl sitting together at his old desk. She’s smiling at whatever JJ says, she looks exactly like Amoreena just with box-dyed black hair that shines purple under the lighting. She’s in all black, she pushes her glasses up her nose with her sweater hiding her hands, Spencer knows she’s a foster kid from just her posture.

“JJ,” Spencer makes their presence clear and the little girl turns to him with a huge smile, running to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hi?”

She’s sobbing ten and he doesn’t know why or even who she is, he lightly holds her with complete shock on his face. He stares at JJ with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he communicates the confusion and terror with his eyes.

“This is Josephine Elliot, or Jo as she likes to be called, her parents passed away a few months ago and she recently found out her biological father was actually a sperm donor and not her moms husband,” JJ explains a little before sighing and sitting on the edge of the desk.

“She hacked into the sperm bank and found your name, and google led her to the FBI and they stopped her at the second gate, the first only let her in thinking she was your other daughter, Amoreena.”

“I’m so sorry,” the poor girl wipes her tears with her sweater sleeves, “I don’t know why I hugged you when you don’t even know me, ew sorry.”

Spencer pulls her back into a hug, “it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about wanting a hug ever again. You can have whatever you need from me.”

She cries more, holding on to his shirt as he holds her, shushing her softly and rubbing his hand over her back. It’s weird how safe she seems this early in their acquaintance with one another, but he understands it. She’s so desperate for someone related to her to love her again, to replace what she was missing from her parents, that she’s already accepted him as a father without thinking it through. Without even know what he would be like to her.

When she finally calmed down enough, Spencer led her towards the briefing room so they could have a moment alone to talk. He wanted to know her, and she needed to know him before she made another big decision. He let her know who he was, what he used to do and the rundown on his relationship with Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you met her at the park and got married a week later because you both have dead exes and somehow through fate, you made a kid together?” She summed it up in a way that made it sound ridiculous.

“Mutual trauma is a great bonding tool, I’m sure you probably listen to rock music or anything sad and angry because you know someone feels the exact same way you do? I was like that when I was a teenager. We've both lost someone we loved and then made Amoreena out of pure luck,” he combated her snarky summary with his own profile of her.

“I actually like Taylor Swift, Paramore, Evanescence and Olivia Rodrigo when I need to scream about being sad, thank you very much,” she teased him, finding a very easy rhythm as they got to know one another.

“You’re going to lose your mind when you find out who’s with Amoreena right now,” Spencer smiles, somehow everything just fits together.

“What?” She looks so confused, scrunching her face the same way he did to push her glasses up without her hands.

“It’s a long story, but essentially we were at Taylor Swift’s house when JJ called, she’s watching Amoreena still,” Spencer explained, watching her jaw drop.

“Who the fuck are you, dude?” She whispered, and it took Spencer by surprise. “Sorry, I’m so used to swearing in front of adults lately to get my point across. But seriously, you’re so interesting…”

“Understandable,” Spencer laughs lightly at her strange compliment. “I have a lot of connections, and I’ll do anything to see the people I love, smile, that includes you now.”

“You barely know me and you’re just ready to accept that I’m your kid? Didn’t this just happen to you last week?” She laughs at the insanity of it all, “you’re going to have a million kids at this rate, dude.”

Again, she calls him dude and he knows she’s just trying to distance her emotions as they grow fonder and fonder. A coping mechanism so that she doesn’t get hurt anymore, she’s lost too much and she’s not going to love him just to lose him too.

“My dad ran out on me when I was a kid, I basically raised myself when my mom’s schizophrenia got bad, I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with people who are supposed to love you,” he makes sure she knows who he is inside.

“I’m sorry,” she reaches a hand out for him, holding it softly. “I never really liked my dad growing up, he always felt off… I can’t explain it, but he was never the same guy twice he was either angry, miserable or scarily happy," she explains him and all Spencer can think is how he sounds like an unsub.

"I do miss my mom a lot, I didn’t know what else to do when I found out they couldn’t have babies together and she went to a Sperm bank without telling him. I know the names of your other kids too, besides Amoreena, I’m really surprised you found her mom without hacking the system too but, yeah, Dylan is 6 and Alice is 10, they’re both in DC with the same 2 mom’s, so if you didn’t want me, I was going to see if they would cause I’m technically their stepdaughter in a weird way and if I spent one more day in that foster home I would have ended it all,” it's a Reid rant, she's his for sure.

It takes him a minute to absorb it all, “wait, Amoreena is mine for sure?”

She nods like it’s a stupid question, “could you not tell my just looking at her? The 3 of us have the same face.”

“No, they wouldn’t tell us at the clinic,” Spencer is still in shock but more so that she got into the database so easily, “how did you do it?”

“It was easy, I had all the information about the sample my mom used so I just encrypted an email to the secretary of the sperm bank so as soon as she clicked the link to read more I’d have access to her computer, they didn’t even know I was in the system, they probably still don’t know I was there,” she explains it exactly how Penelope would.

“I don’t want you to think I’d ever not want you,” Spencer holds her hand a little tighter, “I’m not sure what the process will be like trying to get the foster agency to agree to me taking you home with us, but I’ll see what I can do. We have a big house and enough room for you in our hearts if this is where you’d like to be. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, you might hate the farm life and the isolation and all the cousins you now have, but you’re a piece of me and I’m not letting you go.”

She uses her free hand to wipe her tears on her sleeve again, “please, I know it’s not going to be the same but I miss having a family so much.”

He wraps her up in his arms, he knows the feeling all too well. One day his mom was there, the next day she was gone and no one prepared him for that. She never had to do this alone, Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

“Y/N is wonderful, you’ll love her and Amoreena. We live on a huge farm and there’s a lot to do during the day and people to spend time with, believe me, you’re going to feel so surrounded by the love you won’t know what to do with it all,” he shares from personal experience.

“Okay,” she hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck as he talked more, feeling the vibrations of his voice on her forehead to know that he was real. That his words were true and she was going to be taken care of.

“Is there anything about yourself that you’d like me to know? Or any questions you have? I’m sure this is going to be an interesting adjustment,” Spencer asked as he pulled away, looking down into her sweet eyes and seeing the hope she was still hanging on to.

“Is Y/N even okay with all of this? It’s her house isn’t it?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, she knew I had you and the other 2 out there somewhere, we just never expected to meet you so soon,” he’s as honest as possible, talking to her the same way he would with Henry, she seemed even more mature than him.

“Can she come in here too? I’d like to get to know her as well, see if she’s really as lovely as you say she is,” she smiled, coping with her trauma the same way he and Y/N did, with humour.

Almost like Y/N could feel him thinking about her, she knocked on the door before opening it a crack, “sorry, I have some updates,” she smiled.

Josephine smiled at her, “come in.”

Y/N sat down close to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “my sister is a foster parent, she called her caseworker and they were able to rush the emergency next of kin paperwork, you can stay with us for as long as you would like to.”

“You’re serious? You barely know me?” She kept repeating that as if she convinced herself earlier in the day that they wouldn’t want to know her.

Y/N wrapped her up in a soft hug and Spencer saw all the tension leave Josephines body as she settled against her. It had been a long time since a mother held her, she didn’t realize how much she needed it until she was in her arms.

“You’re half Spencer, so by default you have a portion of my heart now too. I’m not going to love you as an obligation or because I feel like I have to, I love you because you’re part of him and our family,” she whispers into her hair, “I know what it’s like to be alone, you never have to be... unless we’re smothering you then I get it, but you know what I mean.”

She laughed in Y/N’s arms before pulling back. Y/N held her face in her hands and looked at her gently. She ran her fingers through her dyed hair, “you’re going to fit right in with the 4 of us.”

“Four?” She repeats, wondering who else they lived with.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/N smiles as Josephine lights up.

“I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she cried a little, “my mom named me after Jo from Little Women, she said she always planned to give me lots of sisters.”

“If this one is a girl she’ll be Eleonora like—“

“Like the poem, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favourites,” Jo smiled again.

Somehow, without even being there, Amoreena’s mess of glitter glue was able to patch her older sister's broken heart right then and there too.

“I read really fast, my mom said she was going to go bankrupt buying books for me,” she opened up more and more, the hurt of the memories fading as she remembered them with happiness instead of mourning.

Her mom was gone, but the love of a mother filled her space once more. Y/N took her under her wing, keeping her warm and making sure he grew to be as happy healthy and wonderful as all her other babies.

—

They arrive at Taylor's door once again at 11:30. Amoreena is sound asleep in the spare room, not even able to change out of her princess costume or phone them to say goodnight. Taylor said she had a sugar crash and just asked to go to sleep, reminding Taylor that she had the best day ever before closing her tired little eyes.

Jo was very anxious to meet Taylor too, telling her a similar story to Y/N’s from just a few hours prior. Taylor made sure she was comfortable for the night in another spare room, making her a hot chocolate and some snacks from earlier that day at lunch. She was the best host, a wonderful friend and an even better honorary godparent to these girls of Spencer’s.

“Can I have a hug?” She sheepishly asks before she has to turn down the hall to her bedroom for the night.

Spencer answers by wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest once more, he wasn’t sure how his heart could hold so much love for these girls, and still have room left to make more one day. It was a dream come true to have a family this big, no one was going to believe that he gained 3 kids and a wife in under a month.

He kissed her on the forehead gently, seeing her smile at the contact let him know it was fine. “Goodnight dad,” she whispers, pressing her lips together awkwardly the same way he did before turning down the hall and disappearing into her room.

She had only a backpack of things currently, not expecting everything to go as smoothly as it did. She had enough clothes to sleep in, and Taylor happily provided some old tour perch to her just in case she needed something new to wear. Something to help her ease to sleep that didn’t feel like she was going back to her old life in the morning.

Amoreena was going to have a field day tomorrow when she met her big sister, the beautiful girl who was busy covering her scars with bandaids provided by Spencer, but it would take a lot of time, effort and care to make her feel truly healed again. It was going to be interesting seeing Amoreena adjust to sharing him so early, especially since he knew Jo would need so much more attention to ease her anxiety moving forward.

