#and when your momentum pulls the bar out of your hand it also drops you to the ground on your feet

[yoshiyakiryu-archive]

Mad. Angy. I want to talk to people but don't want to subject them to my bad mood and will probably just sull anyway. Probably understimulated but everything is the wrong kind of sensory input.

[wereshrew-admirer]

🌹🌹

multiple! gonna cheat a lot and put the whole first section of the second chapter of my lemfero tusk carving fic here because i couldn't pick just one line:

It’s a little bird. There’s a tiny and perfect bird on each of Lem’s tusks, and Fero had remembered Lem’s request to keep anything important farther down so it would take longer to grow out. Lem is grateful that Fero remembered, because he nearly cries when he sees them, and then he does actually cry when he sees that the abstract swirls and lines below them also serve as music bars. There on his face, written into his bones, is a tiny melody spelled out as leaves in the wind. 

He’s turning his head this way and that, struggling to get enough light to read the music in the dim cave (He’s awed. How was fero able to see what he was doing?) when Fero’s voice against the silence of the cave nearly causes him to drop the mirror, “That bad huh? If you’re gonna cry we can just sand them down”

Lem turns to protest, but Fero is smiling. And Lem is smiling too, and the tears continue to fall, and he’s blubbering out “thank you”s instead of sentences each time he tries to speak, so Lem gives up and places the mirror down carefully on a nearby table before pulling Fero into a hug. He’s probably squeezing too hard, and Fero’s feet are off the ground, and Lem (remembering that he’s maybe allowed to do this now) kisses the top of Fero’s head. Fero’s so light, it’s nothing to hold him out far enough that to access his face, and now Lem is still crying a little, but he’s frantically kissing trails of gratitude across Fero’s forehead and cheeks and nose and chin, his eyelids and his mouth and the space between his eyebrows. Fero is hitting him as if he wants to escape, but laughing, too. 

“This isn’t-“ laughter “what i asked for!”

So Lem puts him down, tries to regain control of himself. It’s shaky, but he’s able to get more than just those two words out this time, “Fero, do you know how wonderful you are? How important, and - and skilled! -Of, of course you do” Lem’s laughter to crying ratio has tipped towards laughter, “You’re confident and brave and I didn’t know you could read music??”

Fero’s smile is big enough to get lost in, so Lem lets himself get lost in everything he’s wanted to say to Fero over the past several years, “I’m so lucky to know you Fero! You can barely read but it doesn’t even matter, or, or not most of the time,  because you know practically everything! You can make anything and you can turn into birds so of course! Of course you would be perfect at this too!”

He steps forward to embrace Fero again, caught up in his affectionate momentum, but Fero stops him with a hand in his face and Lem is all laughter now despite the sweaty hand smashing his nose a little, “and your hands, Fero!” he plants a kiss at the center of Fero’s defense and it crumbles, Fero snatching it back to his side, “Fero, I think I l- Fero, I’m so lucky to know you.” He’s out of breath so he falls back into repetitions of “thank you, thank you” as if he needs to say it 500 times in order to set a pattern in motion that will express all the things he can’t put to words. 

After a moment of appraisal Fero steps forward and tugs Lem down by his shirt, stares into his eyes, and almost-serious, says: “Your performance was a little hard to follow, but I think you got the job done.” Then he pats Lem’s cheek and walks away. Once he’s passed into the darkness  beyond reach of the lanterns in this room, he casually calls back, “Come on!”

And so Lem chokes on his breath, remembering the rest of Fero’s plan, and stumbles after him into the dark.

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Can we get some more Ace Ops Jaune being seduced by his teammates? I really enjoyed that AU!

Elm

“Oi Jaune. How much do you weigh again?”

Jaune paused in taking a swig from his water bottle and glanced over at Elm. They were both in the Atlas Academy gym, dressed in their usual workout attires. He had just finished running a few miles and was taking a break when Elm popped that question. Jaune pulled his lips off of the bottle and swallowed the water in his mouth to answer her. “Uuuuuh like... 170 pounds. 180 maybe. Why?”

Elm just continued to focus on wrapping some bindings around her hands, but she did respond absently. “No reason. But that’s like... 200ish with all of your gear right?”

“Yeeeeah... I guess so.”

“Okay then.” Elm clenched her fists to make sure that her bindings were good to go, then moved over to one of the nearby weight bars. After looking at the weight on it, she nodded to herself and picked up two weight plates, adding them to both sides of the bar. Jaune could see that they were both 50 pounds. And judging by what was already on the bar when she went over, Jaune had to guess the bar now weighed at least 200 pounds. Maybe even 250. 

Elm smiled to herself and glanced over at Jaune, who was still sitting down on a bench and still staring at her. Their eyes locked and Elm felt a small rush go through her chest as she grabbed the bar from underneath with both of her hands.

With little effort, Elm lifted the bar up and began curling it. All with perfect form, no shaking in her body, and all with a confident smile and seductive look directed right at Jaune. She subtly licked her lips as she saw his eyes widen and cheeks grew red. She confidently said, "Guess this means I wouldn’t have any trouble holding you up huh Little Knight~?. But let me know if you wanna test it out personally~.” and sent an air kiss and a wink his way for good measure. All without breaking her form.

Jaune just looked away from his senior teammate and covered his face from her view with his water bottle. He still wasn’t used to her teasing, but he was very happy that they were the only ones in the gym. His baggy shorts did little to hide the slight bulge in them.

Harriet

Harriet sent a quick right jab towards Jaune’s head. She slipped it past his raised forearms that he was trying to block with. Her gloved knuckles collided with his right eye, which made him recoil back. Thankfully they had aura otherwise he’d probably have a black eye. Jaune was even more thankful she didn’t have her exoskeleton arms, otherwise it’d also probably be a cracked eye socket.

Jaune’s head snapped back from the blow and he stepped back with one foot, trying to regain his balance. Harriet wasn’t going to let her opening pass by however. She quickly jumped at the man in front of her. Almost in slow motion, Harriet turned her body in midair to land with her thighs on Jaune’s shoulders, her crotch, which was only covered by some white athletic shorts, was less than an inch from Jaune’s face. Harriet’s momentum from her jump forced Jaune to take a few more steps back, pushing him even farther across the mat they were sparring on.

A brief pause came across the two. Harriet glanced down at Jaune, whose upper half was leaning backwards at quite a big angle. Jaune’s eyes reopened after he closed them to avoid the hit he thought Harriet was going to dish out after she jumped at him. They looked at each other for a moment, then Harriet smirked deviously and finished her move.

She spun herself around Jaune’s head and flung him down to the mat in one smooth motion. She rolled with him as his body hit the ground and immediately rushed to get back above him. She got above him, cocking her arm back while she kneeled above him. She was completely ready to rain down the blows when Jaune raised his head up and yelled out, “I yield!” from beneath her.

The female Ace Op let out a short sigh and lowered her arm. Seeing the incoming punch go away, Jaune dropped his head back down and let out his own sigh. “Man... today is not my day.”

Harriet rested her elbow on her raised knee. “Hey, that was only the fifth match today. And you landed some good hits on me.”

“Still my fifth loss though.”

“Yeah yeah, and soon you’ll get your first win, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” She smirked and leaned over Jaune more so she could really look down on him. “That’s my job.” To emphasize her point, she jutted her thumb towards her smirking face.

“Ha ha. Can you let me up now Harriet?”

“Hmmmm... I dunno~.” Harriet dropped her one one she had probed up, so that she was now on both of her knees. And straddling Jaune’s chest. As Jaune’s face lit up like a fire Dust crystal, Harriet sat her butt down right on his chest, her firm cheeks squishing down on his hard chest. And she totally didn’t grind down on him. “I kinda like how you look under me~.” Jaune just shut his eyes tightly and looked away from her, his face totally red. He couldn’t even retort, he was so flustered. 

Turns out he didn’t need to as Harriet started laughing out loud. “Haha no need to get so shy! I’m just messing with you Rookie! Come on,” Harriet stood up, still above Jaune, and offered her hand down to him. “Get off the floor. I think we’ve sparred enough for today.”

Jaune glanced back above him and saw the hand. After a moment of hesitation, he accepted it and the smaller woman yanked him up to his feet with surprising ease. He hopped back a step when he got to his feet, definitely not to back up from the woman in front of him.

But Harriet still seemed amused all the same. She placed a hand on her hip as she said, “How about you finish the workout with some leg stuff? You still need to get the base a bit stronger.”

“S-sure Harriet... Thanks.” Jaune quickly took the opportunity to turn around and hide his still reddened cheeks. 

Harriet watched Jaune the entire time he walked away and towards some of the workout equipment nearby. She also took a few glances at his ass while she did so. ‘I’ll never get tired of kicking that ass~’

[strandnreyes]

taken from my old hollywood au that has finally picked up momentum... super excited to share more of this one!

“First and foremost, you act like a gentleman,” Tony says in a way that indicates there’s no room for negotiation. “That means you keep your nose clean. No bringing home a new gal every night or spending so much time in the bar that you’re stumbling home, at least not in a place where your face will be plastered on the front page of every newspaper by sunrise. You represent the studio now. Every time someone sees you in public, they see us.”

It makes sense, he supposes. He just wasn’t expecting that the expectations were so outright and explicit for each actor. 

Tony mistakes his silence for hesitation as he raises a brow. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, sir,” TK says right away. Both an easy truth and a hard lie. 

“It better not be,” Tony says in finality before moving on. “You also need to–” 

A knock on the door behind TK cuts him off and Tony’s annoyed sigh at being interrupted morphs into a surprised smile when he waves the person in.

“Detective Valencia, what can I do for you?” Tony asks.

TK furrows his brow, suddenly on alert as to why there’s a police presence at the studio, but if anything Tony looks thrilled to see whoever’s standing in the doorway. He turns around just in time to see Carlos Reyes standing there in a pinstripe suit with a soft shake to his head. 

“You know if you keep continuing to call me by my characters’ names, I’m going to start to think you forgot my real one,” Carlos smiles.

TK’s familiar with Carlos, ‘America’s New Leading Man’ as he was dubbed after the studio picked him up the year before last for his breakout role. He isn’t sure there’s a soul in the nation who doesn’t know who Carlos is or who hasn't flocked to the theater to watch him. 

For TK it was an escape. Two full hours where he wasn’t slumped over a bar just to forget the telephone call that informed him he was never going to see his mother again. Where he just got to turn off his brain, to watch a story come to life in front of him, to spend more time learning the lines of Carlos’ face than listening to the dialogue. 

The biggest screen in New York doesn’t nearly do justice to what it’s like to be in the same room as him. 

“Of course not. As a matter of fact, TK,” Tony addresses him. “meet Carlos Reyes. Carlos, this is TK Strand, a new contract player here as of,” he checks his watch, “well, about an hour ago.”

Carlos’ eyes finally meet his, a soft smile on his face as he holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure.” TK subtly wipes his own on his pant leg before reaching to grasp Carlos’. “I heard you read for the role of Sam Pryor this morning for The Monterey Room,” he says as he pulls his hand back.

“I did, yes,” TK answers despite it not being a question. He has to wonder if word simply travels fast or if Carlos himself is involved in the project.

“Well, I was in your spot not too long ago,” he says. “If there’s anything I can help with, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“That’s very kind of you.” TK smiles. “Thank you.”

“So Carlos,” Tony snaps them out of it. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Marjan wanted me to run down here quick to show you the finished look,” Carlos explains after pulling his gaze from TK. “She said she would’ve come with me herself, but Julia just got in and she’s hoping to finish her alterations by the end of the day.” 

Tony stands up to get a better look at him, slowly starting to nod. “You look like you just strolled in here from three decades ago, kid,” he smiles as he drops back down into his chair. “Perfect. Marjan really outdid herself with this one. Combined with what she’s crafted for Julia, you two are going to be all anyone’s talking about.”

“Yes, I think Marjan is understandably proud of this one,” Carlos says and TK can’t help but notice the way he ignores the insinuation that his love interest in the film could blossom beyond that.

“She ought to be,” Tony agrees, “but shouldn’t you be–”

“Tommy and Judson swung through this morning, he mentioned wanting to add a stopwatch, and I’m on my way to Paul next for the final approval,” Carlos answers his unspoken question.

“Good man.” 

TK watches the conversation bounce back and forth between them like a tennis match, picking up bits and pieces. The Julia they’re referring to must be Julia Ainsley, a darling of the studio, and apparently the lead opposite Carlos in the film that TK himself has a shot at.

“I won’t hold you up any longer,” Carlos says gesturing between the two of them. “It was nice to meet you, TK. I look forward to working with you.”

“Oh,” TK says in surprise. “It was nice to meet you, too, but I don’t know if we’ll be…”

Carlos shakes his head. “Tony wouldn’t have you in this room if you weren’t already a shoo-in for the role,” he says in a way that can only accompany a mutual respect between Tony and him. The former clicks his tongue behind TK, as if Carlos just disclosed his process and Carlos laughs before turning back to TK. “I’ve already heard your name whispered in these halls, I have no doubt you’ll make a great Sam.”

“Thank you,” TK stammers out, getting caught on the smile Carlos gives him before he leaves.

[tenkasato]

yes i do have another request,i hope I could write it too.could i request aomine spoiling reader with love when he secretly finds out that she is always filled with anxiety and sadness?thank you if u also write this too! ☺️

NONNIE I’M SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG. But here it is! It’s a little longer than my usual oneshots. I placed all my feelings into writing this piece, so I hope you enjoy this!

You stumbled out of the shower.

Water dripped from your hair as you hurriedly made your way back to your bed. Your knees felt like jelly, and you barely made it in time to collapse into your bed. Your chest felt so tight, as though there’s an invisible bar caging your torso to squeeze you, to flatten your heart until not a drop of blood is left. You tried to swallow, but all you could feel was sand coursing down your throat as a pained whimper tumbled past your lips.

Air. You needed air. Your bleary vision could make out your still opened window. The cool breeze of afternoon spring kissed your cheeks, but your lungs heaved for precious air.

No, not this again.

You’ve overcome this in the past. Now wasn’t the time to feel this way when there were so many things you’ve to be tending to.

Your breathing became shallow, faster, more panicked as thoughts raced a million miles per second in your clouded mind. Clutching your damp towel to your chest, all you could manage were shuddering breaths. You were suffocating.

“Hey, I’m back,” Aomine’s distant voice snapped your eyes open. You hurriedly jolt up from your bed in daze, hands scrambling carelessly over the thin towel you have to cover your naked body.

“Wait—” you started.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone? I—”

Aomine froze in the middle of his step into your room. You watched him like a deer caught in headlights, mouth agape at his sudden and unwanted intrusion as you pulled the towel closer. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation. Being caught by your boyfriend in the middle of your mental breakdown, naked and utterly vulnerable, was the least you wanted at the moment.

One second passed, and the next thing you knew, Aomine was by your side on his knees.

You instinctively recoiled from him, but his hand caught your wrist in lightning-fast reflexes before you could shift away. Aomine tugged you closer so he could examine your face.

“Don't look at me,” you hissed, turning away from his prying gaze.

“Calm down,” he replied instead. He reached out to cup your cheek but you bat his hand away.

“I said don’t look at me!” you yelled as you squirmed out of his metallic grip but to no avail. You flailed. You kicked. You yanked. But against his huge and well-built frame, there was little you could do, much to your vehemence.

Shivering, you tried to headbutt him in a last ditch attempt but Aomine once again saw through this. With a swift motion, he evades the assault and uses your momentum to gather you in his arms. You stiffened against him, chest quivering as you gasped for air.

“Deep breaths,” his baritone voice cut across your flurry of emotions. “Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Follow my lead.”

You gritted your teeth in mad panic, eyes burning with tears as you balled your fists around the fabric of Aomine’s sweater. Every muscle in your body went fraught with tension that clenched your limbs until they were numb.

“Inhale.” His chest rose. “Exhale.” And then fell.

A minute passed, and you felt your whole posture relaxing, your breathing coming in sync with Aomine's. Amidst the turmoil you’ve plunged into, his warmth slowly seeped into you as he gently placed a hand square at your back to rub reassuring circles on your skin.

“Inhale, exhale. You’re doing great.”

