#and then he’s gone to my birthdays the past two years in a row even though he can’t drive and it’s inconvenient for him. and then we’re

[neonkoii]

happy two year anniversary to the very beginning of my descent into madness (the day i added my hockey guy on social media) (it all went downhill from there)

[dreamingofaizawa]

Obedient (Rewritten)

Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.

Word Count: 6.6 k

Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!

You can find the original here.

Enjoy~

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“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.

It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.

At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.

You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.

Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.

As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.

You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.

“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.

You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.

It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.

“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.

“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.

“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.

But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.

“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.

“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.

“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.

“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.

“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.

“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.

“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.

“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.

“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.

They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.

“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.

“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.

“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.

“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.

The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.

“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.

Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.

“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.

It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.

“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.

The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.

Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.

When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.

“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.

“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.

“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.

“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.

You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.

You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.

Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.

Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.

“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.

“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.

“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.

“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.

“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.

You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.

Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.

“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.

The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.

He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.

“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.

“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.

“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”

The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.

Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.

You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.

But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.

Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.

Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.

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***3 months later***

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A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.

Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.

But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.

In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.

As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.

You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.

The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.

And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.

Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.

You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.

“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”

“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.

“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.

“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.

“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.

“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.

“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.

The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.

It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.

After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.

Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.

“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.

Click.

You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.

“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.

Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.

You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.

Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.

“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.

“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.

You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.

When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.

After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.

“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.

“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.

“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.

“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.

Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.

Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.

“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.

Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.

“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.

“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.

[firstbeachgoblin]

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

[inadaydream99]

The One With The Perfect Kiss

A/N - Thank you to the lovely 🥕 anon for this request, I loved writing it so much! This is inspired by the Friends episode ‘The One Where They All Turn Thirty’, but with a focus on Phoebe wanting to experience a perfect kiss before her thirtieth birthday. I hope this doesn’t disappoint!

Disclaimer: please remember this is inspired by Friends and the plot is in no way my own original idea! I have changed it a little in order to flow better for the sake of this oneshot.

With the World’s crazy state over the past year and a half it seems as though the concept of time has gone out of the window. It no longer feels odd to not leave the house for five days in a row, or to only see your friends virtually instead of in person. Although you had missed being able to hug your loved ones…

Now that some normality has resumed, you find yourself making more of an effort to meet up with friends, getting excited about the simplest of meetings. Even in person conversations are a novelty. And that’s where you currently find yourself, finally being able to see your best friend San in person for the longest time. You’d been catching each other up on the most recent events when San asked what you want to do for your upcoming birthday.

Then the realisation hit you that it’s your birthday in the next few days. And not just any birthday, but your 21st. Yes, you are reaching the age that everyone puts on a pedestal. The age when you well and truly are an adult.

Unlike most of your friends and their excitement about turning 21, you feel anxious and upset. It’s all because when you were younger you’d written out this list of things you wanted to experience by the time you had your 21st birthday and you’d managed to complete almost everything on that list. All except having the perfect kiss.

Of course, you’ve had plenty of kisses in the past. But they’ve always left you feeling a little underwhelmed, like something was missing; there was never any real sparks between you and your past kissers…

You feel stupid for your reasoning, but it’s something that you’d always hoped you would have experienced by now and yet you’re still waiting.

None of your friends were aware of this list except for San. He was actually the one that made the list with you when you were little; he’d made his own one too and you distinctly remember a few years back when he’d rushed to you during lunch in senior year of high school, excitedly celebrating the fact that he’d just completed the last experience on his list. You remember feeling a tinge of jealousy that he’d completed his first. So you made up a white lie that you’d also finished yours, just so he wouldn’t think you are a loser.

That was actually the last time you’d ever spoken to San about it. In fact, you’re pretty certain he’s forgotten about the existence of those lists altogether.

“What’s up with you today, is everything alright?” You are shaken out of your wandering thoughts, blinking a few times to clear your glazed over eyes, which then focus onto San’s concerned expression.

It’s now that you feel his hand on your shoulder which gently shook you back into reality, and with how close he is to you, you can see how his hair has grown just a little too much over his forehead so the ends go into his eyes.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead it feels like time has frozen around you and you have this strong urge to reach out to delicately brush his hair back so you can see him properly.

Next your gaze trails down to his lips and you wonder what it would feel like to kiss them. They look so inviting, like two plush pink pillows that you wouldn’t mind melting into.

“(Y/N).” You gasp at the urgent call of your name. “You zoned out again.” San chuckles, the corner of his lips quirked into an amused smirk, clearly having noticed the reason behind your daze this time.

“We’ll maybe if you cut your hair.” You roll your eyes, pulling your shoulder away from his hand defensively.

Your reaction sends him into uncontrolled laughter, falling back in his chair and clutching his stomach in the process.

“It really wasn’t that funny.” You grumble, your bottom lip protruding as you sulk.

“Awe come on, stop being so serious all the time.” San giggles, his hand once again reaching out to your shoulder in an attempt to turn your body back to face him.

And you cave in the moment you see him, the way his face is a light shade of crimson from his hysterical laughing and how his eyes seem to glimmer with joy; it’s impossible not to smile.

“I really hate you sometimes.” You playfully quip.

“No you don’t.” San automatically responds, pinching your cheek teasingly.

~

Since seeing San, you’ve spent most of your time trying to figure out how to get the last thing checked off your list. But every possible solution has turned out to either be impossible to achieve or just too much effort.

It’s now getting to the point where you’re thinking of giving up entirely. I mean, technically the only other person that knows about this list thinks you completed it years ago. You could so easily just not worry about it and it wouldn’t matter.

Except for the fact that your mind would torment you about it for the rest of your life, and honestly, you’re not sure if you would be able to put up with yourself for very long.

“Mingi help me!” You whine like a little child.

Yes, you’d ended up confiding in Mingi about your need for the perfect kiss before you turn 21. And yes, he had laughed at you and your strange predicament.

“What exactly do you want me to do? Kiss you? Cause that’s not happening again.” Mingi tries, and fails, to hold back his laughter.

You roll your eyes at him and sigh. You both know that’s not why you’ve turned to him for help, but the fact that he had to mention you have kissed just to annoy you only makes you want to walk away.

“No, no! I’m sorry.” Mingi lurches forward to grab your arm, stopping you from getting away as he notices you get up to leave. “Besides, it needs to be someone you’ve never kissed before…” He continues, falling silent as he ponders over any possible applicants.

“Is there anyone you currently find attractive?” Mingi breaks the thoughtful silence, looking at you with intrigue. Despite the question sounding like it could very easily be another way for him to tease you, his serious expression persuades you otherwise.

You have one person that instantly comes to mind when you hear his question, but that person also happens to the very guy that you’ve known the longest. The very guy that thinks you completed your list. The very guy that you’ve always fantasised about having something more with, and yet, you know that could never happen.

“There might be one person…” You apprehensively mumble, avoiding eye contact with Mingi in case there’s any way he’s able to read your face and know who you’re thinking of.

“Well, who is it?” He presses, hating the suspense. But you’re still undecided if you want to admit it out loud or not.

~

So it’s the evening of your birthday and you find yourself around your friend Yunho’s place.

All your close friends are here, gathered in the small apartment living room. You appreciate the effort Yunho has gone to, putting up multicoloured balloons and placing some snacks on the table, along with a few options of drinks. There’s music playing lightly in the background, not that you’d notice unless you listened out for it, and joy filled conversations fill the air.

As much as you don’t want to appear ungrateful for the effort of your friends, you can’t help yourself from not feeling as talkative and excitable as you usually are. Instead, you opt to sit quietly on the sofa and sip at your drink, watching everyone interact and laughing when Wooyoung clumsily spills coke on the carpet, immediately freaking out and rushing away from the crime scene before he gets caught.

“Sad about being old?” San cheekily pesters as he perches next to you. You chuckle and shake your head, choosing to focus on swirling the liquid around in your cup.

“Your 21st is next month.” You retort airily.

“Seriously though, what’s wrong?” San leans closer to you as he speaks quietly. He can sense that there’s something on your mind and that you clearly don’t want to talk about it in front of an audience.

Luckily for you, you’d chosen to sit on the sofa in the back corner of the room. It was the perfect spot to be out of the midst of the party without leaving the room. That’s why you’d managed to not arouse attention from anyone until San approached.

Finally casting your gaze away from your cup, you notice his concern and decide that now is as good a time as any to come clean to him.

“Do you remember that list we came up with as kids?” You partially mumble, insecure about his reaction. And you don’t need to say anymore, your guilty expression tells all.

“Oh.” San’s eyes widen in realisation, leaning back a little in surprise as all the memories flood back to him. He really hadn’t thought about it in ages. “I thought you completed it?” He scrunches his brows in bewilderment.

You feel ashamed of yourself, only managing to shake your head no in response to his question.

“What do you have left?” San softly encourages you to open up, still keeping his voice hushed in case of any eavesdroppers.

“I’ve never had the perfect kiss…” Your voice becomes shallow. It’s almost painful to admit to him. Even though you are fully aware that it’s not the worst thing in the world and that San doesn’t seem to be mad at you for lying to him. His sympathy doesn’t help though.

There’s a pause between you for a minute, both of you simply staring at each other. Albeit you don’t miss the quick flicker of his eyes to your lips; it doesn’t last more than half a second.

“Happy birthday to you~” The sudden singing jolts you back into the party, Yunho’s hand reaching out to pull you into the centre of the room as everyone sings to you.

They’re none the wiser to the moment they have interrupted, each with an elated beam on their face as you are manoeuvred to the table where the birthday cake is waiting, candles ready for you to blow out.

As the song ends it falls silent with anticipation for you to blow out the candles. But you can’t. They seem to be taunting you, dancing around as if they have won. Because blowing out the candles means exactly that. You’ve been defeated.

“I’m sorry.” You gulp, sprinting out of the room as fast as you can.

Everyone watches, perplexed faces and soft “ohh’s” being uttered in surprise. Mingi, understanding what your reason is, casts his focus towards San.

“I’ll go.” San announces, stopping a very concerned Mingi from chasing after you.

You find yourself in the shared garden of Yunho’s apartment complex, needing the fresh air and space to compose yourself.

“I’m an idiot.” You grumble to yourself, covering your face with your palms in distress before pulling them away and shaking off the panic. You take a few deep breaths and relax your shoulders, preparing yourself to go back inside and face everyone.

You spin back around and instantly freeze in place, your mouth hanging agape as you turn to see San stood a meter behind you. He must have seen you trying to calm down.

But his expression isn’t worried or sympathetic like before. It carries a sense of thought and decisiveness, which springs him into action as he urgently rushes to you.

Without being given a second to comprehend what’s about to happen, you are swept up into his arms, one of his hands holding your cheek as he pulls you towards him by your waist. His lips smash against yours abrasively, but not so hard that it hurts, just enough to convey all his pent up feelings. It’s hurried but passionate.

It takes you a second to respond, but you feel him smile when you kiss back. Your head spinning as you melt into his embrace. Your entire being consumed by him, the world fizzing around you in a blurry haze.

You pull apart breathless, panting hot breath as your noses brush against each other’s. San’s smile melts your heart. And you know if you were able to form a coherent thought in your mind, it’d be that you must be dreaming.

You take a moment to take him in, noticing how his hair is splayed out messily across his forehead, the ends irritating his eyes and it’s almost funny how he still hasn’t cut them. But this time you give in to temptation, your hand instinctively reaching out to brush the strands away so you can admire him properly.

“That was perfect.” You confess, cherry tinted cheeks only growing warmer and warmer. “Thank you.” You whisper, an elated giggle tumbling from your lips.

“I’m glad I could help.” San coo’s, his eyes drinking you in as his hand reaches back out to hold your chin. “Think you’re ready to blow out those candles now?” He quirks his brow, taking the opportunity to lightly tease you while he knows he can get away with it.

You attempt to roll your eyes at him but he places a quick peck on your lips to distract you.

“Now I am.” You grin, separating from San enough to take in some fresh air, his hand simultaneously taking yours and intertwining your fingers together. And that’s how you stay as you head back to the party, finally ready to turn 21 with your completed list.

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

The Only Woman

Pairing: (Henry Cavill!)Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Requested: Yep - “Hello Ma’amMay I request a Sherlock Holemes x Redaer?That when they were younger she was BSF with Sherlock and Mycroft. And all of the sudden they disappeared and never wrote to her a letter or nothing. And she got closer to Enola and when Edoria disappeared she reunites with Sherlock and Mycroft and Reader is Mad and Sad that he left without saying nothing. She always was in love with him and at the end she finds out he also was in love with her! And lots of fluffThank You so MuchAnonymous (she/her/hers)”

Summary: Basically just the request

Warnings: Probably some swearing, some 20th century misogyny, pining, fluff, angst, denial, all that fun stuff, probably ooc Sherlock but we vibe with it because he’s soft af

A/N: My first full length Sherlock fic! I should mention that my requests aren’t actually open right now, especially not for full fics but I was inspired by this request and so decided to make it into a full one! I hope you guys enjoy, please remember to reblog, comment or send an ask letting me know what you think and if you want to see me write more for Sherlock (and Henry and his other characters for that matter) in the future!

Y/N had been essentially another resident of the Holmes household her whole life, having been introduced to the family through the two boys - Sherlock and Mycroft, whom she had run into while out playing in the woods. Her family lived in the house nearest to the Holmes residence, technically making them neighbours.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t exactly do ‘friends’, that much had been clear even to Y/N’s young mind after meeting them. She was a year and a half younger than Sherlock and yet she still knew more about interacting with other people than he did. Not that either of the Holmes boys had ever seemed interested in other people, they had their brains to keep them occupied, and when they failed to find entertainment in learning, they had each other.

Despite this, they took a shine to Y/N when they found her playing make-believe on her own in the woods and insisted that she come over to have dinner with them and their family.

Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone out of their way, following that initial visit, to make Y/N feel as welcome as possible at Ferndell Hall. At first this was simply because they were astounded that their sons had actually made a friend and seemed interested in maintaining this friendship, but then it was partially as a result of the somewhat turbulent relationship that it became clear Y/N had with her family.

Eudoria in particular had ensured that Y/N knew she could always come and visit, that there was a spare bedroom that could be set up should she require it, which Y/N only began to take advantage of as she grew up and the rows with her parents over her future became more frequent.

However, it was always Sherlock that she was closest to. While she considered Mycroft a friend, and he had grudgingly returned the sentiment, they had never clicked in the same way that Y/N had with Sherlock. Occasionally Mycroft would storm off midway through a game, frustrated by Sherlock’s intelligence which so trumped his and Y/N’s, or he would simply decide that he was ‘above’ having friends.

Sherlock never much minded Y/N hanging around though. Truthfully, now that she was grown, Y/N looked back at their years of friendship and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his reason for tolerating her company was because she gave him the awed reactions that he secretly desired from his intelligence.

She had fond memories of her childhood with the Holmes. At Ferndell she never felt the need to pretend to be a young lady ready to be married that her parents so desperately wanted her to be, even as a child. Mr Holmes encouraged her to continue her studies beyond what her Governess would teach her, and Eudoria actively tried to teach her all that she could, going so far as to teach her alongside her sons on occasion - Mycroft wasn’t exactly fond of that, though Sherlock appeared to enjoy her company.

And then there was Enola, a surprisingly timid child considering the family that she had been born into - though Eudoria was convinced that her shyness was a trait that she would soon grow out of. Enola adored Y/N.

While Sherlock and Mycroft paid their little sister no mind, too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge their baby sister’s, Y/N was fond of Enola. Having grown up in a male-dominated household with only brothers for company, she had always wanted a younger sister.

It was Mr Holmes’ death that changed everything.

Not long after his death, Y/N was saying goodbye to her two closest friends as they left for Boarding School. Y/N had promised to write to them and had been encouraged to do so by Sherlock, who seemed thrilled by the prospect of their continued communication and Mycroft had also seemed somewhat in favour of the idea.

Y/N wrote to the brothers for a year after they left. Her letters to Sherlock in particular were long and full of detail about both her life, her parents continued attempts to interest her in marriage and her attempts to further her education, as well as the lives of Eudoria and Enola.

After a year of these letters, however, Y/N had yet to receive word from either brother and thus, with a heavy heart, she had halted her letter writing and turned her mind away from the Holmes brothers. 

Eudoria had ensured that Y/N still knew that she was welcome whenever she wanted to come over, however, and so Y/N’s life at Ferndell continued even with the absence of the boys she had considered to be her closest friends.

Y/N had been the first to be informed that Eudoria had disappeared, Enola having ran over to her house the day of her sixteenth birthday in a state of distress, imploring the older woman to help her. They had agreed that it was best for Sherlock and Mycroft to be contacted at once, with Sherlock’s career, Enola had been certain that her brother would make himself indispensable.

Y/N had been less keen on writing to the Holmes brothers, dreading having to see her old friends again, still far more hurt than she could care to admit about their silence following their departure. Every time in the past week that Enola had brought up the topic of her brothers, Y/N had been quick to change the subject.

A decision that she was coming to regret now that she approached Ferndell to find an automobile parked outside of it. Y/N bit back a groan, aware that its presence more than likely meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would be waiting inside.

Y/N didn’t knock before she entered, she never had as she had basically been a part of the family over the past few years.

She could hear the low mumble of voices coming from the drawing room, which were becoming steadily louder and Y/N’s expression dropped into a deep frown as she stepped towards the room, recognising Enola’s voice, breaking with emotion, even through the closed doors.