Spencer sat on the guest bed beside Y/N, noticing all the rose petals and candles on the dresser and night tables, “oh she really had a lot planned for us.”

“She’s the fairy godmother of our dreams,” Y/N agreed with a laugh. “I don’t mind staying up late tonight if you don’t mind leaving on Monday instead?”

“I was going on suggest the same thing,” he smiled at her, leaning in to press their lips together gently for the first time since the wedding that afternoon.

“let's get into our comfy’s and go for a walk on the beach, Taylor left me the keys to lock up when we come back,” she whispered the words against his lips before smiling.

“Can I call Derek before we go? I really need to talk to him,” he’s honest with her as he pulls away, feeling really anxious and shook up at the events of the day. He needed his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ll go check out the rest of the guest house, come find me when you’re done?” She says softly, getting off the bed with a smile and stepping out of the room with a small wave.

He takes his phone out and dials the number, waiting with the phone pressed against his ear as it rings. Again and again, every new hum in his ear making his heart beat faster, “hello?” He’s finally rescued.

“Have you talked to anyone on the team lately?”

“Who died?” It was everyone’s go-to question when they got a phone call like this one.

“No one, quite the opposite actually—“

“She’s pregnant!” Derek shouts, cutting him off and Spencer can hear Savannah asking who from the background.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I'm calling,” Spencer replies only to be met with Derek's laughter.

“Penny and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“She cheated because she knew we were trying,” Spencer takes the fun from him, Penelope always won. “I have another kid.”

“I know man, birth is so cool— well I’m telling him anyway,” Derek is clearly talking to Savannah and him at the same time, “we’re pregnant again too.”

“No, Derek, I’m pregnant and sick as hell while you’re perfectly fine,” she snaps back at him as she takes the phone. “You better be so kind to her Doctor Spencer Reid; rub her feet, make her breakfast, thank every god on earth and the ground she walks on for being willing to make another version of you, do you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Spencer hold back a laugh, wondering when Y/N would have a hormonal switch like that, “but I didn’t mean the one in her stomach, another fully formed human of my creation walked into the BAU looking for me today.”

There’s a rustling through the phone as Derek takes it back from her, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“Her name is Jo, she’s exactly a month younger than Henry and her parents died 7 months ago,” he continues without even repeating the last part, “Derek I have 3 kids now and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Where are you right now?”

“In Taylor Swift's guest house.”

“Spencer, be serious with me, are you doing drugs again?"

“Ask Penelope, she contacted Portia, Rossi’s stepdaughter, who contacted Taylor so I could help Y/N and Amoreena meet her, then JJ called and made us fly all the way to Quantico and now I have 2 children living with me and one on the way. Not to mention, child 1 is extremely jealous about sharing me with people and hasn’t even gotten accustomed to being a big sister, and child 2 is so traumatized she hacked the fucking sperm bank and explained it to me like it was as easy as making a sandwich. I am in over my head here, Derek.”

“Okay, that sounded more like Spencer Reid,” Derek’s calm and happy voice calms him slightly and prompts him to take a deep breath. “If she’s able to hack she’s most likely like Penelope, we can introduce them. She’ll need someone who understands the loss of a parent. Amoreena, on the other hand, you need to spend a day with just her. Take her to the movies, or to see a play or something. Let her know she’s always going to be your little girl no matter how many siblings she gets.”

“Thank you, I needed someone who wasn’t my overly optimistic wife to tell me if I could do it,” he’s overly honest, Derek is his person and will always be his person.

“I get it, thanks for calling me, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he can hear Derek's smile and all he wants is a hug from him. “How was the wedding?”

“Good, we all cried a lot,” he laughs then, “we were supposed to have a big dinner on the beach before we got called into Quantico, so I’m going to go spend time with her now, I love you, Derek,” he rushes the words out so he doesn’t get overly emotional.

“I love you too, Spencer, have a good night,” Derek hands up before they both get too emotional. They always had a knack for making the other cry in times like this.

He lets out a deep sigh before tossing his phone on the bedside table. 3 of his 5 kids were here with him and Y/N now, safe and sound. If anyone else needed him, they could wait.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

[junicai]

frozen hearts.

| summary | Aria and Yuta bonding, feat. some less than pleasant discoveries.

| word count | 2.5k

| warnings | bad parenting (?), neglect

| era | circa. 2014 through 2017

Underneath a frozen river, the water will keep running in a steady flow. It doesn’t care for the layer of ice blocking it out from the world; it has a sole purpose. To continue flowing, to continue rushing down the side of the slight hill. Rivers don’t stop for a cold snap.

Similarly, frozen hearts still beat despite their layer of black ice covering the outer shell. They are hard, and cold to the touch - almost unbearable to carry for any length of time - but they have warm blood rushing through them regardless. 

The thing is, about frozen hearts, is one cannot be born cold. 

Each life begins flooded with light and love and happiness and warmth; it fills up each corner of your vision and everything is bright, bright, bright.

Like a pot slowly brought to the boil, or the temperature slowly dropped degree by degree - you’ll freeze without even knowing it.

Aria likes to believe that’s what happened, at least. She can’t resent them, not as much as her head begs her too, for her heart pounds against her chest screaming no.

Too many fond memories filed away to be taken out and gazed upon with a bittersweet smile curling her lips makes for an impossible task when asked to burn the bridge connecting them.

Part of her was reluctant to let go, because she still needed them, still wanted their care and their comfort like she had once received in mountains. Like a drug, it had been snatched away from her without warning, and now she was an addict weaning herself off of it, trying to ignore the pang in her chest.

The other part, was scared. Terrified even. Scared that should she burn the bridge, should she cut the final chord, that they wouldn’t even feel it at all. 

Call her cruel, but Aria wanted them to feel the pain she did when the bonds were snapped. 

But how can a frozen heart burn?

A new perspective. 

A new perspective can change the world, said her mother.

A new perspective is all that you need to change a catastrophe into something else entirely. Aria wasn’t sure if it was her that she was talking to, or if she was trying to convince herself. 

Packed onto a plane with her abhorrently bright suitcase and a handful of folded papers to he name, Aria was given a pat on the back by her father, and a one-armed hug by her mother. 

“You behave now, you hear me? Make your parents proud of you.” Her mother stood up straighter, brushing the non-existent dust from Aria’s shoulders. 

Aria nodded, letting her parents take a final once over before she was packed onto a plane, with a red sticker slapped onto her suitcase. 

Unaccompanied Minor. 

It felt like a tag, and Aria could feel the eyes following her around the airport as she just barely managed to navigate her way to her gate and onto the plane.

At the gate, she fumbled with the folded papers in her small hands, and yelped when two of them slid out onto the ground and fluttered open. 

Tucked inside one paper slip was her airplane ticket, the words INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA printed in bold across the top.

The airport hostess smiled kindly at the young girl, crouching down beside her to help collect the scattered things. 

“And where would you be off to? Are you meeting your parents?” She asked, smoothing out the creases in her skirt as she scanned Aria’s ticket through and the light flickered green momentarily.

Aria shook her head. Her parents lived in Dublin.

“Aria, don’t be ridiculous. You have a full career ahead of you where you are right now, why would you throw all that away for a silly little dream?” Her mother sighed lightly.

“You’d never make it as a singer - I just don’t think you have it in you, darling.” She shuffled closer to Aria, tucking the girl under her arm. “Let’s stop daydreaming, hm? You have an early practice tomorrow, you need to get some proper sleep before that.”

Moving past the questioning woman, Aria took back her ticket from the extended hand. “I’m going to become a singer.” 

Aria knew she was small. 

She was an inch short of average height, and normally it wouldn’t bother her but when surrounded by a group of boys all going through the various stages of puberty at once, it became glaringly obvious that she was, in fact, quite short. 

Kicking her toe at the floor of the practice room, she scoffed slightly. Stupid teenage boys and their stupid growth spurts and their stupid long legs and their stupid voice cracks. 

They’d recorded the same segment of the song four times, because one of the trainees kept shattering his voice box anytime he went above a middle C. 

Now, nearing ten minutes to twelve, the others had packed themselves away and left with a goodbye called over their shoulder - leaving Aria to pace the spring boarded floor mindlessly.

“Akari?” 

Aria jolted slightly, whipping around to face the doorway from which a boy was hanging from. 

“Yuta-san! Oh, hello!” Aria bowed a little shakily, startled from her own thoughts. 

Yuta moved through the doorway into the practice room. He scanned around, frowning when he only saw Aria alone in the room. “Are you here alone?” 

Aria nodded. “The others, they wanted to go home but I needed to stay so I told them it was okay.” 

“The others?”

“My team,” She explained. “I’m training with the boys right now, and we’re meant to be putting together a piece for the evaluation next month.”

He stepped forward. “You’re training with, Hyunjae’s group? Why?”

Aria shrugged. “I don’t know either. They just told me to come here now instead of the other practice room, so I did.”

Yuta still looked confused, but Aria spun the topic of conversation around before he had the chance to ask another question. “It’s late, Yuta-san, shouldn’t you be at home?”

He blinked once, shaking his head lightly and looking back at Aria. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s dark outside, I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” She rushed to protest. “I used to walk home at night a lot, I’m okay with the dark now.”

Yuta bit the inside of his cheek with how fast he turned. “They leave you here alone a lot?” His face had taken on an incredulous look, and his eyes had a dark tinge. 

“No no, that’s not what I meant,” Aria waved her hands about. God this was a mess. “Back home, I used to walk home after training. So I’m careful but the dark doesn’t scare me.” She emphasized home, not wanting an angry Yuta to come after Hyunjae in the morning.

It really was okay...

“Well the thought of you alone in the dark scares me.” Yuta said with finality, walking to the wall and picking up Aria’s jacket from the ground. “C’mon, it’s not getting any brighter.”

“You know, you said something. Years ago, and I’ve always meant to ask you what you meant but I never got the chance to.” 

Aria flipped over on the bed, lying on her stomach with one eye open as she peered over at Yuta. The laptop with a film paused was perched precariously on the edge of the bed, and was beginning to slide off the duvet just as he went to grab it. 

His fingers curled around the screen right before it fell off entirely, saving it from a broken spine.

Aria giggled. “Nice save.” 

