#i COULD have just like. used transfer paper or something along those lines but i was both STUBBORN. AND. i wanted to draw it myself

[narsh-poptarts]

The Hex

woodcut of my MoTW character !!!!! really happy with how this came out ^^

some struggling process under the cut

EDIT: had to revamp this whole thing, hopefully it shows up now

[xkaidaxxxx]

Megumi x Chubby Reader

Pt.1

Sorry for any errors

Mentions: body shaming, bullying, self harm, suicidal thoughts

As stupid as it may seem you weren’t all that happy on being transferred to Kyoto’s sisters school : Jujutsu High. You were grateful but not happy.

Grateful you didn’t have to be stuck with those assholes who always had something to say when it came to your body. Especially Mai. There’s always something so far up her ass she has to take it out on people.

The other students loved telling you things just to bring you down.

Example 1.

At school almost every 2 months the students get ranked. You always make it to the top and always end up second. “ Maybe if you didn’t have to run so much from me you would have won. Try to lose a few pounds maybe then you won’t be running out of breath during the fight. You look like you’re about to pass out fat ass.” Mai said laughing along with the rest of the students. Even Kasumi. When you met her she was so sweet and kind. You obviously fell for that crap.

Example 2.

After a long day of training it was time to get back to your sleeping quarters. You stood in front of the door seeing pieces of papers. Foul words written on them. Pinned by Noritoshi’s stupid arrows. You knew they were true at least that’s what you thought. You thought “ I am fat. I do look like a pig. They’re right.” You took off the arrows and papers tossing them away. The night went as followed skipped dinner, showered, dressed and slept. Just to get ready for another shitty day.

Example 3

You were having lunch outside on a bench just underneath a beautiful tree. The weather was great. The wind was blowing softly. There were birds chirping happily and everything was calm. You took out your bento box from your bag and opened it up. Suddenly Todo just came out of nowhere causing you to drop your food. “ Awe that sucks and I just came over to let you know we want you to have lunch with us.” He said with a smirk on his face. “ its fine. Accidents happen.” You replied. You knew he planned that shit. They love making your life miserable. “ you can always eat it off the ground. A fatty like you loves food. I mean…a pig like you would eat anything even if its on the ground right? Well sorry about your food.” He said and left. You cried. That’s all you could do.

As time passed by you were mentally and physically scared. Not just from the missions you’ve gone on.

You sat in the bathtub. The water turning red from the open wounds on your thighs. You didn’t have to worry about people caring or finding out. You always wore the basic male uniform.

You let the water drain and took a regular shower afterwards cleaning up the cuts you wounded yourself with. You cried while doing it.

Days went on and there was one cut after another. Your thighs were full so you went onto your left wrist then to your right. There was a night that they crossed the line. They circled you and pushed you around. You were getting dizzy from the shoving and the wounds were opening up a bit. They all noticed and went silent. Mai laughed hard. “ Wow so pathetic. You’re slowly killing yourself isn’t that torturing. You should hurry up the process fatty. I’d gladly do it for you if you ask nicely.” Everyone’s eyes widened. They couldn’t believe what she said. Yes they bullied you everyday making you cry and make you do self harm but they’d never go far like Mai did. They’d never say to kill yourself and have you ask them to kill you. Make the process faster. “ Mai what the hell are you saying” todo asked. She looked over at him with a confused look on her face. “ she’s wounded. We have to help her” Noritoshi said. “ I d-don’t need help.” You said getting up carefully and in pain. You cried all the way to your room. Mai’s words repeated over and over again in your mind. Then you snapped. You grabbed one of your tools and slit your wrists. You bled out.

Gojo was on roaming the halls pretending like he didn’t know the way to the principals office. He was there on a ridiculous meeting like he doesn’t already know what shady shit is happening. He noticed red stains from the door. He decided to walk in. Seeing you on the ground he quickly took care of your situation.

You woke up at the hospital 2 days later. He was sitting besides you on the left with his students behind him. Your parents on the right. “How are you feeling kid? I’m Gojo. Your new teacher. Things are sorted out with the school and your parents.” He said bring his students up to you. “This is my son Megumi and students Nobara and Yuji.” He introduced them. They all waved hi and Megumi didn’t react rudely to what Gojo called him. “ oh sweetie we’re so glad you’re okay. My love.” Your mother said. Crying along with your father. You didn’t respond to anything. You just sat there in pain.

A month passed. You finally settled into your new dorm at your new school.