His voice was raspy, you notice. Hoarser than usual. Thicker, too. You found yourself concentrating at the timbres of his voice and the way his frame moves against yours. You didn’t know how long you stayed locked in his embrace curled like a baby, but by the time you noticed the sunlight bidding its farewell, you’ve calmed down.

You gently pushed him away, and almost immediately you remembered that there was not a thread of clothing on you. Hastily, you pulled your blanket around you. Aomine had the decency to actually look embarrassed, averting his gaze away with a barely noticeable flush on his cheeks.

"I—" you began, eyes downcast, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Aomine clicked his tongue. "What the hell are you apologizing for?"

"It's just..." and then your words broke and clattered to the floor.

Sorry. It's a word you've grown to use more often these past few days. Somehow, it's become something embedded in your instincts and even to your whole being as you went about and dealt with people and tasks.

But now when asked directly what exactly were you sorry for, you found that you couldn't come up with a decent explanation as you proceeded on fiddling with your blanket.

Aomine scratched the back of his, clearly stumped.

A gust of wind blew into your window, and that was when Aomine's face adapted a brightened expression. He reached out for your hand, then, "Get dressed."

You blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," he grinned, releasing your hand and promptly ambling over to your closet. He picked out the first set of clothes he saw and tossed them over to your bed. "Get dressed. We're going somewhere."

"But I have to finish my reports. My supervisor will kill me if I don't hand the draft by tomorrow afternoon," you argued with a shake of your head.

"It won't take long. I promise."

You held Aomine's stare for a second, noting the way he squinted his eyes with that overly cheerful smile almost haphazardly plastered on his face. Despite being a mess, you could see through the demeanor he's worn in front of you. Your boyfriend no doubt was more shaken than he let on.

You sighed and waved your hand at him, "Fine. Whatever. Let me get dressed."

Once you've clumsily slipped into your shirt and shorts, Aomine brought you two to his car. The engine revved up as you clicked your seatbelt in place. The sun was long gone. You noticed a few stars peeking out shyly from amongst the clouds.

"Where are we going?" you asked. You shifted in your seat. Feeling the buzz of discomfort, you tried to rub your chest as subtly as you could.

Aomine's eyes flickered briefly to your hand but made no mention of it. He drove the car a few blocks ahead before finally answering, "It's a surprise."

"I told you. I have to be home as soon as—"

"I got it, okay?" he grumbled with an obnoxious roll of his eyes.

You opened your mouth once again, ready to give him a piece of your mind when he pulled the windshield down. The glow of the streetlights flooded over and casted shadows on your face. There was a faint hint of barbecue wafting in the air as Aomine drove past a family restaurant. Spring breeze blew at your hair as you pulled the windows down even further. You noticed a couple of school girls giggling as they submerged themselves in conversation you couldn't hear. The boba in their hands looked really delicious.

You swallowed.

How long has it been since you've just sat to just watch things and let your mind wander?

"See that?" Aomine suddenly spoke. You turned to him as he cocked his chin to his left.

The car zoomed past a rather small street court. There wasn't anyone playing there at the moment.

"We used to play basketball there after class," he said. "Since Kise, Kagami and Tetsu are all in Tokyo, Tetsu figured that playing once a week should be a traditional thing. It took some convincing from Kise and Takao's part, but Midorima finally budged when Tetsu indirectly threatened him with his lucky item."

You smiled and was surprised at how easily you were able to do so. "Seems like fun."

"You bet it was. You should’ve seen me whoop their assess every time.”

“I bet neither of them are going to appreciate you talking like a prick.”

He barked out a laugh before turning to the left. It has grown quieter here in these parts of Tokyo. Fewer people strolled around, no doubt headed home after gruelling hours at work. When you lifted your head, your eyes met the pale luminescence of the moon as it hangs in the sky almost nonchalantly.

With a pang, you realized that Aomine didn’t have any destination in mind. You opened your mouth to ask, but he interrupted you.

“You’re not a burden, you know.”

You blinked and turned to look at Aomine. He still had his eyes glued to the street.

“I don’t understand.”

A sigh left his mouth. “You’re not a burden to me, or anyone for that matter. If anything, you do too much for people.”

“You don’t know that,” you said.

“Trust me, I know,” he retorted, steel in his voice. “Look, if I try to enumerate all the things you’ve done for me, it will take me until tomorrow. You get my point here? I don’t know what else you’re going through, so I can only try to support you in whatever way I can. There’s nothing wrong about asking for help when you need it.”

“Aomine-kun,” you whispered, heart swelling with a pleasant ache you couldn’t help but flash him a brittle yet joyful smile. “I—I don’t exactly want to talk about it yet, but I’m thankful of you… for putting up with me.”

“I should thank you, too. I’m such an asshole at times even I’m surprised, but you deal with me with so much grace even Akashi would be put to shame.”

The streetlight blinked red, and Aomine gently stepped on the brakes. He reached for your hand, your fingers engulfed by his larger ones. They were cold, you noticed, so you squeezed harder.

“Rely on me just as I want to rely on you,” he said. “Alright?”

Aomine’s lips curled up a quarter of an inch. You tried to memorize every detail of his expressions. The softness in those eyes. The firm set of his jaw. The tenderness in his usually callous way of speaking.

You nodded before dipping down to leave a kiss on his hand.

“Hey,” he spluttered, suddenly flustered.

You smirked coyly as the green light blinked. You averted your eyes back to the road and said, “Let’s go, Aomine-kun.”

Hey guys, just a little bit of sharing. I’ve seen patients in the out-patient department in the hospital who come with symptoms of anxiety. It’s never an easy battle. Please, don’t be afraid to seek help if you think you need it. People are here and ready to help. And most of all, you matter, okay? You matter. Take care everyone! God bless you.

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?"  The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?"  Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of  Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 1 - Boy’s Night Out

“Okay,” Dick boomed, bringing the room’s attention to himself.  “Weapons on the counter.”  He raised an eyebrow at the disgruntled objections around the room.  “We are going out to have fun.  We are not going to take guns or knives or arrows to the bar. This is a night off.  This night is to relax and blow off steam.  Boy’s night out.”

“Having a gun does relax me!” Jason mumbled around the bite of apple in his mouth.

“Naw, it’s the shooting that relaxes you,” Roy pointed out shoving his head away as he walked past him.

“No guns!”  Dick grabbed the gun out of Jason’s thigh holster as he passed by and tossed it onto the counter.

“Hey!” Jason yelled, grabbing Dick’s shirt and violently pulling him back to face Jason.  “Don’t touch my guns.”

Dick held his hands up in surrender and waited quietly for Jason to let go.  Once Jason had backed off and taken another bite of his apple, Dick shook his head.  “See that there, is exactly why we need a night out and no weapons.  I expect all weapons on this counter before we walk out that door.”  He stared Jason and Roy down.

“Why are we going to a club if we just want to talk?” Tim pointed out with a defeated sigh.  “Loud music, people bumping into you, lights flashing… not the ideal atmosphere for talking.”

“We’re also blowing off steam and a distraction while we talk so Jason doesn’t get bored and start fighting is not a bad idea,” Dick pointed out.  “Which brings us back to no weapons.”

Jason huffed and walked over to the counter keeping eye contact with Dick as he started removing his knife and his backup knife and his small knife and his backup gun and laid them on the counter one at a time.  “Thank you, Jason.  Roy?”  

Roy sighed and removed his knife and a gun. Dick raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.  “What?  I’m not a paranoid asshole like him.” He motioned to Jason.

“Tim?” Dick questioned with a stern look.

“Like I carry weapons on me when I’m not in the suit,” he scoffed.

Dick stared him down waiting for him to admit having weapons.  When Tim didn’t fold under his stare, Dick nodded and looked back to the group.  “Fine.” He reached behind him to pull off his tee shirt, throwing it over the back of the couch and grabbing a button up shirt instead.  

Tim stared at the shirt he put on as he buttoned it.  “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah… what?  I like it.”

Jason opened his mouth to comment but instead glared at Roy when he smacked him upside the head to stop him from saying what they all were thinking.  "If Wally were here, you'd let him say it," he muttered.

"Well, Wally's sick isn't he?  So he's not here." Roy muttered back.

Dick looked between them and finally gave up waiting.  He shook his head and moved to the door.  “Let’s go. We’re going to hang out, drink, dance, and have fun.”

“And get laid,” Roy cheered.

“Not about getting laid,” Dick singsonged as he walked through the door.  

“But we’re totally going to,” Roy whispered to Jason.  “Well, we,” he motioned between himself and Jason, “are going to.  Tim’s boy is out of town and Dick’s on his own with that shirt.”

“Whatever, I just can’t believe he thought those were my only weapons,” Jason scoffed.

“Or that I didn’t have any,” Tim agreed.  “Either we’re getting better or he’s getting worse.”

<><><><><> 

The bar was more crowded than they expected, but they had still been able to find a table far away from the dancefloor where they could actually talk and watch the other patrons while they drank.  

“Dick, we need another round,” Roy pointed out, motioning toward the bar.

“And?” Dick scoffed not even looking at him, keeping his eyes on the dancefloor instead.  

“And we want the drinks now not in an hour,” Jason retorted quickly.

“We all know if any of us go it’s completely hit and miss when the bartender acknowledges us and with the bar as busy as it is, it could take a while.  But every time you go up, he makes a beeline straight for you.” Tim continued flatly.

“Heh, straight,” Roy chuckled.  

Dick rolled his eyes but got up anyway.  “Fine. I’ll just buy all night long.”

“Now that’s what I call a good night out,” Jason cheered, holding his beer up toasting Dick.  “Get me two.”

Dick pushed through the crowd and finally settled into a spot leaning against the bar.  As soon as he appeared, the bartender made his way over to him, bypassing patrons who had been waiting since before he got there.  Dick sighed at the proof the others were right. He ordered their drinks with a smile. No use upsetting the man pouring their drinks and controlling whether they got served or not.

He looked up and down the bar while he waited for their drinks.  His eyes caught on a woman a few people down from him.  She was waiting patiently and gorgeously for her drink.  Her dark hair was pulled up in a high bun, but tendrils had fallen around her face from vigorous dancing.  Her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat and her long-sleeved, bright blue crop top looked like it was meant to flutter lightly over her top but instead it clung to her sweat-covered body as she moved, occasionally giving a flash of the black bra underneath.  She was flushed from dancing giving her a luminescent look.  But the thing that truly drew his attention was her smile.  She had the most gorgeous, welcoming, exuberant smile on her face.  It lit up her whole face, causing her eyes to crinkle.

He started to push away from the bar to talk to her when he saw a man drape his arms over her shoulders. His head was positioned so the back of his head was blocking Dick’s view of her face so he couldn’t see if her expression was happy about the intrusion or upset, and his yellow and red shirt that hung loosely off him blocked Dick's view of her body language.  Dick leaned back against the bar, but kept an eye on her in case the embrace was not welcome.  How bad was it that he kind of hoped it wasn’t?  However, it quickly became apparent that it was not unwelcome.  “Come on Bugaboo, let’s get back out there.  I want to have fun tonight.  Maybe find someone to finally make out with me.”  

The woman rolled her eyes at him.  “Adrien, almost anyone here would make out with you.  Straight men would make out with you if you asked.”  She and the man nodded to the bartender in thanks when he dropped off their shots.

“It can’t just be anyone though.  I’m looking for a sign.  I’m waiting for the universe to show me my future.”  He stretched out his hand in front of him as if showing off his future.

“In a nightclub that is probably a front for one of the mob families,” she deadpanned.  He shrugged at her.  “I cannot stress enough how much that’s not how this whole thing works.  The universe isn’t going to give you a sign, especially not in a dive bar while you’re drunk.  You make your own destiny, my child, this isn’t Serendipity.  Now, drink,” she commanded.  

Dick watched as they clinked their glasses together and downed the shots before returning to the dancefloor.  His eyes followed her as she started dancing.  He hummed to himself, clearly together but not together.   Their boy’s night had been going on long enough, hadn’t it?  They had been talking long enough that it would be acceptable for him to get on the dancefloor himself soon, right?  He hummed to himself.  He might have to try to find her later.  He tore his eyes away when the bartender brought his drinks.  He winked at the bartender in thanks and returned to their table.

He brought the drinks back to the table, joking and reminiscing with the three of them.  The point was to get closer to each other, after all.  All throughout their conversation, he kept an eye on the bar for the woman he had seen earlier.  The next time she went up to get a drink, Dick excused himself to get one as well. They were close enough.  He wanted to get closer to someone else now.  The others at the table raised their eyebrows, giving each other knowing looks.

By the time he made his way through the crowd to get near the bar, the woman was facing off against a man who was easily twice her size and mostly muscle. “Hey, asshole!  Back off!”  

“Excuse me?  What the fuck business is it of yours?” he growled, crowding her personal space in an effort to intimidate her.

The woman clearly didn’t get the message, furrowing her brows in an angry glare.  “Grabbing someone’s ass and attempting to grab other areas as well without their permission is sexual assault, fucker!  She clearly does not know you and does not want you touching her.”

“You have no proof of anything,” he snarled at her.  “Now sit that pretty, tight, little ass down and maybe I’ll let you kneel in front of me a little later.”

The woman’s mouth dropped as she stared at the man.  “Yep, that’s the expression you’ll be making later.”  He reached to pat her on her ass.  Dick lunged to grab his hand before he could reach her, but he was just a beat too slow.  Instead, the woman grabbed the man’s hand and twisted along with his momentum, pushing him down as she twisted.  She moved her feet slightly to trip him, throwing him even further off balance.  She twisted his arm at an uncomfortable angle as he fell, forcing him to turn over on his stomach so she could pin him to the floor once he finally landed.  “Also, sexual assault?  Illegal, asshole.  Doing it to more people, surprisingly, doesn’t make it less illegal.”

“It isn’t sexual assault if you want it,” he jeered at her.

She scoffed at him, making sure to keep the pressure on her hold as she did.  “I doubt there has ever been anything living or otherwise that has wanted you looking at them let alone touching them.”  Dick chuckled at her response.

“Excuse me, what is going on here?”  A man Dick recognized as the bouncer asked.  He was eying the woman who was pinning the man down with heavy suspicion.

“That man sexually assaulted that woman and when this woman pointed it out he tried to sexually assault her as well,” Dick answered for her.

The bouncer looked between the first woman, the second woman, the man on the floor, and Dick.  He finally nodded and grabbed the man by his jacket collar.  “Come on mother fucker, we’re going to get your picture then you are never coming in here again, understood?”

“Do you know who I am? You’re making a monumental mistake,” the man screamed as he was getting dragged away.

The black haired woman didn’t bother watching the man as he was hauled away.  She shifted her focus entirely onto the blonde woman who had been assaulted.  “Hey, are you okay?  Can I get you a drink to steady your nerves?”

The blonde shook her head. “No, thanks.  I’m okay.  It happens. You go to a club, it’s going to happen.”

The black haired woman and Dick both gaped at her.  “It shouldn’t happen ever.  If anyone ever does anything like that to you again, kick their asses or call someone over to do it for you.  He had no right to touch you.  Going out to have fun doesn’t make you an open target,” Dick interceded.  “Assholes like that should feel unsafe in clubs not you.”

The blonde shrugged at him. “Thanks for your help anyway.  Can I buy you a drink?”

The black haired woman shook her head and gave her a gentle smile.  “No, thank you.  I just refreshed mine.  Have fun, yeah?”  The blonde nodded and waved before returning to the dancefloor.

The black haired woman collapsed onto a barstool with a sigh.  She chuckled and shook her head as she looked at her drink.  “Thank you by the way.  I don’t know if the bouncer would have trusted just my word.”

“Not a problem.” He took a seat next to her.  “I’m glad I could do something to help.  I tried to grab him before he could get to you but I wasn’t as fast as you.  You were really impressive.”

She shot him a glance from the corner of her eye but didn’t really stop to look at him.  The charming smile he shot her faltered when she didn’t look close enough to actually see it.  His liquor fueled mind frowned at the lack of attention.    “Thanks,” she mumbled.  She drank the rest of her drink in one gulp, which Dick thought was quite impressive considering it was full and not a shot.  