Before she could place her hand on the knob, however, the door was flung open and Enola rushed out, crashing into Y/N, who almost dropped the bags she was holding.

“Enola?” Y/N breathed, her hands gripping onto the young girl’s shoulders, steadying her. 

“Y/N!” Enola embraced her tightly, though not before Y/N caught sight of her face, flushed red and eyes shining with tears, her expression the picture of distress.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why are you… in your undergarments?” Y/N asked in a rush as Enola pulled away. The teenager wiped fiercely at her face, clenching her jaw.

“My brothers are here…” Enola seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before shaking her head. “I wish to be alone.”

With that, Enola pushed past her and shortly after Y/N heard footsteps on the stairs. Y/N looked back to the door to the drawing room and caught a glimpse of a man holding a book, chestnut curls falling over his forehead, his brown eyes just visible, his brow furrowed as though he were frowning.

Sherlock was recognisable immediately. His eyes moved over to the door, away from the chair Y/N knew to be facing him in the room which she assumed seated Mycroft, and his book lowered, his head raising and his lips parting in slight surprise - an expression that Y/N had never seen on him in the entire duration of their friendship.

Before he could say anything, however, Y/N turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said from where she was kneading bread dough on the kitchen counter.

“Morning, Mrs Lane - I see that Enola’s brothers have arrived.”

“Yes, they got here yesterday,” Mrs Lane confirmed as Y/N placed down the bags of food she had bought and began to unpack them into the pantry. Knowing how overworked Mrs Lane had been, staffing the house alone, particularly since Eudoria’s absence, Y/N had taken to doing the food shopping for them.

“Enola seemed very upset,” Y/N said, unable to conceal her worry.

“Yes - Mr Mycroft has been less than impressed by both the state of the house and Enola herself.”

“Why?” Y/N demanded, her frown deepening, the beginnings of anger festering in her stomach.

“He doesn’t think Mrs Holmes did a good job of raising her,” Mrs Lane looked equally disgusted by the words even as she spoke them. “He wishes to send her to a finishing school to turn her into a proper lady.”

“But can’t he see that she’s happy here?”

“I don’t think Mr Holmes much cares,” Mrs Lane admitted.

“What does Sherlock think of all of it?”

“He has been rather silent on the matter, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said, shaking her head and sighing. “I fear Enola has been rather disappointed by the brother she so idolised.”

“She said she wished to be alone for a while,” Y/N said, leaning on the counter and rubbing her forehead, wanting to ease out the deep concern she was feeling for the girl she had come to think of as a sister. “I’ll try and talk to her in a little bit,” she decided and Mrs Lane nodded her approval.

Y/N ventured out into the garden half an hour later, figuring that that was ample time for Enola to think it over for herself. Y/N knew exactly where the Holmes daughter would be, she knew that Enola had a favourite tree in the garden where she would go, should she want to get away from the house for a little bit.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find Sherlock walking back from the direction of the very tree Y/N knew Enola to be hiding in. He looked deep in thought, but there was no denying the very slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Y/N allowed her head to fall, her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that there was even the smallest chance that Sherlock may not notice her.

“Y/N - it was you I saw,” there was an edge of something like delight in his voice as he spoke and Y/N wanted to look up, to see his expression, to confirm that he was smiling as he acknowledged her.

Instead, she chose to ignore him and attempted to continue walking.

“Y/N!” Sherlock called, and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her arm, pulling her ever-so carefully back to stand in front of her.

“Mr Holmes,” Y/N returned his greeting, lifting her head to watch his features fall into a slight frown.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be here,” Sherlock said, his eyes searching hers.

“I was always welcome at Ferndell,” Y/N responded stiffly. “Now I must go and speak with Enola,” she said, turning ready to leave him.

“Y-” Sherlock cut himself off from saying her name. “Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected, and Y/N risked a glance at her old friend over her shoulder, seeing his brow crinkled in confusion, an expression that she had rarely seen during their childhood.

“Yes, Mr Holmes?”

“How have you been?” Sherlock was floundering, that much was obvious. All the articles about him that Y/N and Enola had read, all her memories of him from her younger years had always portrayed him as being calm, collected, ready with his words. Seeing him now, in this state of uncertainty, caused by seeing her for the first time after so many years, it brought her a sense of satisfaction.

“Fine thank you, now if you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t give Sherlock a chance to respond, walking away from him as quickly as possible, though she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left him behind.

Enola was sitting on the grass at the base of the tree, her back pressed up against it, her sketchbook balanced on her lap but her eyes were glazed over and looking at the scenery rather than at the pages.

“Can I join you?”

The teenager started, her eyes widening in slight shock but then she relaxed as her eyes landed on Y/N, who she offered a small, tired smile and nodded her head. Once Y/N had seated herself on the ground, Enola scooted over to rest her head on her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I’m glad to see you’ve put on clothes now,” Y/N finally broke the silence and the younger girl laughed a little.

“Apparently my proportions are incorrect,” Enola informed her.

“Yes, I often find myself thinking that,” Y/N teased and Enola giggled again, playfully elbowing Y/N in the side. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to go to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School for Young Girls.”

“Finishing school is the worst,” Y/N agreed. 

“I remember when you went,” Enola murmured. “Mother said you hated it.”

“I did,” Y/N confirmed. “I begged my parents every holiday to not send me back, I think I even asked your mother at one point to adopt me so that I wouldn’t have to go,” Y/N chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. “It was a source of great amusement for my brothers.”

“Mine too,” Enola said darkly. “Mycroft is an utter pig, you know.” 

Y/N laughed again at the choice of words.

“Family reunion didn’t go quite as planned, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a hat or gloves,” Enola sighed. 

“So off to finishing school?”

“The only logical course of action,” Enola agreed, her tone biting. “You were friends with them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, wary of where this conversation was going. “But I stand no chance of changing their minds. Mycroft was always stubborn, even when we were children, and I haven’t seen them since they went to boarding school.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help,” Y/N said, her heart aching for the young woman.

“It’s okay,” Enola murmured. “I was just wondering, though… Sherlock was talking about me as a child - you must have known me at the same time as him, yes?” Y/N nodded her confirmation. “I think I have more memories of you than him or Mycroft.”

“I spent a lot of time with you,” Y/N shrugged.

“He said that I used to drag a pinecone around with me.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing as the memory struck her.

“Oh yes - a little pinecone, wrapped in wool that you dragged around on a string because of Queen Victoria’s spaniel. Called… Dash? I think?”

“That’s what Sherlock said, yes,” Enola straightened up, a slight grin on her face. “So it’s true?”

“Yes, you were rather obsessed with the thing,” Y/N confirmed, still chuckling a little. Silence fell between them, comfortable and thoughtful.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What were my brothers like growing up?”

Y/N thought hard before answering, her mind going back to her childhood.

“They were fun,” Y/N said at last. “They both knew that they were smarter than me, and I think that that was at least part of the reason they kept me around. Sherlock would teach me things - things that my Governess wouldn’t have thought I ought to know…” Y/N trailed off. “They were kind,” she admitted at last. “Albeit a little aloof at times, a little arrogant, they were always kind to me. I think Sherlock could tell immediately that I was unhappy with my family, and that was why they brought me to Ferndell,” Y/N confided.

“Mycroft was kind to you?” Enola asked, staring at her wide-eyed. 

“He didn’t know any better until he went out into the world,” Y/N replied, smiling a little.

“I won’t let him send me to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School For Girls,” Enola stated defiantly.

“No,” Y/N agreed. “I don’t think that you should.”

///

Y/N was reading outside when the maid came to see her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there’s a Mr Holmes here to see you,” Freya spoke, her eyebrows raised just a tad in a teasing way, indicating that she thought it was a romantic house-call. Y/N frowned in return.

“Mr Holmes?” She repeated. “Not Enola?”

“If it’s Enola then she’s certainly changed a lot since I last saw her,” Freya said. “Mr Holmes is in the drawing room.”

Y/N closed her book and stood, following the maid inside, through the house and into the drawing room. She pushed the door open, still confused as to why either of the Holmes brothers would feel the need to make a house call to see her.

Sherlock was standing in the drawing room, his back to her as he stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. She closed the door as quietly as she could, but the soft sound caught the attention of the detective anyway. Sherlock turned and offered her an unsure, gentle smile.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes,” Y/N said, bowing her head just slightly towards him. She thought she saw Sherlock’s smile falter just a tad before he returned her greeting. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m afraid I bring some bad news,” Sherlock said, walking away from the fireplace. Y/N stepped further into the room and indicated a chair. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down, Y/N seating herself in the armchair across from him. “Enola has run away.”

“Is that really all that surprising?” Y/N sighed, though his words did immediately cause her to worry for the young girl.

“Were you aware of what she was planning?” Sherlock asked.

“No. It just doesn’t surprise me.”

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, seemingly analyzing her expression and finally he gave a slow nod of his head.

“So I take it that she hasn’t contacted you at all?” He asked.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday when I left Ferndell,” Y/N confirmed, attempting to keep her features as neutral as possible.

Sherlock frowned at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Even if she had, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But you can’t blame me for that. We both know that Finishing School is not where Enola’s time would be best spent. Besides, from what she told me Miss Harrison seems a foul woman.”

She thought she saw Sherlock’s lips twitch as though he wanted to smile, but then he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.

“You know, there was a time when you would tell me everything,” he reminded her.

“And there was a time that you found me utterly insufferable for that,” Y/N countered, her words sounding like she was spitting venom at him.

“I never found you insufferable,” Sherlock said, a chuckle in his voice. 

“Is that so?” Y/N mused, quirking her eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps a little slow at times, but I wouldn’t take that personally,” she hated how teasing he sounded, as though nothing had changed since he left. Sherlock clearly picked up on the anger festering in the pit of her stomach and spoke again before she had time to lash out. “But I never found you insufferable.”

Y/N made a noise conveying how unconvinced she was by his words and she stood from the chair.

“If that’s all…”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed with something similar to disappointment before he, too, stood and adjusted his suit jacket slightly.

“Yes… that’s all,” he said. “I thank you for your time.”

Y/N nodded and watched as Sherlock crossed the room to stand in front of the door, reaching out a hand towards the doorknob. Before he could turn it, though, Y/N was hit by a sudden wave of concern.

“Mr Holmes?”

The man paused and looked back at her over his shoulder at her.

“You… if you find her, or here anything… could you let me know? She’s only young… I worry about her.”

Sherlock bowed his head in a sign of consent.

“I will keep you updated, I promise.”

“Thank you… Sherlock.”

Just as Sherlock had promised, he kept her updated on the situation with Enola as best as he could and she received letters from him every other day, even if he had found no new leads.

On the days that he had nothing new to report, his letters were filled with updates about his own life, general musings, his theories about both Enola’s whereabouts and other, unofficial cases that had caught his eye. 

In short, they were the most un-Sherlock-like letters that Y/N could have ever imagined receiving and every time the post came she felt her heart lift in hope that there would be another one for her.

The only letter that Y/N had replied to, however, was one dated about a week and a half after Enola’s disappearance, in which Sherlock told her that he had asked Mycroft to pass over his duties and to make Enola his ward, filing Y/N in on the details about what had happened with Enola and the case of the missing Maquis. Sherlock had also let her know that he had attempted to make contact with his sister via newspaper and that she had indeed come to the meeting spot but had been disguised.

From the tone of that letter, it had been clear to Y/N that Sherlock truly cared for his younger sister, and that he knew that she would be capable of taking care of herself despite the worry that he so clearly felt over her.

After having received a response from Y/N after that letter, Sherlock had implored her to keep replying, but Y/N had not. She was afraid of falling into the same trap that she had when they were kids - of allowing herself to get too close to him, to feel something for him, when it was never going to go anywhere.

Y/N had allowed her heart to be broken by Sherlock Holmes once before, when she was too young to truly understand matters of the heart. She wasn’t going to do it again.

About a week after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Enola and Tewkesbury, however, Y/N got another surprise in the post. A letter from Enola herself, detailing Y/N with much of the same information that had already been given to her by Sherlock, though with more detail and far more reassurance that she truly was safe and secure and comfortable in her newfound lodgings in London.

In the final paragraph of the letter, there was a plea from Enola, imploring Y/N to go and visit her in London - she had attached a date for the following week and the address of a cafe that she said she thought Y/N would appreciate.

And so Y/N found herself boarding a train the next week, ready to meet Enola in London, agreeing to stay with her for a couple of days so that they could properly catch up.

Just as she was settling into the carriage, the train about to leave the station, the door slid open again and a familiar face appeared.

“May I join you?” Sherlock asked, a somewhat nervous smile on his face. Y/N returned it and nodded her head.

“Of course,” Sherlock entered into the compartment, closing the door behind him and placing his bag onto the overhead luggage rack and taking the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that you were back here?” 

“Only for a night - Mycroft demanded my help,” Sherlock explained. “I thought about visiting you, but I was unsure of how much it would be appreciated,” he added. Y/N bowed her head a little, finding herself unable to maintain eye contact with him. “You didn’t reply to my letters.”

“Yes I did.”

Y/N risked a glance up and saw Sherlock’s lips quirk a little, holding back a smile.

“I apologise - you replied to only one of my letters.”

“That’s one more than you replied to of mine,” Y/N pointed out, raising her eyebrows challengingly. Sherlock didn’t even attempt to keep his smile at bay, grinning at her in the familiar cheeky way that Y/N remembered from their childhood.

“I wasn’t aware of how good you were at bearing grudges,” he mused, leaning back in his seat.

“Well perhaps if you’d come to visit you would have realised,” Y/N muttered, opening her bag that rested on the chair beside her and pulled out the book she was reading.

Before she could open it, though, Sherlock’s hand pressed down on the cover, preventing her from doing so.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” he whispered and when Y/N met his eyes again they were so filled with genuine apology and concern.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what an apology was,” but she smiled a little, seeing how Sherlock’s eyes brightened 

“Well I’ve been attempting to catch up on them as of late.”

“Enola?”

“I have yet to find her to give her one,” Sherlock confessed, leaning back at last. “You’re going down to see her, aren’t you?”

Y/N knew there was no point in denying it, Sherlock was always capable of telling when people were lying. He had always been particularly quick at picking up on Y/N’s lies as well when they were children.

“Yes - she wrote inviting me down last week,” Sherlock nodded slowly.

“Would you… would you let me know that she’s safe - that her lodgings are comfortable?”

“I’ll let her know you asked,” Y/N said instead, her voice quiet and full of understanding.

“Thank you,” Sherlock swallowed hard.

Silence fell between them. The most comfortable silence that had existed between them since their reunion.

“I did miss you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I left home - I did miss you. I know you think I didn’t, and it’s understandable, but I did,” Sherlock confessed.

“Why didn’t you reply?” Y/N asked and she hated the desperation in her voice, the plea to understand why so many years had passed in silence. “Why didn’t you come and visit?”

“I don’t have a good reason for why I did - or didn’t - do any of it. And I’m so sorry,” Sherlock sighed but Y/N frowned at him, noticing how his gaze briefly dropped her own as he spoke, how his fingers fidgeted slightly on his lap.

“I know you’re the detective of the two of us, but I know when you lie, Sherlock Holmes,” Y/N didn’t know what made her do it, but she lent forwards and grabbed one of his hands between her own. “Tell me the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock studied her hard for a long minute, his eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every inch of her features and there was an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

“Mycroft used to… make fun of me, when we were children. Because he knew how I… how I felt about you. I’ve never quite… understood why he did, he always liked you, even if he never admitted it, but I hated it. I hated Mycroft making fun of me, it made me feel like he was smarter than me…” Sherlock’s cheeks reddened. “I did not mean for that to sound as conceited as it did.”

“To be fair, you were quite a conceited child,” Y/N teased, squeezing his hand and Sherlock chuckled. “But… what do you mean, how you felt about me?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, I always was a little slow,” she grinned, “at least compared to you.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she could barely breathe from the excitement at the idea that Sherlock was hinting at what she thought he was.

“You have to know by now that you are the only woman who I have ever held a place for in my heart.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders bashfully. “Or you were.”

“Enola?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. He lifted her hand tentatively up, pressing his lips gently against the back of it, keeping his gaze lowered. “I just hope that you know you never left it.”

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, the two of them having the final catch up that had been missing for so many years, everything feeling as though it was falling back into place, just like everything had been when they were kids.

By the time the train pulled into the station at London, Y/N had no desire to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, and by the way he loitered with her on the platform, it appeared that the sentiment was returned.

“Where are you headed?” Sherlock inquired. “I know Enola wouldn’t want you to tell me her address, but…”

“I’m actually meeting her at a cafe,” Y/N told him, adjusting her grip on her bag and smiling at him.

“In that case… would you allow me to escort you? London can be rather confusing at times, especially for those used to the country lifestyle,” he suggested and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was blushing a little in embarrassment.

“I would appreciate that yes, thank you Sherlock,” she agreed and Sherlock offered her his arm.

Enola did not seem overly surprised at Sherlock’s presence beside Y/N. There was a slight raise of her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her face and a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she walked over to them, her arms laden with a bunch of yellow roses.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said, completely bypassing her brother and embracing Y/N as carefully as she could with the flowers in her hands.

“I was so happy to hear from you, I was so worried about you,” Y/N told her, pulling away and examining her surrogate sister for any trace of hurt.