Your room was neat and beautifully decorated. Clean cut purple bedding. Perfect white furniture. Posters of Taylor Swift hung on the wall. Your bookshelf was decorated with all the merch you had of her. Along with books you actually need. “Nice set up.” Gojo said looking around. “Thank you sir.” You replied turning to face him. “ here’s your uniform. I put in a request to have it customized.” He said handing to you. “ you grabbed it looking at it. This is basically almost a mini skirt if I wear it.” You said feeling uncomfortable. “It covers a bit of your scars. The thigh high socks will perfectly hug you. The white spaghetti strap goes well with the navy long sleeves over it. I think it makes you look pretty.” He comments honestly. You were shocked he called you pretty but also doubt it. He probably said it because he feels sorry for you. “Change. Class starts in 2 hours. Don’t be late y/n” he said walking out closing the door behind him. You locked the door and started changing into your uniform. You stared at yourself in your body mirror. He was right the thigh high socks did hug you perfectly and the skirt was actually a skort. He probably knew your bottom would show during combat. The shirt was alright along with the navy sleeved added over it. It’s going to take a long time for you to get use to it. You felt so exposed and you hated that. Your hair was clipped back with two small strands let go at the front. You never wore make up. You thought it was pointless for some god apparent reason. As you put on your shoes you saw the clock. 15 minutes til class. You quickly grabbed your backpack and quickly got to class. You stood at the entrance taking a deep breath. This is it you thought. You walked in minding your own business.

Nobara smiled at you. “ Hi! Welcome to jujutsu high! I’m Nobara and these are the idiots Megumi and Itadori.”she said excited to finally have a girl on her team. From past experience you chose to not believe her. “I’m y/n l/n. Nice meeting you guys.” You replied. The boys waved hi. Megumi looked you up and down. At your previous school that meant bad news. Megumi was practically drooling because of you. He liked the puffy that showed from the socks and how the skirt was hugging your sides. The shirt showed a bit of cleavage. You made him choke. “Megumi sit down class starting.” He was called back to reality and quickly sat down. “Y/n introduce yourself and say a fun fact about yourself.” Gojo said. “ I’m y/n…a fun fact about me…I um..” you thought hard. “ I love Taylor Swift.” You said. “Really!? Holy shit finally I don’t have to hide my obsession. Twins!” Nobara said. “What’s your favorite album. 3 2 1” she counted down. You answered with Folklore and she responded with 1989. “Sit next to me.” She said. You smiled. Moving your things next to her. “ Ladies settle down. Finish the work we started yesterday.” He said. Yuji and Megumi went over to you girls making the desks into a circle. Megumi sat next to you. Everyone took their books out. “ um we’re on chapter 16. You have to read pages 150 to 165 then answer questions on pages 166 to 170.” He said. Helping you. Nobara and Yuji were surprised. Megumi is a quiet guy. Cares but doesn’t show it as much. “We can reread it.” Nobara said.

Mid way into class you guys worked on the questions together. “Question 10, which situation is best when there’s a people in the surrounding area during a fight?

A. Build a barrier around them causing protection.

B. Leading the curse into a unpopulated area

C. Leave a member behind to evacuate the area

D. None of the above” Yuji said. It was a crazy question for you. During missions your teammates didn’t care to help you. You were always on your own so you don’t know how to respond.

“Y/n go.” Nobara said putting you on the spot. “ well um..it’s messed up leaving a member behind..it wouldn’t help the situation. The curse could aim directly at them. Kill them and then who will protect the people. The barrier would help but only for a while due to the distance if the soccers leaves. Leading the curse to an unpopulated area is the best bet. There will be destruction of property but the people would be safe so B?” You explained. You had a headache just from answering that. “Alrighty we trust you.” Yuji said. They all answered B.

Gojo was looking over. Teamwork is always building. Quite quickly.

Days passed you were eating on the roof. Megumi showed up. “Why are you up here eating alone” he asked sitting down. “I always eat alone.” You responded feeling pathetic. “Not anymore. You’re doing great by the way. We’re all impressed.” He praised you. He never thought there was a day he’d praise someone. “ thank you for being nice.” You replied eating. “ I can’t imagine…what you’ve been through..I mean..your thighs..and your sleeves rose..we all like you here.” He said eating his food. You were taken a back. “L-Leave me alone that’s none of your business!” You yelled tears threatening to slip. “I don’t mean to offend you. I’m just saying you’re strong..you overcame all of it..and we do love having you here. We’re a team. Remember. Teammates care for each other.” He said rubbing your back. You calmed down and ate in silence.