She laid the glass on the counter harder than it seemed like she meant to and continued to stare at it for a few moments.  “Hey,” he leaned a little closer to her while still giving her space.  “You okay?  You want another drink?” He motioned to the bartender for two more drinks for them.  

She rubbed her face and took a beat before turning to finally face him with a thankful smile.  “You really don’t have to.”  

Dick’s charming smile made it back to his lips, even wider than it had been before.  “No, but you deserve it for protecting the club.”

She shook her head.  “It wasn’t…”  She looked down at his shirt and balked, staring at it suspiciously. After a few moments, she looked up toward the sky with an annoyed scowl that still looked adorable, like an irritated kitten.  “Am I a joke to you?” she called out.  

His charming smile morphed into a look of confusion.  “I’m sorry?”

She waved her arms like she was waving away the concern.  “It’s nothing.  Interesting shirt.  Fan of ladybugs?”

He looked down at his shirt as though seeing it for the first time, “Oh… uh… I just liked the pattern. I don’t think I would have even recognized them as a ladybug if you hadn’t explicitly pointed it out.”  The woman looked back up toward the sky with a menacing look he didn’t quite understand.  He thanked the bartender when he served their drinks and turned back to her.  “Do you… uh… like ladybugs?”  

The woman gave a defeated sigh and looked down to her shoes.  When she looked back up, a resigned but amused smile was on her lips.  “No, it’s just… my friends used to call me their everyday ladybug.”

Dick cocked his head to the side studying her curiously.  There was something going on, but he couldn’t quite make it out yet.  But there was no way he was going to miss an opportunity to dance with a beautiful, strong, sweet woman.  “I’m Dick.” He stuck his hand out to shake hers.

She took his hand and gave him a bright smile, “Marinette.”

He looked over to the dancefloor and back to her.  “Do you want to dance?”  Her smile brightened, making his heartbeat pick up.  She pulled on the hand she was still holding and guided him onto the dancefloor, drinks still in hand.

Chapter 2

@dickinette-february

[legends-live-in-memories]

Focus On Me

i want yall to pretend i dont have outstanding wips i need to finish lmao. Have this instead:

Dickinette One-shot 1.9K words

Summary: 

“Dick is pissed as hell after arguing with Bruce.

His solution? Go to an underground fight club to get the shit beaten out of him.”

without further ado

Richard Grayson was many things. He was a professional acrobat. He was a dedicated vigilante. Son of freaking Batman himself. And now? Now he was pissed as hell. The fallout between him and Bruce wasn’t supposed to get this bad. Wasn’t supposed to go on this long. The radio silence was deafening and the cold shoulder burned hotter than any flaming hoop he jumped through as a kid. He knew Bruce had issues about Dick’s decision but that had nothing to do with his capabilities as a vigilante and everything to do with Bruce’s own fears and insecurities. Thinking about it just gets him riled up and he keeps replaying the harsh words they threw at each other before fists started flying too.

He needs to get out of his head for a few hours before he plans what his next move is. No. He needed to get out of his head, yes, but he needs to breathe and maybe punch someone who he doesn’t fear disappointing or someone who hasn’t dumped a ferry’s load of emotional bullshit on him. Planning what comes next can have the decency to at least wait a week. 

Trying to distract himself, he went to an underground boxing club he discovered when he was sixteen. The club was deep in the East End, hidden between the Black Bass Bar and 83rd Street. He’s been sneaking there every now and again when he wanted the time to recenter himself and get grounded before facing the world. It was therapeutic, the bruising knuckles, the blistered lips, the burning sweat in his eyes. It was rough, jaded and unpolished. Everything he wasn’t allowed to be. 

He snuck in through the regular back entrance that was reserved for fighters. The air reeked of tequila and piss and cigarettes. He could already hear the cacophony of roars and jeers from the club’s patrons as a match went on in the center ring. Making his way to the side of the ring to put his name into the bracket, he sees the current fight come to a close with a knockout. The poor guy was lying limply with a twisted ankle and a suspiciously dark bruise forming on his left side. The mat is soiled with blood, spit and what was possibly bile in one corner. Dick swung his gaze over to the fighter left standing. 

His breath feels punched out as he takes in the absolute powerhouse before him. A lean figure clad in simple matching black spandex and sports bra that left nothing to the imagination. Her bare feet were bruised and taped in seemingly random places but Dick recognised an arch to them that was only achieved through professional dancing or gymnastics. She was light on her feet, strong on her toes. Chiseled abs that put Superman to shame were marred by scars on pale skin and a fresh bandage over what could possibly be a recent stab wound resting near her hip. He eyed her wrapped fists that were caked in blood and dirt as she flexed and curled her fingers repeatedly. 

If he was left breathless by her physique then her face left him dead and buried. Bold blue eyes narrowed in concentration with her busted lips curled up in a sneer. Her cheeks were flushed and her entire face was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her hair is pulled back into a regular ponytail with loose strands framing her face. Her hair, pure black, except for bleached blonde ends, looks greasy and unkept, highlighting her lack of care regarding her appearance. Her shoulders are hiked up to her ears and her muscles twitch and flex with pent up energy. She carries herself like someone who’s addicted to pain and the worst parts of themselves, desperate for a quick fix; the perfect reflection for how he feels right now.  Dick can’t wait to get in the ring.

“I’ll pay you $50 to get me in the ring with her right now.” He turned his neck to the fight coordinator who was counting a wad of cash. The balding man barely looked at him and just held out his hand for the payment. Dick couldn’t get his money out fast enough and before he even confirmed that he was the next fight, he was already taking his shirt off and going between the rope barriers to the floor.

The loser of the last fight was being dragged off with no concern for his well-being, while the victor stood off to the side guzzling some water. She barely side-eyes him, a quick sweep of her eyes without turning to face him, and he already feels himself flushing hot from the attention. He preens and starts stretching out his shoulders, rolling his ankles and warming up his legs at the same time. 

He barely registers the presence of the announcer, ears filled with cotton and eyes narrowing at his opponent. He looks for weaknesses, anything that would get him an edge, as he crouches into a starting position. Her wound is an obvious target and she’s short enough for easy face and neck shots. Hair pulling is also an option if he feels particularly brutish. She mirrors his stance, crouch closer to her feet and legs wider to increase lunging distance, and the full force of her gaze almost bowls him over. His eyes harden into ice shards, not willing to be swayed by twin pools of blue fire. The bell dings. He charges.

He swings an uppercut that just grazes her chin and she recoils, spins back and jabs an elbow in his ribs. He grabs her by the same elbow and twists his wrist. She twinges in pain but the hold doesn’t last long. She follows the rotation of her arm and faces him. He smells faint traces of beer on her lips and his mind swims. Pain erupts in his nose as she smashes her forehead into him. She kicks into his knee and sweeps his other leg out from underneath him. She clasps her fists together and drives them into the protruding knobs of his spine, ramming him into her awaiting knee. She moves to pin him and he uses this to his advantage. He grabs the arm that was about to press into his throat and spins her around on top of him, his chest to her back. He locks one leg around hers and cants his weight to the side, pinning her face first into the disgusting mat; he completely blankets her with his much larger body. This position doesn’t hold for long either. She still has an arm free and she uses it to punch into the side of his head. It’s not a particularly strong hit, but with the pain in his nose, and his brain feeling like it’s underwater, it is enough to disorient him and she pushes him off by her hips. 

Her narrow escape lights a fire under his skin and he reaches to grapple for her again. She slips away, again, and stands. He scurries to stand as well and immediately ducks from a leg swinging for his ribs. 

“What brings you here?” Dick almost gets whiplash from how fast he has to move. He was not expecting her to engage in conversation, much less initiate it. But she doesn’t sound malicious, just curious, and she pauses in her assault in attacks to display how genuine she was.

“Same as everyone else,” he says. He swings right for her head and follows left when she ducks, knocking her in her shoulder. “I want to pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist and get slapped around for a while. You?”

She snickers at his honesty and drops into a leg sweep. He jumps over the leg but clearly she was expecting it. She rides her momentum into a roundhouse that knocks him flat as he descends. She doesn’t hesitate and charges to pin him again. 

He lets her.

“Why does someone as pretty as you want to risk ruining that nice face of yours?” Her face is close, much closer than this pin requires but he doesn’t want to push her away. But the show must go on so he kicks her in the stomach, digging his toe into her bandaged side to get her off. She recoils like a snake about to spring and regards him with cold resentment. She clearly doesn’t like the reminder of her injuries. 

“I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart. What’s a lovely lady like you doing here getting down and dirty with the local dogs?” She is many things he regards, but lovely is not one of them. ‘Stray cat’ would better describe the scrappy woman before him. The address sets her on edge and he almost regrets describing her as such. Almost. Her next series of punches have him on the defensive and he’s pushed back all the way until he feels the ropes rubbing into the bare skin of his back. The flurry of sensations is exhilarating. Suddenly it’s too much and not enough. He ducks the next punch and grabs both wrists. He made the mistake the first time and knows better now. She won’t escape him unless he lets her. Not one to be outdone, she pulls one more trick out. She doesn’t resist his grip and instead leans up closer to his ear. Her chest is pressed flush against him and he knows she’s tipping just to reach him. Her lips, damp with sweat and cooling blood, brush against his ear and a weight settles at the base of his spine.

“Got a firm grip there?” her voice is soft, almost delicate, and he almost doesn’t register the question. His tongue feels like lead and his mouth has run dry; his brain can’t make the right connections to form words. He tightens his hold on her as an answer instead. She gets it though because she chuckles a swift ‘Good’ before she’s leaping and bracing her feet against his stomach. She leans back and uses her weight to pull them both to the ground, then she lifts her feet and flips him over. His fingers loosen and she slips out of his hold again. She follows the momentum of her roll and sits firmly on his hips, one leg pinning each of his down. She grabs both of his wrists in her small hand and uses the other to tip his chin back, his skull crashing into the mat harshly, blunt nails digging into his skin.

Her face looms over his, again closer than is strictly necessary, and she smirks at him. Her tongue peaks out and swipes at the sweat above her upper lip. He holds his breath, waiting to hear what she has to say next. His patience doesn’t reward him that satisfaction, however. A ding echoes into the room, cutting through the shouts and growls of their captive audience. She won. 

Her victorious smile is a thing of beauty, he can’t really lament his loss. Before he could overthink and get lost in his head he takes a dive headfirst and gives into his impulses.

“I’m Richard Grayson. Call me Dick.” He sounds breathless and rung out. 

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” her name is perfect like her. She releases his arms and moves to get off him. She offers a hand to help him up and he takes it. Before he could say something stupid she continues her introduction.

“You can call me Nette. I hope to see you next week.”

She will.

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

I’m the same anon who requested that collar whump and 🙌 it was so good!!!! if you want to go more whumpy I encourage it!!! The only limit I have is please no explicit smut. I’m fine with implied/referenced just not explicit. Otherwise you can go wild!!! I’d totally love to see it!!! thank you so much!! 💞💞💞

Awwh! I'm so super happy that you liked it, that pleases me greatly to know that it was enjoyable! I insist, for your kind words let me treat you to something extra whumpy!

Limits understood! Let's crank up the whump button and keep that 'too familiar' with Whumpee going. Mind if I add a pinch of obsession into that intimate whumper? You know, as a treat because you deserve it anon! Rewinding time a bit, this is before the first post.

(Tags/TW: Collar whump, Intimate Male Whumper, Female Whumpee, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsession whump, Choking, Hanging, Swinging by neck, Neck whump, Broken bones, Noncon touching, referenced/implied noncon, Hot/Cold Whumper, Hair pulling, Drugging, Cursing/strong language, Vampire whump. )

"You were too naive, you know that?" Whumper stated, hand gripping a flawless face and watching pretty, gemstone eyes roll in their sockets. "You never saw me, all this time, watching you from afar."

"I hoped you'd notice, I really did. I was so messy a couple of times, I ran right into you and somehow you never even saw me." It almost sounded pained, the way Whumper said it. Thick with emotion as his grip on her jaw became more violent and drew her out of the haze.

"I don't know if I should be insulted... Or happy you're so oblivious to the world around you."

As soon as Whumpee made it through the fog, her features pinched in a grimace and the sight before her wasn't one she'd expected. She recognized him but couldn't place him anywhere, her mind telling her she'd definitely seen him before.

"But you're here now... and you're going to be my pet now. No one will ever know I didn't buy you, I made sure of it." The more he rambled, the more infatuated he became with touching her. First her shoulder, now he was holding her hand, bringing it to his lips for a clammy, tacky kiss.

"Y-You're all mine," He was frantic, panicked as if he was both excited and terrified for what he was actually doing. Having kidnapped and tranquilized her thus far.

"Like.. hell I am.." She rasped, watching him fight off a chuckle and lose almost instantly.

"Hah- You're not going to have a choice. I'm your Master and pets obey their masters." Whumper insisted, reaching for a collar that had been already chained up to a pipe in the basement ceiling. "I'm going to teach you how to behave down here first, then w-wh-when you're broken in, yeah? Then.. Then I'll let you upstairs like a real pet."

He grabbed her up by the hair and she flew into fight or flight as soon as she was lifted off the ground. He was big, she'd give him that. Tall, probably 6'4 and he definitely worked out and enjoyed his carbs at the same time.

She was on the shorter side, but she knew how to use her weight and no matter the tension on her hair; she wormed her whole body to wrench away from him. The force was messy, her system still getting used to the hazy, limpness in her limbs.

"Bad!" He growled in resonating anger, using the grip on her scalp to slam her head into the wall. The first obviously dazed her and the second left her stilling. "You're gonna wear your fucking collar! L-Like a good pet!"

She looked at him with stars in her vision and pain seeping from the back of her head, features cracking with lines of hatred. She could smell it, her skin had split open on the poorly constructed brick wall and it stung when it started fusing back together from her healing speed.

She couldn't let him know just how her body worked or she feared the worst of his wrath. He really seemed like a horror movie villain at this point, the way he stuttered and looked at her with such blatant, scrutinizing attention.

"T-Thats too high, take it down and I'll wear it." She tried to reason, feeling one of his hands grab around the front of her neck while the other repositioned in her hair.

"It's not training if it's not painful.. what would you learn from just wearing a collar?" He questioned, tone acidic like she was a moron for even thinking of suggesting such a thing.

Those damned drugs did her in, if only she'd been at full strength when he tried again to wrestle her over and up to the collar he had waiting on her. She could have thrown him across the room, easily, if he hadn't somehow managed to subdue her. Now it was a struggle to keep herself on the ground as the muscular human kept taking her footing away from her.

She kicked and kicked and even when she landed contact with his legs, she knew it wasn't strong enough to even pull a reaction from him. He eventually won, hoisting her up and latching the thick, chain collar around her neck to entrap her with her own weight. It was just in distance to let the tips of her outstretched toes barely brush the ground.

"There, now you can squirm all you want, you'll just go swinging." He mused, giving her a push by her hips and watching her uselessly grip above her in the swing.

She felt like at any moment, her neck would snap, a grinding sound in her bones giving a warning creak when she reached the highest point. Her vocal chords were ruthlessly crushed against the curvature of the chain and she couldn't stop the faux spasms she felt in long-deadened lungs. It felt like she was a human again, drowning or being smothered, only she hadn't needed real air in decades.

Choking gurgles of begging barely registered past how hard he'd started laughing. She was like a chandelier in a living room that a mischievous housemate knocked into. Swinging in whatever pattern or direction gravity took her until she learned that she'd only stop if she went still.

Finally whumper stopped her and grabbed her backside to lift her up against him, holding her face to face with a devious smile across his face. "You're l-like a piñata. It's kind of cute."

Her hands flew up and in a sound clap, cupped his ears in a deafening impact. Immediately his head started to ring and he dropped her with such force she nearly slammed into him again on the downswing.

Whumper covered his ears and shoved fingers in them, anxiously feeling for blood and unable to hear anything but an ambient whine. He was furious and the stunning pain left him staggering back a few paces to let her endure the remaining momentum. The faintest of garbled blubbering could be heard and it was his only hope that he hadn't been completely deafened.

"You stupid bitch.." He roared, louder than he'd realized in his current state. "Y-You just lost your fucking hands!"

A vicious latch onto one of her arms and his opposite hand grabbed her wrist, twisting and wrenching it beyond it's natural pivot. She grabbed onto his wrists, nails dug in but couldn't stop the force he'd held her with.