“I promise I’m fine,” Enola laughed, holding out the flowers for her. “I bought these for you, though.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

Enola’s eyes slid over to Sherlock at last, who was standing awkwardly to the side. Y/N could sense how his own gaze was flicking continuously between herself and his sister, clearly overjoyed at seeing her again but also wanting to continue the conversation he and Y/N had been holding on the train.

“It’s more of an apology, actually,” Enola mused. “I’m afraid that something has come up and my assistance is required… elsewhere. Perhaps Sherlock would take my place?” She raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“I-uh-”

“Fantastic!” Enola cheered, hugging Y/N once more and giving a nod to her brother before rushing away.

“Did your sister just set us up?” Y/N asked, turning to face the younger Holmes brother.

“I think so,” Sherlock confirmed. “For what it’s worth, she hasn’t gone far, I believe she has every intention of snooping on us.”

Y/N laughed at that piece of knowledge, rolling her eyes affectionately at Enola’s antics before placing her hand once more in Sherlock’s arm. He reached across her to take her bag to allow her to hold the flowers.

“Well we wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?” Y/N said, nodding towards the door to the cafe, not missing the affectionate smile it brought to Sherlock’s face.

As he held the door open for her, Y/N reached up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

[softyoongiionly]

Talk to Me in Korean (Advanced Edition)

Your boyfriend’s English is basically better than yours at this point.

After an amazing birthday, he decides to use his newfound skills to get ahead and begin planning next years celebration.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: established relationship au, domestic au, idol! jk, this is a part three to my other talk to me in korean installments but they don’t have to be read in order :)

A/N: Hiiii I’m back??? Hopefully??? This past month has been ROUGH (but like 2020 am I rite?) so I’ve been having a ton of writers block but as always, Jungkook has a way of pulling me out of all of the that. I’m sorry this is like my 50000th domestic jk story in a row ok??? I CANT HELP IT, ITS HIS FAULT. okiii anyway I love you, it’s 3am- this is unedited and im so sleepy. I love you again. 

Warnings: smut (18+ only plz), more so dirty talking than anything but stillll 

Fresh coffee.  

It’s the first thing Jungkook smells when his eyes peek open.  

His flush against the white cotton of the pillow that still holds the scent of your shampoo.  

He literally can’t help the grin that erupts onto his lips as he remembers exactly how the night before played out.  

As he remembers exactly where he is.  

He remembers that his members had organized a surprise dinner for his birthday party which included the finest selection of meat, veggies and various other side dishes money could buy.  

Not to mention, they ended the evening the introduction of a giant banana milk themed cake.  

Despite stuffing himself till near immobilization as well as being surrounded by his best friends, nothing could have prepared him for his final gift: you.  

The boys had flown you in from out of town and organized for your arrival in the middle of the party.  

Jungkook may have shed a few tears as nothing could have made him happier than seeing his beautiful girlfriend pushing through the doors of the venue.  

Once the boys had gone to home, Jungkook had taken you up to his room to finish off the evening with birthday sex.  

Predictable? Maybe.

Did either of you care? Absolutely not.  

It had been 3 months since the two of you had seen each other and he was nothing short of desperate for your touch.  

Now however, he’s experiencing a different kind of bliss as the smell of bacon begins to waft in through his cracked bedroom door.  

His smile broadens as he realizes very quickly that the same beautiful woman who had made his birthday so special had woken up early to make him breakfast.  

He cannot begin to imagine how lucky he is but, he plans on using his day off to show you how much he appreciates you.  

In a million different ways...

Running a hand through the raven locks on his head, he pushes himself to a sitting position. Upon doing so, he notices the faint red marks over the valleys and curves of his stomach whilst simultaneously feeling a hint of pain across the middle of his back. He smirks to himself and curiously runs the tips of his fingers over the aggravated flesh of his stomach.  

What a night...

He finally stands up, moving his body in every necessary direction to stretch out the soreness in his muscles before taking note of his current attire.  

Given the events of last night, it surprised him that he had even managed to pull on the pair of white boxer-briefs that currently adorned his figure. He assumed he had fallen asleep naked.  

Jungkook experiences a pivotal moment then, completely on his own.  

He realizes that he doesn’t want to put anything else on.  

To some people, this wouldn’t be a big deal but to Jungkook, its everything.  

When he first travelled to Seoul, he was too shy to remove his shirt in front of his hyungs, let a lone strut around the dorm in his boxers.  

But with you, he’s finally starting to realize that not only is he comfortable with you but, he has a massive desire to express that to you.  

He wants you to have parts of him that no one else has.  

He wants you to know that you’re the only one who gets him this way.  

Without the fancy clothes, the layers of makeup, the band aids on his tattoos, the carefully scripted words and persona...

That you alone have all of him.  

He chuckles to himself, running a hand through his hair once again as he picks on himself for making such a big deal out of something so small.

But he knows that you’d get it and that quickly squashes any of his desire to make fun of himself.  

As he approaches his bedroom door, he feels the ghost of nerves directly in the pit of his stomach.  

Why was he nervous? You’ve literally seen him naked before.

He’s been inside of you more times than he can count so why was he overthinking going out to greet his girlfriend in his boxers?

He rolls his eyes at himself, “Because you’re weird, that’s why...” He mutters to himself before finally pushing open the door.  

His kitchen is off to the left, slightly tucked behind a bit of wall and he is annoyed with the layout of his apartment because he is getting in the way of immediately seeing your pretty face.  

When he does see you however, it’s entirely worth the wait.  

You’ve got a portable speaker set up a safe distance away from your work station emitting a bit of soothing music throughout the kitchen along with a pot of fresh coffee on the island with his favorite Iron Man mug sitting right next to it, awaiting his arrival. There’s a few pans on the stovetop sizzling with various breakfast items that Jungkook doesn’t care to notice at first because his eyes are far too concerned with you.  

And boy does he desperately wish that this was his daily life...

Your wear minimal clothing as well but there are fuzzy socks on your feet and a bit of bedhead adorning your crown and that’s really all that he needs to see to conclude that you are the most fantastic thing to ever grace the planet.  

“G’morning...” He nearly mumbles, placing a hand on the counter.

He ensures his voice is soft enough not to startle you and thankfully his presence emits nothing more but a smile from your lips.

You turn towards him with the same smile, eyes raking over his body shamelessly before returning his greeting, “Good morning birthday boy. Did you sleep ok?”

He chuckles lightly, his head cocking to the side in confusion, “My birthday was...yesterday yeah?”

Your smile grows at his question as you make your way over to the sleepy man before you.

“It was.” You concede and as you near his figure, you slide your hands around his waist, “But I wasn’t with you the whole day so, I’m trying to make up for lost time.”

Immediately, he grins boyishly his capable hands sliding up your body to pull you flush against his.

“But you already gave me so many presents...” He insists, leaning towards your lips, “Remember last night?”

You take a moment to admire how good his English has gotten and silently applaud him for managing to lead such an incredibly busy life and learn a second language all at the same time. You try your best not to vocalize your praise to often though because you know how shy it makes him.  

Before you can answer, he presses his lips to yours, humming gently in his throat and promptly smiling into your mouth.  

As you indulge in him for a moment your fingers gently brush the tan skin across his back. Your touch sends a shiver up your boyfriends back which then gives you no choice but to return the smile present in your kiss.

“Duh...” You murmur which prompts a delighted chuckle to escape his mouth, “How could I forget? You were like superman last night with all that stamina...”

Your observation causes your boyfriend to frown playfully as he points to the mug sitting atop the counter.

“Not superman- Iron Man.” He insists, still holding you close, the warmth of his presence infecting you.  

With a snort, you pull back slightly to catch the glint in his eyes, “I don’t know how me comparing you to Ironman would make much sense babe but, if you want to be Iron Man then how am I to deny you?”

Jungkook smirks, already satisfied with his response before he’s even uttered it.

“I’m like Iron Man because he is a machine...” He wiggles his brows at you, “...and so am I.”

After the look of incredulity that crosses your face, you have no choice but to laugh, leaning slightly away from him to indicate that you have to head back to your breakfast before it burns.

“Alright fair enough-” You concede, still giggling a bit as his grip tightens on your body, his own beautiful smile still present on his mouth, “I gotta finish cooking, or else we’re gonna have burnt bacon for breakfast.”

He shrugs, unimpressed as he uses his inhuman strength to hug you tighter,  “Bacon is bacon.”

This prompts more laughter as he reluctantly walks to the stove with you, your body still encased in his grip.

“I can’t cook with your mega muscles constricting my arms-” You point out, craning your neck slightly to try and meet his gaze, a ghost of a smile on your lips, which is still locked onto a mixture of mischief and joy.

With a furrowed brow he leans in slowly before pecking your lips quickly and finally releasing you, “What is constricting?”

His question is asked from near the coffee pot, his hands gingerly moving his mug closer to him.

He is VERY careful with this particular mug.

“Constricting is like when you squeeze something really really tight-” You explain softly, taking the now well-done strips of bacon out of the pan before laying them on some paper towels.

He’s pouring himself a cup of coffee, his eyes narrowed in focus as he nods, “Ohhh ok- you mean like how snakes do?”

“Yeah exactly!” You smile brightly, turning towards him with encouragement on your face, “that’s why we call certain kinds of snakes constrictors because that’s how they kill their pray. Honestly, it wasn’t the best word choice on my part because, people definitely use the word squeeze more but-”

He shakes his head then, his eyes still focusing on preparing his cup of coffee, “It doesn’t matter- you taught me another new word without even trying to.” He assures you before a cocky smirk comes across his face, “I bet I know more words than Namjoon-hyung now...”

His comment makes you laugh as his competitiveness is something you adore despite the fact that you don’t fully understand it.

“Oh for sure, you probably know more words than I do honestly, with how often you practice.”  

Jungkook smiles broadens at your praise, his eyes finally flitting up towards you, “Probably.”

He laughs along with you now, the sound of your giggling sending warmth into his heart as he brings the mug to his lips.

“You’re a brat.” You point out simply, still smiling because you literally do nothing else with this kid as you begin to fry up the last batch of bacon.

Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist whilst his nose burrows playfully into your neck, “Noooo an angel.”

Snorting again, you pretend his lips near such a sensitive area doesn’t affect you as you continue with your current task, “An angel? What on Earth would make you think that?”

Your teasing prompts a bout of snickering to leave his lips as he hugs you tighter to him, the soft scent of his hair sending a wave of comfort through you.

“You call me a good boy all the time...”

Although his comment is meant to be innocent, the way he intentionally lowers his tone causes your thighs to press together.

“I do,” You admit, trying to keep it together as you crack a few eggs into an awaiting pan, “I don’t know if that makes you an angel though.”

Jungkook senses the change in your voice and rather then shy away from the direction the conversation is heading, he decides to go with it.  

“That’s true-” He murmurs and it’s then you can feel the smirk against the curve of your neck, “Especially since you only call me that when I’m making you cum huh?”

This causes your eyes to grow wide and given that your flirtatious boyfriend is staring at you already, there is no way for you to hide it.

So instead you play along, enjoying this new side of him more than you care to admit.

“Exactly.” You mutter, giggling to yourself as you feel a bit of heat on your cheeks, “Go set the table or something- you're going to make me burn the kitchen down.”

With a cheeky giggle, he seems satisfied with his mission to fluster you, placing a kiss to your cheek and rushing off to do as you’ve asked him to.

Breakfast passes without any more of Jungkook’s reckless behavior and you’re thankful for it because, you sincerely doubt that you’d be able to focus on your plate when you have a foul-mouthed buffet sitting across from you.

Jungkook insists on helping you clean up whilst also reminding you once again that his birthday was yesterday and that he doesn’t want any more special treatment.

All he wants is to be with you today.

You honor his request by sitting up a massive mountain of pillows and blankets in his living room and situating yourselves in front of his flat screen.

With the curtains closed and the scent of Jungkook’s sea breeze candle wafting throughout the room, the two of you begin watching a movie together.  

However, halfway through the movie, the plans begin to morph into something else entirely.

Armed with newly found confidence, your boyfriend begins kissing you, his hands making their way towards your hips.

The pace of your breathing picks up rather quickly when he suckles your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling against the swollen flesh.

“For my birthday- next year...” He whispers into your mouth, eyes fluttering open as he nudges your nose, “I want to kiss you all day.”

His request causes you to smile, your hands slowly sliding up his neck to tuck into the hair at the back of his head, “Whatever you want.”

Your response causes his eyes to sparkle with mischief once more, delighted at how willing you are to give him whatever he wants, “Oh- it’s whatever I want hm? Just like that?”

The way he’s speaking to you makes you a little light headed and rather than try to reign back his bout of authority, you decide to run with it, “Just like that.”

Your response is spoken into his mouth, the kiss between you breaking so he can maneuver you onto your back. For a moment, he braces his hands on either side of your head, his perfect body hovering over you, with only the long strands of his hair and the thin silver chains around his neck reaching for you.  

“What if-” He grins before grinding his hips against you, the swollen bit of his boxers rubbing against your clothed core, “I wanted to be in here all day? Would you let me?”

Through the waves of pleasure, your eyes squeeze shut for a moment before you nod, your fingers beginning to wander up the outsides of his forearms.

“Whatever you want...”

His grin is stable but the pace of his breathing is quickening, indicating his excitement.

He wants more out of this conversation though and decides to press you further.  

“Would you let me put my face down there all day too? You wouldn’t have to cook for me if you did...” He points out before his grin morphs into a smirk as he leans down towards your lips, “I’d get full off your pussy wouldn’t I?”

The switch in languages also indicates his level of arousal as his mentioned before that English is far more difficult when he’s wrapped up in his emotions or in this case, his desires.  

Using your nails, you lightly tickle your way up to shoulders tugging playfully to see if he’ll come to lay down on you fully but he doesn’t budge. He merely chuckles and grinds against you once again.

“Patience...” He parrots a phrase that you often utter to him when roles are reversed in the bedroom and the glimmer in his eyes informs you that he is eating up your reaction to him.

“But I want you...” You whine to him, hoping his thing for hearing you speak his language will be enough to break his resolve but he isn’t ready to give in just yet.

“That’s too bad jagiya, I’m not finish planning my birthday just yet.” Jungkook whines mockingly in return, the innocent curls framing his face contradicting his salacious demeanor, “I want to know how many marks you’d leave on me- maybeeeeee...” He draws out the word as his teeth tuck into his bottom lip, “25? One for every year of my birthday?”

Since attempting to tug him down didn’t work out, you decide to wrap your legs around his waist to further some sort of contact between you two.  

“Twenty five? Your stylists would kill me...” You point out giggling, pushing your now damp panties against the swell of his length beneath his boxers.  

Rather cockily, Jungkook snorts and leans down once again to brush his lips over yours, “I don’t give a fuck what the noonas say, they know how to cover me up and, even if they can’t- people are just gonna have to deal with it.” Another smirk forms on his mouth before he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, “it would be really hard for them if they fired me don’t you think?”

You gotta admit, his new found attitude is turning you on. It’s not like Jungkook to be so cocky, despite the way some people may think and although you know for a fact that he’s putting it on for you, you have no problem sucking it up anyway.  

“Definitely. BigHit would have hell to pay...” You concede, your words slightly muffled due to the current location of your bottom lip. Once more your hands tangle their way into his hair and you take advantage of this position to kiss him, hoping that will be enough to convince him to drop the teasing.  

He kisses you back with enthusiasm, his lower body relaxing slightly as more and more of him presses against you.  

“You’re wet.”  He whispers, his eyes still closed whilst he continues to peck at your bottom lip, “Are you ready for my dick now?”  

With his inquiry, he grinds against you once more, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine.  Your surprised that he spoke the second sentence in English as he usually would have switched fully to Korean at this point.  

“Namjoon’s really been rubbing off on you lately...”  

This insignificant comment lights a fire in Jungkook’s chest and prompts him to quickly pin your wrists above your head. His features hold a bit of disapproval but, mostly they hold that competitive look that is so uniquely Jungkook.  

That “I’m going to win just to show you how good I am” kind of look.

“Why does everyone assume that Namjoon is the most perverted huh? Just cause he talks about it the most? He writes a few dirty lyrics and talks about porn and suddenly he’s the only one who wants to fuck? Jagiya- do you want to know why I look so distracted all the time?” He giggles in an almost maniacal fashion, a dark smirk prominent on his lips as he cocks his head, “It’s because I’m usually thinking about fucking you. Everyone always thinks I’m so shy- so innocent, but you’d let them know huh jagi?  You’d let them know how fucking dirty I am wouldn’t you? I don’t think ARMY could handle it if they knew the truth...” Jungkook offers that same type of laughter once again before kissing you once more, “Now answer my question- are you ready for my dick now?”

His words and behavior stun you a little bit but mostly it just sends more arousal to your core and ruins your odds of putting these pair of panties back on when the two of you are done.  

“Yes sir...” You giggle, saluting him playfully as you wrap your legs around his waist again, “I’m so ready for you- please? Can I have it?”  

Your pleas work immediately on your boyfriend, who is already struggling with his level of arousal and before you know it, he is fucking both you of you into orgasmic bliss.  

It’s over too quickly but it’s the kind of fuck that you know it going to prompt a round two.

Or maybe even a round three or four if you’re lucky...

Jungkook’s head is on your chest now, his arms hugging you tightly to his body, his post-orgasmic glow riding him of any of his previously cocky attitude.  

“I like this.” He murmurs, licking his chapped lips and nuzzling between your breasts.