Yuta smiled, and pushed the now closed laptop towards the head of the bed where it would be out of harms way. Hopefully. 

Not willing to drop the topic just yet, he sat up and put his hands on his knees. “You said something about walking home, that you were used to doing it in the dark.”

Aria hummed, half asleep with the warmth of the room. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket earlier on and it had kept her toasty - but now the warm air was slowly making her drowsy. “My parents didn’t really have time, so I just. Walked.”

“Your parents didn’t have time?”

“To collect me. From the ice rink, I mean.”

Yuta’s lips parted, but the words died on his tongue. His head tilted in confusion. “How old were you?”

“Mm, ten?”

“Ten?!”

Aria giggled, swatting at him and missing by a mile. “Don’t say it like that, it was fine! It was a ten minute walk, I wasn’t going to die.”

Yuta’s eyebrows were nearly touching at this point. “Your parents, made a ten year old girl walk home in the dark, what, twice a week?”

“Three times. I had morning practice three times a week, and evening practice three times a week.”

“You were ten?”

“Mhm.”

Yuta sat back. “What, were you training for the Olympics or something?” He joked, a half smile finding it’s way onto his lips. 

“Mhm.”

The smile fell. “What?”

“That’s what my father told me. H’said, I was going to the Olympics to make them proud.” 

“That’s, nice I guess-”

“To repay what they gave me.” She finished.

Yuta’s relaxed demeanor had disappeared entirely, and now he was staring in shock and slight trepidation at the sleepy girl lying on his bed. She had moved closer in the duration of their conversation, and was close to having her head pillowed in his lap.

“What did you say, Akari?” His voice was soft, hiding a more concerned undertone. 

Aria whined, shaking her head. “No, don’t wanna talk about this. M’tired, m’going to sleep.”

“Akari no, two more minutes.”

“Goodnight.”

“Akari,” Yuta patted her arm, pulling her up gently. “Two more minutes, then I promise you can go to sleep.”

She groaned, turning to plant her fact in the blanket beneath her. “What, what is it?” 

“Do you -” Yuta started then stopped. “Did you like ice skating?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Aria rolled over, throwing an arm over face as she eyed Yuta suspiciously. “Okay, you’re acting weird. Stop acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird!” He protested. 

“Yes you are! You’re making me feel like I’ve done something wrong, stop it.” 

Yuta sighed, moving to lay beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Okay, I’m sorry. You haven’t done something wrong, don’t worry.”

“Then what’s with the bloody interrogation?” Aria’s voice was ladened with sleepy frustration.

“I just...”

“You just...”

Yuta pinched her arm. “Don’t mock me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you could string a sentence together.”

Yuta let his thoughts gather, collecting them together.

It wasn’t weird, was it? A lot of kids felt a responsibility towards their parents, wanted to repay them for taking care of them, that wasn’t unusual. But on the other hand, it was normally the child who decided to take on that burden, they were rarely instructed to do so by their parents themselves. 

Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember a single time where Aria has mentioned her parents; not at holidays, not during promotions. He doesn’t remember her ever stepping out to take a call from them. 

Had Aria spoken about her parents at all? It wasn’t a thing he would have otherwise taken notice of, but suddenly Yuta was wracking his memory, trying to find a single time where Aria had mentioned her parents, spoken about them. 

Yuta didn’t know why he was so worried about this. If there was a problem, surely she would have come to him? Come to someone? 

Regardless of the logic telling him that, yes, everything was okay, there was a sinking feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach. 

When asked about her family, Aria had always said NCT. Said that, NCT was her family; her home.

“Akari, when was the last time you spoke to your parents?”

Aria rolled her neck to ease the growing crick. She was still burrowed beneath the blanket, and Yuta’s hug was only pushing her deeper into a comforting sleep. “Last month, why?”

“What did you talk about?” He pressed.

“There was a problem with my VISA. Some of the adoption papers got mixed up or the name change wasn’t filed right or something.” Aria mumbled the words into the duvet. “Can I go to sleep now?”

Yuta didn’t respond. 

“Yuta?”

Aria lifted her head, blinking blearily at the older boy. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Yuta was not going to be sick. It was just a lot to process. Yeah.

“You’re adopted?”

“You didn’t know?”

He spluttered lightly, “You never told me!” 

“It’s not exactly a secret! Any article written about me has something about my adoptive parents written in there. ‘The heroic couple who gave a young girl a fighting chance~’” Aria snorted through her nose. 

Yuta’s head was reeling. Aria was adopted. That was fine. Nothing wrong there. 

But something still wasn’t sitting right with him.

“Is that what you ‘owe them’? The fact that they adopted you?” 

“The orphanage I was in was being closed down - I think I was going to be moved to a group home, but the week before it shut, my parents adopted me. It seems fair that I’d owe them something for that, right?” 

“No?” Yuta let out a winded chuckle, eyes wide. “Akari that’s not, how adoption works?”

“Sure it is. And anyway, I was good at ice skating. It’s not a big deal.” Aria rolled over back to her stomach with finality, clearly trying to signify an end to the conversation. 

Yuta wasn’t done. He had finalized on what it was that wasn’t sitting right.

“You speak Japanese. I thought you - did your parents speak Japanese?” 

Aria hummed. “No, I took lessons. They said it was good for the media - it changed their perception of me, I think. Made me more appealing.” The words were mechanical, and not her own.

“What does that even mean?!” Yuta’s voice was raised now, the boy sitting up.

It was like Aria was being treated like a show horse, trained in a few tricks and then sold on. What kind of people - 

“Yuta, please.” Aria’s voice was soft, and her eyes were barely open. “Please, I just want to go to sleep. M’tired, you can ask me about this tomorrow, okay?”

He sat back, mollified. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. You want to stay here, or?” 

Aria snuggled deeper into the covers in lieu of an answer.

Yuta ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay, that’s. That’s fine. Goodnight, Akari.”

Aria’s phone lit up from where the girl had tossed it earlier, making a small ping. He looked over momentarily, catching the two small notifications before the screen faded to black again.

Mother [1:48] The transaction should have gone through. Make sure to approve it quickly, we don’t want to be waiting like we were last month. 

[Bank of Korea] $850 has been withdrawn from your account by your contact “Mother”. Would you like to approve this transaction? 

[honey-dewey]

Gold in the Summertime

Pairing:  Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,545

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of injury, stitches, and needles, but it’s mostly just that sweet sweet hurt/comfort

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Very few good things ever happen at three AM in the Urgent Care. Let’s make a short list of things that will definitely not fall under the category of ‘good.’ 1) Having a patient who has apparently injured himself but refuses to tell you how. 2) Said patient hyperventilating and panicking until he actually breaks something because you tried to give him a tetanus shot. 3) The same patient’s three best friends yelling at you. 4) Singing to still the same patient to calm him down so you can stick him with a tiny needle so he won’t possibly die of tetanus.

A/N: The song that inspired this fic is actually a favorite of mine called ‘Gold in the Summertime’ by Matt Nathanson. Not required to read the fic, but it’s a cute song. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh hell no,” you said, turning to see your fellow night shift nurse, Tori, standing in the door of the break room. “No, I am not dealing with whatever drunken fool walked into that waiting room. It is three in the morning and I do not feel like screwing around right now.” 

Tori raised an eyebrow. “Done?” 

“Done,” you said, standing and preparing for the inevitable. “Who’s the patient?” 

Tori handed you a file. You opened it, quickly scanning the information. F. Morales, forty two years old, in decent health, up to date with all his immunizations, served in the military, and was currently in the Urgent Care for a laceration on his left shoulder. 

“How bad is it?” You asked, closing the file and following Tori to the waiting room. 

“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “He isn’t gushing blood, so it’s not ER worthy. Probably just needs some stitches and a tetanus shot, depending on what got him.” 

You blinked. “He didn’t say?” 

Tori grinned. “Nope. Have fun.” 

Groaning to yourself, you opened the waiting room door. “Morales?” 

A man stood up, clearly the injured one in his group of friends due to the wad of cloth he was pressing to his left shoulder. “Yes?” 

“Follow me,” you said, tucking the file beneath your arm. “So, what happened?” 

The man grimaced. “Uh, I busted my shoulder.” 

“How?” 

The man was silent as you pushed open an exam room door and gestured him inside. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

You sighed. “How’d you cut yourself?” You asked again, watching the man hop up on the exam table. You walked around to his back and slowly cut away the patch of his shirt that covered his shoulder. “And while you’re at it, you got a first name I could use, Mr. Morales?” 

“Please just call me Frankie, most people do.” 

“Most people?” 

Frankie shifted as you examined the harsh tear in the skin. “My friends, those assholes outside, call me Catfish.” 

You chuckled. “Military nickname?” 

“Yeah.” Frankie winced as you pressed a finger against the wound. 

A beat of silence, and then you had another question. “Is Frankie your legal name?” 

“No, why?” 

You smiled. “We need a legal name for the records.” 

Frankie shrugged his uninjured right shoulder as you continued to evaluate the messy scrape on his left. “It’s Francisco. And that shit hurts.” 

“Sorry,” you said, stepping back. “It needs a few stitches,” you decided. “But it isn’t horribly urgent so I’m gonna go grill your buddies outside to see if they’ll give me more answers about what happened.” 

Frankie nodded, watching you leave. 

“Would the party that escorted one Francisco Morales please follow me?” You asked, pushing open the waiting room door. 

Three men stood up, and you led them down the hall a ways, so your conversation would be private. “Alright. Spill. He won’t tell me what happened.” 

The man on the left snorted. “Unsurprising,” he said. “Fish is like a damn lockbox.”

“Benny,” the man in the middle hissed, nudging the man on the left. “Santi, you wanna take this? You saw it best.” 

“Excuse you!” Benny objected. “I was there too!” 

“You’re drunk.” 

The man on the right, Santi, sighed. “Frankie got into a fight outside the bar we were at tonight. Some guy made a horrible comment about how women belong in the kitchen, I dunno, I didn’t hear that bit too well. But Frankie managed to win the fight with minimal injuries, right up until the guy’s equally shitty friend clipped his shoulder with a ripped in half beer can.” 