The crack was agonizing, it popped so many times and she would have vomited if not for the noose around her neck. The limb instantly radiated pain and fell limp, unable to hold upright on the destroyed joint. Muffled cries were distant to him and even though he was looking her in the face, she sounded soft.

She'd stopped swinging when he grabbed her second arm and gave the faintest of tugs back from his menacing grip. Begging, pleading without shaking her head or making a single noise.

He ignored it. Snapping the second joint in a long twist and the satisfaction that he had with the feeling of breaking a bone was maddening. He savored it, giving an extra roll this time and really feeling the damage he'd done inside her skin.

"I bet you'll behave for me now, wont you?" He picked her up once more, this time leaving space between their upper halves in hesitation. When she left her hands at her sides, he was pleased with the progress they'd already made.

"God, even when you're in pain and have spit all down your face, you're still pretty." Whumper praised, taking his hold on her a bit easier now, lifting her up by the backs of her thighs and encouraging them to wrap around his waist for reprieve.

They did, as disgusting as it felt it relieved the tension on her neck and she was almost grateful in just that short time alone.

He pet her head fondly now, pushing down the strands he'd frizzed and upset and he pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe her mouth. Her lips hung open like she was panting but no breath escaped her, throat desperately trying to clear with small growls and hacks.

"I've never seen you blush until now, I feel special." Whumper pushed her bangs back and returned down her face with a loving sweep while holding her; thumb tracing her lower lip.

"I can't believe you're finally all mine. I get to keep you forever and ever and... You can't escape me anymore." As if his mind was looping through all the times he'd thought about her or thought about kidnapping her, he stared into her eyes blankly.

Even if she didn't remember, he certainly did. Every encounter, every time he'd sent her a drink at the bar and been to shy to say something. When she flat out rejected him for a dance. The time she'd gotten in a taxi with him and he didn't say anything to her. The week he'd paid for her coffee in the drive thru, strategically, every day getting ahead of her in line.

It had all been worth it.

"You can't reject me anymore. You can't hide.. or brush me off or ignore the gifts I get you." The more he rambled, he less he was looking at her and the more he was looking through her. He framed her body, wrapped along her curves with a curious hand. He abandoned the hold and let her support herself when he couldn't handle not touching her with both of them.

"Now.. I can finally love you how you deserve.."

-

Sorry it took me so long to get to this anon! I hope this is respectful of your wishes and not too much towards the descriptive side. I also tried to go with the same tropes you'd requested but just make it more miserable. ; ^ ;

I know there is a very thin border to intimate whump and it can transition beyond the boundaries very easily. So if you have any critiquing or things to avoid that could help in the future, I'd love to know so I can gain some more versatility. I would (ideally) love to be able to cater to all requests in all forms and insight will only help me with that goal.

Another apology for the wait. Had some personal life stuff come up and wasn't in the feelings to write much. But I'm back on the rise and I'm hoping to get to everyone's messages and requests within the next few days.

I will not be doing first come first serve, I'm just doing whatever inspires me with this batch. Sorry if anyone thinks that's unfair, it's just how it is for me as a writer. This is 1 out of 7 asks and I don't even remember which ones came first because I immediately convert them into drafts. : ( But thank you so much for the req! Hope you enjoyed. <3

[dreamingofaizawa]

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here. 

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

*

*

*

You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely. 

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out. 

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing. 

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered. 

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall. 

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact. 

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender. 

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you. 

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar. 

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours. 

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

?:

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You: 

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly. 

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid. 

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

*

*

*

When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm. 

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place. 

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt. 1

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Violence, explicit language, I’m sure this will get worse as we go

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list. 

a/n: this is my first fic and it's taken me near a year to get the balls to write and post it. I would like to make this a series or drabble series if people seem interested in reading more. Please let me know if you like it :) 

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

Let’s start from the beginning. Which was the night you saved the maknae’s life.

You were leaving your late-night shift at 929, the convenience store you worked at. The job, like the rest of your college experience, wasn’t in any way glamourous. But the owners were nice, and since it was a 24-hour store, it was easy to get hours despite your demanding college schedule; if you were willing to sacrifice sleep. It was a heavy stock day, so you were getting out later than planned, but you lived less than a mile from your apartment, so you didn’t mind the walk back.

Something was comforting about walking the 7th ward at 3 a.m. when the streets are the quietest. The late-night crowd from the gambling halls and bars always seem to turn in around 2, and the more motivated hustlers tend to wake up at 4 to get a head start on their day. The hour of 3 a.m. was a 60 minute breath of fresh air where few people roamed the streets. A common hour where criminals and businessmen alike hugged their pillows. 

A chill lingered in the air the way it always does after a big rainstorm, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. By the look of the sidewalks, you were going to get your socks wet on the walk home, thanks to the weakening seems on your only pair of boots.

You kept your pepper spray in one hand and your phone in your pocket as you made your way down the street. Just because 3 a.m. was a quieter hour did not mean it was safe, especially in the 7th ward. Staying aware of your surroundings gave people less of a chance to sneak up on you, so you didn’t check your phone or listen to music. You made yourself stare strait ahead and walk confidently. Seeming like more trouble than you or your wallet is worth, is one of your primary forms of self-defense on nights like these.  

When you moved out of the university dorms after your freshman year, you told your family of your plans to share a house with a few friendly classmates in the quiet suburbs outside the city where it was safer, and that seemed to quell their worries. And as long as they weren’t worried about you, you were okay with lying to them. 

Because you didn’t live in the suburbs with friendly classmates, you very much lived alone in a shitty apartment where you were fairly certain all your neighbors were drug dealers. But your landlord Mrs.Rita doesn’t seem to mind at all. To your knowledge, the location was in a gang neutral territory, so you didn’t need to worry about any raids or shootings that you hear talk of so often on the bus or at work. 

You have lived in the 7th ward for the better part of three years. It was one of the dirtiest and most dangerous parts of the city capital, a place where gangs, drugs, violence, ruled the streets. 

It was also the cheapest place to live and only a 20-minute commute from your university by public transport.

When you first got accepted into university, your parents were as happy for you as they were worried. The university had one of the top medical programs in the world, and to be accepted on scholarship was an honor even they couldn't overlook, but living across the ocean in a different country meant they lived with no peace of mind. 

So you always kept your letters and phone calls short and pleasant. You never complained or let them know of any struggles you were having because the moment they got word of your hardships, they would latch onto that and convince you to come home. 

You hadn’t made it eight blocks from the store when you heard someone cry out. It was a strangled sound that made you freeze in your tracks before it was quickly cut short.

The silence was accompanied by a low thud that made your stomach drop. Your heart pounded in your ears as possibilities raced through your mind. It could be some restless teens goofing off late at night, it could be something you can just stroll pass without a problem, but it was equally likely that it wasn’t. And you didn’t know what to do about that risk. 

You debated turning around and going back to the store and hiding out for an hour or two until whatever happened settled down.

It was the sound of another cry out that broke you from the worrying debate as your instincts sent you flying in the direction of the sound. Because apparently, your instincts aren’t here to keep you alive. 

You turned the corner and peered down the alley where the commotion was coming from to be met by a set of thugs corning a young boy. The thugs turned at the sound of your shoes scraping against the asphalt and sneered at you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You demanded as you took in the scene of two men and met eyes with the young boy with wide doe eyes who was pinned to the wall by the largest man in the group. 

The boy had what looked to be the start of a black eye and a small trickle of blood running from his split lip. He looked a few years younger than you, and by the looks of the brand name on the sleeve of his shirt, he had no reason to be in this part of town. 

“Keep walking, sweetheart before you see something you don’t want to,” one of the men, who was covered in tattoos, growled. 

You felt your legs tremble as part of you wished to listen to him.

 “Leave him alone,” you pushed in a voice that was much weaker than you intended.

 What were you doing? Did you have a deathwish?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the tattoos questioned voicing your own thoughts as his scrawny partner pushed off the wall stalked towards you.

 “Do you think this going to go well for you?” Scrawny taunted as he closed the distance. You stepped back, making sure to keep your back to the mouth of the alleyway to avoid getting cornered to the wall. 

“Get out of here,” the boy warned, you spared him a look to see Tattoos kneed him in the gut. 

The boy's face twisting in pain served distraction enough for Scrawny to charge toward you and shove you toward the wall before you could react. 

“I thought we told you to scram '' he sneered in an oily voice. One of his hands that was backing your figure against the wall reaching up to tug at a strand of your hair, “Or does a tiny thing like you want to play the hero?” you felt his hot breath on your face as he crowded you.

 An involuntary squeak slipped from your lips, and your heart pounded as your mind begged you to do something quickly. You gripped the pepper spray tighter in your grip forcing yourself to react. 

Before Scrawny could make another move, you held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut, wedging your arm between the two of you and pulling the trigger on your pepper spray while simultaneously bringing your knee up between his legs. 

You yelped in pain as Scrawny pushed away from you, taking a lock of your hair with him, but forced your mouth to stay shut as he and howled in pain. A string of coughs and curses mixing in as he inhaled the pepper spray.

Opening your eyes to water in the residue of the mace in the air, you realized you must have hit your target because the man was no longer on his feet and slowly curling into a ball on the ground still hacking out a lung. 

Tattoo’s cursed under his breath and pulled the boy off the wall by his shirt and slammed his body into the brick twice in frustration. 

“I have to do everything around here!” He rorared. The sound of the boys body impacting aginst the wall echoed in the alley with Tatto’s scream. 

Tatto’s reached in his back pocked and with a flick of the wrist displayed a wicked blade as the boy blinked up at him dazed. 

You screamed out in horror. Desperate to get the man away from the boy, you pulled your shoe off your foot and lobbed it at the back of Tatto’s head. 

With a growl, he released the boy who crumpled to the ground before turning his attention to you.  

He looked down at the ground making a point to slowly toe your limp boot out of his path with a low chuckle before prowling forward a preditor cornering his prey.

 You found his intimidation tactic to be very effective, you body telling him as much as you raised your pepper spray between you, hand trembling. 

The man barked a laugh. “Go ahead, sweetheart, I put that stuff on my eggs for breakfast,” he taunted. 

Under normal circumstances, you would call bullshit, but right now as he stalked towards you, you were willing to believe such an unorthodox diet. 

Please be a thug and not a rapist, you found yourself begging in the back of your mind as he slapped the can out of your hand before you could even press down on the trigger. 

“Now, I don’t like cutting up pretty girls,  but you’re leaving me no choice sweetheart.” he warned as he crowded your space. 

With a seemingly effortless flick of his wrist, he backhanded you across the cheek, the momentum sending you flying towards the ground. The smack of skin still rang in your ears as you landed hard on the asphalt palms stinging. 

Tears welled in your eyes as Tattoo’s grabbed your hair by the roots and leaned to whisper in your ear. You felt the cool metal of the flat of the blade cress down your arm.

But no threats came. 

Instead, you were tugged harshly to the side nearly faceplanting to the ground, and a scream ripped from your throat in the confusion as the knife clattered away. 

You opened your eyes to see Tattoos on the ground next to you eyes rolling into his skull, and the boy you were ‘saving’ leaning over you. 

“C’mon get up!” he grabbed your hand, pulling you onto your feet. 

You winced as your hair untangled from Tattoo’s now limp grip, and you looked over to see the man had fallen on the ground with you blinking dazed as blood trickled from his temple. 

“Run!” the boy ordered, keeping hold of your hand and dragging you out the alley and back up the street. 

You trailed behind him clumsily at first, thrown off balance by your missing shoe. But it wasn’t long before you heard footsteps tromping behind you, and you magically regained your coordination with the new burst of adrenaline and fear.

“Don’t look back,” the boy huffed before you could spare a glance over your shoulder. 

You ran a few more blocks before you saw the famier sight of your work.

“C’mon this way,” You pant taking the lead and pulling him into the alley by 929. 

“We can’t-” you hushed him as he started to argue, pulling him behind one of the dumpsters as you heard the thugs run past you and turn the corner onto the next street. 

The two of you sat in silence for an eternity of a minute, holding your breath as you made sure they didn’t come back. At that time, you realized you grossly underestimated the boy’s age. He didn’t look like a high schooler at all. Once you got past his wide round eyes you could see he was clearly your age. 

He was handsome, and although his shirt near swallowed him, you could see the fabric stick to his defined biceps and what looked to be a solid stomach.

“I think we’re good,” he whispered, breaking you from a trance. He smiled at your startled expression.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he said with a grin as he offered his hand. Grasping his hand, you responded with your own name as he helped you up from your crouch.

“I wouldn’t doubt it if they turn back around though, I wouldn’t doubt if there’s more than two of them. We need to get off the street,” he breathed, turning to you. 

“I have a place” you offered, wondering why you were about to risk your employment for this stranger as you walked deeper in the alley to where the back entrance of 929 was. 

“Please don’t touch anything,” you requested sheepishly as you unlocked the door. He cracked a small smile, which in turn cracked his lip as it started to well red with blood. You need to get the first aid kit- you thought to yourself.

 You entered the store and immediately locked eyes with your shift cover, Skip -the owner’s nephew. He was a lanky fellow about 1 year past due for a haircut, but he never gave you any trouble. 

“What are you doing back here?” he questioned, eyeing you and Jungkook’s disheveled state. 

“What are you doing back here? Why aren’t you on the floor?” you shot back, trying to appear calm. He scowled at you before returning to the register upfront. 

You led Jungkook through the backroom to the small corner that was the ‘employees lounge’, a folding chair and cardtable that was half-covered in inventory documents and leaned a little too far to the left.

“Best stay in the backroom since the front of the store is made up of windows,” you said lightly before reaching for the first aid kit on a nearby shelf. 

He watched you curiously as you shuffled through the dusty medical supplies. This can't be sanitary, you thought to yourself as you read through the expired labels with slight difficulty as your hands shook. You were just coming down from an adrenaline high, you told yourself stubbornly.

You settled on the hydrogen peroxide which didn’t look out of date just yet and poured some on the cleanest rag you could find. Willing your hand to hold steady before prodding it gently at the scratches on his face. 

Jungkook tried to keep his expressions neutral, tried to keep his eyes staring past you and to the doorway to avoid studying every detail of your face. But he found himself failing as he watched you fall into the comfort of tending to his wounds. 

He noticed the distraction was grounding you more than putting you on edge. And he wondered if you were experienced in this somehow as you reached for his hands to pick out the rubble and wrap his split knuckles. 

When you started work on his hands he realized that he was shaking, and he flushed with embarrassment. You didn’t seem to notice or judge him at least. You inspected his hand with a trained eye overlooking the tremor and instead focusing on the swelling on his wrist. 

Fractured, you wondered, watching his face cautiously as you gave an experimental turn. He flinched, confirming your suspicion, and you winced thinking about how you grabbed his arm to pull him into the alley. 

 “Thank you for helping me,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “and for this.” He ended awkwardly, pulling his hand from your grasp and gesturing to the rag in your hand and the first aid kit.

“Oh,” you let out not knowing how to respond to such a situation, “umm you’re welcome I mean anyone would-”

“They wouldn’t,” he cut you off with another cheeky grin, “but I’m glad you did. Although I’m sorry, you had to.” you nodded in response all words lost as you flushed unsure of what to do with yourself you shuffled through the first aid kit. 

“Wait, wait, we didn’t get you,” he murmured, taking your hand and gently turning it palm up to reveal the scattered scratches. 

He stood from the chair maneuvering you so you could be seated instead, before helping himself to the first aid kid. He picked out a few bits of gravel before carefully dabbing the scrapes to clean them, and reaching for the thin white strips of gauze. Wrapping your hands in a way, he saw you wrap his own.

 You smiled amused, while it was a little unnecessary to wrap your hands, the cuts on his were much deeper than your own. You appreciated the gesture. You couldn’t remember the last time someone tended to your wounds.

“Now Cinderella, let’s take a look at that foot,” he said with a teasing smile as he crouched down, reaching for your ankle. 

Panic flew through you as you pulled your foot away with an embarrassing squeal. “No need, it’s fine. I swear,” you flushed. 