At a distance Yuji, Nobara and Gojo saw Megumi rubbing your back. “She’s been here for 3 weeks and he’s hitting on her. I must be dreaming.” Nobara said. Yuji agreeing with him. “ He was drooling the first day of class.” Gojo commented. They all walked to the cafeteria.

Megumi burped loudly feeling embarrassed afterwards. You noticed his flushed cheeks and giggled “someone loved his lunch.” He turned his face away. “ Megumi..everyone burps.” You spoke sitting up.

You’re on your second month at jujutsu high. Stupid visitors decided to show up. Outside forced to see the assholes who hurt you. “Wow you look the same. Brave of you to wear that uniform. It shows your stomach fat.” Mai said. You just held your tears back. “Yeah I.. I’m planning to change it.” You said remembering all the events from the past. “ She looks so pretty. You’re just a skinny rude as bitch with no ass. I’d advise you to workout on your ass.” Nobara defended you. Maki showed up. “ see you’ve all met my sister.” She said annoyed. Mai looked offended and suddenly got angry. “ you’re defending someone like her?” Todo commented. “watch how you talk about her.” Megumi said getting very upset. “ Who are you? Her pathetic boyfriend?” Kasumi said. “ so what if I am?” He said throwing her against the wall. He lifted her from her neck. No one has seen Megumi this upset. Kasumi choked gripping onto his hand. She was kicking trying to release from his hold. She was about to be out of air until he tossed her away. Kasumi was coughing hard. “Watch how you talk to her and how you talk about her.” He said. As Mai was about to attack Maki blocked her. “Leave my people alone. Otherwise things won’t end nicely. I’m sure you wouldn’t want any of your friends dead.” You couldn’t believe what just happened. Megumi was choking someone and the sisters are treating each other like shit. “You okay?” Megumi asked. Nobara rubbed your back. “We’re with you. Don’t let them get to you. Plus there’s a lot more to love.” Yuji said hugging you. Megumi face screamed jealousy. “Thank you guys.” You said pulling away softly.

Two days went by they were hell. The games were so different and difficult this year. “I hope I didn’t scare you..I know I lost my mind. I don’t know where that came from.” Megumi said handing you tissues. You were crying to Taylor Swift. He knew she sang all of your feelings. You blew your nose. “It’s fine I’m happy you all defended me.” You kept crying. It’s what you needed. Let your emotions flow out. You guys laid down. He pointed at the stars. Random topics were talk about. As morning came you woke up. You were surprised you made it through the night.“I didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. Was I too loud?” he said. “ no no I woke up good ” You said embarrassed. Camping was fun. You couldn’t help but feel alive and calm . It was the weekend. You decided to camp out with Megumi. Nature helps emotions. He said that.

He was right. It showed you that you’re falling for Megumi. Hard. “Come on!” He yelled just over the river. As you caught some fish you headed back. Best meal made during a camping trip. “Mhm fuck this is good.” Meg said eating like he’s never eaten fish before. You finished your food rather quickly. “After this we’re going swimming. Did you bring a bathing suit? We do have a shower to clean up. I brought some shampoo and body wash.” He said. Megumi was very excited to see you in a bathing suit. He would be so lucky to see you in one. You could say he’s being perverted. “Yeah I did actually. A purple one. My favorite color.” You replied. He mentally noted your favorite color is purple. “Alright!” Yuji said scaring you both. “ guys the water is crystal clear. I took some photos.” Nobara said sitting down.

About an hour passed. The water was cold as fuck. “ Love the bathing suit by the way.” Yuji said giving you a thumbs up. “ Nobara chose it out. I was kind of doubtful about it.” You replied. “ you look great.” Nobara said giving you a hug. You love your friends. You saw Yuji’s displeased face looking on ground. You turned. “Great.” You commented. Nobara was also pissed off. “ shouldn’t you guys be training? Instead of being lazy?” Kasumi asked standing next to mai.You wanted the stupid games to end already. They need to get their shit and leave. “ Shouldn’t you go fuck yourself.” Yuji said. You guys laughed. This was just awesome to witness. “Hm? Mai shouldn’t you be worried about your life? Todo shouldn’t you be finding a girlfriend or are you too much of a pussy to be rejected?” Megumi was flabbergasted. “What about you momo? Shouldn’t be at hogwarts playing quidditch? Mechamaru shouldn’t you be worried about having a fucking plug pulled. Noritoshi shouldn’t you be impressing the right people? Playing your part.” Yuji said. They all just left. “ Yeah that’s what I thought!” He said. They were too defeated to even turn back and say something. You guys laughed. “ M-my stomach hurts” nobara said and kept laughing. “H-holy shit Itadori” you said.