You nodded, jotting notes down on Frankie’s file. “So what I’m hearing is that he was cut with a piece of likely filthy metal?” 

“Yep.” 

“Perfect,” You grumbled sarcastically. “You boys can head back to the waiting room. I’ll send him out when I’m done.” 

The boys left, and you swung by the supply closet to grab a suture kit before heading back into Frankie’s exam room. “Still bleeding?” 

Frankie looked up. “Yeah.” He had taken his hat off, fidgeting with the worn out brim. “Hurts.” 

“I’ll bet,” you said, coming up behind him and gently taking his hand off the wound. “Gonna pop some stitches in, disinfect the hell out of this, then get your height, weight, the like, and send you off with a tetanus shot just for good measure. That old beer can probably doesn’t have any kind of illness, but we have to be sure.” 

Frankie was silent, which wasn’t a good thing. You disinfected the wound, which sent him into a tailspin of hissed curses in your general direction, and before he realized what was happening, you were halfway done with the stitches. 

“And that’s the last one,” you said, tying off the last stitch. “The stitches dissolve after a while, so you shouldn’t have to worry about coming back to get them removed. But do take care to change the bandages twice a day, and do not use this arm. I don’t care what you have to do, please do not rip these stitches.” 

Frankie chuckled. “Yes doctor.” 

Finishing up the bandage, you grinned at Frankie’s current shirt situation. “Do you want me to grab you a new shirt? I kinda ruined yours.” 

“You did your job,” Frankie pointed out. “But yes, that would be nice.” 

You ducked out of the room and grabbed a spare shirt from the nurse’s lost and found. “No one’s claimed this thing for almost eight months. I think the guy who owned it quit,” you said, handing Frankie the old Jack Daniels whiskey shirt. You watched him struggle to put it on, helping him a bit as the shirt got caught on his shoulder. 

“Okay, follow me,” you said once Frankie was wearing a shirt again. He followed, just as asked, and you took his height and weight, texting both figures to Tori so she could prep a tetanus shot for you. In the meantime, you kept Frankie occupied, asking him questions about military things in the exam room. 

“What’d you do in the military?” 

“I was a pilot.” 

“Planes?” 

“Helos.” 

“Fun. I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Those friends outside, are they?” 

“Military friends? Yeah, mostly. I knew Santiago before all that though.” 

A knock at the door interrupted your bonding session. Tori opened the door, holding a tray with the tetanus shot and a band-aid. “Sorry. Those shitty kids band-aids were all I could find.” 

You shrugged. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m sure Mr. Morales won’t object to a Paw Patrol band-aid.” 

However, as you turned back to Frankie, you realized he’d gone white as a sheet. “Frankie?” 

Frankie shied away from you, despite you not moving. “Don’t,” he said, voice choked. “Please.” 

Your heart squeezed at the desperation in his voice. He was very plainly terrified. “Frankie,” you repeated calmly, holding both hands up so he knew you were unarmed. “Hey, deep breaths.” 

Frankie took a stuttering breath, and you sent a silent prayer out that he wouldn’t have a panic attack here. You sat next to him, keeping a few feet of space between you and him. “Do you want me to go get the boys?” 

Frankie shook his head, eyes wide. You tried to think. Distracting him would do no good. You’d tried that before with other people, and with patients who were this panicky, a distraction made it worse. Trying to sneak up on him was somehow an even worse idea. With his background, he was likely to know when someone was trying to surprise him, and he could definitely defend himself. The only thing you could think of was calming him down and then sticking him as fast as you could. 

It took a few minutes, but Frankie’s breathing returned to normal, and his muscles relaxed somewhat. You didn’t move, simply sitting there beside him and establishing yourself as a calm figure despite your reeling mind. “Frankie?” 

He looked up at you, not saying a word. 

“Are you ready to try?” You asked. “I have to give you the shot. I don’t want you to get sick, okay? Tetanus is a killer, and I don’t wanna see you dying in a hospital bed until you’re at least eighty, okay?” 

A slow nod. You stood, making your movements obvious as you put on new gloves and opened an alcohol wipe. 

“C’mere,” you said, gesturing Frankie closer. He scooted towards you, and you met him halfway. “This is cold, just a warning.” 

You rolled up Frankie’s shirt sleeve, exposing his left shoulder. He shivered as you ran the alcohol wipe across his skin, and kept his eyes anywhere but on you as you uncapped the tiny syringe. “Frankie?” 

Frankie whined, his breathing picking up again as his body barreled towards full panic mode. 

“Frankie!” You recapped the syringe and set it aside, turning your full attention to Frankie. He jumped away from you, eyes wide once more. You stood back as he curled in on himself, breathing quickening too fast. He was hyperventilating. “Frankie! Listen to me! You’re not-“ 

You cut yourself off as the loud, ragged breaths began to turn into animalistic screams, Frankie losing his balance and falling off the exam table and crashing into the sink before hitting the floor. The thud his body made scared you, but not as much as his current panicked state. 

“Tori!” You yelled, opening the door and yelling for your coworker. “Tori!” 

Unfortunately, it was not Tori who came to your rescue. It was Frankie’s three friends, all of whom looked incredibly concerned. Tori was behind them, shouting that they couldn’t be back here. Santiago simply pushed past you and immediately rushed to Frankie’s side, the other two joining him as he attempted to console Frankie. 

You, knowing your help wouldn’t be needed, tried to step away, but Santiago turned to call you back. “Come here!” 

Sighing, you hesitantly entered the exam room. “What do you need from me?” 

“What did you do to him?” Benny asked, clearly the most worried. “He hasn’t had an attack this bad in years!” 

“I just tried to give him a tetanus shot!” You defended. 

Santiago and the other man had gotten Frankie situated back on the exam table, sitting on his sides and keeping him upright as Benny rushed in and took his hands. “Fish? You with us buddy?” 

Frankie, who had thankfully stopped screaming, whined. Benny smiled, squeezing his hands. “There’s our Fish. Hey, hey, no, look at me,” he directed as Frankie’s eyes drifted to you in the corner and his breath hitched. 

Frankie’s head slumped against Santiago’s shoulder. He hummed uncomfortably, face scrunching as he shifted, trying to get comfortable. 

“His shoulder,” you guessed softly. “Someone’s touching it.” 

The man on Frankie’s right looked at his back. “Shit. Sorry Fish.” 

Frankie sighed in relief and turned into pudding against Santiago’s shoulder. Benny still held his hands, humming softly. The other man, whose name you still didn’t know, stood and pulled you aside. “Hey. Did he tell you?” 

“That he was trypanophobic?” You said, sliding your hands in your pockets. “No. But I figured it out pretty quickly when he went white as hell as soon as he saw the syringe. No one has a reaction this severe unless they have a phobia.” 

The man nodded. “Yeah. Benny was right. Fish is kinda stubborn about these things. He hasn’t had an anxiety attack in years though. Sorry Benny gave you shit about triggering one. I know it wasn’t really your fault.” 

“It was,” you mumbled, eyeing Frankie over the man’s shoulder. “It just wasn’t my intention.” 

“Yeah.” The man looked back at Frankie. “Is the tetanus shot necessary?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Santiago looked at you. “How good are you at singing?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“It keeps him calm,” Santiago explained. “He used to sing to the helos whenever there was bad turbulence. Kept him level. We’d do it while you give him the shot, but none of us can sing.” 

Frankie made a small, strangled noise, and you almost freaked out until Benny smiled and you realized Frankie was trying to laugh. 

Smiling, you grabbed the syringe, a new alcohol wipe, and the band-aid. Santiago moved so he was sitting mostly behind Frankie, still supporting him. The other man, who you faintly heard Benny call Will, sat back on Frankie’s right. Benny took Frankie’s hands and stood to the side a bit so you would have room to work. 

“Oh, let’s keep this going, I wanna go all in,” you sang softly, repeating some cute and catchy song Tori insisted on playing whenever she could. “We’ll never be lonely in the dark.” As you sang, you opened the alcohol wipe and cleaned a patch of Frankie’s shoulder. 

“Rooftop in soho, Prince on the radio,” you kept going, uncapping the syringe and taking Frankie’s arm. “The city streets glow, gold in the summertime.” You quickly, between words, stuck Frankie and pressed down on the plunger. He whined, shying from the pain, but you just pressed the band-aid over the tiny puncture mark and kept singing. “Summertime, summertime, summertime, I gotta get that feeling.” 

Gently taking Benny’s place, you stripped your gloves off and put your hands overtop Frankie’s. “You did good, Frankie,” you said. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here so the boys can take you home.” 

Frankie wobbled to his feet, still nonverbal and a bit unsteady. You ended up needing a break in the waiting room, which was still empty. Giving Santiago a bottle of water for Frankie, you sat next to Frankie while the boys started the car. 

You absently hummed the song from earlier, mostly to fill the stifling silence. As you reached the part you’d sung for Frankie, you noticed, with a small jolt, that he was humming along with you. 

“You like the song?” You guessed, and Frankie nodded. 

“Here.” You pulled a pen from your coat pocket and took his hand. “Give the whole thing a listen,” you said, scrawling down the name and artist of the song on Frankie’s hand. “And then call me,” you finished, adding your phone number below the writing. 

Frankie smiled. “Meet cute,” he rasped, voice practically destroyed. 

You laughed. “This is more of a meet ugly, but sure.” 

Santiago came back, helping Frankie to his feet. 

“See you again?” Frankie asked, voice still pretty shot.

“Hopefully not,” you said, holding the door open for Santiago. “At least, not here.” 

Just like that, Frankie was gone. 

That sunrise, as you settled into bed, you got a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown Number: Song was super cute. Definitely adding it to my exercise playlist

You: Is this Mr. Morales?

Unknown Number: Just Frankie

Unknown Number was saved as Just Frankie

You: Okay Just Frankie. How’s your shoulder

Just Frankie: Hurts like a bitch, but I’ve had worse. 

You: I’ll bet. 

Just Frankie: Hey, wanted to ask you something 

You: shoot

Just Frankie: do you always work nights?

You: not always, but mostly. 