You smile fondly down at him, “Cuddling?”

He shakes his head, his eyes beginning to flutter shut, “Not just cuddling- but you, being here, at my house with me.”

With a kiss to his forehead, you use your free hand to brush his hair from his eyes, “I like being here with you too.”

There is a bit of color that finds it’s way to Jungkook’s cheeks as he utters a suggestion, “You should stay here with me. I will move my stuff around for you...”

It’s such a simple notion and yet it nearly moves you to tears but before you’re able to breach the topic further, his eyes fully close as he relaxes his weight completely.  

Without clarity regarding whether or not he can hear you, you utter your response into his hair,

“Sounds good, roomie.”

[jamesandthedog]

I think it’s still @blitheringmcgonagall ‘s birthday where she lives so happy birthday you vaguely shining light of my life! No present could express how glad I am to have you as a friend, but have a little bit of fast written and very unedited Jily:)

Stuffed in Sirius’ drawer

James remembered Lily’s voice and how her hand felt wrapped around his own. At least he thought it was her hand. He remembered seeing the familiar features of his best friend hovering high above him and he thought he had heard voices. He may have slept somewhere between those thoughts, he wasn’t sure. Everything felt a little groggy, dream-like, just like the pain he remembered vaguely in the back of his mind, or those white-clothed witches and wizards he thought he’d seen walk by.

When he really put his mind into it, he could remember fighting Death Eaters near Portobello Road, but now it all seemed fuzzy. It had been late evening, but it wasn’t dark anymore. Where was he?

“James, are you awake?”

There was the voice again, her voice. This was James’ favourite dream, the one were Lily talked to him. Sometimes it was just a voice, sometimes a touch or blurry outlines of her face disappearing before he could quite see them. Though now something in this drowsy state of mind felt different, as if she was closer.

When James tried really hard, he could imagine Lily was holding his hand with both of hers, sitting beside a hospital bed. The image was shattering, there was too much light and he thought she looked tired, worried.

“Great. We’ve wanted him to shut up for years and this is when he decides to listen.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Lily said and it came out almost as a cry.

“He’s going to be alright,” said a third voice, more soothing.

Remus, James realised.

This dream felt more real than the ones before.

“Stop pissing her off, Padfoot,” James muttered.

He heard Sirius laugh. Maybe he heard Lily whisper a Muggle prayer.

It took James some time to open his eyes and realise that Lily really was there. He couldn’t see her properly, he didn’t have his glasses on, but she was there, smiling, her lips kissing his fingers. Then he saw Remus, one hand on Lily’s shoulder as if he’d been massaging her shoulder to calm her down. Sirius was on the other side of the bed, leaning on the window frame, looking like he hadn’t had a shower in days.

“Should’ve known you’d come back from death just to defend Lily,” Sirius said.

James smiled.

“How are you?” Lily asked, placing his glasses on his face and kissing his forehead.

James thought about it. He felt a little sore, not much.

“You’re in St Mungo’s. You’ve been passed out for three days,” Remus added as Sirius walked on the edge of the bed.

That explained the bandages. Three days? Had they given him a sleeping potion? Shit. He moved a little and his whole body ached, making him grimace. Shit.

“Never better,” he smiled.

Lily took a long, shaky breath. James looked at her, and now that he was able to see her clearly, he could see she was upset. She had tears in her eyes. It felt was worse than the actual aching in his chest. James squeezed her hand that was still holding his.

“Good. You really scared Lily,” Sirius grinned.

“Scared me?” Lily scoffed. “You were the one considering going back to your parent’s house to do research on dark magic in case we needed to bring James back from the death!”

“I’d say it’s fair to say you scared all of us,” Remus concluded. “If Peter wasn’t on Order duty, he’d be here to worry over you too.”

James looked at them. He could see the worry boiling in Lily, and he knew Sirius could act calm but the idea of losing any one of his friends got to him. Remus was probably the most sensible one when it came to death, he’d given the idea some thought a long before the war started. He’d probably been the one to guide the others through the past three days, and James didn’t think he could even thank Remus enough for doing so.

“So… You all got out of there unharmed? What happened?” James asked.

Lily bit her lip. She didn’t look at him.

“Snivellus hit you with that curse. Remember the one that cut you at school?” Sirius said, anger in his voice. “Only he’s gotten better at it because it wasn’t just a cut of two, you were bleeding all over. And you know how Bella gets, I couldn’t get to you past her and fucking Snape.”

Lily looked down at their hands and took a long breath collecting herself. James hated putting her through this. Whatever Snape did wasn’t her fault. James squeezed her hand.

“I managed to disparate you, but that was after Snape had thrown a Crusiatus at you,” Lily said quietly. “It took ages for the heelers to stop the bleeding.”

“Your girlfriend hasn’t left the hospital since. And neither has Padfoot,” Remus concluded.

James took a breath and nodded. That explained why he felt his whole body ache. James remembered some of it now. Battling against Snape, the man had sought him out like he always did when he couldn’t see Lily around.

“Thanks. For getting me out of there and, everything,” James said, looking at each of them.

“Thanks for not dying,” Sirius shrugged.

“Me, shutting up for live?” James asked remembering the first words he’d heard Sirius speak. “No way I’d give you the pleasure.”

“I’d hit you if you weren’t looking so crappy already, you know?” Sirius grinned.

“Can I… Can we have a moment?” Lily asked, looking at the two boys.

Remus nodded. “Yeah. I’ll take Sirius home so you can talk. That mutt needs a bath anyway.”

They left, and James was left with Lily. Now that the others were gone she had hard time keeping her eyes dry.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay,” James said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her palm. “Are you okay?”

A sob escaped her lips, but she nodded, pressing her lips together.

“If you ever – EVER – scare me like that again I swear I-“ Lily started.

“Showcase your Muggle swearwords?” James raised a brow as he interrupted her. He loved listening her swear the Muggle way with all her Gods and Christs.

“Don’t start joking mister couldn’t-wake-up-for-three-days,” Lily snapped, but he knew she was relieved to hear him being back to his joking self. “Besides you told me you’d always win him in a battle!”

He had sworn that not too long ago, when Lily had witnessed Snape seeking James out in a battle two times in a row. It had happened earlier too, and James had a feeling Snape only did it when he thought Lily wasn’t around. But she had caught up to it, so James was forced to talk to her about it. He didn’t want her to worry, and honestly he was better at combat, so he had told her she didn’t need to worry about it.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, apologetically.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, I need you to stay alive, you idiot!”

She was sobbing now through the anger and yelling. James tried to sit up, but it was too fast and hurt his chest where Snape’s first curse had hit him. Lily stood up to stop him, but he got up sitting anyway, this time slowly. He pulled Lily closer by the hand until he could hug her. It wasn’t a full hug, not the type of warmth and comfort he was able to give when his chest wasn’t covered in wounds.

Lily cried, her tears wetting the skin on James’ neck as his fingertips draw calming patterns on her back.

“I am alive. I’m not going anywhere,” he hushed, pressing a kiss into her neck.

“You better not,” Lily said. “I’m pregnant.”

James’s fingers stopped petting her back. He let the air escape his lungs and pulled back just enough to see her face, it still hurt but it was the fastest thing on his mind.

“You what?” He asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“You heard me, Potter,” she said with defiance in her voice.

James snorted at it and glanced somewhere above just to take time to comprehend it. It was definitely not something they had been planning. They had been careful. Except maybe… Well, they may have not always waited quite as long as they should have after Lily took the potion preventing this sorts of thing from happening.

“And I’m keeping it so you better not die on us,” Lily added when James looked at her again.

It was a war and bringing a child into that certainly didn’t seem like a responsible thing to do. But when he looked at Lily, he knew what he had known for years. He wanted her. The chaos of war had only made him more certain of it. He hadn’t dare to dream of live after war for quite some time, but there had always been that distant idea of creating a family with her. Their little life together.

James nodded, giving her a smile. “Can you send an owl to Pads?”

Lily raised her eyebrows.

“You really want to write Sirius a letter right now?”

“I need him to bring me something,” James smiled.

“I tell you I’m pregnant and the only comment I get is your need to write to Sirius?”, she asked.

James rolled his eyes and kissed her softly.

“Fine,” he gave up on the letter and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “But if this is going to be very lame because I can’t even get off the bed, you’re the one to blame.”

“James? That makes literally no sense,” Lily frowned. “Are you alright? I’m going to call a heeler.”

James laughed and kissed her again before she had time to move away from him.

“No,” he shook his head and kissed her once more, slowly, bringing his hand in her neck. “I just mean, I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. And I can’t promise you I won’t ever die. But I swear I’ll do anything to keep us all safe. I can’t get on one knee-“

“James what-“

“And the ring is stuffed in Sirius’ drawer –“

“James-“

“I fucking love you, Evans-“

“Oh my god.”

“I love your laughter. I love your fierceness. I love your wit. I love how big heart you have. I loved to wake up to your voice today. I love everything about you, even the things that annoy me. And I’m not saying this just because you’re pregnant. Will marry me, Evans?”

There were tears in Lily’s eyes again. His hands had moved to cup her face as he’d spoken and she was holding onto his wrists. He tried to read her expression but he was too nervous to catch her thoughts just by reading her.

“You have a ring stuffed in Sirius’ drawer?” She asked.

“He said I should commit to a ring at least for three months before chaining myself for life.”

“How long has it been there?”

“Around two months.”

Lily nodded. “He’s going to be pissed.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“You’re really going to marry me, Evans?”

“I’m really going to marry you, Potter,” she laughed, and pulled him gently closer, pressing her lips on his.

In that moment James was sure no death eater, not even Voldemort could stop them from winning the war. He had simply too much to live for. So he kissed her back, and felt nothing but utter joy until twenty minutes later when the tiredness took over his aching body and he fell asleep smiling.

[jihyuncompass]

This Year

Happy Birthday Jihyun! It’s hard to believe this is my second year in a row writing a birthday fic for you. But of course it’s deserved. Even as time passes and I don’t have the time to play Mysme much anymore that has never changed the fondness I feel for you dear Jihyun. Happy Birthday <3

Jihyun Kim (V) x MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: N/A 

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V hiked up towards the top of the mountain. Looking up he could see the peak not too far into the distance. Not wanting to stop just yet he kept pushing ahead, he was so close to the top. Taking heavy breaths he quickened his pace, his heart beating heavy in his chest as he got closer. 

Chest heaving he looked down and over the summit, he stood just above the low hanging clouds, still he could look down and take in the rolling green hills below, the trees that up close would be towering but from this height looked like toys. The scenery seemed to go on forever and ever. Around him was no noise beyond the sound of leaves in the breeze and birds flying nearby and his own heavy breaths. However, beyond that, there was no people, no cars, nothing but himself and nature. 

He let his backpack fall to the ground beside him as he slipped the straps off of his shoulders. V remained standing for another minute to fully admire the scene in front of him catching his breath taken from him on the way up. 

Finding a good spot V sat down on the ground. He stayed silent as he looked up towards the blue sky. Perfectly blue and warm even as the summer started to fade into autumn, for now though summer remained. As did the sun as it warmed his face. 

Unzipping his hiking backpack he reached for the small bundle he’d packed away in there earlier, setting it down on the ground in front of him. Closing up his backpack he pushed it to the side just slightly then turned his attention to the bundle in front of him. 

V separated the small containers from one another. He couldn’t pack much for this hike but he’d managed to include a small meal to eat at the summit of the mountain. V smiled only to himself as he took the lids off. He settled with his back against one of the trees, looking at the scenergy he dug into his lunch.

He took his time with his meal, wanting to savor every taste and every sight in front of him. Tomorrow he’d get on a plane to his next destination, last week he’d booked a ticket to a different place. Somewhere new for him to explore and enjoy, and for all he knew he wasn’t ever going to return to this place, so he would take in as much as he possibly could. Committing every part of this to his memory. 

The final part of his meal was left in front of him, clearing the rest of the containers he took a moment before opening the last one. He sighed softly at the small slice of cake he’d gotten from a small bakery that morning. He’d spent almost ten minutes trying to decide which slice of cake he wanted to get. Eventually he’d settled on a slice of champagne flavored cake with vanilla frosting. 

Sitting alone on the top of the mountain V quietly sang to himself, at the end pretending to blow out the invisible candle he’d imagined on top. Making his wish for this year, a much different wish than he’d asked for in the years before. 

As a child birthdays always meant large lavish parties hosted by his father. Always lacking children V’s age. Usually the parties his father hosted for his birthday were attended by their extended family and his father’s friends. Some of them brought their own children along, but they either were much younger, or much older than him. So besides Jumin his birthdays were most often spent in a stuffy suit chatting with adults about school and his future plans. 

He’d never enjoyed these parties, always so formal and more of a party for the adults than the child at the center of it, and every year he’d made the same wish. To be a son his father would be proud of.  

Those parties stopped after the fire. Jihyun wasn’t interested in formal business birthdays. He wasn’t interested in his father’s friends or his world. Instead his birthdays were spent with Jumin or Rika. Going on vacations, drinking wine, enjoying peaceful quiet affairs to celebrate a new year of his life. Back then his birthday wishes had been much different, he’d wished for  Rika’s happiness, or for his own success.  He had been fine with that, enjoyed it even. However, that was the past now, a past that felt a million years old.

That year sitting on that mountain he made a brand new wish. This year, he wanted to be happy, and he wanted to be ready to go home. 

Jihyun could recall that hike in great detail, the way the breeze ran through his hair, the sprawling trees on the way down the mountain, the formations of fluffy clouds, all of it stayed in his mind even after a year had passed. 

Like that day a year ago Jihyun felt the warmth of the sun on his face. His eyes fluttered open to face his bedroom window. The sun was already high in the morning sky and bringing warmth throughout the whole room. Laying still he enjoyed the warmth of the blankets around him and the brightness of the sun on his face. 

After laying like that for longer than he could count he sat up in bed. Stretching his arms over his head with a deep exhale. Next to him the other side of the bed was empty. The covers had been pushed aside but already cold. 

Leaving the bedroom Jihyun glanced into the living room. They must have woken up a while ago, he couldn’t hear the shower running or cooking in the kitchen like he would have expected after waking up in the late morning. 

He stood in the middle of the living room, looking for evidence of where his beloved had gone off too. The keys weren’t in the usual spot by the door, they must have gone out somewhere then. 

Feeling the mystery solved Jihyun sat on the couch against the living room wall. His eyes landed on some of the framed photos on the wall. Some were prints from his former photography career, but most were photos from the last few months of his life. Photos with the members of the RFA, of his beloved, of him. Each one a snapshot of warm memories in his mind. Even the old ones from when he was V, those photos still managed to bring warmth to Jihyun’s heart. 

The click of the lock on the front door brought Jihyun out of his thoughts. Not wasting a second Jihyun rose from his seat and walked through the apartment to meet them. 

His heart swelled at the sight of his beloved, he smiled warmly as they met his eyes with a matching smile. They balanced a couple bags and box in their arms as they entered the apartment. Without a word Jihyun took the box and one of the bags from their arm to lighten the load. 

“Good morning love.” Jihyun said, leaning forward to kiss his lover hello. 

“Good morning Jihyun.” They whispered. “Happy birthday.” A larger smile grew on Jihyun’s lips. 

“I woke up and you were already gone.” Jihyun said, stepping back to make his way to the kitchen. They followed behind him, shaking off their shoes in the process. 

“I thought I could sneak out and get back before you woke up.” They said, “I figured since you and Jumin were up late together you’d sleep in longer.” They put the rest of the bags down next to the others. As they spoke they placed the items in the bags in their proper places in the fridge or cupboards. 

Jihyun worked next to them doing the same process of putting the groceries away. “What are all of these for?” He asked. 

“They’re for dinner tonight love.” They answered. “I figured since it’s just going to be the two of us tonight I should make a nice dinner for your birthday.” MC lifted the one box to put it next to the new groceries in the fridge. “And this is your birthday cake. Which you’re not allowed to look at yet.” They pointed at Jihyun with a teasing smile. “So no peeking okay?” 

Jihyun nodded with a flair of drama. “I would never.” 

“Oh really?” 

“I wouldn’t!” Jihyun insisted. 

“Sure.” MC laughed. “But I mean it, don’t peek until after dinner.” MC closed the fridge door. 

“I promise.” Jihyun said with a sweet seriousness. “I’m looking forward to tonight.” Jihyun put an arm around their waist to bring them closer. Jihyun held them close. A year ago he could have only dreamed of getting to have this. Getting to hold them close, see them like this. Just be near them and able to say whatever it is that’s on his mind. 

He must have been staring at them for a long time without saying anything because their expression changed. “Jihyun? What are you thinking about?” 

Jihyun pulled them closer to kiss them, hardly able to contain the smile on his face as he did. Their hand travelled up to rest on his shoulder to keep him this close. 

“I’m sorry.” Jihyun whispered when he eventually pulled away. “I just feel really happy.” He said. MC pulled him back in to kiss him again. They held each other close, both smiling in between kisses. 

At that moment Jihyun knew what his birthday wish would be this year. For the first time in his life he wished for exactly what he had at this moment. He didn’t wish for anyone but himself, and he didn’t wish for some miracle. All he wanted was this. A million more moments just like this.

[ladyeliot]

It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense.  That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it. 

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing. 

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided. 

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope. 