The camping finally ended and you all went back to your dorms. You saw your ex classmates right at your door. Great those assholes don’t know how to let things go. “ What a nice surprise. You guys missed me?” You said setting your things down. Grabbing the keys out of your pocket. You heard the door open. “ No need for the key darling.” Mai said. “ You know that bathing suit…was something. It’s crazy how you think they’re your friends. I mean we’re honest about how you look. They straight up lie to your face. You’ll always look like a fat cow. You will never amount to anything. You will always be the last resort. The last person to be chosen or might not be chosen at all. You will never the best at anything. You know we all see how you look at Megumi. You should forget about finding love. No guy will ever love you. No guy will ever think you’re beautiful. You’ll never be fit for love. Literally. We decorated your room. Hope you like it.” Mai said. You cried. “ Cry baby.” Momo said leaving with them. You walked into your room. Your special bedsheets were torn. The albums you bought were broken. The posters were crumbled up on the floor. You saw your clothes on the ground with ink splattered on them. Your sketch book burned and this one crossed the line. The quilt your grandmother made for you, torn. You cried of sadness and of anger. “ Hey…” Megumi said. He looked at the decorated room they left behind. “M-egumi I- I can’t take this anymore.” You cried. He held you. He let you cry it out. 3 hours. It took 3 hours. You remember a line from Taylor’s recent album. Midnights. Vigilant shit. “ Don’t get sad, get even.” You whispered letting go of Megumi. “ huh?” He looked at you. He saw an expression on your face he’s never seen before. “ They’re going to pay. I have to get even. I am sick and tired of all their shit. I’ve had enough.” You said grabbing your bow and arrows. “ Don’t stoop so slow.” He said blocking the door. “ Megumi shut up and move.” Nobara said tossing him aside. “I’m all in. I have your back. Always.” You nodded and smirked. “ Gojo is going to lose his shit if you guys act up.” Megumi said looking at you worried. “Woah they’re so getting their ass beat.” Yuji said looking at your trashed room. “ We need a plan.” Megumi said.

After your amazing plan of stealing their clothes and burning them, putting nair in their shampoo, leaving them without toilet paper and breaking their tools. The next day the 4 of you sat in the principals office with Gojo. “You guys clearly don’t know how to behave. You’re out there acting like hooligans. Acting like you guys have no fucking home training. How dare you make such a scandal.” Principal Masamichi yelled and went on for about 25 minutes. “ well Gojo have anything to add. “Your punishment starts now. Get up clean our classroom. I want it spotless. All the tools in the school are to be cleaned as well. I don’t care how long it takes.”he said sternly. You all left the room and started cleaning like Cinderella. “ so…whose idea was it?” Gojo asked. “ the clothes was Nobara. The nair was y/n and Yuji. I did the toilet paper and tools.” Megumi replied. Gojo had a smirk on his face. “ Good job kids. You should’ve added food coloring into their body wash and lotions.” He replied. You guys smiled. “ Next time. For sure.” Yuji said. “ I’m in on it next time but you all are taking the blame if we get caught.” He said helping you guys clean.

[astranite]

Cotton Candy Bubblegum Icecream Means Sticking Around No Matter What.

A fic for @squiddokiddo of Gordon and their oc Sea-Squirt Tracy with some fluffy hurt/mostly comfort between siblings, for a hope this cheers you up even a little as you’re hurt too and this is the closest I can get to giving you a proper (very gentle) squid hug.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57426040

Squirt drawn by Squiddo here!!!

.💛💛💛

“Hey Squirt, how are you doing bud?

Gordon sat down on the side of their bed, transferring several plushies to his lap so he didn’t squish them.

The kid frowned, hugging the fin of their giant ikea shark closer. That had been a fun trip for them both when they got it together.

“Sore.”

“Ouch, yeah no wonder. ” Gordon scootched a bit closer. “I getcha, back and neck injures aren’t fun at all.” He had plenty of experience in that department.

“It really sucks, Gords.”

“I know and it does, a lot. You did really well on the misson though, I’m proud of you. For all of it but also for taking care of yourself too when you were hurt so Virge and I could look after you.”