Just Frankie: cool. You free tomorrow at noon? I found this cool lunch place that has the best burgers ever

You: ever? I’ll have to see about that

Just Frankie: it’s a date then 

You: It’s a date

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

words: 3.4k

pairing: kageyama t. x f!chubby!reader

prompt: sweat kink

warnings: cursing, oral (female receiving), fucking in a personal gym, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), sweat licking (he’s a freak lmao)

summary: kageyama knew you looked good while working out. the way your soft arms would suddenly flex and he’d see the muscles you were so good at hiding.

he knew he liked to watch you work out, but he never would have known that the sight of you covered in sweat would stir something so primal in him.

a/n: kageyama likes his women chunky you can’t change my mind. just to clarify, reader is an american who came to japan because iwa convinced her she’d go to the olympics if she followed him. she met iwa in her first year of college and quickly became friends. reader is insinuated to be a rather plush woman, but she’s ✨ s t w o n g ✨

“group bonding exercise?”

you repeated dubiously, blinking owlishly at the blonde in front of you as he just sits there and smiles, nodding his head.

you look to the other men in the olympic gymnasium for help, but they either shrug their shoulders in equal confusion or nodded their heads with atsumu.

when you had walked through the gym doors this morning with iwaizumi, ready to start the days training, you didn’t expect to have atsumu come up to you and propose a “bonding experience”, in his words.

hinata came bounding up to you with that ridiculous speed of his, orange hair bouncing in his excitement. he was practically vibrating with energy, hazel eyes glowing under the fluorescent lighting.

“yeah! we overheard you saying how you wanted to get back in shape and slim down a little, so what better group to help you out than us?”

all the men in the gym froze at his oblivious words, shocked that he really just said that to your face. kageyama froze in the middle of his lunges and choked, eyes wide.

‘this idiot really has no class…’ they all thought simultaneously as they watched the scene unfold with bated breath, waiting for the inevitable moment you ripped his head off and stomped on his body.

if there was one thing they all knew, they knew it was to never mention a woman’s weight. especially to you. you weren’t exactly the thinnest around, but that didn’t make you any less attractive.

in all honesty, you were hot, in all your foreign, sexy glory.

to everyone’s obvious surprise however, instead of killing the ginger, you laughed instead and patted him on his floof, thanking him for reminding you.

the team sweat dropped as hinata bounced around, clearly enjoying the head pat as he started spouting off different types of exercises they wanted you to do, bokuto and atsumu quickly joining in.

they all surely expected you to spike his head off or something, but they were pleasantly surprised and grateful you didn’t. they couldn’t afford to replace him so close to the games.

you see, you were no stranger to physical violence or getting physical in general. you had been recruited to manage the japanese men’s olympic volleyball team by none other than iwaizumi hajime, himself.

it was funny how things worked out because you two had already known each other before the offer was even offered.

you had met previously during college where you both graduated with the same degree. having spent the last four years taking the same classes and becoming best friends, it wasn’t a surprise when iwa asked you to come back with him to japan.

though you were pretty adamant in staying in america, despite knowing japanese, you somehow were convinced by him. before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to your hometown of los angeles and saying hello to tokyo.

because of your past with iwaizumi coupled with the fact that you both had the same degree and title, you two were known as the demon trainers from hell.

where iwa was all obvious brute strength and harsh glares, you were much more reserved but still equally as terrifying with your sickly sweet smiles and icy words if the boys were getting out of line.

but just because you preferred to make them cry with your words instead of your fists, that didn’t mean it wasn’t common to see you either hitting one of them upside the head or spiking a ball at them with deadly accuracy.

when the team first met you, however, they could hardly believe that you were a certified athletic trainer, let alone their manager on top of that. it wasn’t anything against you, you just… didn’t look the part.

standing at a whopping 5’4”, all the men on the team easily dwarfed you in height, and your body wasn’t all hard planes and corded muscles. you were soft and squishy looking, running a little heavy for your height.

you just looked so adorable and soft. your cheeks had this permanent blush across them from your constant sunburn (blame the california sun), and they always puffed out when you pouted.

but that was their first mistake; underestimating you. even kageyama, your boyfriend, had underestimated you, though he denies it now.

it was actually how you two had met, though it was under less than ideal circumstances.

he was bold enough to question whether you were even meant to be on their team your first day meeting them, unintentionally offending you and all your hard work to get where you were.

“it’s nothing against you personally, but you just don’t look like you’re meant for the job.”

kageyama had said without looking at you, and everyone, including the coaches, were stunned by his blunt and brash words. even ushijima was rendered speechless.

kageyama looked around confusedly at everyone’s silence and wide eyes. what? did he say something wrong? he didn’t mean to offend you, he was just telling the truth how he saw it.

it was only when iwaizumi snickered and everyone broke out of their shocked reverie that all eyes shifted from kageyama to you.

chills ran down their spines at the eerily calm smile you gave kageyama, eyes closed tightly as you took a deep breath in. “you really fucked up now, kageyama.” iwaizumi chuckled.

everyone’s hearts stopped when you opened your eyes, and even kageyama shivered when your gaze met his. the way the fire in your eyes seemed to run so hot it could freeze over hell, looked eerily similar to the look hinata gives on the court.

“so i “don’t look the part”, hmm?” you muse, smile growing even wider as you watched the setter fumble over his words, trying to save face.

you let out an over dramatic sigh as you tossed your head back, clicking your tongue once as iwaizumi let out another laugh before walking over to stand by your side. apparently this happened often.

kageyama stopped fumbling over his words as he watched his old senpai cross his arms over his chest. you chuckled as you shucked off your trainer jacket, revealing your plain black t-shirt underneath.

the team never took their eyes off of you as you raised your arms above your head and stretched. gasps rang out across the gym as they saw your flex and the muscles that bulged from underneath your fluffy flesh.

“y’know, kageyama-san,” you drawled, lowering your arms as you began methodically stretching your thick legs, sharp eyes never leaving his. “you’re not the first person to say that to me.”

“she’s right,” iwaizumi mused with a smirk. “i’m pretty sure i was, and i still regret it to this day.”

kageyama gulped nervously and the team could only watch in awe as you finished your stretching before bending over slightly to your left.

you lined up your shoulders with iwaizumi’s hips as you placed a firm grip on his knee and around his shoulders.

with wide eyes and jaws dropped to the floor, the entire team and even the coaches watched you lift iwaizumi with ease and settle him into a comfortable fireman’s carry.

atsumu, bokuto, and hinata audibly screeched and even the usually stoic sakusa and ushijima choked on their spit in shock.

without breaking a sweat, in a sheer display of strength and power, you casually walked towards kageyama, and iwaizumi couldn’t repress his snickers because kageyama looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

how are you so strong?!

your smirk never left your lips as you stopped only a couple of feet away from the shocked olympian, and raised an eyebrow at him mockingly. “what’s wrong, kageyama-san? cat got your tongue?”

you grin grows maliciously as he struggles to answer you, obviously flustered. “do i still look too “soft” or “weak” to be able to handle you guys?”

when kageyama still didn’t answer you, still too flustered and shocked by your impressive display of strength, (cause iwaizumi is not light, that man is straight muscle), you sighed before giving the gym a quick scan before settling on one of the team's liberos.

“yaku-san.” yaku jumped at your polite tone when you called his name, but he quickly recovered with a sincere smile. “yes, (l/n)-san?”

you shot him a sweet smile of your own, and chose to ignore the blush across his cheeks to avoid embarrassing him. “can you give me a number between one and twenty?”

yaku stared at you confusedly along with the rest of the team and iwaizumi fully burst out laughing, shaking on your shoulders. you fought back your own grin as you threatened to drop him.

“um, ten?”

you grinned as you widened your stance, feet placed shoulder length apart as you took in a deep breath, preparing your muscles.

“good, i wanted a decent workout today, anyways.”

and when you began to squat your best friend with perfect posture and ease, kageyama didn’t even register the howling screeches of his teammates as they lost their minds over this mini she-hulk they just got as a manager.

instead, kageyama could only focus on the blood rushing through his ears and to his cheeks as he watched you squat his senpai with a smile on your beautiful face, a singular bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

oh, he was in deep now.

—————————

kageyama knew he should be ashamed of the way he was staring at you, but he couldn’t find it within himself to tear his eyes away.

with a harsh gulp and wide eyes, he watched you as you continued on with your leg presses, eyes closed as you took in even breaths.

you didn’t even seem bothered by the amount of weight you were pushing, but then again, 300 lbs was something normal to you.

finishing your reps, pushed your legs out fully before locking the press, taking a deep swig of your water as you lifted yourself up from your reclined sitting position.

blue eyes followed the trail of your sweat as it glided down the side of your neck before being absorbed into the fabric of your sports bra strap, and he gulped again, pants suddenly feeling tight.

that feeling only intensified when you lifted the edge of your shirt to wipe at your soaked brow, exposing your pudgy and soft tummy. you’ve never looked more delicious to kageyama than now.

when your boyfriend of six months and olympian in training had invited you to his home to work out in his personal gym after you finished atsumu’s little “team bonding experience” you didn’t expect him to just stare at you as you went about your reps and sets.

you chose to ignore the hungry way he gazed at your plush body as you moved over to where the squat stand was, bar already loaded with your preferred weight.

not minding the intense stare from across the room, you bit back a smile when you heard the light gasp come from your boyfriend as you ducked under the bar and settled it comfortably on your shoulders.

you stood up straight and relished in the familiar weight against your flesh. stepping back with a deep breath, making sure your posture was correct, you squatted your first rep.

as you came back up, you weren’t surprised when you noticed your boyfriend had disappeared from his seat by the shoulder press.

what did surprise you was the sudden warm presence behind you, and you bit back a startled gasp when you felt his large hands come to gently rest on your waist.

“as a professional trainer, you should know it’s dangerous to squat without a spotter.” kageyama’s deep voice muttered out. he resisted the urge to dig his fingers into your soft skin as you chuckled.

“you’re right, but i think i can handle myself.” you musea. you held back a gasp when he leaned forward to nudge his nose against your jaw, breath cool against your sweaty skin.

kageyama inhaled the musky yet sweet scent of your sweat against your skin and had to bite his lip to repress his groan. why was he getting so worked up over this?