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[me4gumi-moved]

I’m Not Angry Anymore

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Yagi Toshinori x Daughter!Reader

Warning(s): Shitty Parenting, Angst, Some Strong Language, (Kinda) Child Abandonment

Song: Interlude: I’m Not Angry Anymore by Paramore

Note: This is a counterpart to @kozumeizuku ‘s Twisted

“(Y/N), I’d like for you to meet Midoriya Izuku.” Your father gestured to a 4 year old with freckles and curly green hair. He looked nervous. You walked up to him with a big toothy grin on your face and held your hand out to him,

“Hi, ‘Zuku! I’m (Y/N)!” Your smile didn’t waver as you saw him creep back a little bit.

Your dad pat your head, “Midoriya here is a little shy. His classmates are not very nice to him because he’s quirkless.” You nodded your head in understanding, releasing a small “oh.”

You took a step back from the boy, “I’m sorry your classmates are meanies, Zuku. I like you, though, so don’t listen to them!”

That’s when it all started, you remember. You started to see your dad less and less after you met Midoriya Izuku. At the time, you didn’t understand why, but as you got older it became clear. The blond adult was spending time with Midoriya, training him and being a father figure to him. He used to do that with you, but you’d been replaced. 12 years later and now the two of you were strangers.

You ran up to your father when he got inside the house, a drawing in your hands. You’d drawn him and you wanted to surprise him with it. “Daddy, look!” You hadn’t even pulled the picture out from behind your back when he stopped you. 

“I’m sorry, baby, but I’m about to head back out. I’ll look at it later, okay?” He ruffled your (h/c) hair and gave you one of his big smiles. You nodded sadly. You’d really wanted to show it to him right then. You whispered a soft “okay” before turning around and going to the kitchen. Normally you weren’t allowed in there and you had to ask your live-in nanny or your father to get you what you wanted but you didn’t feel like asking.

You put your drawing on top of the table used for prepping food and walked up to the fridge. That’s where you saw it -- a crude drawing of your father signed “Izuku”. In a flash of anger you grabbed your own drawing and ripped it up into tiny pieces. “(Y/N), (Y/N)! What wrong, sweetheart?” Your nanny, Saki, walked in on you in the middle of your tantrum. You wailed and held your arms out to her and she scooped you up into her comforting arms. She looked down at your ruined drawing and at the one on the fridge. Oh, she would be having a word with your father when she saw him next.

11 years had passed and you still remembered that moment. If you remembered correctly, that was the last time you’d drawn him something.

“Oh, darling, I’m sure he’s just running a little late.” “He must be stuck in traffic.” “Don’t you worry your sweet little head, he’ll be here.” “You know what your daddy says, don’t you? I am here! And he will be, alright?”

That’d been hours ago. The cooks, the maid, the butler, the nanny -- they’d all assured you that your father would make good on his promise. He’d promised to spend the day with you -- to go see a movie and get lunch. That was at 10:00 AM, it was now 6:00 PM.

You sat at the table in the kitchen, lazily moving the spoon in your chicken noodle soup around. It’d long since gotten cold. “Would you like me to heat it back up for you, little lady?” One of the cooks asked you. Mr. Yuji was nice -- he always slipped you snacks while the others weren’t looking. He’d been here since before you were born. He was wrinkly and his hair had thinned out with age. He was like a grandpa to you. “Or do you want something else?”

You pushed the bowl over to him, “No...‘m not really hungry.” You folded your arms on the table and rested the side of your head on them. Mr. Yuji put a hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“Your temperature seems normal. Are you sure you’re not hungry, missy?” He smoothed back your hair. You nodded silently. You were tired, sad, and disappointed. It ruined your appetite. He took the bowl off the table and poured its contents out into the sink, “Alright, well if you get hungry in the middle of the night, let me know. I’ll make you something.”

“M’kay.”

The swinging door to the kitchen opened but you didn’t bother to look at who it was. You recognized your father’s heavy footsteps, “Hey, baby. What are you...doing?” Before he could finish speaking, you hopped down from the bar stool, walked around him, and left the kitchen. As you walked away, you could hear him ask Mr. Yuji something. “Is she okay?”

You think that was when you’d stopped asking to spend time with your father. 7 years had passed and you could still feel the emotions your 11 year old self had gone through that day.

Your fists were clenched, your face towards the ceiling, and your lips pressed into a thin line. You were fighting back tears. You were tired. You were tired of this. You were tired of broken promises. You were tired of being second best. It was your 16th birthday, and your father missed it because of him. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” Your father had the nerve to ask. You clenched your jaw.

“What’s wrong?” You copied. “What’s wrong?!” You looked at him, the hot tears already running at a steady pace down your cheeks. “What’s wrong is that you missed my fucking birthday! Again! That’s 10 years in a fucking row!” You snarled. You didn’t care if you were acting like a spoiled brat.

He stood there in shock. You wiped your tears on your forearm, “What I want to know is why -- why didn’t you show up like you promised?” You had given up on him. All you wanted was a reason why. You already knew but you wanted him to say it.

“It’s Young Midoriya’s--” You cut him off with a laugh. A completely and utterly, joyless laugh.

“Just as I thought.” You scoffed. You pulled out a chair from the dining room table and plopped down on it. You were exhausted and numb, “Midoriya this, Midoriya that. It’s always about Midoriya.” You wondered if your father even knew what he was doing to you. He probably didn’t, he was so oblivious when it came to his own child.

Your father -- the oh so wonderful All Might -- walked up and took the seat next to you. “That’s not true and you know it, (Y/N).”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You turned in your seat to face him. “Tell me, Dad, when was the last time we spent my birthday together?”

“Well, um--” He stuttered.

“Last meal we had together? Last time you showed up to one of my award ceremonies? Last time we spent time together? Last time we had a real conversation?” You asked question after question, knowing he wouldn’t have the answer to any of them.

“(Y/N), that’s not fair--” “I’m not trying to be!”

Silence.

“When was the last time you told me you loved me?” Your voice cracked. The blond didn’t say a word. You sighed and stood up from your seat, “I’m moving out tomorrow. Don’t try to stop me -- I’ve already made up my mind.”

That was 2 years ago and you hadn’t talked with your father since. 

A knock came at your door. It must’ve been one of your classmates asking for your notes again. You got up from your desk and opened the door without a second thought. “I’m not giving you my...notes. Oh, it’s you.” Standing in front of you was your father’s successor — Midoriya Izuku. You hadn’t seen much of him since your childhood.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Can...can I come in?” You stepped aside and held the door open for him. He awkwardly stepped past you and stood around the middle of your room. “Your room. It’s nice.” Izuku complimented.

“It’s alright, I guess.” You shrugged. You had a platform bed with lots of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals on it. A bean bag chair sat next to it. Your walls were white but there were so many posters and pictures on them you could barely see the paint anyways. Fairy lights were strung up around the room and LED clouds were hanging from your ceiling. There was a bookcase filled with, well, books. Next it was your desk — it was normal but there were knick knacks, notebooks, and too many pens spread across it.

“No, no — it’s really cool. It’s a lot more cool than my room.” He assured you. You hummed. You didn’t really need to guess what his dorm room was like.

You put your hand on your hip, “Let me guess, yours is covered top to bottom, wall to wall in my dad’s merchandise. Is that right?” A blush erupted on the younger teens face. You’d hit the nail right on the head. You laughed and clapped his shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. You really admire him, don’t you?” You smiled.

He was nervous, you could tell. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looked away from you.

“Alright, have a seat. There’s obviously something you want to talk to me about.” You plopped down on the bean bag chair next to your bed.

Izuku sat down at your desk. “I wanted to talk to you about All Might.” He stated. You hummed and nodded your head — as to be expected.

“I honestly don’t know much about him, Izuku.” You told the truth. “He’s never really been around much for me.” Izuku cringed at your statement.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about with you.” He ruffled his own hair.

“If you’re about to apologize, don’t.”

“What?” Izuku’s green eyes met your (e/c) ones for the first time since he’s been here. “I-I don’t understand. I’m the reason he-“

“I’m going to stop you right there, Izuku.” You shift around in your bean bag. “Everything he did, was in no way your fault. They were his choices to make and he chose you over me, time and time again.” You said bluntly. “But that wasn’t your fault. Sure, for a time I did resent you but as I got older, I came to realize you had no say in how he treated me. You were just a kid and so was I. I know how much you admire him but it’s the truth when I say he’s the one at fault here. You don’t have to apologize for his actions.” You got up and walked up to him. You ruffled his hair, “I never once blamed you, Midoriya Izuku.”

Tears welled up in the curly haired teen’s virus in eyes but he quickly started to rub them away. “Geez, you’ve always been such a crybaby. I thought you would’ve grown out of that already.” You jokingly pushed his head. You’d always thought of him as a younger brother, even when you hated his guts as a child.

“Sorry, I just…” He sniffled. “I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” You wish you’d known he was carrying all this guilt sooner — you could’ve already relieved him of the burden.

“It’s alright. I understand.”

That was a few months ago. Talking with Izuku like that, it really did help you understand why your relationship with All Might is the way it is.

“Have you talked with your father recently?” Your therapist asked after you finished recounting your childhood with her. She’d needed an updated version now that you were 18.

You shook your head, “No, but he did leave me a voicemail the other day — he asked how I was doing, talked about how he was proud of my grades, told me to make sure I eat and drink enough water.” You appreciated that he was trying, but you weren’t ready to make amends with him.

“Did you call him back?”

“No. I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him just yet. Only recently had I accepted what he’d done.” You explained to her.

She nodded, “That’s alright. It’s all a part of the process. You’ll be ready eventually, and when you do, you’ll be one step closer to leave this all behind you.” You hummed your agreement.

“Have you seen or heard anything from your brother recently?”

“You sound just like the police.” You laughed.

[joshuas]

kabedon !

♫ pairing: lee felix x gender neutral reader

♫ genre: fluff, crack, and established relationship au

♫ warnings: nil of note !

♫ word count: 1.2k

♫ prompt: “If you need an emergency extraction just text SOS and I’ll send armed backup” from this prompt list !

♫ a/n: a very very belated birthday present for @potato2earth ! sorry for the delay !!

♫ summary: after years of defeating felix at laser tag, you were convinced that you would win again this year. however, what you underestimated was his ✨power of seduction✨, taking a note from the bad boys of anime and manga

♫ taglist: @potato2earth @jadezircon @mostlikelynotmelissa @geniejunn - send an ask if you’d like to be on the tag list !

"We dibs Y/N to be on our team!" Jisung pulled your arm, leading you over to his side of the room. Jeongin and Hyunjin high-fiving you as you joined them.

"Not fair, we wanted Y/N!" Your boyfriend, Felix, pouted.

“All is fair in love and war.” Hyunjin retorted, standing protectively in front of you.

“I don’t know why you guys think I’m such a valuable asset. I literally suck at laser tag.” You noted, peeking from behind Hyunjin.

“Y/N, you’re our ace. You basically win every video game we play. This shouldn’t be any different.” Jeongin noted.

“Uhh... yes it is? Highly different?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Alright guys, enough chitchat. They’ve just called us in to suit up and enter the room.” Chan clapped his hands, directing your attention to him, leading you to the game.

It had been a while since you had gone laser tagging. Well… a year but it was enough to make you feel rusty. Not rusty enough to doubt your abilities in defeating Felix, though. Felix and you had first met at a laser tag game around two years ago, and since then, the two of you had made it a tradition to go laser tagging. However, every time you went, you would always find some way to eliminate him, making him vow every time to defeat you... even if you were on the same team. To say you were worried that he would find some weird, obscure way to defeat you would be an understatement, but your undying faith in him failing was still strong. After all, he was yet to defeat you.

“Y/N! Stop standing there and come hide behind the barracks with us.” Jisung called out, snapping you out of your reverie.

Hyunjin elbowed him, whispering harshly, “Why would you yell that? Now the other team know our location!”

"Well it's not like Y/N was paying any attention to our whispers"?Jisung noted, looking pointedly at you.

“Guys, stop arguing. Hyunjin, I know you’re tempted to attempt friendly fire and shoot Jisung, but please refrain from that if you want any chance of winning. Jisung, find a new place to hide and we’ll follow.” You sighed, whispering your delegation.

“Adding onto that, we should probably talk strategy before we head out.” Hyunjin noted, beckoning Jeongin over to your now makeshift team huddle,

“Alright team, all of you will be assigned a person on the opposing team. Your job is to... not get killed? I’ll take Minho hyung, Jisung, you take Changbin hyung, Jeongin, you’ve got Seungmin and Y/N, your target is Felix. Since Chan hyung is just super athletic and impossible to beat in anything, whoever is still alive will take him.” Hyunjin delegated.

Placing your hands in, as you were about to chant your team name, you heard a very loud someone (cough cough, Felix) yell,

“If you need an emergency extraction just text SOS and I’ll send armed backup from base!”

“Wow, he’s taking his role as team leader seriously,” Jisung noted.

“I can’t believe Chan let him lead their team. You know how set he is to just defeat me.” You questioned.

“Well— not trying to be on the attack or anything... but you’re kinda only doing this to defeat Felix as well..” Jeongin rubbed his neck.

“Touché. But, it’d be even better if we win, so let’s do that!” You cheered, the others echoing you.

“Before you go, Jeongin, Jisung— I need to talk to you about... uh... your technique? Y/N, you’re perfect so you can just get into position.” Hyunjin dismissed you, shooing you away.

You looked at him oddly before walking away.

Okay...

You resolved yourself as you pressed your back against your hiding place, you carefully peeked out at the opposite side around the corner and watched as you saw the lights on the opposing team’s guns glint under the UV lighting,

Lee Felix, prepare for my victory for the third year in a row.

You ran triumphantly past Chan as he walked out of the game, hands up in defeat as his suit powered off from your shot. After the rest of your team had been eliminated almost instantly (including Hyunjin who fell on the floor dramatically after being shot by a cackling Minho, only to be dragged away by a sighing Jeongin) you had taken the lead in eliminating your opponents. Your impending victory was easy... almost too easy. However, there was still one person left to defeat — Felix.

You let out a heavy sigh, quickly clapping your mouth upon realisation of your mistake.

Stupid... you wanted to win, Y/N.

“Tired already?” A voice drawled out from behind you. You whipped around to see your boyfriend approaching you, his hands wrapped around the laser gun strapped to his chest.

“More like tired of your incompetence. It’s taken you this long to find me.” You retorted, crossing your arms.

As he approached you, you stepped back, further and further until your back was pressed against the wall, his arm above your head.

“I— w-why are you pretending to be some anime bad boy boyfriend or something?” You stuttered.

His gaze on you faltered for a second as he tried to prevent himself from laughing, with his other hand he tilted your chin up, leaning towards you, not long before brushing his lips over yours just briefly, leaving you shocked.

He smirked at your reaction, quickly pulling away as you grabbed his arm.

The next events happened in a blur. As soon as he had wrenched himself out of your grip, he had grabbed the laser gun strapped to his chest, quickly shooting you with a flash of light, before cackling as he ran away yelling incoherent victorious celebrations.

Reeling out of your from? shock you ran after Felix,

“Hey! You can’t just use my love for you like that. You know I’m weak for kabedon!”

“To quote Hyunjin, ‘all is fair in love and war.’”

“Just wait til we get home—“

“What was that? I love you, Y/N.”

“Ugh. I’m so going to beat you next year!”

[thenovelartist]

Game Over: Be Mine

Happy (late) Birthday to my friend @galaxyofconstellations​

“I swear, Adrien, you frickin’ blue shell me, I am going to kick you out of my house right now.”

The young man sitting beside her just laughed. “It’s not like I have the option of who to blue shell, though.”

“You have the option to not blue shell me in the first place.”

“Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

“Adrien Agreste,” Marinette growled.

He shot her a smug grin. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette huffed. To say this was out of the ordinary for her to sass a supermodel would be a lie. She’d met the man beside her a couple years ago when her best friend happened to start going out with his best friend. And then game nights between the four of them began to transpire every once in a while. And then once a month. And now about once week. However, there were times Alya and Nino, due to their schedules, wanted to ditch game nights so they could actually have a date night that week.

Just as they had done tonight.

And that was all right by Marinette and Adrien. Because they had become plenty close over the past couple years and had learned to enjoy solo game nights without the lovey-dovey couple getting all lovey-dovey on them.

“I am not kidding.” Marinette warned.

“I’d love to see you try.”

“To kick you out?”

“Yeah.”

“I will.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’m not. I’ve seen you lift flour bags. I know full well what you’re capable of.”

“Therefore, you know better than to use that blue shell on me.”

Marinette snuck a glance at Adrien, who was wearing a smile that she Did. Not. Like. It was that smile that always meant trouble yet caused her heart to flutter. It was not fair that he looked extra attractive wearing that grin. Being a fashion designer, she’d seen her fair share of models. She hardly cared for them beyond being able to display her creations. Attractive men who constantly made passes at her while she fitted them with clothes were a dime a dozen.

However, the model next to her with his tongue slightly sticking out while his brows furrowed deeply in concentration could not be so easily tossed under that blanket statement, even if he had jokingly made passes at her while she tailored his outfits. Honestly, she found herself wishing more often than not that he’d meant them despite knowing he hadn’t.

“Well…” he said, shooting her a quick wink before turning back to the screen, “knowing and doing are two different things.”

“Adrien Agreste.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“About pressing this button?”

“Yes.”

He moved his finger.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops.”

“Screw you!”