Squirt reached out the hand that wasn’t holding onto the shark to hold onto Gordon’s hand.

“Thanks.”

They paused for a moment then cracked a small smile from beneath the pain. Gordon knew that smile well. “I totally did it for the stickers though. I got two, a manta ray and a blob fish.”

Gordon grinned along with them, leaning into the joke, the laughter, the tiny bits of joy that could be grasped in a rough spot. “Aww those are cool creatures. Virgil only gave me one last time!”

“That was because it was a literal paper cut. From y’know, wrapping paper. I liked the gift though. ”

A couple of sea creature erasers wrapped up in shiny yellow paper that Virgil would recycle into an art project was a something just because to cheer Squirt up a bit when they were having a rough week. The tiny paper cut part was regrettably true. Only regrettable that he should’ve known he could find another sea flap flap sticker, it had just been hiding. It would’ve still would up stuck to Squirt somehow.

“I was most grievously injured, young Thunderfledgling.” Gordon pointed out the largest of his hydrofoil scars on his forearm, a long line of pinkish-white sliding up its length.

Squirt snorted with laughter then winced.

Gordon squeezed their hand. “You ‘kay?”

“Yeah. Ouch. Everything really hurts.”

“Alright. You just say if need me and Virge to check you over again if its not getting better and we can work out whether we need to go to the hospital.”

Squirt made a face.

“Yep, I mean my reaction exactly. They’re shit places to be but important.” Gordon ruffled Squirt’s hair, ever so gently and brushing the ginger curls so those deep brown eyes could definitely see him and know he meant it. “I’m here for you though and I’m going to stick by you whatever happens. You’re my little sibling.”

Gordon let it sink in for a moment.

They didn’t need to say anything as Squirt slowly shuffled to lean into Gordon’s side, more difficult with their injuries.

Gordon put his arm around them to give them a hug, extra careful because he cares about Squirt ever so much but sure and steady so they know he’s got them.

“You wanna watch something together or anything?” He offered.

“That’d be nice.”

“There’s icecream in the freezer I can get you too if you want it.”

“What flavour?”

“How does celery sound?”

Squirt raised a scathing ginger eyebrow. Okay they nearly squinted the other eye closed at the same time but they did it! Wow though they were spending way too much time beating John at chess for them to have picked that mannerism up so vividly.

“I’m kidding! I got you bubble gum and cotton candy last time I was doing groceries and I know for a fact where Alan hid the popping candy and where John and Scott decided to put the sauces cause they are way too tall for the rest of us.”

That got another little smile from Squirt as they pulled up the tv menu from the holoprojector in their room.

Even though they were hurting, Gordon loved to get to spend some time with his littlest sib and would take care of them no matter whether that was resting up here or trips to the hospital, laughing with them or comforting them when everything go too much, all the while doing his best to be a safe harbour they could return to in the storms.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What’s yours is mine 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape, allusions to abuse, stalking, possessiveness, pregnancy, and more tags to be added.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: dark!Ransom Drysdale x pregnant!Reader

Summary: After five years, your past is far behind you but just as you think you can live your happily ever after, your ex shows up at the worst moment.

Note: I couldn’t sleep and ended up writing this and it will not be a long ongoing series but it will be a few parts. But Roo you say that all the time. Yes, well, I’m trying and I’m sorry but I’m gonna try to not be the worst.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“Oh my god, is that really you?” the voice made you stand stalk straight.

You took a breath and forced a smile before you turned to the indomitable woman. You never expected to see Linda again, not after you broke up with her son almost five years ago. And there she was, as rigid and righteous as ever, her thin lips curved in a mocking grin.

“Linda,” you greeted her in a singsong and looked around the grocery store. You never went to the overpriced organic market but your local shop didn’t have dragonfruit and you had a painful craving, “how are you?”

“Darling, I’m just great,” she held an empty basket on her arm, an odd sight as you never expected her to do her own shopping, “oh, and look at you!” Before you knew it, her hand was on your stomach and you struggled not shy away, “how far are you?”

“Um,” you looked down at the large ring on her finger and resisted the urge to step away as you often did in this situation, “almost five months.”

“And married?” she grabbed your left hand and pretended to admire the small teardrop diamond, “gorgeous.”

“Mhmm,” you waited for you to release you and swayed in place, “you barely look a day older than the last time I saw you.”

“You’re well? You look well,” she primped her short hair at the compliment, “oh, a baby.” She reached out again and you sighed as she rubbed your stomach, “for luck.”