“squatting 320 isn’t something you just cover on your own.” he growled into your ear, and you finally realized how worked up your boyfriend was from watching you work out.

not that you can blame him, however. watching him do his arm reps and the way his back muscles rippled under his plain white tee whenever he lifted himself for pull ups had your yoga pants feeling a little damp.

sensing things were about to get hot and heavy, you stepped towards the squat stand to put up your bar, kageyama’s hands never leaving your waist.

just as the weight left your shoulders and was properly put away, you let out a gasp when you felt his cool tongue slide sensually up your neck, and you blushed at the deep groan that left his lips.

your own moans soon filled the air as kageyama ground his hard cock against your ass through his joggers, groping your soft sides fully with his hands.

you rested your head against his chest as you let him massage your body roughly with his dexterous digits, mewling and panting at the way he teased and pinched your nipples through the fabric of your sports bra.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped in your ear, maneuvering your bodies to lay on the padded gym floor. you let him spread your thighs as you propped your body up on one elbow.

you panted lightly as kageyama looked down on you from above, kneeling between your legs while gazing over your glistening form.

your baby hairs stuck to your sweaty forehead as your skin seemed to glisten under the fluorescent lights above.

blue eyes zeroed in on a stray drop of sweat that glided from your neck and began its descent down the valley of your breasts.

something in him snapped and he lunged forward, causing you to yelp in surprise before moaning as he tongue followed the sweat drops path, groaning against your heated skin at the salty taste.

he needed more.

“the way you look when you’re working out, the way your sweat makes your skin glow,” a whine escaped your lips as he nipped gently at your collar bone.

he lifted his head to meet your eyes and you gasped at the feral look in his blue orbs, pupils blown wide with lust.

“you make me so hungry, (y/n).” before you had a chance to respond to him, the sudden sound of fabric tearing and your inner thighs exposed to cool air made you balk, and you stared at your boyfriend in shock.

“you did not just rip open my yoga pants!” kageyama gave you a blank look before shrugging, leaning his face down to your exposed core, pleased to find that you were already dripping onto the floor.

“i’ll buy you another pair.” a breathy moan replaced your curse for his causal destruction of your clothing as he licked a fat stripe up your cunt, fingers digging harshly into the plumpness of your thighs as he drank in your flavor.

moans spilled from your parted lips uncontrollably as kageyama ate you out, tongue flicking and suckling against your clit as one of his hands released your thigh in favor of sinking two fingers into your hot core.

“fuck!” you choke out in a whisper as you wind your fingers through his silky locks, gripping them tightly as you roll your hips into his face.

kageyama took your grinding on his face in stride, speeding up the movements of his fingers as he searched your walls for that one spot that made you see stars.

“a-ah!” you cried out, thighs clenching around his head as he smirked into your flesh. found it. tears began pricking your eyes as your body was assaulted with pleasure, kageyama’s fingers slamming right into your g-spot.

kageyama knew you were getting close when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers and your soft moans began growing louder as you neared your release.

with a snarl, kageyama pulled his fingers from you roughly and sat up from in between your legs. your whimper at the sudden emptiness was swallowed by him as he slammed his lips to yours hungrily.

you moaned into the kiss, tasting yourself as you felt him fumble with the tie on his joggers before pulling them down along with his boxers to free his cock.

kageyama pulled away from the kiss, greedily taking in your breathless and flushed expression before slowly pushing his length into you, groaning as he forced your walls to accommodate his girth and impressive length.

tears sprung in your eyes and fell down your soft cheeks as you cried at the stretch, mind going delirious from the pleasure as your boyfriend continued to sink into you.

kageyama leaned down to lick up your tears before roughly snapping his hips into you, sinking the rest of the way in as his pelvis settled flush against you.

you choked as he bottomed out, and your hands instinctively went to grip onto his muscular shoulders, nails digging into his flesh hard enough to leave marks.

kageyama groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, and he pulled back before slamming into you, relishing the way your walls seemed to suck him back in.

“tobio!” you cried out, voice breathless and wobbly as he slammed directly into your g-spot. kageyama smirked at your already fucked out expression, and slammed his cock into you again.

nothing but the sound of skin against skin and your wanton moans filled the stuffy gym air as kageyama pounded into you.

“fuck, (y/n),” kageyama groaned, leaning back on his haunches as he pounded into your sopping cunt, holding your legs up by your knees while biting his lip, watching you lose yourself on his cock.

your soft stomach jiggled with each thrust, shirt having ridden up while you squeezed your breasts through your bra, eyes crossing from the pleasure.

“fuck! you feel too f-fucking good!” you moaned, voice stuttering from the intensity kageyama was fucking into you with. kageyama smiled down at you, cheeks flushed from the compliment. “you’re taking me so well, pretty thing.”

he hissed as you clenched around him. apparently you liked that. so he continued.

“you feel so nice and tight around me, pretty girl.” he moaned out, feeling his high begin to approach him as your soft walls fluttered around him. he let one of your legs drop as he brought a hand to your aching clit.

rubbing tight circles into your sensitive nub, he sped up his hips until you were practically sobbing from the pleasure, coming dangerously close to tipping over the edge.

kageyama groaned at the sight of your flushed cheeks shining with tears and sweat, swollen pink lips caught in your teeth as you stared up at him with furrowed brows.

“i-i’m close!” you stuttered out, body beginning to seize while you could practically taste your orgasm. kageyama wasn’t any better, his hips losing rhythm as he opted to just pounding into you with whatever he’s got left.

“go on, pretty girl.” he huffed out, lazy smile curling his lips as he continued rubbing your clit with precise circles. “make a mess on me.”

a scream ripped through your vocal cords as you spasmed on his cock, eyes clenching shut as you clamped around him so tightly kageyama became lightheaded.

with a choked moan of his own he came deep inside you, filling you up to the brim with his cum as he fell forward, stopping himself from falling onto you as he held himself up with his arms.

you both sat there for a while, desperately trying to catch your breaths as you eventually came down from your highs.

opening your eyes, you find that kageyama was already staring at you, eyes softened and face still flushed from his high. you watched as a singular bead of sweat rolled down his nose before dropping onto the corner of your mouth.

without even thinking, your tongue swiped out to lick it up, and you saw your boyfriend’s eyes harden again, and a gasp escaped you as he rutted his hips into yours, cock twitching back to life.

a devious smirk filled his face, and he raised a singular eyebrow at you in challenge.

“you don’t think we’re done, do you? we still have a lot more sets to finish.”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie

[lvlyhao]

『lifetimes; H.R』

one-shot; huang renjun

A/N: it’s been a hot minute since i posted the teaser but welp it’s finally here :] this has got to be one of my favourite things i’ve ever written so please give it some love!!

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: not a lot of it but fluff (♡), angst (❆), fantasy (✯), author’s favourite (ツ)

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: some mentions of death but nothing too explicit

word count: 2.8K

pairing: huang renjun x reader

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

With chocolate eyes that dazzle golden under the light, he scouts the forest. The canopy is thick above his head and shudders every few seconds when some creature hurriedly passes by. The trees' branches sway in the breeze, and he can almost hear their rumbling under the chirping birds. The ever-so-green grass is dank under his boots, and he can still smell the rain that ended just a couple minutes ago. The Sun, though, seems to have no recollection of that. He is as argent as always, here in the Violet Woods. The place is dazzling, alive, and crisp; far too different from his own home, but also far less foreign. 

Graceful fingers reach for the periwinkle flowers just left from the tallest red oak, kissing their soft petals as he wonders where they are. Renjun is positive he's at the right place, and this is the right time. Noon, by the bush of forget-me-nots. He could only hope they hadn't misremembered this week's chosen spot. Knowing them, it's perfectly possible. Maybe he should head to the muttering roses, where they had met last week, and wait there instead...

Laboured breaths and feathery footsteps sound from behind him a second later, and he doesn't have to turn around to know it's them.

"You're late", he states, fierce gaze still burning in the flowers.

Renjun doesn't expect an apology, not really, but the mellow hand they lay on his shoulder is just as startling. Still kneeling, he twirls to face them at once, and he doesn't miss the dim look of urgency that paints their features.

"Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?"

They don't answer him. Instead, their lips curl into a small smile that Renjun supposes is meant to calm his nerves. It doesn't work very well, or well at all, and he stands up to his full height, holding their hand in his.

Both of their hearts beat loudly, wildly attempting to escape their ribcages. However, neither of them shies away from the proximity. Renjun and Y/N idly stand together for a second, basking in each other's warmth when they speak for the first time today.

"Father knows about you."

If the incoming information is anything short of shocking, he doesn't let it show. His keen, fox-like traits remain the same as he searches their eyes for something else—fear, rage, or any other emotion. Something that would tell him what to do now. 

Nodding slowly, he gently squeezes their fingers, waiting for them to continue. 

The way Renjun looks at them is enough to make Y/N's throat tighten in concern. From the palace, all the way over here, they've been trying to conceal it, but they no longer can. 

It's freezing cold, even against the strings of sunlight that filter through the trees. Its' grip is vicious, instilling into their body a form of despair they had never felt before. It is the dawning realization that their little world is shattering, and there's little they can do to save it.

"...And he calls you a filthy mortal."

Somehow, Renjun finds it in him to snort. Out of all the things he thought they would say, that was certainly not one of them, but it makes him happy. After all those months, they still manage to catch him off-guard. Will they ever stop doing that?

"Aren't you elves so kind?" he laughs, lifting his other hand to gently flick at their pointy ears.

Y/N simply huffs, dodging his fingers and escaping from his hold to pace around the trees.

Watching them in silence, Renjun thinks their race truly is something else. Elegant, breathtaking, stunning, unmatched, perfect. Sharp edges give way to soft curves that make him question the existence of all deities. Should he turn his face in shame? Should he go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness over sins he didn't commit? Should he declare them as his one redemption and worship them until his breath forever ceases?

Sighing dreamily, he thinks he, too, would be an arrogant bastard if he looked anything like an elf.