Marinette watched as the blue shell flew through the course and struck her, causing her cart to explode right before the finish line. Before her cart could even fully recover, she watched as Adrien’s cart zipped past her across the finish line.

“Winner!” he shouted, tossing his hands in the air while wearing a beaming smile.

“You mangy—”

“Hey hey, be nice.”

“Nice?!”

“Yeah.” He shot her a smile that did not under any circumstances cause the butterflies in her stomach to swirl. “It’s not becoming to be a sore loser.”

Marinette sputtered. “It is when you’re a cheater!”

“How’d I cheat? I merely used what the game gave me.”

“You strategically planned to screw me over.”

“But but but…” he began with a pout. “That’s kinda the point of Mario Cart.”

She let loose a growl before turning away from him. “Honestly, you’re such a piece of work.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

The words were said in jest. Marinette knew this. Her heart could not take it in jest. Not when she had developed a healthy crush on the man who was now behind her.

“Mari?”

Adrien’s concerned voice floated towards her, and her anger was already fading. She couldn’t stay mad at him, even if he did win this game five times in a row. She wasn’t a sore loser, but she also knew she was better than this.

“Maaaaariiiiii.”

His voice now resonated right by her ear. She could feel the couch cushion sink under his weight as he crawled across the couch to now be right behind her.

“Get lost. I’m sulking,” she snarked, turning her face away from him in hopes to hide the smile growing on her face.

“Oh, are we now?”

“We are,” she resolutely returned.

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and Marinette felt the cushion under her return to normal as Adrein shifted off the couch entirely.

“Well,” Adrien said, rounding the arm rest to place himself right before her. She had to cover her mouth in hopes of hiding her grin just a little while longer. “I do know one way to get you to stop sulking.”

Marinette froze for a second, hand falling away from her face—her smile was long gone now—as she looked towards Adrien.

He was grinning.

She began panicking.

“You wouldn’t.”

His smile only grew in responce.

He would.

In a flash, Marinette spun around, planning to bolt off the couch and out of his reach.

Unfortunately, she was not fast enough to escape. And she squealed as he began his attack.

His tickle attack, that is.

“Adrien!” she shrieked, collapsing onto the couch in a fit of laughter. She tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He had crawled over the arm of the couch and was now hovering over her. “Stop.”

“Never!” he cried, wrapping his arms fully around her to hold her close as his assault on her sides continued.

Marinette let out another shriek, laughing so hard tears were forming in her eyes as she tried to wiggle her way out of Adrien’s grasp. He was now laughing along with her as he pinned her fully beneath him to the couch, his arms around her waist that held her tightly enough to continue tickling her sides. “Give up,” he cried, giggling all the while.

“I give!” Marinette screamed, still laughing as her back arched and hands pushed against his shoulders in an unfortunately futile attempt to escape his grasp. “I give! I surrender! Please.”

He held his hands still, though his fingers still lingered on her exposed skin right between her pants and where her shirt had ridden up on her hips. He propped himself up best he could and pulled her back towards him, close enough for his face to hover right above hers. “No more pouty Mari!”

“Yes, yes! Okay. You win. Stop!”

With that, he fully halted his attack, allowing Marinette a moment to breathe. Wide smile still lingering on her face, she let her eyes shut as she took heaving gulps of air that she wasn’t able to get during her tickle-induced laughing attack.

Faintly, she became aware of Adrien also breathing heavily, a short chuckle escaping him here and there. “Hey.”

She opened her eyes, only to come face to face with Adrien. “What?”

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?”

With a heavy sigh, she let her eyes drift closed for a moment before shaking her head. “No. No more than usual.”

“Good,” he huffed, clearly relieved.

While the two were coming down from their giggle fit high, Marinette became increasingly aware of their very precarious position. At the moment, she was pinned to the couch, a fact she had already been aware of, but not to this extent. Adrien’s face was barely hovering above hers, looking every bit as handsome as he possibly could be while he laid on top of her, their legs intertwined and his arms fencing her in.

She felt all her blood rush to her cheeks that moment. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be able to have this affect on her. He was a model like any one of the dozens she was frequently surrounded with.

But he was also her friend. And a huge dork. And great at video games. And skilled both in the art of cheering her up and melting her heart. And and and…

And it just wasn’t fair how badly she’d fallen for him. Or how badly she wanted to kiss him right now.

“Adrien.”

“Hmm?”

“What… what if…”

She bit her lip. Just what did she think she was doing right now?

“What if I told you you did go overboard? What would you be willing to do to pay me back for it?”

He paused, distress slowly beginning to shadow his pretty features. “Anything.”

“Anything?”

“I have Nino, who’s my best bro. But beyond that, the person I’m closest to… is you,” he quietly admitted. “I’d do whatever it took to make it up to you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Her heart was racing as she looked at the handsome man before her, the one she’d come to care for deeply and sincerely. She knew better than to take advantage of this situation. She knew better than to be manipulative like this. And yet, as Marinette looked at him, she also wasn’t sure she cared. “Then, close your eyes.”

Without hesitating, he did just that.

It wasn’t lost on Marinette the amount of trust he put into her. He was the kind that asked “how high” when asked to jump, but only for a select few people. Everyone else could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared.

It made her realize once again just how precious that trust in her was.

Which made her rethink what she was about to do.

Ultimately, she shoved doubt aside as she raised her hands to cradle his cheeks, and he sucked in a sharp breath at her touch. They were soft to the touch yet very well defined. He was so handsome. A model through and through.

And maybe, she should stop saying such things, because what did it matter that he was a model. That was the one thing she could care less about when it came to him. Not when he had so many other qualities that shone far brighter.

Slowly, she started pulling him closer. And he came willingly. Yet, at the last moment, she froze.

In the end, she couldn’t go through with it.

“Adrien.”

“Please tell me you’re going to kiss me.”

She gasped quietly, unsure how to proceed or even answer that question. “I…” Words choked up in her throat. “I… wanted to.”

“Wanted to?” Adrien asked, eyes cracking open to match hers.

Her hands fell from his cheeks, curling together on her collarbone. She glanced away shyly. “I don’t… can’t take advantage of you.”

His hand reached up to brush aside her hair before cradling the back of her neck, bringing her attention back to his soft and sweet smile. “You’re not,” he gently assured. “Not by a long shot.”

“Then…” Marinette once again reached up to cradle his cheeks, and Adrien took that as his cue to pull her close and kiss her.

It was a single kiss, one that was a firm, lingering press of their lips together.

And in that moment, Marinette knew this was game over for her and her heart. Adrien had won again. But this time, she hardly minded.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Adrien whispered. “But… seems like you were braver than I was. It never felt like the right time, and I was too chicken to push my luck when I knew I could end up losing you.”

Words now completely failed Marinette. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to respond? “I… get… how you feel.”

Above her, Adrien’s loving smile grew. “So, does this mean I can press my luck and get a favorable answer when I ask if you’d be my girl?”

Marinette was quick to nod. “Yes.”

Adrien visibly relaxed, faint blush growing on his own cheeks. “I’m… really glad to hear that.”

A short silence passed between them.

“Second question.”

“Yeah?” Marinette whispered, her heart already over the moon and head completely in the clouds.

“If I asked to kiss you again,” Adrien said, leaning closer. “Would that answer be a yes?”

Those words wracked around in her mind for two seconds before short-circuiting everything. Forget speech, because that had become physically impossible, Marinette just grabbed his cheeks again.

Right before she could pull him down to grant his request, she could hear him chuckle softly. “I like that answer,” he whispered. “But…”

His lips brushed against hers as his voice got low and so quiet she could barely pick up on the words that fully destroyed her. “I like you even more.”

[charincharge]

for holiday prompts: "just open the damn present" and/or someone slips on some ice and the other conveniently catches them

rowaelin high school bff au:  past-take masterlist

AN: Happy Holidays from these idiot best friends, who have pined through so many years of their life it’s almost hysterically funny to write. Here’s a 7th grade past-take for you. Thanks for being on this ride! xoxo.

Aelin struggled to catch her breath as she took her bow. Her pulse raced with excitement as the applause swirled around her, a raucous wave of noise congratulating her for her months of hard work, as she lowered her pointe-shoe clad foot behind her and curtseyed deeply. Opening night had gone amazing. She’d nailed every fouetté, every pirouette, every lift. She felt like she was floating on air.

Through the glare of the spotlight, she spotted her dad, whooping loudly as he leapt to his feet, and Rowan beside him, his hands clapping wildly. Her stomach flipped at the sight of her best friend’s smile, and she couldn’t help but return it as she walked back to the side of the stage, making way for the rest of the principals to take their bows.

She clapped dutifully as they finished their curtain call, trying not to rush too fast off stage as soon as the curtain dropped.

She barely paused to untie her pointe shoes and toss them in her ballet bag, swapping them for a pair of cozy socks. She was about to rush out the stage door in her costume when the company director tsked in her direction. She nodded her head in apology and removed her fancy dress, hanging it up in her cubby. As fast as she could, she put on her clothes, a pair of comfy leggings and a warm sweater, grabbed her things, and went in search of her dad and best friend. She hadn’t seen her friends in weeks. After getting cast as Clara, her entire life suddenly belonged to ballet, and she really missed seeing him. It was an incredible role, and she’d auditioned three years in a row to finally get it – but the more she danced, the more she realized that she missed the balance of her normal life. Missed spending time with Rowan.

“There’s my beautiful ballerina,” Rhoe said, pulling Aelin into his arms with no hesitation. Aelin grinned as her dad pressed a kiss to her heavily hairsprayed hair. “You were spectacular,” he said, handing her a giant bouquet of flowers.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, her brightly colored cheeks heating as she spotted Rowan waiting beside her dad, his foot tapping rapidly as he looked her over. She tried to squash her blush, but it was nearly impossible with Rowan’s smiling face so close.

Having a crush on her best friend was super annoying. It’d been over a year since she realized she liked him, but each day got harder, not easier to deal with her feelings. She hated the way she was suddenly nervous around him, unsure if she was smiling too much or too little or laughing too hard or what her hair looked like; she’d never been self-conscious, but now she couldn’t help but wish that she’d washed her stage makeup off before seeing him. She must look crazy.

“Simply amazing, hon!” Aunt Maeve cooed, pulling Aelin into her arms, squeezing her tightly. “I had no idea you could dance like that,” she said, and Aelin nodded again, trying to keep her breathing even as Rowan finally stepped forward to hug her himself.  

“I knew,” A large smile appeared on his face as he stepped away, and Aelin could feel her stomach flip at the close contact between them.

“You weren’t bored?” Aelin asked, and Rowan shook his head emphatically side to side. “I know I barely danced for twenty minutes.”

“Not even close.”

Aelin beamed at her best friend, who had sat through the three-hour ballet, just to watch her perform on opening night. Ballet wasn’t exactly Rowan’s favorite, but it meant the world to her that they all came to watch her in her big starring role.

“Should we go back to the restaurant?” Maeve asked. “I have some peppermint brownies that need tasting…”

“Yes!” Aelin begged, her stomach growling with hunger. She had been so nervous before her performance that she’d forgone dinner, and new experimental baked goods from Maeve’s sounded perfect.

She shrugged on her coat, and as she lifted her ballet bag to her shoulder, Rowan reached out. “I’ll take that.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but he simply shrugged. “A star never carries her own bags,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” she laughed at his ridiculous offer.

Aelin felt him following her all the way back to the car, hovering just behind her. It was slightly unnerving. Now that she was coming down from her performance high, the only adrenaline pulsing in her system was from her best friend’s proximity. She knew it.

She tried to walk faster to escape the strange feeling of him being so close behind her, but in her efforts to put distance between them, she missed the patch of ice coating the parking lot, and her foot slipped out from beneath her.

Her yelp was cut short, her arms bracing herself for a fall that never came, as Rowan’s strong arms wrapped around her waist. She inhaled sharply as his hands slid up, helping her back to standing. All she could feel was her heart pounding wildly.

“Careful, Ace,” he chuckled softly, his eyes flicking to her legging-clad legs. “It’d be a real shame if you only got to dance opening night after all these months of practice.”

She nodded, attempting a smile as she righted herself and got into the car. She tried to ignore the way he slid in after her, shoving herself against the window as far as she could, trying to put some space between them in the cramped backseat of Maeve’s car.

They arrived at the restaurant quickly, and Aelin smiled as Maeve lit up the space, the twinkle lights on the tree in the corner and twisted around garlands brightening the place immediately.

“You two sit,” Aunt Maeve ordered. “I’ll heat up the brownies.” She pointed to Rhoe. “And for us, bourbon vanilla chai?”

Rhoe clapped loudly. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

As the adults scuttled around the kitchen, Aelin took a seat in the cozy armchair by the window. It was dark purple, and she sank right in happily. She expected Rowan to take the seat across from her immediately, but instead he held up a finger and said, “Wait here.”

He returned quickly with a small package, wrapped in red paper and tied with a white ribbon. Aelin blinked and then blinked again as he placed the box on the small table between them and finally took his seat in the opposing chair.

Aelin looked down at the present and then back at Rowan, who was looking at her with wide green eyes.

“What’s this?” Aelin asked, poking the paper gently with her finger, and Rowan rolled his eyes.

“It’s a present.”

Aelin nodded, her stomach swirling wildly. “I can see that.”

She stared at the present nervously, as if it would explode if she opened it, and she could hear Rowan start to huff, annoyed at her reticence.

“For me?” she asked, wondering if maybe it was for Aunt Maeve and he just wanted to ask her if she’d liked how he’d wrapped it. Which, for the record, she did. It was beautifully wrapped, the ribbon pulled into a perfect bow, criss-crossing around the gift elegantly.

“Of course it is,” Rowan huffed again, and she could practically see him crossing his arms, fed up with her questioning, even though her eyes were still trained on the present between them.

“Rowan.” She paused and finally looked up. His wide eyes had narrowed, and there was a slight pout on his lips. “I didn’t get you anything,” she said. That was their rule. They didn’t exchange presents on holidays or birthdays. They’d decided early on in their friendship that it was too much pressure, and they didn’t need to get each other presents – they were content to share memories of spending those days together. They didn’t need things. That was their rule.

As if he finally realized what she was saying, Rowan started sputtering quickly. “It’s not a Christmas present!” he insisted. “It’s an opening night present. So, I haven’t broken any rules.” Aelin narrowed her eyes skeptically at his loophole.

“But now I feel bad that I don’t have anything for you,” she sighed.

Rowan rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated with her. “Ace, I watched you audition for this role for the last two years, and you finally got it. And you worked really hard, and it showed. That’s why I got it for you, okay? That’s it,” he said.

“But—” Aelin started to protest, but Rowan wasn’t having any of it.

“Ace,” he whined. “Just open the damn present.”

“Fine,” she snapped, though inside her heart was beating wildly with anticipation. She untied the bow with deft fingers, and quickly retied it in her still curled hair, making the edges of Rowan’s mouth curl upwards as she tied the bow at the top of her head.

She giggled at his expression. “Do I look stupid?” she asked. “I forgot to take off my stage makeup.”

“You look great,” Rowan assured her, his eyes darting back down to the wrapped box, and Aelin smiled, satisfied with his answer, before leaning down and carefully opening the small box.

She pushed the paper aside and lifted the lid of the white box inside, gasping at the sparkling snowflake hanging from a chain inside.

“Oh,” she breathed softly, hanging the necklace off her finger, watching it shine glittering patterns across the glass as the soft light of the roof refracted off of it. “This is… really pretty,” she said, her voice quiet as she watched the delicate pendant sway gently mid-air. Really pretty was an understatement. It was beautiful, spectacular, resplendent, and a whole slew of other vocabulary words that were racing through Aelin’s brain.

She looked past the necklace to her best friend, who watched her with a hawk-like intensity.

“I tried to look for a nutcracker necklace,” he said quickly, “But they were all so ugly. None of them looked like you,” he explained. “And I knew there were snowflakes in the ballet, but I didn’t know if you danced with them or not,” he raced out. “And now I know you don’t, but it can still remind you of tonight, right?”

His cheeks were flushed from his rushed explanation, and she smiled and nodded shyly at her friend, who was usually the quiet one between them. But Aelin didn’t even have the words. It was perfect.

“Will you help me put it on?” she asked, chewing on her bottom lip nervously as she waited for him to reply.

He didn’t respond, and she held her breath as he took the chain from her finger and started to unclasp it. Aelin sat up as straight as she could, shoulders back and neck stretched as she lifted her heavy sprayed curls off her back.

Her breath stuttered as she saw the snowflake come down in front of her face, resting just above the neckline of her sweater, and she suppressed a shiver as she felt Rowan’s warm fingers brush against her skin as he reclasped the necklace. Oh my gods. She’d never felt so warm and cold all at the same time. She bit her lip to keep from grinning to widely and giving herself away, as she was sure he could see her reflection in the window in front of them.

“Done,” he said, and Aelin’s heart took off racing as he sat back down and smiled at her.

“Now I look perfect,” she said, finally freeing her bottom lip and smiling back. They sat there smiling at each other, two mirror images of contentedness until a plate of brownies was placed between them.

Startled, Aelin looked back up at Aunt Maeve, who was grinning widely herself as she glanced between the two friends. Aelin was sure she was about to say something horribly embarrassing about how pink her cheeks were or how wide her smile was, but instead Maeve leaned down and kissed the top of Rowan’s head, causing his own face to redden.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, pointing to the delicious smelling brownies.