He looked at you, amused, “Everyone has feet, it’s fine,” he taunted, reaching for your soggy sock. 

“I know, I know, but please,” you gasped. “I’m ticklish, and I will squirm,” you warned.

“I think I can handle it.” 

“No, you can’t. I don't want to hurt you. I think your wrist is broken,” you accused in your desperation to deflect. 

Jungkook looked up at you with a faltering smile argument dying on his lips. And you tried to amend yourself as your rambled, “Or fractured at least, the swelling indicates that-”

“You’re a doctor?” he questioned, looking pleasantly surprised. 

“No, not yet, at least. I’m in school, but not far enough to help you. We should really get you to the hospital to get it taken care of, and who knows what state your ribs are in.” you said, looking down as he still kneeled on the ground. You wondered how he wasn’t showing any sign of discomfort, even with adrenaline in his system he should be in some pain.

“Oh no, no hospital” he argued quickly, and you raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously “If you let it heal wrong it’ll-” 

“I’ll have a friend take me, I don’t want you to go through that trouble” you looked at him unimpressed but didn’t push you knew when a fight was a lost cause. 

“Well, are you going to call a friend or a cab to pick you up, I’m not letting you just walk out there to die after risking my life for you.” you teased. He rolled his eyes at the statement but agreed he should call someone. 

You wandered a little closer to the front of the store to give him a sense of privacy as he made his call. You felt a twinge of pain in your ankle as you got up and reached down to tug your sock off. You wondered if you rolled it in your heroic flee earlier. 

You frowned down at your wet sock. You can’t belive you just threw you boot like that. They weren’t in the best condition, but they were the best pair your had. The closest thing to water resistant. The last bits of Spring were going to suck without them. 

Then you shamelessly wondered if you could go back to the alley to grab it, once you and Jungkook parted ways. 

As you assess yourself for an injury and mourned your lost boot, you couldn’t help but overhear Jungkook’s conversation. It seems he called a friend instead of a cab. What stood out to you was his tone of voice when he spoke. 

You know there is no easy way to tell a friend you got mugged, some dumb girl interfered, and now you were hiding out in the back of a convenience store, but he had a tone of... professionalism? As if he were calling his boss and informing him of a missed deadline. He spoke efficiently and made odd references as if he were speaking in a code of some kind.

 It never occurred to you at any point this evening that Jungkook could be dangerous. Sitting alone with him in the back of the shop, he gave off such a warm and inviting presence that you never questioned what he was capable of. You just assumed he was the victim of a mugging. 

But now, taking in his clothing, how he spoke to his ‘friend’ on the phone, and the way he refused to go to the hospital, you start to wonder just who you let in the store. 

“Did you need to call someone?” you jumped as his voice broke your trail of thought, and he looked at you apologetically. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just thought you may wanna call a cab yourself” he offered

You worried your lip as you looked at the idle screen of your own phone, and your mind drew a blank at who you could call. 

You had friends, just no one you could call at 4:30 a.m. on a school night and ask for a ride to your apartment that was less than two miles away. You really didn’t want to pay for a cab either. The thought of sitting in a vehicle with a stranger sounds less than ideal, not to mention the cab fare in the area was ridiculous and you might have a new pair of boots to save up for. 

Finally, sighing, you looked up at him with a teasing smile, “I was just going to head home once I know you're safe,” you said, trying your best to make your voice seem light. 

Jungkook smiled but not out of humor. 

“You’re joking, right? Look, I’m not trying to sound disrespectful, but you really shouldn’t be out there like that this late.” 

You scrunch your nose in displeasure, and before you could kindly remind him, it was nearly 5 o’clock in the morning, and was you who saved his ass just over an hour ago he pushed forward. 

“Those guys saw your face just as much as mine. It’s not safe to be out tonight; you have no clue if they're lurking.” 

You felt a small chill of fear go through you, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking, “Did you know them? What did they want from you?” 

He looked uneasy at your question, and you wondered if saving him might have unexpected consequences. “No, no, I didn’t know them, or why they mugged me; they probably wanted my wallet or something,” he finally said with a shrug, but it didn’t feel like the truth. 

“Jungkook do-” 

“Hey, let me give you a ride home.”

You were caught off guard by his offer, but as he continued to plead with you and reminded you of all the dangers of walking home, you took him up on his request. And half hoping maybe in your time together you could get the truth out of him. 

You tried to act normal while you waited with him for his friend to come to pick the two of you up. 

You considered thinking of an excuse to get out of the ride home, but he never did anything to you to prove he wasn’t trustworthy. You told yourself you were just paranoid after such a jarring experience. Jungkook was probably as worked up as you were after all. 

Then the car pulled up. It was sleek black and with a soft purring engine that looked out of place on the west side of the city. You looked between the car and Jungkook trying to determine if he was rich or a criminal as the passenger side window rolled down revealing the most stunning man you’ve ever seen, that looked at you in a way that had you pulling at the edge of your work polo to smooth out the wrinkles. 

 “Get in loosers we’re going shopping,” he said in fake enthusiasm. 

You didn’t know how to react to the outdated Mean Girl’s reference, and he laughed at your dumbfounded expression before deadpanning, “I’m kidding, but seriously Kook please get your friend in the car before we get shot. The area isn’t secure,” his flat tone contrasting with the carefree rectangular smile he punctuated his sentence with. 

Jungkook cursed under his breath before putting his good hand against your lower back to urge you into the backseat of the car before sliding in behind you.

 As you made your way into the fine vehicle, you were very aware of your missing shoe and haggard appearance. You worried you may soil the interior permanently.

 The car took off as soon as Jungkook slid in the back behind you. And Jungkook pulled the door shut with a curse as the car started rolling. 

You looked up to see the driver was an equally beautiful man.

You weren’t one to compare humans to higher beings. However, you were very aware that you were sitting in the car with a Greek god and his angel best friend. Saints were you in some kind of beautiful men only AU? You needed to find a way out before your heart exploded. 

You curse yourself for thinking so shallowly when you may not even be in the clear of a life-threatening situation just yet. 

But you noticed you were sitting behind the angel in the driver’s seat, and as far as you were concerned, that was a pretty good position to be in, in the case of a kidnapping. They would have a hard time holding you hostage if you had your hands around their driver’s throat. 

“These are my friends Jimin and Taehyung,” Jungkook introduced as you both buckled. “Guys, this is... Cinderella,” Jungkook says, stretching out his words as he thought. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow as the angel Jimin let out a laugh, the sound as pure as bells.

Taehyung turned around with a challenging glint in his eye, and your stomach dropped as you recognized his face. “Is that what you go by, princess?” He taunted, and you squirmed under his gaze. 

“Do you two know each other?” Jungkook asked, brows furrowed. 

“We go wayyy back,” Taehyung, who up until now you knew as V, teased. Jungkook looked at you expectingly.

“He’s uh- he’s my dealer,” you said quietly as you stared at your lap, “nothing heavy just some Adderall during finals season,” you amended flushing.

It was true, although your interactions were brief until tonight, you didn’t even know his real name. You just knew him as the guy in the hoodie that hung out behind the Mexican restaurant, not too far off-campus, that went by V. He wore a mask any time you met probably to hide such a distinct smile, but the moment you heard his voice, you recognized him.

“And mid-term season, and test week, and group projects, and  -”

“We get it, Tae,” Jimin said with a warning to his tone cutting the dealer off in his listing.  

The car fell into a tense silence before your body was once again lurched into the car door from Jimin taking another tight turn, and the motion helped you gather your wits.

“Are we going to the hospital?’ you asked, confused about how confidently Jimin was driving despite not knowing your address.

“No, we’re taking a few laps around town before we drop you off just in case we have anyone following you guys, you don’t want your friends from earlier to know where you live” Jimin offered. The confidence in his voice suddenly made you uncomfortable as you realized they may be experienced in this situation. 

“Why would we go to the hospital; are you injured?” he followed concern bleeding into his voice. Taehyung turned around in his seat to asses you for himself, lips quirking at the sight of your missing shoe. 

“No, Jungkook is his wrist-” 

“Is fine, I'll have someone look at it when we get to the house” Jungkook cut you off with a warning look.

Teahyung laughed “You’re getting an earful tonight brother.” he teased as Jimin took a sharp turn lurching your body into the door.

“I- umm I would like to go home as soon as possible, please,” you asked weakly as you saw the first rays of the sun were starting to paint the buildings. 

Jimin’s eyes flashed towards you in the rearview mirror, concerned, “I really do promise to get you home safely, princess, but to do that, please let me do my job first and then this night will be over.” he assured his voice warm and confident. And while part of you believed he truly did plan to get you home safe tonight the rest of your mind was immediately set on high alert by his kind words

Forty-odd minutes later, you found yourself deep in the upper east side of the city where all the houses had tall iron fences, and the yards were decorated with fountains. By the time you gave Jimin the address of your apartment, the streets were beginning to come to life with the weekday morning traffic. 

 “How long have you been staying there Ella?” Tae asked, recognizing Mrs.Rita's establishment.

“I’ve actually been living there for about 3 years now. It’s a dump, but I’m broke, so what can you do.” you offered tiredly as you leaned against the window unphased by your new nickname. 

Throughout the car ride, Taehyung’s names for you went from Cinderella to Ella, to El. Jimin stuck with calling you Princess, however, it didn’t feel like an insult coming from his lips.

Throughout the ride, Jungkook and Tae had done an excellent job of calming your nerves and keeping you distracted. Tae had been going on and on about which coffee shop was the best one, and you were pleased when he agreed that your favorite shop served the best dirty chi in town. 

‘Tae has a talent for finding everything dirty in this town’ Jimin had teased before receiving a smack on the shoulder from the younger.

You think you might have heard Tae ask a follow-up question, or perhaps he was talking to Jungkook as you listened to the rumble of his response. But all you could focus on were the manicured lawns of the east side and fighting the heavyweight of your eyelids against the morning sun.

“Ella,” Jungkook sang lightly, giving your shoulder a small shake. 

You blinked blearily at him as your surroundings slowly came to focus, and you remembered where you were. You sat up with a gasp, immediately cursing yourself for falling asleep in a car full of strange men. 

“Your castle awaits Princess,” Jimin offered as they rolled up to the complex, and you realized Tae was no longer in the front seat next to him. He must have gotten dropped off on your way to the Westside. 

You looked around in shock. They really didn’t kidnap you. 

Jimin let out a startled laugh and you realized you accedntly voiced your surprise. You flushed and thanked him for the ride while Jungkook slid out the car rushing around the back and opening the door to help you out, ever the gentleman. 

“I wanted to thank you… again” Jungkook said shyly as he walked you to your door, you hand on his arm as if he truly were escorting a lady.

“I- its no problem.” You said, unsure of how to go on with the attention. 

“Why didn’t you tell them my real name?” you asked as you ascended the stairs. 

“I didn’t want to violate your privacy like that, you were in a car full of strange men. That’s stressful enough” Your heart warmed at his kindness. 

“But you walking me to my door and knowing where I live should put me at ease?” you challenge as you came to a stop in front of your apartment. Jungkook flushed as he looked around, noticing just how exposed the complex is. He didn't like that the area wasn’t gated, and the entrances were outside like a cheap motel. 

“I suppose I didn’t think that through” he shrugged.

“Just remember I have pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

He chuckled before you both fell into an awkward silence, not knowing how to say goodbye, and for a brief moment, you realized neither of you wanted to. 

“Well, I better-”

“Yeah yeah definitely,” he agreed, scratching the back of his neck. 

“You have a good night or morning,” he offered with a smile as you unlocked your door and parted ways. 

-----------

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you remember when your alarm went off at 10 a.m. and deciding you were going to skip your classes and sleep in. 

You were in need of a ‘mental health’ day more than ever after the night-morning, you had. It was near 2 p.m. when you finally cracked your eyes open. Hunger and the need to relieve yourself finally dragging you from your sleep. You stumbled aimlessly as you took care of your body’s needs and even entertained a shower. 

 But after the shower, you were at a loss. You didn’t know what to do of yourself. At one point you checked your temperature to try to determine if it was all a fever dream, but the gauze on your hands and the bruise on your cheek confirmed you did, in fact, whip a thugs ass last night and got your own ass handed to you as a result. 

After further investigation, you found that your left boot was still missing and wondered if you could find it if you searched for it on your way to work in the evening. 

After an hour of contemplation, you decided you had to move on with life. One night of adventure wasn’t going to change your reality. 

You were still a student in the throes of pre-med school, you still have responsibilities and assignments. And while last night’s adventure will be a great tale to share with some friends over drinks at the pub on Friday night, it was Wednesday afternoon, and you still had assignments to do. 

You set up you work space telling yourself you wouldn’t put more than three things on your to-do list this afternoon. Before you decided you much rather water your plants and clean your apartment then attempt to study. It was a mental health day after all. 

You indulged in putting on the old jazz record you dad mailed you for Christmas your freshman year. At the time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t even have a record player, so you put away a little money for every paycheck until you could find a cheap used one at a rummage store. 

You're sure the quality isn’t the best. Still, you’re also sure you have never heard a more beautiful sound than the day you finally dropped the needle on the disk and listened to the familiar tune.

And while you have since gotten other records, this one remains your favorite, because it always reminded you of home. You were singing along in a terrible impression of the musician, for your own entertainment as you made your bed and finally put away the pile of clean laundry you had been cuddling on your bed for the pst two weeks. When you heard a rapid knock at your door.

You called out as you made your way to your door, surprised by the unexpected guest. 

Perhaps your music was too loud. Perhaps your singing was too loud and your neighbors wanted to complain. You were mortified by the thought. 

You opened the door apology on your lips when you saw nothing but the covered the breezway. Perhaps it was some brat pranking you, you thought to yourself bitterly. But as you went to close your door, you saw a small parcel sitting on the ground outside. Picking up the box there was a small note attached that merely said:

For Cinderella: Thanks :)

Taking it inside, you opened the box carefully to find a shiny new pair of black boots. Much finer than the ones you owned before. The leather was soft and polished, and the laces were crips. And dare you say, they were much more fashionable than your old pair. Curiously you tried them on to find that they were your exact size. 

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

The Bangtan family believed in life debts, it was one of the few traditions that they valued enough to maintain and honor. If someone were to save a member's life, that person no matter their class, status, or gang affiliation, was added to the ‘No Harm List.’ A very short but sacred list of individuals the Bangtan family went out of their way to protect and ensure the safety of from their gang as well as any others in the area. 

The life debt was not paid by just the member who was saved, but the entire family. And while no life-debt could be valued more than another, the entire Bangtan family was quickly made aware of the new princess of the lower west side. Rumor spread of Cinderella and how you saved the maknae, heir to the family dynasty’s life. 

“I don’t think this counts as paying your life debt,” Suga sighed as he put the car in park in front of your apartment complex.

“I’m not trying to pay it off! You can't do that. This is to thank her, now please go set it by her door. She can’t know it was from me!,” Jungkook pleaded to his elder.

“Who else would buy her shoes?” the elder challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Jungkook didn’t reply but merely stared at him pleadingly, his doe eyes reflecting the cosmos. 

Suga sighed as he unbuckled his seat belt thinking of 100 more important things he should be doing right now before making his way up the concrete stairs to your apartment. He heard soft jazz music seeping through the door, accompanied by a terrible impression of Louis Armstrong. Which made him huff with laughter as he set the package down and knocked on your door, pulling his cap down as he strolled back to his vehicle. 

-> Pt. 2

[thinkingimmensely]

Like An Open Book X

Part 1 | Part 9 | Part 11

A/N: Hello everyone! We’re halfway through the first month of 2021 and here’s a new chapter for y’all! Comments are very much appreciated <3 I want to know what you guys think of the story so far, it also gives me motivation to write more really :D  

This chapter is quite long, I didn’t want to cut it halfway through since it breaks the momentum thingy haha, I hope you guys don’t mind and enjoy it! <3

MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!

___________________

Remus and James had jumped into the water creating a wave that hit you, Sirius, and Peter. The boys soon started a wrestling match, with James up on Remus’ shoulders while Sirius was up on Peter’s.

You laughed as you watched Sirius successfully topple James down, winning the first round of their little wrestling match.  

It was the first time you were actually laughing out loud with people you considered as friends, you realized, and if you dwelled on the thought, you felt like crying out of the happiness that filled you right now.  