You tried not to frown and ended up laughing at the tension, “well, it was nice running into you.”

“Oh, you know, I barely come down here but we’re headed up to my father’s place, you remember, such a cozy house, and Joni is in charge of food and well, I wouldn’t trust her with a plastic spoon so of course, I have a back up plan.”

You nodded along with her awkwardly, frozen in the spot as the dragon fruit barely seemed worth the torture. Linda was hard to please and alway derisive, but for as long as you were with Ransom, she had taken a keen shine to you. That alone came with an edge but it was rarely used to cut you.

You forced another laugh, “that sounds fun, getting away from the city.”

“Ugh, just another family gathering,” she waved it off with her free hand, “I’ll have to tell Ransom I ran into you, if he even shows up.”

“Well, I don’t think--”

“He’s grown up so much,” she interrupted, “you wouldn’t believe it. He got his own imprint in my father’s company publishing true crime. He’s really making a place for himself now.”

“That’s great,” you tried not to falter at the mention of her son. You hadn’t ended on the greatest terms and your relationship had been tumultuous and regrettable.

“I hope you have a great weekend, Linda,” you said, “but I got to--”

“Oh, not at all, I’m keeping you,” she squeezed your arm, “God, he was such an idiot to let you go.”

You nodded and swallowed through your tight throat, “I’m glad he’s doing better for himself.”

“You too,” she trilled, “oh, before I let you go, darling, is it a boy?”

You blinked and your smile wavered, “how did you know?”

“I could always tell,” she said, “so precious.”

She gave your stomach one last pat and disappeared into the produce section. You blinked as you looked down at the scaled fruit in your right hand. Chocolate, you needed chocolate.

You were rattled as you waited in the express line and put your things on the belt. You hadn’t thought of Ransom in a very long time. Not much. His shadow followed you around in those moments when your heart raced and your head spun, but you had learned to work through those fits. No one else knew what happened behind closed doors, they only knew Ransom, not Hugh.

You paid and shoved your fruit and candy into a paper bag. You headed out into the misty spring air. The rain had finally stopped and left the streets slick and shining. The sun was hazy as it clung to the last of the clouds and you inhaled the wet scent of grass and gravel.

You let your key hang from the ignition as you took a moment to gather yourself. You stared at the modest ring on your finger and held your stomach and you swore you could still feel Linda’s bony hand there. 

You had a loving husband, Dez, and a son on the way. Ransom wasn’t a part of any of that and this was just a blip on radar, the aftershock of the storm that ended years before. You sniffed and turned the engine. You wouldn’t go back to that store, it was far too expensive and the clientele were certainly not of your ilk.

🍼

Dez was in the kitchen when you got home, the smell of steak and peppers rose from the frying pan. You kissed his cheek as he kept one hand on the spatula and you dropped your bag on the counter beside the stove. You went to the fridge and poured yourself a glass of water. You turned and leaned against the marble and drank deeply.

“So, hon, how was your day?” he asked as he put the spatula down and peeked in the bag, “hmm, odd pairing but I don’t hate it.”

“I had a craving,” you shrugged, “it was… okay,” you heaved, “what’s for dinner?”

“Steak fajitas,” he said, “I trimmed the fat for you and,” he turned and reached out to you, “and I got you some champagne… non-alcoholic, obviously.”

“You know it doesn’t have the same effects,” you kidded as you put your glass down and settled into his arms, “and well,” you looked down at your stomach, “we already got one drunken night growing.”

He laughed and bent to kiss you on the lips. He rocked you as the pan sizzled behind him. You closed your eyes and tensed as suddenly your head flashed with the memory of Ransom, of the way he’d kiss you, harder than Dez, and the way it always turned to more whether you wanted it or not.

“Hey,” Dez pulled back, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “hormones.”

“Aw, hon, well I have the perfect dessert planned,” he purred.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, strawberry massage oil,” he framed your face with his hand, “a nice long back rub…”

“Perfect,” you giggled, “why are you spoiling me?”

“Don’t I always?” he smirked.

“Hmm, rarely without reason,” you said.

“Well…” he voice trailed off and slowly he dropped his arms. He turned his back to you and grabbed the pan, stirring the contents with a shake, “I didn’t want you to miss me too bad.”

“Miss you?” you came forward and bent your arms over the counter, “where are you going?”

“Chicago, there’s some evidence down there we need to look at and they refuse to transfer it to our office so… bullshit confidentiality clause, but we need it.”