“Starving,” Aelin said, already reaching for the biggest piece. She shoved the baked good into her face, only slowing her chewing when she realized Rowan hadn’t eaten one yet. “What?” she asked between crumb-filled bites.

“You really like it?” he asked, his eyes flickering down to the sparkling necklace.

She put her hand over it. “I love it,” she said emphatically, still chewing. “But don’t expect I’m going to start buying you presents just because you got me one,” she said, furrowing her brow. “Christmas is next week, and I have too many performances to try and go shopping before then.” She paused.

“Of course,” Rowan laughed, finally reaching for a brownie himself. “Besides, I don’t need a present,” he laughed, reaching over and tugging at the bow on the top of her head. “I have you.”

Aelin smiled and took another bite of her brownie. She’d never take this necklace off as long as she lived.

~*~

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[maybe-your-left]

BITCH I AM DEMANDING A FLUFFY PART TWO TO KYLO FORGETTING OUR DATE OKAY?!

I WANT SWEET AND NASTY MAKEUP SEX

HAHAHHA YESSSSS. here is part one of Kylo forgetting our anniversary.

“Hey.”

You sighed into the phone, slumped on the cool leather couch. The TV blaring before you, but you didn’t listen to what was on. It had been two weeks since you kicked Kylo out, the only communication shared were clipped texts and stale ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Byes’ when he needed to pick up clean clothes.

“Hi.”

Kylo took in a slow breath, you could practically feel the air hit your face. So close, yet so far, “Are you gonna be home today?”

“Yup.”

“Cool, I’ll be there at 12 during lunch. I have some shit to grab.”

You bit back sniffling, “Okay,” your voice cracked. “I’ll be here.”

———

You scrolled through your emails, waiting at the kitchen counter for him to show up. You'd applied for some jobs a few days ago if this was really the end of you two. You needed a job, there was no way you could afford living in the penthouse and at some point, Kylo would want it back.

It was in his name anyway, the only thing you really owned without his help was your laptop.

Fingers crossed you'd find something, you haven't worked in almost five years. You didn't need to with Kylo, and he urged you to not work. He wanted to take care of you, provide for you, help you in any way he could. But now, you were left high and dry, not even a single bank account in your name.

You swallowed back another round of tears, no.

No more tears, you'd get through this. You had family who would help, friends that supported you and wanted you to be happy. Even his mom, not that you'd stoop that low, was willing to help you.

It would be better to just cut all ties to him since there was a slim chance he would want to be back together.

You still weren't sure, you missed him. Terribly, barely sleeping because his presence was gone. Jumping towards your phone whenever it rang, hoping it was him on the other side calling to make it up to you.

But the man was stubborn, angry that you kicked him out.

Claiming that his accusations were valid, which wounded you further.

A light knock on the door drew you away from your wallowing, you took a shaky breath before whispering a faint, "it's open."

Kylo walked in slowly, dressed in his work clothes. A button-up, white, with his suit jacket and tight dress pants. His hair was getting longer, the harsh lighting of the kitchen showed a sheen of grease coating it.

And the bags, the bags under his eyes were darker than normal.

A part of you was smug over his appearance.

But the rest of you ached, fighting against your baser instinct to run towards him. So he could take you in his arms while you bathed him in kisses, mourning over the time spent apart.

"Hello," he nodded stiffly towards you. Not making eye contact as he shut the door. Kylo fiddled with the strap on his shoulder, his duffel bag hanging limp. Empty, ready to stuff more things inside before he ran away to whatever place he was staying.

"Hey," you croaked, eyes flitting back to your laptop. Biting your lip as you read through rejection after rejection, no one wanted you. The gaps in your resume were too long, your diploma meant nothing since you had zero experience.

Kylo's shoes scuffed the floor, sniffing loudly before he looked at you.

"I was going to grab some more things," he glanced towards the staircase, "All my stuff is at the dry cleaners right now, I've worn these pants two days in a row."

"That sucks."

He hummed, "Okay," backing away from you slowly. You watched him walk towards the stairs, back tense and straight. His hands were tucked into his pockets, something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

You used to make him comfortable.

Now you just agitated him, even though it wasn't your fault you two were in this mess.

You stayed quiet as he rummaged around upstairs. Doors opening and closing, drawers slamming shut, you briefly heard swearing but you couldn't make it out. You hadn't thrown his stuff away, keeping everything organized. Right down to the hair products that he had left.

Color-coded and alphabetical by the sink.

His footsteps echoed to a stop, maybe he was considering kicking you out...

"Have you seen my black sweater?"

You stilled, his black sweater... "Nope."

A huff in annoyance, "The one that has the hole in the front, from when it got caught while we were in Niagra? It's not in the closet."

That's because I hid it, you thought. You'd been sleeping in it for the past week, it smelled like him and enveloped you like his arms used to. No way you were giving it back, call it a sacrifice of your relationship.

You listened to his slow descent to the kitchen, duffle now stuffed with clothes. He eyed you suspiciously, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Coming dangerously close to your seat, he angled himself behind you. A little to the left, but enough for him to spy on your computer screen.

"You're applying for jobs?"

You slapped your laptop shut, he didn't need to snoop.

"None of your business, Kylo."

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he replied, "Might be good for you, to get out of the house."

"Mhm."

"You'll want to apply to multiple places," he stepped around you, opening the fridge for a brief glance inside. Spying one of his protein shakes that you hadn't thrown out, wasn't expired yet. Kylo cracked it open and took a small sip, "You won't be able to afford this place with entry-level salaries."

"Yes," you snapped at him, "I know that."

"Just trying to help, (Y/N)."

You climbed off your stool, moving away from him to curl on the couch. Already on the verge of tears, "You aren't helping, you're just being rude."

"Well, it's rude of you to steal my shit when we aren't together anymore."

That made the waterworks start, muffling your sniffles with your fluffy blanket. You tucked yourself away, desperate to disappear. Maybe when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, or you could wake up seven years earlier to avoid ever meeting him. Save yourself from the heartache that was tearing you apart from seam to seam.

You listened to the echo as he walked towards you. Huffing when he saw your shivering form, "I don't know why you're crying. I haven't been staying here for two weeks, we clearly aren't together."

"Whatever, Kylo," you whispered, voice breaking as you took in a wet breath, "Can you just leave?"

"Sure."

------

"I can't afford to stay there mom," you whimpered into the phone, you were stalling in your car. Parked in the garage of the apartment, you had been to an interview. Realizing the pitiful reality of your life, you had already begun to sell your designer clothes. Gucci purses, red bottoms, Tiffany earrings, Cartier bracelets, you name it. Anything that could help you create a bank account was sold off.

"Have you talked to him at all? Kylo wouldn't leave you high and dry, if anything he would pay for you to get an apartment."

"I don't want his help," you hissed.

A pause, "It would be humiliating to ask, I know he's expecting it. After the talk about jobs, he's just been waiting for me to cave and sacrifice my dignity."

"I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to talk with him, I know you both have been avoiding it after the fight. It could bring you both some closure-or better yet-get you guys back together so I can get some grandbabies."

"Goodbye, mom."

You huffed as you hung up, slamming your head back into your headrest. Maybe you could sell the car, people would pay top dollar for a gold Porsche. But the title was in Kylo's name, birthday present, any money you'd earn would belong to him.

You pulled up your text thread, the last messages sent were from three days ago. He left you on read, you texted him goodnight after a few stale messages about your day and when he could come and move some furniture out. Kylo had gotten an apartment on the upper east side, right by his office. You checked the old Zillow listing, it was huge and ridiculously expensive.

Enough room for him and a new girlfriend, you were certain he was already fucking someone else. With how cruel he was with you, not even trying to make amends. Probably his secretary, she was always a slut. Showing off her tits to him, even when you came to visit. Kylo probably bent her over his desk the day after he left, just because he could.

You swallowed your pride, it was now or never.

Kylo, I think we need to talk.

Send.

Let's see how long it... oh?

What happened, I'm at work right now.

Quick, maybe he got the notification on his laptop.

Could I swing by the office?

Right now?

Yeah.

Typing...

I have a shareholder meeting at 2, make it quick.

You sped towards his work, determined to get there before he changed his mind and banned you from coming. You were shocked he even agreed, maybe he was having a rare good day.

Or forgot that you two were broken up.

After parking, you jogged into the building. No need to say hi to anyone, it was embarrassing enough to be the ex-girlfriend visiting. At least you were dressed up, people wouldn't think you were in the poor house, yet.

You smiled coldly at his secretary, not bothering to tell her what you were here for. Despite her stuttering about him having a meeting at 2, she was totally fucking him. There's no way she wasn't, a man like him can barely go a day without sticking his dick in something.

Whipping open the door, you were met with the uncomfortable silence that blanketed his office. Curtains were drawn, lights on the dimmest setting, the only noises were the door creaking and his fingers typing.

Like he was punishing the words, Kylo was good at breaking keyboards with his aggressive emailing.

You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes briefly flickered towards you before moving back to the screen. Okay, you walked slowly towards his desk. Pulling out a chair as quietly as possible, the leather squeaking when you sat.

Kylo let out a long sigh, leaning away from his screen. "What is it you want to talk about?"

With a harsh swallow, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. Anything to avoid his penetrating gaze, "I just wanted to talk about, you know."

He blinked, face blank, "Use your words, please. I don't have time to fuck around, I have a business to run."

"I-I-I"

"Spit.it.Out."

"How come you never apologized?"

Silence.

Kylo's jaw clenched and unclenched, leaning back in his chair slowly. Staring directly at you, "This conversation?"

"Yes, I need to know."

"What good is it doing us now?"

"I don't know I just-"

"What are you hoping to gain from this?"

"Kylo-"

He huffed loudly, "I don't have to answer you anymore, we aren't together."

You slammed a fist on his desk, rattling a few pieces he had decorating it. Standing on your wobbling legs, "Listen to me, you can be an asshole all you fucking want but I deserve answers."

Kylo narrowed his eyes, standing slowly before you. His form towering, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. Crawling to his office for closure, and instead, he wanted to argue with you about the necessity of the conversation.

You watched his palms lay flat on the polished wood, crinkling papers he had strewn about.

"If you're here for money, just fucking say it."

"I am not here for-"

Now it was his turn to slam the desk, "Bullshit! You're here to fucking grovel because you don't know how to take care of yourself. Can't even get a second-rate job!"

"You're the one who insisted on taking care of me!"

"So you think it's okay to demand money when we aren't together? Selling off all the shit I bought you to pay the power bills?"

You gaped at him, "I would never."

"Shut up," Kylo spat, leaning further across to be nose to nose, "You forget that I have your email linked to my laptop. I can see every pathetic message about pawning what I worked for. What I provided you, fucking ungrateful."

"How dare you sneak through my email!?"

"It's not sneaking if I have the passwords, darling."

"You can't fucking do that," you pushed away, arms folded while you glanced around the room. All your pictures were gone, more proof that showed he was erasing your existence, "At least I'm not already fucking someone..."

"Excuse me?"

You spoke over your shoulder, "You heard me."

"Are you seriously accusing me of that," Kylo scoffed, "When that's what got us into this mess in the first place?"

You shrugged, "How long have you been fucking her, did you march to her place after I kicked you out?"

"(Y/N)."

"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just tell me the truth, because there's no way you'd just abandon me if there wasn't someone else."

"(Y/N)."

You spun on your heel, snarling with a finger in his face, "How many women have you replaced me with? Huh? Or is it just your slut of a secretary-"

Kylo flipped his desk, everything crashing to the floor. You screamed as he began to throw items to the walls, tear books off the shelves, kicking his chairs to the ground. Anything he could get his hands on he attempted to tear apart.

"Enough!"

Heavy breaths.

"I'm not fucking anyone else! Are you fucking serious? All I've fucking done is work! Trying to just fucking move on but nooo," he faced you now, cheeks red and puffing. A few tracks of tears streaking towards his jaw, "You-you just have to be right, and have to be the victim of all this when it's both our fucking fault!"

Kylo paced away from you, running his fingers through his hair before crouching down to the floor. Cradling his face in his hands while he took in shaky breaths, "I fucking missed you, so much. It's all I thought about, but every fucking time I came back you ignored me."

"Kylo-"

"No, you fucking iced me out. I could barely speak to you and I wasn't going to do anything over text."

You succumbed to your tears, there was no way to hold them. Choking as you wiped away the floods, "I-I didn't m-mean to, you weren't talking to me Kylo. How was I supposed to r-react?"

Now he was crying, hiccuping in an attempt to steady his breathing and push through it like he always had. But he couldn't stop the tremor in his voice, "You could've told me you loved me or forgave me. Anything would've been better than this."

"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, I'm not the one who forgot our day and manhandled me in the tub! You were drunk, rude, and horrible to me, I deserved an apology."

"I know," he sniffed, "I tried to-the first few times I came back for clothes. But you hid from me."

You nodded slowly, pacing your way towards him. Unsure of how he'd react to you touching him, but you needed to be closer. You shuffled to his side, sliding your back against the gray wall to the floor.

"We've never been good at apologizing."

Kylo sat on the floor, mirroring you against the wall, "At least before, you didn't kick me out. Force me to crash on a couch, you know I don't fit on couches."

You chuckled softly, not wanting to smile at the visual.

"That's why our couch was custom," he laughed too, dull and humorless, "Because I kept sliding off."

"Yup."

Both of you swallowed, throats clicking in unison. Kylo shuffled in a more comfortable position, looking out at the clouded sky that peeked through the shades.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

A breath, "I never meant to miss our day, and I thought you were finished with me. I should've just spoken to you instead of drink, but that doesn't mean much now."

You hummed, "Thank you."

"I can write you a check," he sighed, "So you can get another place and still keep whatever's left of your collections."

"You don't-"

"I know I don't."

Kylo wrote you a check for half a million dollars, not looking at you when he ripped it from his checkbook. He mumbled about the bank may be needing to call him to confirm it, just have them call my office number.

Sending you off without another word.

------

Your new apartment was cute, small, perfect for you.

Light and airy, none of the fixtures were black or red. Hues of pink, coral, green, and blue danced around the rooms. Your couch was velvet, just because you wanted it to be. With an abundance of pillows and candles on every surface, you could fit them onto.

Your bed was a four-poster with a dreamy white canopy, soft and cloudlike bedding scrunched up from however you left them. No one was running around frantic to make the bed, or straighten the blinds, or draw the curtains, it was just yours.

The check was cashed with little fuss, you tried not to cry about it. You dropped off the old house keys at Kylos office, along with your car keys, there was no need to keep the Porsche. You weren't living that life anymore, you could buy your own car now! And it would be yours, it was too hard to drive the gift everywhere.

Kylo told you to keep the car when he found the keys, but you ignored his messages. He wouldn’t understand why you wouldn’t keep it, but that was his problem.

You sighed into your couch, looking at the TV nestled next to the bay window. Imagining where you could squish more houseplants… you already had an abundance but it wouldn’t hurt.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, startling you as you scrambled towards it. Oh, it was Kylo, odd.

“Hey?”

“Hey.”

“Uh,” you stood from the floor, scratching your cheek as you walked. “What’s up?”

He cleared his throat, “I saw you got a place, wanted to drop off a housewarming gift.”

Your face scrunched, balancing the phone between your face and shoulder. Popping a potato chip in your mouth, “Why would you do that?”

A sigh, “Can you just buzz me in? I brought wine…”

“Whatever.”

Kylo came in with a tight smile, dressed in some black joggers and a gray t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, not his typical look on a weekday. He held up a brown paper bag, Whole Foods on the label.

"You went to Whole Foods?" you raised a concerned brow.

"Nope," he set the bag on your kitchen table, eying the plants and crystals that littered your living room. A few magazines were strewn around on the surface, "I had my secretary do it."

You glared at him, which he noticed before shaking his head rapidly, "New secretary-not the old one. His name is Brady, he's very nice."

Kylo stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing in every direction as you approached the bag. Humming when you began pulling out the goodies he had, as promised there was a bottle of wine. Your favorite, along with a set of glasses.

A clear purple tinge, almost vintage looking. Some of your favorite fruit, he blushed when you held them up to his eyes. Mumbling how you never had enough of them in the past, and it was their season.

Now you were blushing, finding some red velvet cupcakes. Packaged beautifully, and a small vase in the shape of a kitty. You placed it on the table, looking at it over and over. Biting your lip as you waited for something to happen.

"I like your place," Kylo croaked out, "It's very bright."

You chuckled, "You're just used to your eyes straining from all the red and black decor."

He hummed, walking down your hallway. Glancing indoors that were left open until he made it to your bedroom. You heard him groan when he saw the white sheets and canopy, Kylo whistled for you.

Obediently, you pranced towards him, taken aback when he was sprawled on your mattress. Facedown with his face in your pillow, groaning like he was trying to wake up from a good dream.

"I fucking forgot how good you smelled," he moaned out, looking over at you lazily, "What would I have to do to get you to make out with me in here?"

------

LOL, this was long, but I'll do a part three if you would enjoy the rest of their reunion.

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[cotncandyboifics]

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

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

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

-

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

-

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that  class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

-

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

-

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

-

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

-

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

[kareniliana]

Jeremy: Meet Again

A//N: a little different and low key long. not really first time meeting but you'll see the connection when you read it. Also if you want to request something just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one!

xx Karebear 💛🧸

Being a sixteen year old in high school is stressful enough but being a sixteen year old witch, with little to no friends and absentee parents makes it harder for you to get your emotions in check. But you were able to find something that helps calm you, weed. You don’t necessarily need it but when the moon is full, your powers are enhanced and a little out of control. 

okay that's a little bit a lie, they become too much for you to control. Thats where the amazing marijuana plant comes in handy, it calms your anger. You've always had problems controlling your anger. At one point your parent’s noticed too many holes in the walls of your personal rage room and sent you to anger management.