Because you were someone to them, you finally found a place where you belonged… but, will they still have you even though you had the ability to know their every nook and cranny? You knowingly frowned, then wiped it off your features.  

“I’m feeling a bit knackered, I’m going to rest for a while!” You called out to the boys and they replied with a chorus of okay’s and aright’s. You swam back to shore and got off the water with ease. You sat on the blanket Remus had spread out earlier and wrapped a towel around yourself; you were already beginning to dry, what with the sun harshly beating down on you.  

You would’ve used a drying spell but then you already used that whip earlier and you wouldn’t want to try and press the Ministry’s buttons with using so much underage magic. Thank Merlin Legilimency couldn’t be detected then, since you’d no doubt be behind bars with the number of times you’ve used it outside of Hogwarts.

You sighed, you wondered what Lily was doing right now; you hoped she was having as much fun as you were. She had written to you a few days ago saying that although she still finds James and company (excluding Remus) quite irritating, she was really glad you were having a grand time. She had also attached a picture of herself with the Eiffel Tower behind her. Your thoughts soon drifted off to a certain Slytherin student; you considered him a friend who knew you as well as you knew him. You’ve been inside Severus Snape’s mind too many times that you could read him as easy as an open book, and you’ve seen his fascination with the dark arts and his inner struggle to try and change his views about this whole mess.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about him anymore; despite his gloomy and snarky attitude, he was good company, and a good student. You just wished your memories about the time Mulciber and the others attacked you came back, maybe then you’d understand why Severus was hellbent on ignoring you; and if only Severus stood still for a moment, you could just peek and get the answers yourself.

Your train of thought was soon cut short as the boys got out of water and were heading your way, big smiles on their faces as they chatted. You cast a smile their way as they came near enough, your thoughts about Severus and your lost memories tucked into the back of your mind for now.

-

“Hey Y/N, how do I look?” Sirius asked as he came into view by your doorway. You turned to look at him and chuckled as he twirled around for good measure. He adorned an all-Black attire, with his black shirt, skinny black jeans, combat boots and a leather jacket.

“Like you’re ready for a rock concert.” You commented. He flashed his white pearls at you and came inside the room as you were just finishing up your preparations, pocketing your wand in your hoodie, you turned back to Sirius just in time to catch his pushing his long hair back his shoulders, “Do you want me to tie your hair up? I figured it might be annoying if you leave it down later.”

“Good idea!” He chirped and sat down on a stool by the vanity dresser. You came up behind him and scooped his curls in your hands, taking time to do it as neatly at possible, and tied it up with an extra elastic band. Sirius admired himself in the mirror, “My, don’t I look dashing?” He said then stood up as you snorted. 

“Like a masterpiece.” 

“Darling, may I commend you on your keen eye on beauty?” The both of you broke out laughing and Sirius wrapped an arm around your shoulders and smiled down at you fondly, “Anyway, I’m here to pick you up, the others are already waiting downstairs, and may I add, are itching to go. So, shall we?” He dropped his hand off your shoulder and offered his arm instead.

You shook your head and found this all so silly, but you hooked your arm with his nonetheless. “We shall.” The both of you teetering on your way down, arms linked together. James gave you two a confused look when you came into view, but decided not to say anything. You moved away from Sirius when Remus came out of the kitchen, cookie in hand. “Quick snack before we go?”  

Remus smiled at you, “There’s more in the kitchen, I see you eyeing my cookie. Get your own.”

You placed a hand on your chest at mock-hurt, “Ouch Rem, what ever happened to sharing?”

“This is Sirius’ fault no doubt,” Remus said, then turned to the gray-eyed boy, “look what your influence has done to her; she’s as sassy as you.”  

“Oi, it’s time to go!” James called out from the doorway.

“Now you kids be careful!” Euphemia doted, “Always carry your wands with you.”

James nodded as the rest of you piled outside, “Don’t worry mum, we’ll be back at dawn!”  

When your group arrived at the area where the concert was held, there was already a swarm of people out and about.  Remus placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you guys braved the crowd.  The five of you soon found a spot beside a trailer, Sirius already had a few girls chatting him up while Peter hung on to their every word. Remus and James kept you grounded with all the muggles around and their hearts on their sleeves. They distracted you with conversations and jokes that you didn’t even notice the time that passed until the concert was starting in a couple of minutes.

The swarm of people started gathering and despite Remus’ best efforts to at least provide you with some space to personal space, you found yourself struggling to breathe as strangers pressed upon you as they headed near the stage to get a better view.  

“I’m gonna go buy something to drink!” Sirius informed you guys over the cheers of the crowd as the band took to the stage. 

Your ears were ringing and you grabbed Sirius by the sleeves of his jacket, “I’ll come with!” You shouted back. Sirius gave you a look of surprise but nodded nonetheless and the two of you dispersed from the rest. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as the two of you approached a stall where they sold a variety of drinks. It wasn’t as crowded in this area compared to earlier since the concert just started.  

“All right?” Sirius asked as you fanned yourself with your hands.  

“Of course.” You replied as Sirius took the can of root beer and fished out a couple of muggle currency out of his pocket. He eyed it then flashed you a sheepish look. You rolled your eyes, chuckling lightly as you helped him pay, getting the right amount and handing it to the vendor.

He popped the lid of the can open releasing some fizz, and took a gulp. “Ack, I didn’t think beer would taste like this. Do muggles really get drunk with this?”  

You raised a brow. “Are you serious?”

He furrowed his brows at you, “Yes???”

You shook your head, “I mean, that’s root beer, it isn’t alcoholic. I think it’s more soda actually.”

Sirius frowned and looked at the drink in his hand and took another gulp. He shrugged, “Kind of reminds me of butterbeer.” You laughed at that. He offered you the drink and you gladly took a a few gulps before giving it back to him, your thirst quenched for the time being.

You two were about to head back to the others when another group of girls crowded Sirius saying they just wanted to chat a bit. He had cast you a hesitant look before you waved him off, telling him that you’d wait for him. And wait you did, quite awkwardly at the side until someone suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you away in haste. “What the bloody hell!” You exclaimed and snatched your hand away but the person turned to look at you. It was a he, and his eyes stormed with panic.   “What are you doing here?!” He snapped as he pulled you further away from the crowd, you willingly followed this time, your mind still not believing the fact the he was actually here.  

“I should be asking you that. I thought you didn’t hang out with muggles, Sev?” You tried to stay calm, but now that he was talking to you, you felt your nerves tangling up inside of you. For weeks he hadn’t said a word to you and now he’s snapping at you? 

Severus ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “We don’t have time for this. You need to leave. Now.” He warned, “Something is about to happen and-” he was about to say but you cut him off, “What do you mean? You- you've been ignoring me for weeks and now... now you show up from who knows where and tell me to leave?”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, “If you think of me as your friend like you always say I am, then trust me when I say that it’s not safe here. They’re coming!”  

“They’re?” You asked but before Severus could reply, people with masks and hoods over their heads apparated to the crowd from thin air, cackling noises vibrating throughout the area; people soon began shouting in shock and confusion. “No...” You whispered horridly. Death Eaters. You were about to run back to the crowd on instinct but Severus grabbed your hand. You whipped towards him, “Let me go! The others are still there!” You cried out.  Green blasts lit at random places in the crowd while another batch of wizards and witches arrived, the cackling caused by apparation being overlapped by screams and spells. The new group battled the Death Eaters immediately, so they must be Aurors sent by the Ministry.

Muggles ran past the both of you, and someone slammed right into you and Severus, releasing the boy’s hold on you. You took this opportunity to get up and sprint back to search for your friends. You could feel your eyes prickle with unshed tears, of course Severus knew, he was one step away from joining them. “Sirius! Remus!” You shouted through the swarm of people. “Peter! James!” Shouts echoed the area as the people escaped, they’d never hear you at this rate. Hopelessness started to engulf you as dread filled your body. Everyone was scared you could hear everyone’s screams and you could slowly feel yourself lose your strength; you could feel yourself lose your own thoughts.

E c h o e s

Your mind was like a cave that had voices bouncing off its walls; echoing deeper in its crevice.

You’ve lost yourself in that cave countless of times before, each one was not a moment you looked back on fondly. Now you’re back and it seemed like the rocky walls of thoughts were closing in on you.

C    l   o   s  i  n g   r i g h t   in

Covering your ears didn’t help, but you did it anyway. People were running amok; children were being separated from their parents, friends were losing each other in the crowd and you couldn’t focus even if you had to- the voices in reality was being mixed with the ones in your head.

Everyone was screaming.

You felt someone pull you away just as a flash of green hit the spot where you just stood.

You didn’t even know who he was.

“Y/N, are you all right?!” The person shook you, and you looked into hazel eyes that were wide with worry and fright. His hands held you by your shoulders in a vice-like grip and you were pretty sure he wasn’t even aware of it himself. “Stay with me. Focus on me.” His voice left no room for argument and you found yourself keenly aware of how close your bodies were. If the both of you weren’t stuck in this life-or-death situation, you would’ve turned into a million shades of red right now.

The both of you were hunched back behind some bushes, shielding you from the sight of any Death Eater around the area. He pried your hands away from your ears, his eyes never leaving yours, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”  

You didn’t realize you were crying until now, but everything in your head seemed quieter as James Potter’s thoughts drowned everyone else’s away. I’ll keep you safe, we’ll get out of here, we’ll get out. You breathed in a shaky breath and got your wand out of the pocket of your hoodie. “I won’t let anything happen to you too.”

You wiped your tears away and steeled your resolve. James pulled you up and held your hand tightly as you went around, trying to find your three friends. “Protego Duo!” You cast just as one of the Death Eaters was about to blast an Auror from behind.  

“Stupefy!” James shouted and it hit the Death Eater square in the chest, making him fall backwards with a thud.  

DIE  

Merchant stalls caught on fire from Incendio, smoke erupting from the flames. You wiped your tears on the sleeve of your hoodie as James screamed for the names of your friends. He had long let go of your hand as the two of you cast spell after spell in defense and retaliation. 

IMPURE

Someone had slammed into you again, sending you to the ground in a hard thud, your head hurt from the impact and the person paid no heed to you as he scrambled up and continued to run away.  

MUDBLOOD

Muggles cry out as green hits them. How many has fallen? James had rushed to your side to pull you back up, and you groaned in pain as you did.  

DIE

You whipped your attention behind you and saw the Death Eaters duel against Aurors. Someone seemed to float past the turmoil, unperturbed by the events and your blood ran cold. The man had snake-like features, his eyes were scarlet and his face, masklike. And throughout everyone, his eyes locked on to you and a sinister smile slowly spread on his face, time seemed to slow down, but not in a good way. His cruel entity radiated out of him and his thoughts made you want to hurl.

“Ah, a Legilimens!” He shouted, and despite all the noise around, his voice still boomed and everyone paying attention still heard him. A mistake. You made a mistake and now he knows. “And also well-versed in Occlumency I see.” He grinned, and you knew he tried to go into your subconscious as well.  

“James,” You croaked out as the boy stepped in front of you, wand drawn, you didn’t want him to find out this way. You wanted to be able to tell them yourself when you were ready.

The Auror you saved shielded the both of you, shouting that you needed to escape.  

“There is no need!” The snake-like man announced, “There is no escape from the Dark Lord!” He howled, “Avada Kedavra!” He yelled and the Auror dropped dead as the spell hit him square in the chest. You couldn’t even scream.

Shivers ran down your spine. This was him; this was Lord Voldemort in the flesh. Why was he here? Didn’t he usually leave little events to his followers? “You girl,” He called out to you and stretched out his hand, “Your talents will not be wasted if you join me! This is the first time I met a child blessed with such prowess of Legilimency! You may be only second to me! The boy beside you shows great potential as well, the both of you will rise up in my ranks with your skills!” Even though it seemed like he was complimenting you, his cold and steely tone held no such impression.

You gripped your wand tightly, ready for any sudden movements as sweat trickled down your forehead at the suspense. You glanced at James; the boy never took his eyes off of the Dark Lord and anger burned behind those hazel eyes.

“We will never join you!” James snapped and flicked his wand towards a fallen log and propelled it towards Voldemort and his other death eaters. The both of you took this opportunity to escape, never bothering to look back.  

Voldemort bellowed at the petty trick, instantly blasting the log into pieces. “Leave them!” He commanded his followers when they were about to pursuit. “There will be many chances in the future.”  

-

“Remus! Peter!” James exclaimed in relief as he saw the two. The four of you reunited and Peter was bawling his eyes out in fright, his hand that held his wand tightly was trembling vigorously as he held it up in defense.

The three boys looked haggard and you figured you were as well. All of you stayed on your guard as the battle still raged on. “We need to find Sirius and get away from here.” James said and the rest of you nodded in agreement.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Remus casted, hitting a Death Eater, disabling him from making any movements. You didn’t have to look for long when Peter spotted Sirius dueling with someone a few meters from where you stood.  

“Peter, look out!” You shout and tackled the blonde boy to the ground as a spell flew by the both of you and hit another person instead. “Immobulus!” James shot at the perpetrator while Remus shot him with a Flipendo, sending him backwards. You helped Peter up, the boy looking absolutely distraught about that near-death experience but still continued on with the rest of you.

“Wouldn’t it be great if you joined us, cousin?!” A woman with wild, curly, black hair exclaimed as she shot spell after spell at your gray-eyed friend. You could feel the bloodlust radiating off of her as she had no qualms on dueling against her family member. Bellatrix Lestrange, or as you knew her back then, Bellatrix Black.  

“In your wildest dreams, Bella!” Sirius retaliated with a smirk as he countered her every spell, hex, and dodge every curse. Unlike the other Death Eaters, Bellatrix didn’t wear a robe nor a mask to cover who she was. She was quite proud to be a follower of Voldemort and was sure to flaunt it.  

A flash of green light burst in the sky all of a sudden, which made all of you look up and halting all duels. A colossal skull decorated the sky in a flurry of green smoke until it etched itself on the black sky like a new constellation. A snake protruded from its mouth like a tongue. The Dark Mark. 

Now, just as sudden as the Death Eaters arrived, they vanished, leaving the aftermath of destruction in their wake. An eerie silence enveloped the area as the Aurors made quick work on damage control. The muggles that escaped were soon tracked and obliviated of any memory of magic that transpired.  

You stared into the distance. Your throbbing head soon healed as a healer made quick work of any injuries the five of you may have sustained. “Your use of underage magic today will be overlooked as an act of self-defense.” An Auror informed you and your companions.  

You sighed, “Can we go home now?” You were exhausted, all of you were, and James’ parents were probably pacing themselves in worry. The Auror looked at you, thinking. He was as tired as you guys were, and he surely didn’t want to deal with students right now.  

“Of course. We will contact you if we have additional questions. Now, you shall be escorted-” He was about to say but James cut him off, “No it’s fine. My place isn’t far from here...”

You zoned out of the conversation when the Auror started explaining the need for an escort and James insisting that the lot of you could look after yourselves, your focus shifted to the people being obliviated. The flash of the wand as the spell was cast seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. You placed a hand on your head as flashes of darkness appeared in your mind. You suddenly stood up, much to the surprise of your friends, and you approached one of the Obliviators.  

“Excuse me,” You said. The Obliviator finished her task and turned to look at you and raised a brow in question. You bit your lower lip in nervousness, “Um, would it be alright if I asked some questions about Obliviate?”

The woman faced you fully, letting out a kind smile. “Of course. What would you want to know?”

You ran a hand through your hair, “I- is it possible for the people who were obliviated to regain their memories?” You asked, “How would you know that you’ve been obliviated before?”

The Obliviator placed a hand on her chin in thought, “Well,” she started, “For one, you wouldn’t know if it was casted on you as long as it was properly cast.” She informed you and thought some more, “As for regaining memories, there are various ways of breaking the Memory Charm. Torture, for one. I heard the Death Eaters are especially fond of that; also, if the charm that was cast isn’t as strong, a simple memory potion should do the trick. There are different levels of the charm, so it’s very important to have full focus when casting it. If it’s too strong it could cause brain damage, or even worse, death. But if it’s too weak, there would be a high chance of the person regaining their memories.”  