“How long?” your heart dropped.

“Well, I gotta leave in the morning but I told Gary I won’t stay longer than Monday.”

“And what did he say?”

“He laughed,” Dez shook his head, “I promise, I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can--”

“No, I understand,” you said gloomily, “it’s just…” you cupped your chin and tapped your lips with your fingertips, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said as he turned the burner off, “and this little guy,” he touched your stomach and you shivered as you remembered how Linda had done the same with her cold palm, “so, you choose a name yet?”

“Still not naming him Superman, babe,” you chided, “but no, I can’t make up my mind. God, it’s like my mind is in shambles, I can’t remember why I go in a room or even focus on one thing for more than two minutes before I’m distracted by what colour I want to paint the nursery and I can’t even decide on that because then I’m thinking about what kind of wood the crib should be--”

“It’s fine, you’re fine,” he assured as he opened the bag of tortillas, “you’re still there, you’re just… sharing a brain right now.”

“Wasn’t enough to go around in the first place,” you scoffed.

“Shh,” he arranged the plates carefully, like a five star restaurant, tortillas stacked, steak and veg together, a little dish of cheese, some sour cream, lettuce, salsa, all divvied out in a spectacular salsa you would only make a mess of.

“I thought the pregnancy would give me a chance to finish my book, but--”

“Well, you got maternity leave after that,” he said.

“From what? Sitting at my keyboard and crying? I’ll just be holding a baby and crying,” you sighed, “you said you’d take some time off.”

“I did say that and I will,” he grabbed the plates and nodded you out of the kitchen. He set the plates on the table and you sat as he went to grab two glasses and as many bottles. He poured you your spineless champagne and had a beer for himself, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You can’t take forever off,” you muttered, “we both know that. I could go back to copywriting and maybe--”

“Babe, that job made you miserable and you will finish your book,” he handed you a napkin, “I’ve read your stuff, it’s… you said your ex was in publishing?”

“Did I?”

“I thought you did, you never really… talk about the exes, which I love but, I think you said something about it. You don’t think he would--”

“No,” you snapped, “no,” you said softer, “he wouldn’t.”

“Sorry,” he said startled by your reaction, “I didn’t--”

“It’s nothing, I just-- exes, right?”

“It was a stupid suggestion,” he said, “I’m sorry, but… I have a client, he might have some contacts.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“I don’t have to, I want to because the world deserves to hear your voice,” he insisted, “I hate to share you but I’d be selfish to keep you to myself.”

You smiled and unfolded a tortilla. Still, your heart raced as the second mention of Ransom that day had you on edge. Dez watched you build your fajita and you looked up at him.

“Well, since you’ll be in Chicago, maybe I’ll get a few pages done.”

🍼

The call came on Monday, Dez wouldn’t be home that night. You contented yourself to stay in with your laptop and sugar cookies. Still, you barely got a sentence done before you snapped your computer closed and gave up with a frustrated grunt. You slept, not well, and got up with some trouble as your hips ached.

A good morning text from Dez made you smile but there was still no promise of an impending return. You felt pent up in the apartment and lonely as its emptiness reminded you of your absent husband. Too tense to sit down and type, you opted to go for a walk, hoping it would calm your nerves.

You walked past the shop windows and stopped to peek in at used books and handmade candles. You had no destination in mind, only a restless step. There was a little store at the corner with locally made quilts and knitted sweaters. The smell of potpourri wafted out from beneath the painted door and made your throat tickle. Even so, your curiosity drew you inside.

A small woman greeted you from behind the desk. She held two needles as she crocheted some indistinguishable craft. You smiled and said hello as you headed down the centre aisle. You looked along the racks of quilts, floral, striped, plaid, and polka dot. You stopped at a bright yellow piece with honey bees along the border. You hadn’t thought of yellow for the nursery.

You felt the soft fabric and checked the tag. You lifted the quilt from the bar, content that it was worth it and a great motivator. You stopped before you could turn back, a familiar voice chilled your blood.

“It’s cute,” Ransom said as he stepped up next to you, “kinda girly for a boy though.”

You glanced over at him and folded the blanket over your arm. You backed up but as you turned he did too. He blocked your bath as he stretched his arm across the aisle.

“My mother told me you were expecting,” he said, “and she was right, you look good.”

“What do you want?” you whispered as you clutched the quilt.

“Nothing, just saying hello,” his mouth slanted.