It helped for a few weeks but when the full moon was in effect, all that progress- everything that you learned, it went down the drain. You slowly became more and more angry and uncontrolled during the day but at night. It only seemed to get worse for you.You don't sleep because it gets too hot upstairs. You go down to your basement, where your parents moved your rage room to, for this reason exactly. Over the night you continually get fed up and release the pain and anxiety and anger against the four walls of your rage room. You thought you were helpless and a waste of energy to help. 

You were contemplating on your life, if it was ever even worth the trouble to get to know or help. Having no real friends doesn’t help either. As you lit up a joint in the stoner pit you see the regular groups of people who use drugs to escape from everything but that wasn’t you. You weren’t escaping reality, you were reverting back to the median. Your emotions sometimes gets the best of you and with your magic you start chaos.

“Y/n Y/l/n” Your one and basically only friend comes up to you and sits with you before school starts.

“Jeremy Gilbert, to what do I owe the pleasure” you joked and laughed as you passed the small joint to Jer.

“So I found some stuff out these past few weeks. I just need someone to talk to.” He said almost awkwardly, hitting the J and passing it back to you. You looked into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, almost getting lost in them. You shake your head of any intimate visuals your brain is coming up with.

Jer smirks, almost as if he knows about your little crush for him. “but uh, You cannot tell anyone, not a single soul.” He looks at you with soft and adoring eyes, almost making you think maybe he likes you too? 

“Who am I going to tell, my weed?” You joke, lifting the joint to your lips. “Seriously though, what is it?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you with worried eyes, “Vampires and werewolves and witches- they exist. They’re real, we have students who are supernatural creatures.” He drops the bomb, studying you for any kind of reaction. You held a straight face, you’re a witch. But you didn’t know about werewolves and vampires, you really only know about witches because why the hell else would you research more on the supernatural spectrum?

“You can’t be serious Jer.” You stared into his eyes looking for a hint of dishonesty, but he wasn’t budging.

“Why would I lie to you? We think someone here is a new incoming witch, and we need to find them and help get their magic under control before something big happens.” His voice sounds worried and caring but who else here is a witch.

“What makes you think that?” You asked, a little worried because you can admit sometimes you lose control at school but you never knew if it was noticeable or not. You’re a loner, no one really cares if you’re having a panic attack or whatnot.

“You cannot tell me you haven’t noticed all the bizarre shit that’s been happening here? Just yesterday before lunch everyones locker in the halls opened. Everyone heard the sound of them opening simultaneously, it sounded like a canon!” You realized you were the witch they were looking for, you had birthday dinner set with your parents but they called you during class to inform you they were sent on a business trip to New York for a client. Which meant they were canceling on you. For the third birthday in a row. You lost control of your emotions and you let it out as a scream, you heard the echo of the lockers burst open from the basement of the school. 

“A few days ago Stefan and Caroline were mind tased that only a witch can do. And-” Jeremy looking to the two vampire from a few yards away, your face tinging with guilt, every time you went to let your anger out, you did something to the school or something around you. 

“-Wait, why only Stefan and Caroline? Are they..” you interrupted.

“Vampires. Luckily no one else was in the halls...” your head falls in disappointment, a frown and sad eyes very evident. Jeremy looks back over to you, instantly concerning himself. 

“Whats wrong? Wait, hey Y/n, what happened?” Jeremys hand reaches for your face, lifting your head to look at him. Tears formed, threatening to spill out. Guilt was written all over your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone I swear I just get so angry. I- I -” Your bottom lip started to quiver, almost sobbing you looked over to the vampires, “I’m really really sorry.”

“Hey wait, what are you...” He tried comforting you as he realized it was you they are looking for. “oh... it- it’s you. You're the witch.” You nodded your head, leaning away from him. He’s gonna see you differently now. He’s gonna hate you. He’s gonna leave, and you'll be all alone... your breath quickly increased, becoming into a panic attack and it’s beginning to become too overwhelming.

As your breathing increases, clouds roll in slowly covering the sun, then the wind starts raging around you all, you were doing this without even realizing it. It scared you more. 

“Y/n? No, hey hey its okay.” he tried reaching for you, but you were too fast. Jumping off the deck and running to your car. Then suddenly the clouds begins to crack with thunder, you can see the lightning across the clouds, ready to strike the earth.

You saw Stefan and Caroline begin to run to you but without really thinking you wave your hand at them, sending them flying into a bus. You ran without a second look back. Getting to your car and driving home, down the lonely winding road to your driveway, passing other driveways to the very few neighbors you have. 

“Okay, calm yourself!” You shouted at yourself as you hit the steering wheel, causing the storm to hail down rain. Suddenly you got the feeling os pins and needles all throughout your body, every muscle you felt a stab or slicing. You can feel your skin warming up.

“No, no, no, no, no, this cannot be happening!” You gripped the wheel and let all hell loose, screaming at the top of the lungs. A wave of power and force struck out from your body, feeling a wave of calmness come over you. You stopped the car, keeping your eyes closed hoping you were able to hold back the storm in your brain and above you in the dark sky.

You got your breathing under control, opening your eyes you see the storm is rolling away, and the sun is shining through. You chuckled, you were able to pull it back. “I did it, I really did it?” You smiled at yourself, letting out a deep breath. You got out of the car to really look at the sky.

As you got out, you look ahead and see tire skid marks on the road, they look fresh. You following the trail to a crash and totaled car, thrown again a wall of trees. Bringing tears instantly to your eyes, you hurt someone.

“Please be alive, oh, please be alive!” You scream trying to open the door but it’s at a weird angle the side doors aren’t opening and you're not climbing the death trap to the top. You can see blood on the windshield and drivers window, anxiety making your hands begin to shake.

“Okay... Think! Think!” You yelled and hit at your head. “You're a Goddamn powerful witch, start acting like it!”

You took a deep breath, standing a few feet away. You concentrated all of your magic to lift and stabilize the wrecked vehicle. Closing your eyes and feeling the earths pull on the car resist you, smirking at the feeling of power for good and not an emotional outbreak. 

“Y/n! Y/N!! WHERE ARE YOU?” Jeremy, Caroline and Stefan followed after you in Carolines car. Jeremy convinced Stefan to let him go look after you alone. You trust him, you know him, you don’t trust Stefan- you barely know him. And Caroline has a reputation, you make it your mission to avoid her.

You opened your eyes seeing the car is now on all four wheels, you exclaimed in excitement. “I’m here, their bleeding! Come help me!” you walked into view, he stood at the road near your car. Jeremy saw you emerge from the trees and ran to you.

“Help me get them out!” You didn’t even give Jeremy a chance to get to you before you sprinted to the car. You can’t be responsible for killing someone.

“What happened?” He asked as you try to pry the doors open.

“I happened! What else?!” You exclaimed as it finally gave in and opened. The bloody elderly man in the passengers seat had cut’s everywhere, he lifted his hand just for it to fall again, letting go of his last breath.

“No, no! Stefan!!” Jeremy screamed the second we got the door opened. The vampires showing up not even a second later. “Help him!”

Stefan listened for a heartbeat, but there was nothing. “I’m sorry, he’s gone.” Stefan says sadly.

“But, no...” You said sadly, “I killed him? I actually killed him?” You looked to Jer.

“Can you explain to me what kind of witch you are? ‘Cause I’ve never seen just one witch make that bad of a storm and especially not that fast.” Stefan asked nicely but worried. You looked to Stefan with a scrunched up face, wondering how he could jump from you killing an innocent man to your supernatural abilities. But it slowly made sense, he’s probably an older vampire than you thought and has more experience with this than you did. 

Your face relaxed into a frown, “I don’t know, just a regular witch. I don’t even know that much. I don’t know anyone in my family who could be a witch. I have some control of it... except..” You sighed deeply, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

“Except when?” Stefan said a little more sternly than before, taking a step towards you. Caroline grabbed his arm holding him back and interrupting.

“This seems like a witch problem for Bonnie. She can help you get control, no matter what it is, we can help.” Caroline said with a nod and soft smile. You returned her a smile of your own.

“But what do we do now? About him?” You asked about the dead man in the totaled car. Stefan walked towards the door, seeing the man drenched in his own blood but none of the windows are broken.

You brought Stefan’s attention away, “What am I supposed to do? Should I turn myself in?”

“Y/n, when do you have the least amount of control?” He asked sternly and worried, like he was depending on my answer to be best case scenario. 

You gulped loudly, “during the full moon” you muttered, everyones eyes on you. They looked confused yet scared.

“Y/n, look at him. Tell me, how did he die by this much blood loss without any broken windows, the car I trashed but the windows are for the most part intact.”He spoke softly, almost guiding me through his thought process. You looked up at him confused by the scene in front of you.

“What were you feeling when the accident happened?” Jeremy asked, almost catching on to what Stefan was trying to conclude. 

“I... first, I felt this overwhelming feeling of fear and self anger. Then I felt almost like something was slicing into my muscles, kinda like pins and needles... And I was hot, like I kept trying to stay warm but I couldn’t...” You looked down before asking, “Instead of me feeling that pain, I passed it to him?”

Jer sighed sadly,“Yeah. but his body doesn't heal like yours, because he's human... and you’re...” 

“A witch...” You finished, looking down with a frown on your face and sad eyes.

“And a werewolf.” Stefan added, causing your head to whip up at him. Confusion and sadness written on your face.

“What? Is that even possible?” You asked looking back and forth between Stefan and Jeremy.

“We’re not sure but if we’re right, you just triggered the curse.” Stefan said point-blank.

“No, I can’t be!” You raised your voice at Stefan.

“You have trouble controlling your anger, you lose control of your magic on the full moon during the day.” He said quickly, almost scared of you losing control again. “What happens at night? Huh?” 

You thought back to those sleepless nights of complete chaos, you’re starting to think he’s right.

“Tonight’s a full moon. What can we do to help?” Caroline spoke up, worried for you. 

“I need to figure out how to control it, what if now that I actually triggered it, it’s only worse from here?” You asked, worried out of your mind.

“Don’t think of it like that, I think you can do it. You just have to believe in yourself. Okay?” Jeremy brought his hands to your shoulders, comforting you. “Maybe now, you’re not bounded. You can shift and feel it instead of passing it on.”

Jeremy hugged you, trying his hardest to help keep you calm. He was worried for you. He was scared this would be too much for you and you’d end up hurting yourself instead.

“Okay, Jeremy get her out of here. We got this okay.” Stefan said, suggesting he would make it go away or at least make sure nothing points to you or Jeremy.

Jeremy takes you home, you showed him your rage room with all it’s damage and glory. He thought it would be best to stay here where you’re most comfortable and your parents were still out of town. Being worldly known defense lawyers means, business trips to New York or L.A. or Seattle. Really anywhere but Mystic Falls.

“Okay So I called Tyler and Bonnie. They should be here soon.” Jeremy sat down on the sofa with you, looking over to you. You sat up and looked confused to why you needed Tyler.

“He’s a werewolf, he can help guide you through the shift. He’s probably going to say something like ‘accept the pain’ blah blah.” He joked, making you laugh a little.

“Can you stay with me?” You asked shyly, after the laughter died down a little.

“You sure?” He asked looking at you with worried but loving eyes, getting lost in your y/e/c eyes.

“I’m basically going to go through the shift with strangers, I don’t think I could do it without you there. But if you don’t feel safe-”

“I’ll stay” His hand reached for yours, giving it a little squeeze. “You need me, I’m not leaving.”

You looked up from your hands to his eyes, you smile softly. You opened your mouth to say something but then the doorbell goes off. Almost scaring you both, you go to the door. Opening it to see Tyler Lockwood and Bonnie Bennett. You never in your life expected to ever see them at your front door, let alone being the supernatural creatures that they are. Crazy how life turns when you found out you're not human.

You showed them your rage room, and ensured them that your parents will not be in town for a few days. Then Tyler pulled out sets of chains and some restraining equipment, Tyler drilled anchor points on three of the wall and ground. Bonnie began to assemble the wrist clasps and what looked like a collar but metal. This all began to start to scare you and you could feel your magic begin to storm. But shortly after the magic spark, you could feel your body radiate extreme heat. Jeremy was helping Tyler connect the chains to the anchor points. You stood there confused, in pain and beginning to lose yourself. But then you’d catch a glimpse of Jeremy and you came back to the median. When this cycle of pain and anxiety came, you'd look to Jeremy and you'd look back to you with a smile, and you seemed to get control. 

Until suddenly, your bones begin to break. You screamed in pain and fell down to the floor. “Jer!”

“It’s starting already?! But the moon isn’t even at in effect yet!” Tyler exclaimed, helping you get up from the floor.

“Oh yeah? Well why did it start nearly an hour ago! Ahh!” Your arm breaks, you’re a panting sweaty mess. Tyler, Bonnie and Jeremy are trying chain you up but it’s a little difficult when you’re in the middle of shifting. Then the agonizing pain of your fangs coming out causes you to roar in pain, your eyes glowing an iridescent yellow. Claws and wolf hair growing out of everywhere. 

Tyler pushed Jeremy towards the wall, getting him out of harms way. Jeremy watched in amazement, he’s never seen a shift like this one. It was oddly controlled. You moved as if you’ve done this before, but everyone knows you haven’t. Jeremy didn’t realize he was the reason why she was so relaxed and accepting, he would look at you and you’d remember what he said. just believe in yourself.

Bonnie and Tyler moved back once they finally closed the last cuff. You roared, but held onto your humanity, you stayed in this half way form, holding Jeremy’s gaze.

“Yeah that's it Y/n, you got it. Just accept it, embrace it, don’t fight it. Okay?” Jeremys calm voice led you do letting go of your fears and you let yourself finish your shift. Your clothes ripped into shreds as you transformed into a white wolf with your bright iridescent eyes- even your fur seemed to glow a yellow tint. You glowed, truly glowed. The three of them stared in amazement, this was their first time experiencing something so magical and boundless.

Once they realized you were shifting back to human they left the room for you and bonnie, she brought down some clothes of yours that weren’t shredded to pieces. She released you from the restraints and handed you the clean clothes. As you got dressed you talked about your magic and how in control you seemed, she goes on to say that maybe your problem isn’t losing the control it’s that you get scared and make yourself lose it. You’re scared of what embracing the magic can do to you. She mentioned she also was scared of fully embracing it and letting herself be powerful.

“Last night you were too focused on your shift that your magic was controlled. You never wavered. You should be proud of yourself.” Bonnie praised you and had left a few spell books with you to help you get comfortable using your magic. 

You followed after Bonnie to the front door, walking Tyler and her out. “Thanks for everything, I know who to call if I’m in trouble with the shift.”

“Call me for anything.” Bonnie smiled and got into her car, Tyler opening the door and nodding at you before getting in. He rolled the window down.

“You got this, if you ever need anyone to let off some steam, come to me. We can figure out healthy ways to release that anger.” Tyler waved and they were off. Jeremy came out from the bathroom, grabbing his jacket. 

“I have to get home to shower before school.” He pulled his phone out as he received a text from Elena. You turned around as you heard her car pull up before you can see it. This werewolf hearing is gonna take a while to get used to. 

“I’ll see you there?” He asked, worried you weren’t going to school. 

“Yeah, of course. I- I feel good. I think I got a good handle on it now.” You smiled proudly in yourself. He smiled with you.

“I’m proud of you too.” He went down the steps and climbed into his sisters car, as they drove off you could hear Elena tease Jeremy about you.

You ran upstairs getting to finally shower off this exhaustion and soreness, shifting was painful but once you’re through it, it feels like a huge relief. You’re at peace and calmed. but now you’re back to human form, and it’s like your personalities of each are at each others neck. You were able to control it and keep them at bay. You weren’t helpless, you’re not a lost cause. You were helped, after all those terrible sleepless nights and the pain, the feeling of being alone in your pain and agony. You were found, you found yourself. You’re more you than you’ve been.

You cleaned up your rage room and put a lock on it, that way your parents don’t get curious and check it out- not that they have but just a precaution. Getting everything locked up and squared away you got int your car and went to school, driving past the site of the accident there was police tape a little ways into the woods. Stefan and Caroline had told the sheriff the truth, seeing as she knew about the supernaturals and helped cover up some major instances. Much like the accident you caused, which you will never stop feeling bad about. You don’t think you’ll be able to look at a human life the same again. Because you had to take a life to finally feel free and like yourself. You never knew being a were-witch would be the answer to your emotional health. 

You pulled into a parking spot, getting your things together before getting out. Seeing Jeremy leaning on a tree, waiting for you nearby. You smiled at him and walked to him. 

“You seem different.” Jeremy pointed out once you reached him. You smiled up at him.

“Yeah I feel different. I don’t feel like the same Y/n as before.” You chuckled, embracing yourself for the first time is empowering.

“In that case. Hi, I’m Jeremy and I'm a Human.” Jeremy held his hand out, meeting you all over again.

You laughed and played along, “Hi Jeremy, I’m Y/n. A Were-witch.” You giggled, feeling a sense of self.

You gave him your hand, not letting go of your gaze. He smiled at you and pulled you into a hug.