"Don't put that on us, Renjun. You, humans, have a terrible tendency to destroy and foul the space you occupy" Y/N turns to him. 

Placing their hands on their hips, they know they're falling into the usual routine: bickering about historical events between the two races until one gives up. That's how their rendezvous always begins, and they wouldn't have it any other way, but today something hovers in the air between them.

Doubts.

Renjun can't keep himself from speaking.

"He will banish you some time, Y/N. You know we can't keep this up forever."

He's right, and they know. Had it not been for the strands of sunshine dancing across their frame, they would have shivered. The thought of getting banished from their realm is terrifying. Y/N is still incredibly young for an elf—just over their 75 years—but they've lived enough to know how it goes for elves who get exiled. 

For an elf, banishment isn't being outlawed from your homeland. That is most indisputably sad, and Y/N would cry about it for some time, missing nature's presence from her forests. Although that's not the part of the exile that frightens them: it's the loss of immortality, their lifelines cut too short from straying from their hearths.

Death is no friend of the elves, as everybody knows. The mere idea of perishing from disease or poison is strange to their minds, if not altogether catastrophic. It's not normal, as it is not natural. It's almost reason enough to stop Y/N from making her offer, but the pink haze in their eyes wouldn't allow them to.

"Run away with me then", they mutter, slowly closing the distance between them and the boy once again. Something in Renjun's eyes shifts, and his pink lips part to speak, but not yet. 

"Protect me from the dangers of mortality. We could go south to the Cristalline Planes, Injun", Y/N stops in front of him. "Or, maybe even head west, since I know you've always wanted to see Wistful Shores."

Hope shines bright in their complexion, burning with such richness it nearly turns into despair. What they're doing is not asking—they're pleading, and Renjun nearly collapses to the ground at the honeyed tone in their voice. However, the glow of their fingers, smoothly tracing the shapes of his light robes, grounds him. Their touch is as delicate as the breeze, and it takes all of his self-control not to say "yes" right away.

"And let you give up on eternal life for me? That is possibly the most foolish decision I have ever heard of", he says, stoping their movements to lace his fingers between theirs.  

For a moment, everything around the two of them stills and fades into silence. The woods are quieter than ever before, and even the tree's lullaby comes to a halt. Nothing exists out of their eyes, embedded deep into the others'. 

His might just be Y/N's favourite thing in the whole entire world. The vibrant, sunny brown of his orbs reminds them of the goodness still left in mortals. They shimmer, sparkle and flicker with every bit of emotion Renjun feels, for they are too honest not to. It would be nothing short of a crime if they ever lied about his heart.

Y/N's are what he would describe as literal gateways. To where? Well, that, he will always argue. Some nights, when the stars are out, he could swear the entire universe is right there, before him. On other occasions, when what surrounds them are the glistening streaks of dawn, Renjun sees magic in its purest form. He could spend all of his life staring at them and still feel like there's too much left to explore.

"I don't think this foolish decision is yours to make, then", they decide, lightly squeezing his hands and glancing down to the ground. "I would rather live one more hour with you than one hundred lifetimes on my own."

There is a sharp intake in his breath as if a blade had buried itself deep in his stomach. It pains him just the same, he realizes. Hearing them say that and knowing they speak the truth brings tears to his eyes because he knows this is the point where he has to stop them. Stop them from wondering about the "what if's" and from asking that of him. Gods know if they ask again, he won't have the strength to decline.

"I, on the other hand, would like for you to live a very long, happy, fulfilling life," he remarks, hoping the shaking in his voice is not too evident. "And for that to happen, you can't be that much of an idiot, okay? Don't give that away for some human prince, Y/N."

"And what if that human prince is all I care about? What if he is my entire existence, and my one reason to sleep through the nights is to dream about him? What then, Renjun?" they challenge. 

It's rare to see elves speaking in any way that is not moderate, light, but the fire in their voice is nothing like he's ever seen. It's the same anger that fuels them to pull him closer, resting their palms on his warm cheeks and wiping away the tears he didn't know have fallen. 

"Then you must tell me what does that make me. What is this between us?" Renjun mutters, eyes closing with soft flutters. Guilt claws at his chest for not immediately putting an end to it but savouring the moment, feeling himself fall a bit deeper for the elf as each second ticks by.

"Love", Y/N simply states, sighing when his hands come together to hold the small of their back. "It's love."

"A part of me wishes you had not said that", he leans into their touch. "Had you said 'nothing' and stopped torturing me, my heart would have been broken, but I would have been fine. How can I be, now, when all you've just done makes me cherish you more?" he chuckles bitterly.

He knows what they're about to say, and he can't stand to hear it, so he continues talking, eyes indolently opening to scan their features.

"Things are different for us, Y/N. While you don't have to worry about succeeding the throne, that is my fate. To be a good ruler for my people when my own father dies. I can't leave them behind", Renjun breathes, hating the way their hopeful look melts into denial.

"You have a brother, you know? Leave him to rule. We've both seen what it's like to wear the crown, Injun", they grimace. 

It is true. Being part of the royal family means you grow used to many horrible sights and dark secrets. He can't help but wonder what it will be like to live all of that and not have you to keep him sane.

Shaking his head to dissolve querying thoughts, Renjun attempts to focus on something else that is not them. It's dangerous to be that close, feeling their own ragged breaths fawning over his face. He is just one touch away from all he has ever wanted, but one touch away is still forbidden. In that one touch lies his downfall.

As if hearing his prayers, the wind blows stronger, running through his silken, dark locks and messing up Y/N's. It backfires, though. The urge he has to resist now is to run his hands through their hair, pushing away all of the wild strands that frame their face, and he curses. Nothing could ever make this any less difficult for him.

"If Chenle ever becomes king, I pity the people that will live under his hand." 

He smiles, and Y/N realizes he must be attempting to make a joke. They wish they could laugh, but the conclusion behind his words hangs in the air. He won't change his mind, will he?

A sob leaves their body as suddenly as the tears come. Their vision turns misty, and the cold awareness that hits them is too much to manage. Wordlessly, Y/N falls to their knees, hugging their own body in attempts to calm the heartbreaking cries pouring from their lips. The pleasant spring evening turns cold and unforgiving, and the elf loses their bearings for a second, only to realize Renjun has dropped to the ground in front of them.

Neither of them dares to open their eyes when two bodies become one, and the only thing they know is each other. Fingers grasp at robes, armour and leather, and rough sobs blend together in utter heartbreak. Renjun pulls them so close he's not sure which limbs are his or whose tears he's tasting, but it hardly matters. This is where they end.

How much time they spend lost in each other's embraces is unclear. Neither Y/N nor Renjun knows, and they don't want to. Acknowledging time is dangerous here because it means accepting this moment won't last forever, and that is something they can't—won't do. It won't be so until they let it, right?

Wrong, and they know it. The Sun is going down.

When sobs have turned into whimpers and clutches have turned into caresses, Y/N takes the courage to pull away and look at him.

The prince's eyes are red and puffy, much like theirs, they imagine. His pale cheeks are stained with dry tears, and his pretty lips still tremble from the deep breaths. He doesn't meet their gaze until they call his name.

"Renjun", they call once more, admiring the blue hour lights shifting across his dashing features. "I—" Y/N gasps, and he's suddenly terrified of what they'll say. "I think maybe... maybe we should no longer meet. I can't bear to look at you and know you're not mine to take."

Just like that, his fears were confirmed. In his mind, he knows this is how it was supposed to go all along. This is for the best, he reminds himself, even if right now it feels like having your soul ripped to shreds.

"Don't say it like that, Y/N. I've always been, and I'll always be yours", he flashes a watery smile. "Perhaps just... in another lifetime."

The pain becomes too much to handle, and all they can do is close the space between them again. Their last and first kiss is salty, from the tears they both still shed and bittersweet, from the goodbye it speaks.

How poetic, they think, to say goodbye right by a bush of forget-me-nots. I'll surely never forget him.

"Go now", Y/N whispers as they part, "before I kiss you again and never let you go."

A heartbroken chuckle leaves his lips while he touches his forehead against theirs. 

"Remember me, Y/N", he begs, slowly dragging them to their feet. "Remember me like this, young and well, learning what the flowers you mark our spots with look like. Always see me like this: grateful and completely in love with you."

"How could I not, my prince?"

And in truth, how could they not?

To say Y/N never forgot about Renjun is a misunderstanding. They never forgot about him, and they never stopped thinking about him either. His are every emotion they've felt. Every split of every second in every day of their life was and is dedicated to him. His smile is all they see when they close their eyes, and his laughter sounds right by their side whenever they visit the forget-me-not fields. He lived in all of the things surrounding them, and even in the name of that corner right by the tallest red oak: Prince's Lair.

Likewise, his very soul was bound to Y/N from the day they met to the day he died, still in reverence of how much devotion it is possible to feel for someone. He grew older and eventually found a family, yes, and he even went to war. His eyes held visions he would never wish for anyone to see, but they were still his first thought in the morning and the last one in the night when he allowed himself to weep for their lost future. He got to see the most distant borders of many kingdoms, and he got to meet people in all of them. Yet, no creature on this Earth ever compared to Y/N—his Y/N.

Even at the tender age of 18, Renjun was wise. 

Aeons of praying upon the stars never changed their fortune, but maybe there is something else to their fates.

Y/N never stopped loving Renjun, and Renjun loved them until his days were over, but their paths never crossed again.

Perhaps in another lifetime.

[heliads]

Cherry Bomb

You and Peter Maximoff hate each other. Loathing doesn’t even begin to describe the sheer dislike you have for each other. So why would Peter be so troubled when you were injured in a fight?

masterlist

You breathe in and out slowly, doing your best to focus. Your gaze is riveted on your hands, and under your watchful eye a small spark blossoms to life on the tips of your fingers. You squint in concentration and the spark grows into a flame, dancing along your hand. Grinning, you start to let down your guard, and the flame grows larger and larger, reaching its blazing tendrils up to the sky.

There’s a sudden sound behind you, and you lose your treasured focus. The fire spirals out of control, jumping to double its previous height. Cursing, you shake your head and try to clamp down the flames, watching as they slowly shrink down. Once the fire is gone, you whirl around in anger to face the source of your sudden disturbance.