You nodded, engraving her words into your head, maybe this was the answer. “Thank you.” The woman nodded in reply and walked away to obliviate yet another unconscious muggle. Remus stood up as you headed back to them.  

“All right?” He questioned as he placed his hands on your arms. You looked up at him, his brown eyes glinting off worry. You gulped.  

“As I’ll ever be.” You replied. Remus’ mouth formed a thin line on his face; he didn’t believe you. But he chose not to pry any further, which you were glad for. They informed you that the Auror was going to Apparate you guys to James’ house and explain the situation to his parents.  

When you arrived, the door slammed open and Euphemia and Fleamont rushed out, the former in tears as she pulled all five of you in a bone-crushing hug. Fleamont and the Auror moved a few meters away to discuss everything that happened as Euphemia hounded the lot of you inside.  

After warm baths and a change of clothes, all of you retreated to bed. You were by yourself in the guest room while the boys shared James’ room. You wished you could go to them right now; you didn’t want to be alone.  

You stared at the ceiling of the room as you laid in bed that night. Sleep eluded you and your thoughts plagued you. Someone may have obliviated yours and the Slytherins’ memories about the fight at Hogwarts, you didn’t know who it was and why they did what they did, but you were bent on figuring it out. 

Also now, Voldemort knew your ability and wanted you to join his army. You doubt this would be the last time you come face to face with the Dark Lord, war was brewing and even with the safety Hogwarts provided you as students, you would ultimately have to graduate and leave. You had to tell Dumbledore about all this, you decided and immediately stood up to write him a letter. 

Quill in hand, you realized your hand still shook from the shock of earlier’ s attack. You took in a deep breath in hopes to help still your mind. Your penmanship wasn’t the best right now but it would have to do with your current state. It was cold and you missed the familiar warmth of the bespectacled boy’s hand in yours and the protection it provided. James was like a pillar that kept you grounded that time...

James... you set down your quill midway the letter, the color draining from your face as realization dawned. James knew. He knew you were a Legilimens now.

___________________ 

LAOB Taglist:

@serenefreakgeek , @rising-ice-phoenix , @lilmissimperfectlyperfect , @criminallygoodimagines , @lookingformarissa , @fantasticchaoticwho , @bestillmystuckyheart , @stubbornflowerchild , @julygivesafuck , @clockworkherondale , @nikki-sixx-is-daddy , @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

Permanent Taglist: @oreofrappiewithblueberry​ , @coffeeismylife28​ , @yllwtaxi​ , @tb-cbn

[haledamage]

Silent fury for whoever you want :3

(Jester Sending voice) GUESS WHO IT IS~

it's Nadia/Kurt again 😅 shocking, I know. I let them actively flirt this time! though they still aren't in a relationship yet...

spoilers for Kurt's 3rd companion quest and the story stuff that precedes it

---

“I’m going to get us some drinks,” Kurt announced as soon as they stepped into the Coin Tavern in San Matheus, eyeing the evening crowd suspiciously. “You think you can stay out of trouble until I get back?”

“No promises,” Nadia said with an impish grin.

He glowered at her. She winked in response.

He walked away with a shake of his head, and she found them an open table in a corner, sliding into a chair that left her back to the wall and let her see most of the room. She saved Kurt his preferred seat, the one directly in the corner that would best let him see the door.

Trouble inevitably found her only minutes later, in the form of a young Guardsman wearing the regalia of the Red Sun regiment. He saluted her nervously, looking over his shoulder at the tavern’s crowd before asking, “Are you the Legate de Sardet?”

“I am.” She gave him her most charming smile, trying not to look like the last thing she wanted right now was to work. “Do you need something?”

Without any more preamble, the soldier pulled a knife and lunged at her. She dove backwards to avoid it, knocking her chair over with a clatter. When he swung at her again, she caught his wrist, using his momentum to twist his arm behind his back and slam him face first into the table.

The knife slipped out of his numb fingers and Nadia grabbed it before it could fall, pressing it to his throat. “Is this the fabled honor of the Coin Guard?” she hissed, any hint of kindness in her voice frozen over. “Attacking an unarmed woman in a bar?”

His eyes were very green and very wide as panic and the realization that he lost started to set in. “I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me! I was only following orders.”

She inspected the boy’s face. He was quite young to be sent after someone of Nadia’s reputation; if he was over sixteen, she’d eat her hat. He was also clearly terrified, but it didn’t seem to be her he was afraid of--at least, not entirely. Though the knife she held likely made a compelling argument in her favor. “Who sent you?”

“They said that you’re responsible for the fall of the Guard,” he blurted out. “They’ve given orders to attack on sight.”

Even with her compelling argument at his throat he still wasn't telling her any names. That meant one of two things: either he didn't know their names, or he was blindly obedient to the point of suicide. A remnant of the ghost company, she’d wager; if she was wrong, she’d eat her gloves too.

She seethed in silent fury at the people responsible. The ones that had taken children like this one, like Wilhelm and Reiner and even Kurt, once upon a time, and tried to turn them into puppets and monsters.

Nadia pushed it away, swallowing it down until it wouldn’t show. He would take her reaction for pity rather than sympathy; they always did. She bottled it up so she could turn it into action later, when she finally met the infamous Major Hermann.

She let the boy go, but stood in a way that he wouldn’t be able to run without going through her. “Hmm. I did it all on my own, did I? Not much of a coup if it could be foiled by one woman acting alone. But I suppose they know better than to send you directly after Kurt, or Sieglinde, or Manfred, or any of the other honorable members of the Guard, and so they sent you to me.” She felt a presence at her back, solid and warm and familiar enough that she knew who it was without looking. “Hello, Kurt.”

Somehow, the boy’s eyes got wider. “Captain!” He fumbled an attempted salute.

“At ease, cadet.” Kurt almost sounded casual enough to hide his anger. “What’s this?”

“You know me,” Nadia said, false cheer taking the edge off the lingering chill in her voice. “Making new friends wherever I go.”

“He tried to kill you, didn’t he?” She couldn’t see his face, but whatever was there was frightening enough that the cadet tried to step back, practically climbing onto the table in his haste to escape.

She hummed in affirmation, presenting him the knife. He took from her and inspected it wordlessly. “Likely on Hermann’s command. Or his lackeys. Lad doesn’t know any better. Just following orders.” She was starting to hate those three words. The things men would try to justify under the guise of ‘following orders’ enraged her.

“You’re damn lucky she was alone when you staged your little attempt. Her Excellency is much more polite than I.” Kurt grabbed the young soldier by the front of his doublet and dragged him close, voice dropping into a growl, low and dangerous. “You ever try to touch her again and you had better start swimming, because there’s nowhere on this island you can hide from me.” He released the boy abruptly enough that he stumbled. “Go.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He ran out of the tavern without looking back.

Kurt immediately turned to Nadia, all his anger forgotten and replaced by a concerned frown. “Are you hurt?”

She tried not to appear too flustered, but her heart always skipped a beat when he got all growly and protective like that. There was something very attractive about watching him lose his cool on her behalf. His sudden proximity wasn’t helping matters, his hands gently skimming her sides, her stomach, down her arms, touching her face, searching for any sign of injury or distress.

She caught them and forced them still. They came to rest on her waist, and he finally looked up at her again. “I’m fine, Kurt. He didn’t even get close. You taught me better than that.”

His shoulders dropped with relief. “I should’ve known better than to leave you alone.”

“At least we know we’re in the right place.” She rested her hands on his arms, just above the elbow, in an attempt to offer comfort. She could only imagine how hard all of this was for him, especially on top of… well, everything else. It had been a rough week for them both. “If Hermann is sending terrified child assassins after me this quickly, he must be somewhere in the city.”

“I think you’re right.” His expression went distant, calculating, already planning two steps ahead. Then he shook it off, and his attention returned to her once more. “Be that as it may, Green Blood, I’m not leaving your side until he’s dealt with. Not for anything.”

Her eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing under the brim of her hat. “Then I guess it's a good thing my bed’s big enough for two.”

Kurt’s ears and the back of his neck flushed red at the obvious suggestion in her words, but at the same time his gray eyes went storm dark, dangerous in a new and exciting way. His hands clenched on her waist, drawing her just the slightest bit closer. "Yes, well..." he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out a touch raspier than normal, “we should… concentrate on the job at hand. For now.”

Despite his words, however, he made no move to release her, or even to put any distance between them.

It was tempting to see what happened if she pushed the subject, but Nadia decided against it. He was right. This was important, and it needed to be done before someone got hurt. For now would have to keep her warm until then.

Reluctantly, she stepped back, putting a little space between them, her hands slowly sliding down his arms until they fell away. She set aside the spark that had been kindling there in the same place she put her anger - not extinguished, just banked, and waiting for a chance to reignite.

With one last deep, fortifying breath, she turned her back on Kurt and picked up her fallen chair, dropping into it and sliding one of the mugs on the table closer. She hadn’t even noticed him setting them down, wasn’t entirely sure when he’d found time between threatening her would-be assassin and fretting over her well-being, but she let it go.

After a few seconds, he sat down next to her. His arm draped over the back of her chair in a motion that probably looked relaxed to anyone who wasn’t close enough to feel the tension rolling off of him. She leaned into it anyway, letting him pretend it was an affectionate gesture instead of a protective one, that he wasn’t scanning the room like everyone else had also been sent to assassinate her.

“So why are we here?” she attempted to clear the strained atmosphere. “Waiting for someone?”

“Letting ourselves be seen.” Kurt took a long drink from his ale. “I want him to know we’re here. Men like Hermann get stupid when they get scared.”

She was starting to catch up with his thinking. This tavern was owned by the Coin Guard. A once-respected and decorated Major like their quarry would still bend a few sympathetic ears in a place like this. Their presence here was an open taunt. "And do things like send children to kill diplomats in a bar full of witnesses? Especially a diplomat known to travel with a Captain of the Guard as her personal bodyguard?"

He grunted in agreement. “Exactly. He sent that poor boy here to be killed. To make us draw first blood. Now he’ll run straight back to his masters and tell them what happened.” His voice was as dark and bitter as smoke, but when he turned to face Nadia, he wore a soft, if small, smile. He lifted his mug as if in a toast. “So tonight, I get to have a few drinks in a decent tavern with a beautiful woman. And tomorrow, the work begins.”

She tapped her cup against his. “You’re enjoying this. Scaring the ghosts.”

“So are you.”

“I did learn from the best.” She meant it. Nadia would have been a very different person without him in her life all these years; she liked to think he felt the same way.

But whether he did or not, he clearly still didn’t know how to take a compliment. “Flattery,” he said dryly, looking more amused than anything else. “And where do you expect that to get you, Your Excellency?”

“Most likely, alone in my large, very comfortable bed.”

Kurt chuckled, and the sound was like warm brandy on a cold day, sending heat curling through her. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

[myelocin]

To Let A Good Thing Die | Sakusa Kiyoomi

Synopsis: In which you reminisce on your journey of healing, and the other, was well, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Characters: Sakusa Kiyoomi, You, Iwaizumi Hajime

Warnings: Infidelity. Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Word Count: 1.8k+

a/n: This was supposed to be for Tsukki, but I read it again and decided I wanted to mess with your Kiyoomi feelings so <3 Also! This was inspired by Bruno Major’s To Let A Good Thing Die, so PLEASE listen to the song!

Thank you to Angelo for pitching in your idea bc without it, the ending would have been completely different but as I wrote it like this, I wouldn’t have it any other way. <3

-

 “Congratulations.”

He was blunt and straight to the point but that still had you stop in your tracks to find space to sit down on the wooden floor. Pushing a half filled box to the side, a sigh would occasionally escape from you as you let yourself lean on the box.

“Congratulations.” You read out loud. “He’s as boring as usual.”  A small chuckle found its way out of your throat as you set your phone on top of one of the taped off boxes.

Sakusa Kiyoomi had appeared in your life in a mirage of colors. In your youth, he was yellow. A yellow sweatshirt worn by a boy who’d grumble when his cousin showed him affection but the way he blushed pink you swore to your six year old self that he was the boy you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. And so you saw him in the yellow sunflowers your mother grew in her little garden. Little Kiyoomi would routinely scowl when you plopped down next to him and tuck the flower you secretly plucked from the garden behind his ear. He’d scowl and tell you to knock it off, that the flower was dirty, but the rosy blush on his cheeks told you that he didn’t mind.

Then in high school, his presence danced in subtle shades of blues. Baby blue, like the sky he stood under during the opening ceremony where he stood across you, one arm stretched handing you your favorite bread, the writing in the package inked in a deep navy hue. By this time, your friendship had long matured from playdates and childlike antics to study sessions and the occasional heart to heart conversation. From an outsider’s perspective, it would have been a no brainer to conclude that the two of you were best friends. And at first, to you, that had been the case. Kiyoomi was the one who despite still scowling at you, would go the extra mile to take out the cheese on your burger before handing it to you, or would leave practice early to visit you if he noticed your uncharacteristic silence throughout the day. And if he couldn’t, he’d leave a parcel of your favorite snack inside your locker, the words “eat it and stop being like that” neatly written on a sticky note in deep, blue ink.  

And so on your third year, your smile would only widen as you scrolled through the same five selfies you forced Kiyoomi to take during your graduation. The sky being that same soft blue as that day during the opening ceremony, though only this time his head leaned against the top of yours (he always made it a point to emphasize his height), and a smile resting on his lips, his signature mask nowhere to be found.

After looking through the photos, you laid back in bed raising your right hand to look at the bracelet he silently clasped on your wrist. A blue butterfly charm hanging next to a yellow sunflower. He was never public or too showy about his affections, but you never bothered to care. He found ways to always get the message across.

During your final years of university, Kiyoomi became red. Red, like the color his cheeks never failed to bloom into when you kissed him in the mornings. Red, the color of the cherry tomatoes he always asked you to include to pack in his bento box that he took with him on the days he had to go to work. It had become your favorite color, because red meant it was the season where you’d see the Christmas stockings hanging over the fireplace next to the tiny Christmas tree that you and Kiyoomi had decorated together. Red, like the love that bloomed in your heart when he clasped a rose charm on the same bracelet he bought you years ago, the petals on the flower painted in deep red.

And then after that one Christmas season, you began to hate it. Red was the shade of the lipstick you saw smeared on the collar of his dress shirt. The color that made you begin to doubt yourself. The color that made you sneak to the bathroom in the middle of the night, because maybe, just maybe, you still had that red lipstick your friend had gifted you a year ago. Except every time, you didn’t. You always hated how red looked on you.

So you sat him down the next day, the same dress shirt with the same smeared red on the collar set on the table in between the two of you and asked him a silent “why?” And then Kiyoomi responded to you at first in silence, his head hung low, then eventually a silent sorry murmured from his lips.

You decided that you hated red, but you kept asking him the who, the when, and again the why. He sounded apologetic because you knew he was like that. You knew Kiyoomi was sorry for being caught as he explained it was a classmate he’s known since his first year in university, that it’s been happening for a little over two months, but paused before answering your question of why. You sat across from him and nodded once, lips clipped shut, because you do know that girl. You knew she always wore red lipstick because it looked great on her. But you never would have guessed Kiyoomi looked at her like that. And then he cleared his throat a little awkwardly before meeting your stare.

“I’m sorry. I just felt like we were missing something.”

This became the part where for a brief second, all you saw was red. You watched the man sitting across from you, bubbling with seething anger, your cheeks flushed and red, your lips bitten raw and red from containing yourself. Slapping him was definitely considered, but instead you reached for the clasp on your right wrist and took off the bracelet. Setting it next to the crumpled dress shirt, with the fucking red smear, you stood up said “Fuck you, Sakusa.”, turned to grab your phone and wallet, and left.

Red, was the color of the stoplight when you glanced at your phone for a quick second, your eyes automatically watering upon catching the ‘I love you, can we please talk?’ written on the screen. But green was the color the sign switched to as your resolve suddenly solidified. And you were sure, as you took a shaky breath and let the tears fall. You took it upon yourself to remember green. As you pressed on the gas pedal, and just fucking moved. Moved forward into a future without Kiyoomi. And you’d come to love the color green, because it reminded you in that standstill where all you saw were flashes of red from the anger and love that had been lost, that all you could really do from then on was just to go.