“What was that for?” Peter Maximoff just laughs. He had appeared right behind you, using his powers of speed to startle you. “I thought you were working on control, Cherry Bomb. Looks like that still needs some work.” With that, he speeds off again, leaving you to grumble angrily after him.

See, you and Peter have hated each other since the second you arrived at Xavier’s School. It was pretty obvious that you had to be there- you barely had any control over your mutation, which allowed you to manipulate fire. Although it was pretty amazing, you needed a lot of help to make sure that you didn’t burn down whatever was closest to you.

You hadn’t hated Peter at first, nor he you. He just seemed like another student at the school, and the two of you never really crossed paths. Once it became apparent that you’d need a lot of help, though, Peter had transitioned to not giving you much thought to dedicating a good part of his day to tormenting you. 

You suppose he had a few reasons not to like you, such as his friends spending a lot of time helping you meant that they spent less time with him, and he kept insisting that you were a danger to the school and shouldn’t be there. You, on the other hand, hated Peter because he hated you, and because he had given you the nickname ‘Cherry Bomb’, which you absolutely despise. Peter had been pretty proud of the nickname, saying that it suited you because you were likely to destroy everything at a moment’s notice, but you couldn’t stand it.

When Xavier calls you into his office, you assume he’s heard about your momentary loss of control over your powers and wants to talk about it. You slump down into a seat in front of him, ready for another lecture, but he just adopts a faint smile. “I’m not here to admonish you, Y/N, in fact just the opposite. Let’s wait for the others to arrive and I will explain further.” Knowing that you’re not going to get yelled at, you relax a little bit.

Eventually, Jean, Mystique, Scott, Storm, and Peter all file into the room. The Professor laces his hands together on top of the desk and starts speaking to the group. “There’s been news of a disturbance in a town not far from here. Apparently some mutant with the ability to grow in size and strength was kicked out of town for his powers, and decided to take revenge by attempting to destroy everything. He’ll come back in an hour’s time, and I believe that we should be there to stop him.”

Everyone agrees, and Xavier leads you all to an awaiting plane. On the ride over, most of you remain silent, with Peter sending the occasional glare to you, which you return with equal animosity. 

You land in a small town, and it is quickly obvious as to how you’re supposed to find the rogue mutant- simply follow the trail of destruction. You and your friends soon come across the man, who has chosen to grow to the size of a giant and wreak havoc on the town. Battle plans are quickly exchanged, and you all set off to your respective positions for the fight.

Your task is to light fires on the giant, thus distracting him from the town. You race towards him, igniting your hands in a blaze that you launch his way. The giant roars in agony, turning away from the buildings to focus on you. Gulping, you throw more fire his way, but you’re so intent on finishing your part of the plan that you don’t notice the giant’s arm swinging towards you. 

When his rocky fist collides with you, the breath is instantly knocked from your lungs and you are thrown into a brick wall several yards away. You find you can’t stand up or find the energy to move at all, and you can only watch as blackness rushes in from all around you.

You’re only aware of a few sensations- pain from your head, after it hit the wall. Blood, trickling down from your wounds. Then, arms lifting you up off of the ground. There’s a worried face above you, one with silver hair that seems all too familiar. The boy holding you starts to run, faster than you can even blink. Before you know it, he’s standing at a crossroads, looking left and right as if to see which way he needs to go. You must have moved a little, for the silver-haired boy looks down at you, and you realize he looks absolutely terrified. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” He starts running again, and moving at such high speeds knocks you into unconsciousness once more.

When you come to, you are still being carried in the boy’s arms, but he’s speaking to someone. Distantly, you realize you’re back at Xavier’s School. “You have to heal her. She needs help- she was hurt pretty bad. Promise me she’ll be alright!” After receiving the necessary promise of safety, the boy finally allows your body to be taken from him, but not before you notice the fear lacing his voice and the look of panic as he watches you be carried away from him.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been lying in the hospital bed, but the bright light of morning is shining when you finally gather the strength to open your eyes. A student is standing next to you, checking a few readouts. You blink, trying to focus, and you realize that the student is Jean. Your friend smiles when she notices that you’re awake, and sits down next to you.

“How are you feeling, Y/N? You took a pretty hard hit.” You cough tiredly. “I’ve been better. Were you able to subdue that giant?” Jean laughs. “You’ve been unconscious for three days, and the first thing you ask about is the fight? Typical. Yes, we got him under control, with no small amount of help from you.” You relax at that, but then look at Jean curiously. “How did I get here so fast? We had to take a plane to get to that village, how was I here in time to get help?”

Jean grins at you, and the satisfied gleam in her eyes makes you more than a little worried. “Well, none other than your favorite mutant, Peter. The second he saw you hurt, he raced over to you and ran all the way back to school with you in his arms. We didn’t even have to ask him, he just did it without thinking. I should tell him you’re awake, actually. He’s been stressing every second you’ve been unconscious and I think the Professor had to tell him directly to go to class, or else he would have been here all day too.”

You look confusedly at Jean. “That doesn’t make sense- Peter hates me and I hate him. Why would he be so interested in my wellbeing? Last time I checked, he was doing everything in his power to get me removed from the school so he could be rid of me.” Jean just smirks again. “I guess we all have our own motivators.” With that, she turns to answer a beckoning student, leaving you to wonder what on earth she’s talking about.

A few hours later, it has been determined that you are well enough to leave your hospital bed and go back to your classes. It feels great to be up and walking again, after so long lying down. A few friends wave to you in greeting, but you’re headed on a decisive path to one person in particular.

When Peter Maximoff notices you approaching him, he pauses his music and tucks his hands casually in his pockets. “Looks like Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake. I’ve been treasuring these Cherry Bomb- free moments, but I guess all good things have to come to an end.” You feel yourself bristle at his comments, but you can’t help but notice dark rings under his eyes and that he looked more than a little relieved to see you alive and well.

“Whatever you say, Peter. Look, I have to ask you something- why were you so worried about me? You treat me like I’m your worst enemy in the world, but Jean says you dropped everything to carry me back to the school when I got hurt. What’s with the big change?” When Peter hears what you have to say, his carefree expression quickly shuts down and is replaced with the usual malice. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but I was just trying to help. Is it that out of the question that I might actually do something good? I mean, I know you’re sick of me, but come on.”

You take an involuntary step back when Peter raises his voice. “Okay, calm down. I’m just messing with you. No need to get upset.” Peter just rolls his eyes. “Of course you were. Everything’s a joke to you anyway, that’s why you can’t control your powers that well, Cherry Bomb. You just don’t care enough.” That struck a nerve, and you look at Peter with hurt. “I didn’t ask for these powers! I didn’t ask for any of this! How long will it take for you to realize that your friends, and your fellow students, and everyone in this school wants me here! I guess the only problem is-” You stop talking, realizing that you’re taking things too far. 

Peter, however, has already guessed what you’re about to say. “The only problem is me? Of course. Well, don’t worry. If me being here is a problem, I’ll solve it for you.” Your heart drops in your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean, Peter?” Peter’s laugh is cold, and the hurt within it breaks your heart. “I’ll go. Doesn’t that make you happy?” Your eyes widen and you shake your head mutely, but Peter just fixes you with one cold stare and speeds off into the distance.

You feel horrible about what just happened. You immediately head to Peter’s dorm, but he isn’t there. Same thing with his classes, and with his friends, and with any part of the school he would usually haunt. Eventually, you turn to Jean, frantic with worry. “I think I lost him. I think I made him leave.” Jean shakes her head, trying to comfort you but to no avail. “Peter’s probably just at the store or something. Once he cools down, he’ll come back. He’s done stuff like this before, and it never lasts more than a few hours.”

Jean is wrong, though. That night, no one sees Peter, and his dorm room is empty. The next day, he doesn’t show up for his classes, or the next day, or the next. You’re forced to live with the fact that Peter, the boy who saved your life, is gone because of what you said. It doesn’t feel good at all.

One week later, you’re listlessly clicking through stations on the battered old radio in your room when your focus is drawn to one frantic reporter. He’s talking about some freak storm in a distant corner of the country, and you realize with sickening dread that it’s happening right outside Peter’s old neighbourhood. Before you know it, you’re grabbing your gear and the keys to one of Xavier’s cars. It’s time to go find Peter.

By the time you reach Peter’s neighbourhood, you realize that there’s no mere storm damaging the area. It’s another mutant- this time, one that can control the clouds. He’s enveloped the town in fog as dark as night, making it impossible to see anything. You quickly light a fire on your palm, and use it to guide your way through the town.

You walk slowly to the center of the storm, keeping your bearings by walking towards the darkest of the clouds. Sure enough, you find yourself on the outskirts of the eye of the storm, and you realize with horror that there are two figures inside: the mutant, laughing with manic glee, and Peter. The enemy mutant is making some grandiose speech about how he’ll rip the town to shreds. “The worst thing is, no one could stop me. I mean, who’s going to do anything about it? You?”

You find yourself speaking. “He’s not alone.” With that, you extend your arms, flames dancing around them and growing until they’re several feet tall. You step into the clearing, and the mutant looks terrified of you. Peter, on the other hand, smiles, and the two of you charge the enemy mutant.

It doesn’t take long to take care of the cloud controller, and before you know it, he’s running as fast as he can in the opposite direction after swearing that he would never pull a stunt like this again. You extinguish your flames, and realize that Peter is walking towards you. Before he can say anything, you start speaking quickly. “I’m sorry, Peter. Truly I am. I never meant anything I said, and we need you back at the school.”

Peter just nods. “I’m sorry too, Y/N.” You smile at that, and Peter looks at you in confusion. “You called me Y/N. Not ‘Cherry Bomb’.” Peter laughs. “You know, I can still call you Cherry Bomb if you want.” You shake your head, pretending to be horrified. “After I saved your life? Absolutely not!” Peter puts on a mock frown. “As I recall, I saved your life first. That means we’re equals, and I can do whatever I want.” You can’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe so.” You extend a hand to him. “Head back to school with me?” Peter smiles, and takes your hand, pulling you close. “What else would I do?”