And so now, years later, as you looked at the half filled boxes littering the apartment you were moving out of you felt okay. Because two years ago, you had met Hajime at an intersection where the pedestrian lit up green. And because of him, you let go of the man who used to shine to you in colors. Let go of the red that had cut you open and left you to bleed out as an aftermath. Hajime looked at you with patience in his eyes that never faltered as he walked with your healing. The soft green in his eyes, mirroring the color you’ve grown to love, and teaching you to forgive.

You stood up after taping the final box close and labeling them correctly. Hajime pulled you closer to him as he pecked the middle of your forehead. “You ready? Oikawa wants us to drop by his place and get the housewarming gift he was talking about. Something about how it’s supposed to mean joy or some shit.”

“What’d he get?”

He shrugged as he picked up the box and headed towards the door. “I don’t know. You know how unpredictable he can be.”

You followed his actions and picked up another box but not before pocketing your phone, “He means well, Haji.”

And you know Oikawa means well as you sit on the passenger seat of the car while Hajime drives to the house you two were moving into. You know Oikawa meant that he wished the two of you joy as you held a small flower pot with a budding sunflower peeking out. Hajime looks over at you when the stoplight blinks red as the car rolls to a stop. He looks at you, green eyes gentle and patient and reaches over to squeeze your hand. “This time, this flower will mean our joy.” He says as the lights turn green and the car begins to gain momentum.

You look down at the flower pot, then back at Hajime, an honest smile on your lips. To you, twenty something years ago, yellow sunflowers meant afternoons in sunny playgrounds where you’d put flowers in Kiyoomi’s hair. And in that snapshot in time, it’s undeniable that it had given you joy. And so you let yourself exhale, because Oikawa means well, and Hajime is right. This is your joy. In the green eyes, patient smiles, and warm touches that was Hajime.

-

And later that night, Sakusa Kiyoomi found himself seated at a bar stool that had become familiar to him over the years. His first order of a whiskey sour sat in front of him as he stared into the open window to his right. His phone vibrated softly and the screen lit up against the dim lights of the quiet bar.

His eyes were quick to read the, ‘Thank you. Hope you’re doing well :)’ reply you texted him. The deep brown of his eyes stayed fixated on the screen, rereading the texts over and over again until the screen turned black.

He quickly downed the liquid that was left in the glass before he turned to the bartender. The man behind the bar nodded in his direction, “Another one? Same thing?”

Kiyoomi let his left hand move into the pocket of his jacket, feeling the familiar shapes of the charm bracelet you left. If he closed his eyes he would remember how they looked on your wrist. A yellow sunflower, a blue butterfly, and a red rose. It took him a little while but he finally understood why you associated memories with people into colors. He began to do it after you left. But now all he saw was the black of the phone screen that was staring back at him.

Picking up his phone, he let his eyes look over the text you sent him again, then finally sighed and set his phone back on the table facing down. Remembering his request to order, he looked up at the bartender still waiting for his reply.

“Can I get something a little stronger?”

-

 “Life isn’t like the movies, but it sure will make you cry when it dawns on you that it’s time to say goodbye.”

-Bruno Major

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Telling Tales.”

This story came as a suggestion from someone on the discord server, so I hope you all enjoy a break from some of the heavier stuff I have been doing lately.

The room was large and filled with noise, mostly the clinking of glasses and the clattering of voices, but on occasion the comm systems echoed with a cool female voice broadcasting announcements across the entirety of the station. 

There were at least forty tables inside the room packed in close together, with a long bar at one end where men and women alike stood standing and chatting to each other as they took their drinks. Below that was the low rumble of music, and up on all four walls, large projection screens broadcasted earth sports in delayed time.

At the far end of the room a large viewing window looked out on a wide view of space and the rest of the station. The station itself was huge, stretching out for what could have been miles and miles of tightly packed corridors and branching rooms. The station itself was a mesh of Tesraki and human technology and had been built right here in orbit….. In orbit of the thing staring at them from out in the darkness.

A supermassive black hole ringed by a disk of bright light and a halo that cut across the middle.

Honestly as McCaster stepped into the room, he found the view very disconcerting, and had the sudden worry that…. Inexplicably they would start slowly drifting towards the black hole until they succumbed to a horrendous and terrifying death. Looking around though, it seemed that no one else seemed to think so, and he ushered himself inside and over to the bar hoping that a drink might calm him down.

He sidled up to the bar leading against the metal countertop and motion for the bartender with a hand.

She slid over to where he was. She was dressed casually, though the bearing of her chin told him that she was one of the soldiers working on the station and not just a civilian. He ordered something to drink, and he came back a moment later with a metal tankard. He took it surprised to find that he missed the bright amber liquid inside cool glass covered in a layer of condensation, but he supposed having breakable drinking vessels wasn’t going to do for a ship like this.

Still, the liquid inside his mug looked a sort of muddy brown rather than a pleasant amber.

He took another sip.

Still tasted fine though.

He turned to look around the bar watching as groups of people chatted to each other , drank and ate.

Not all of them worked here, some of them, like the crew of the Omen, had stopped by for supplies and to give their men and women some time to relax and have a little fun before they had to ship out again. McCaster felt this was really his only chance for a while, to meet people off the ship.

He sidled forward eyes scanning over the room and falling on a woman. She was pretty, young about his age with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.

Couldn’t hurt right?

Unfortunately, just as he was sidling up, some other gus seemed to have the same Idea, and he sat down at her table just as two others did pausing to stare at each other across the table.

McCaster looked at the young woman, “This seat isn’t taken, is it?”

She tilted her head at him in near amusement, “I can’t control where you sit.”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind if we join you.” The other man added receiving a glower from McCaster across the table.

“You work here.” The other man asked her 

“Yes.”

“Well me and the boys here are just off from The UNSC Pioneer, finest ship this side of the quadrant.”

McCaster snorted into his glass, not trying to be a dick this time, but he knew THAT was a lie.

The other man glared at him, “What, you disagree.”

“Frankly, yes. Our ship is Objectively the best and that’s not even me bragging.”

“Oh really, and what ship is this.”

McCaster smirked, “The UNSC Omen, but I bet you’ve heard of it.”

There was a chorus of disbelief up from the other men.

“Right, and I bet you are personal friends with Admiral Vir too, right.”

McCaster frowned, “Maybe not personal friends, but I did fly with him once.”

More disbelieving booing.

He crossed his arms, “Don’t believe me huh well what about this.” he reached into his pocket to snag his ID card and then pulled it out, holding it up for the entire table to see, “See Lt McCaster of the UNSC Omen. I fly a Thunderhawk, and sometimes the shuttles.” This time the men could hardly argue, his iD said as much, at least as much about which ship he worked on and what he did.

THere was a light murmuring around the table.

“That’s right, so like ninety precent of my friends are aliens.” He was exaggerating just a little bit, he didn’t really interact with the aliens on the ship all that much accept for the Celzex that fixed the weapons on his jet, and the Drev he liked to play"  pool with.

But the blond was looking at him with interest, so its not like he could squander this opportunity

He nodded glancing sidelong at the girl. 

“Yeah, like I said, its not like the Admiral and I take lunch together or anything, ‘but’ the ship is small enough that I do run into him on a daily basis, cool guy, a bit weird though. I actually flew with him during the burg war on the Gromm home planet.”

A chorus of disbelief.

Behind him someone chimed in, “Bullshit.”

He turned to see that another table behind them had overheard his claims. There was a pretty redhead sitting there, and so he wasn’t likely to let go of his momentum. He raised his ID badge for all to see, “Not lying.” He raised his mug to his lips and took a long satisfied sip, “Disbelieve me all you wan’t but it’s true.”

“Well don’t just sit there all smug, tell us about it then.” Someone urged, and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Well, we had just been informed of the eminent Burg attack on the Gromm capital city below. I had been being debriefed by the Commander, at the time, and went with him to the bridge as we were debriefed. The Nexus was down and Burg ships were descending in swarms. They were unprotected on the planet below, and it was clearly up to our crew to stop the attack.”

His little crowd was drawing even more eyes, and he found himself with a small crowd of skeptics sitting around him listening to his every word.

He found himself speaking faster with excitement and nerves.

“I was on the bridge and watched him survey the scene, when out of nowhere he hands the captain chair over to one of his lieutenants and orders me out with him. They had orbital defences, but he knew that they had no chance in atmosphere since they didn’ have any fighter jets to push back the invasion.” he puffed out his chest, “Admiral Vir handpicked me to accompany him as his copilot and gunner.”

Another chorus of disbelief.

He shook his head, “Disbelieve me all you want, but it’s true. He knew my talents, and he knew I could keep up with him. And I tell you I have never seen a man or woman that could fly like he does.”

He had them now leaning forward in their chairs.

The best part is all of this was true…. Mostly.

“Of course, I was ready, solid as a rock, I have been training for just such situations for the entirety of my career, and I had no hesitations about what I was going to do. The Admiral was relying on me to be his copilot and damn straight I wasn’t going to let him down.” He grinned in a self satisfactory way, “He gave me charge of all the important stuff while he was flying combat…. And he made it sure in no unclear terms that if he couldn’t handle the flying, I was going to take over for him.”

Ok that was sort of a lie, but only a little one.

“I knew as soon as we were coming in that Admiral vir had an idea brewing. We didn’t go for an angled entry but instead piloted our jet straight down. I thought that the re entry was going to rattle my teeth out of my head. But as I said before I had no doubts about the Admiral. I knew we were going in, and I had inklings of what the admiral was about to do. I never questioned him.”

Also kind of a lie, but it's not like it mattered.

“We were plunging from the sky, fire spitting off our wings, going so fast it makes your insides feel like they are on your outsides. Picture the sky fading to blue behind you, fire is benign thrown off your wings like water from a waterfall, the G force is so powerful that it compresses your chest and makes it hard to breathe,” he was standing now gesturing wildly, “We plummet from the sky, and fire our guns exploding a burg ship just before it takes out one of our other fighters. We pull up right before the ground, must have been nine ten maybe even fifteen Gs.” Okay he was exaggerating, “But I stayed conscious through the whole thing.” That was also kind of a lie.

“We broke into combat with the burg drones, and I shot down at least three of them as the Admiral piloted.  He said afterwards that he had never seen someone take the shots I did and make it.” Okay yes he had been passed out for half of this, but again its not like any of them were going to know.

What harm was a little exaggeration.

“I caught one burg as we were coming out of a sharp dive, my hand felt nine times heavier than it should have, but I nailed it in the engine compartment and it exploded into a ball of fire. I was still shooting them down when the Admiral orders me to take control of the ship. Of course I wanted to ask what was going on, but there was no time, I grab the stick and manuver us into a tight barrel roll. A ship explodes behind us. I have control of the jet now complete control and I pull us up into tight pursuit of another. I avoid two missiles and in a moment of genius, I drop all of our flares, which collide with at least four burg ships exploding on impact. What I hadn’t known is that the Admiral’s hand had cramped from all that earlier flying, and if I hadn’t been there he would have died. But at that moment I had no idea and proceeded to clear enemy skies over the capital city. I dived so close to the ground that we might have crashed if I hadn’t pulled us into an inverted upwards pull for the last few seconds”

He continued to speak and as he did the fight grew even more excessive and heroic. He detailed in exquisite and colorful imagery as he single handedly flew them to safety pulling off near impossible maneuvers, crack shots and many more outlandish happenings as he and Admiral Vir valiantly switched back and forth on the controls, equals in every way.

He was just describing their great and climactic fight scene where, he had to take command of the ship once again, when he finally noticed no one was really paying attention to him. He saw their eyes, looking past him.

His voice slowed, as he looked around eyebrows furrowed.

He turned where he stood and cut off mid sentence as his eyes fell on a familiar face in the crowd.

Admiral Vir sat behind him in a chair balancing on two legs, head tilted to the side. His eyepatch covered one of his eyes, but the expression on his face was one of great and abiding amusement.

He leaned forward in his seat, “Don’t let me interrupt you lieutenant. I believe you were just getting the the part where you pull an inverted double helix back loop and I pass out drooling in the front, you just manage to pull us out of that dive, and the two burg ships are so confused by the manuver that they crash into each other and explode  catching the attention of all the other stunned burg in the area and allowing the other pilots a final push in clearing the sky?”

McCaster’s mouth opened and then closed and then opened again .

Admiral Vir continued to smile as McCaster stammered and gurgled like an idiot.

“So…. what actually happened.” Someone asked 

McCaster plopped shamefacedly down in his seat. Admiral Vir paused tilting his head in the other direction as if thinking. A good portion of the room had gone quiet as they shuffled closer to hear the stroy. He stood after a moment and walked over to where McCaster was sitting placing his hands on the back of the chair.

“Well The first part of the story wasn’t wrong. I had been debriefing McCaster and the other recruits on a few aspects of my ship when we got the call in that the Gromm homeworld was being attacked. I DID give up command to the ship of one of my lieutenants, and I DID as McCaster to fly with me as copilot.” he smiled and easy smile that seemed to light up the room around him.

Everyone within a twenty foot radius shifted forward in an effort to be closer to the man and the magnetic nature of his personality and charming smile.

“McCaster was top of his class in flight school, and I wanted an extra pair of eyes, that is true. We did take a vertical dive into the atmosphere instead of an angled entry. Yes there was fire spitting off the wings, and yes we did pull out of a vertical dive after saving one of the other fighter jets. All of that is pretty accurate.”

HE smiled and McCaster wilted.

“He did embellish a few things.” he rested a hand on McCaster’s shoulders, “But what is a good story without a little bit of embellishment? I’ve certainly never told a story that didn’t sound about ten times better than it actually was.” There was a small laugh from the crowd, “Point being that I would certainly fly with McCaster again, he is a brave, talented, and honorable member of my crew even if he is a colorful storyteller.”

McCaster looked up at the Admiral, still leaning on the back of his chair, and watched as the man made subtle eye contact with the blond girl just a few feet away.

McCaster blushed As Admiral Vir pushed his chair forward across the ground to sit next to her.

She was smiling in some measure of amusement, and Admiral Vir winked at him as he backed away. Either that or he just blinked, it was hard to tell with the eyepatch.

He turned back to look at the woman who was looking at him in some measure of amusement.

He rubbed the back of his head.

“He seems to be one hell of a wing man, in and out of a jet.” She commented 

He stammered stupidly glancing over his shoulder to where Admiral Vir had retreated to the bar, ignoring the eyes on him, hungry expressions from both men and women as he ordered a drink and sat down.

Bless the Admiral, number one for being a good wingman for sure, and two…. For not totally calling him out on all his bullshit.

Granted everyone probably guessed, but at least he could keep some of his dignity with plausible deniability.

He was able to work himself back into a state of cool suave composure, enough to learn that the woman’s name was Emily, and that she worked as a data analyst for the big black hole thing. It had a lot to do with math and physics which he totally didn’t understand, but certainly tried to because he knew she liked it.

Across the room, Admiral vir attracted ebbing and flowing waves of people coming to listen to his own stories which were mostly modest and self deprecating depictions of what really happened. Being the first person to fall flat on his face on an alien planet, how he had scared the shit out of the bran the first time he met them, how he ended up in a Rundi prison because he was being a dumbass.

There were a few times where he too tended to embellish the stories, only to preface later by saying, but what actually happened was this.

As soon as the man stepped into the room he seemed to change the whole gravity of it like  a wandering star collecting satellites.

He supposed that’s what happened when you were famous.

Thanks to him though, it turned out he got along really well with Emily, and despite knowing he was a complete moron, she seemed to like him too, and he scored her number and a surreptitious invitation to accompany her on a walk to somewhere quieter.

As he was leaving, he turned back to look at the Admiral, making surprise eye contact with him as he did.

He raised his glass minutely to McCaster before turning around and continuing his story.

He grinned as Emily took his hand,.

“So….. tell me really, how many times did you pass out when flying with him.”

He snorted, “Please, I spent  more than half of it passed out, like I can’t remember shit. I don’t even remember where the sky or ground was relative to each other for most of the time. The man can fly…. Like all that stuff I was telling you, just replace my name with his and you might have yourself a believable story.”

She laughed at his expense and he laughed too 

Thank you Admiral Vir.