“Hugh, I’m not stupid,” you hissed, “it’s been five years.”

“Hugh,” he repeated dully, “you remember your manners.”

“Leave me alone and let me past,” you tried to duck under his arm but he shifted his body over and backed you up to the end of the aisle.

“And married,” he taunted.

“He’s outside,” you lied, “if I stay too long--”

“I didn’t see him when you walked up,” he intoned, “he must be easy to miss.”

“Have you been following me?” you uttered.

“Only from the cafe,” he shrugged, “short walk.”

“Please, get away from me,” you quivered.

“I’m not doing anything--”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hissed, “now I will scream so move.”

“Mama Bear,” he crooned, “I love it, you’re so protective.”

“Hugh,” you warned.

“Sweetie,” he hummed.

You shoved his shoulder but he didn’t move. You hit him harder and he winced. He chuckled and stood straight. He waved his arm down the aisle and stepped aside.

“Don’t make a scene,” he said, “you always did like to be dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, “don’t come near me again.”

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me,” he called after you as you dropped the quilt on the counter, “we were so good together.”

You left without buying, a shrill apology to the lady at the counter as you went as fast as you could out the door. The bell tinkled after you and the door clamored shut. You felt nauseous and dizzy. The last thing you wanted or needed was to ever see that man again.

[capseycartwright]

what about buddie + small town au for the short fics ?

Buck had never imagined he’d end up back in his hometown, years after he first left - but after years of travelling, it had sort of made sense to end up back in small town Texas. He’d trained with the fire department in Dallas, and transferred up to the bend-in-the-road town he’d grown up in and (mostly) hadn’t looked back.

He’d had his reasons.

It just turned out that his reasons had ran as far from their hometown as they could, in the end. Buck - he’d been hurt by it, but he hadn’t been bitter about it, he wasn’t bitter about it. Life just - life wasn’t meant to work out in their favour, but that didn’t mean life was bad. Buck had bought a house, a house of his own, and he had a job he loved, and his sister was back in his life, and he could be happy. Really, he could.

August in Texas was one of Buck’s favourite times of the year. Not the beginning of the month, no, but toward the end of August, as the weather slowly started to change, and the sunsets seemed to get longer and more golden and fiery and orange, and it reminded Buck of those long hot Texas summers he’d lived so many of, growing up, working long shifts at the grocery store, and -

Well, being with Eddie.

Eddie Diaz. Eddie Diaz was Buck’s reason for leaving, and he’d been Buck’s reason for coming home. Buck had been a freshman, when Eddie was a sophomore, and Buck had been head over heels for him from the moment he’d spotted him at tryouts for the baseball team - Eddie had been a vice-captain, and Buck had trailed along after him like a sad puppy, frankly, and it hadn’t been until the summer after Buck’s freshman year of high-school that Eddie Diaz had picked him up in his beat up old pickup truck and they’d gotten milkshakes and driven out into the desert and Eddie had kissed him like Buck was worth something and he’d spent the whole summer desperately in love.

That was why Buck loved August.

He loved August - and he hated September, because that was when Eddie had ended it, and shattered Buck’s heart into a million pieces. He’d sort of held onto the desperate hope that Eddie might come back to him again, but then he’d heard from Eddie’s mom that he’d moved up to Austin, to go to college, and he’d dropped out and gone and gotten fucking married and six months later Eddie was a goddamn dad and Buck had ran as far and as fast as the could.

Still.

August reminded Buck of happier times.

Switching on the hose, Buck set about rinsing off the soap from the firetruck wheels. Dallas had been hectic, and busy, and constantly moving, and life back at home was quieter, and there was time for chores in the firehouse - and Buck always volunteered to wash the truck, just so he could watch the sunset, or the sunrise, the front doors of the firehouse garage open and the golden sand of the Texas desert stretching out for miles ahead of him.

It was a reminder, in a way, that regardless of how much it felt like everyone in town was in Buck’s business (especially his dating business), he was still a tiny, insignificant speck in the grand scheme of the universe. It was oddly comforting.

“Hey, hotshot.”

The voice was unbearably familiar, as Buck slowly turned to see Eddie standing in the doorway of the firehouse. He was still in his fatigues, and Buck tried to swallow the angry bitterness that rose in his throat as he gazed at the familiar camouflage print, Diaz printed in black, blocky letters on Eddie’s chest.

He’d clearly just gotten home.

Eddie’s smile was the same, soft, half-crooked smile it was when he was eighteen and he was at the centre of Buck’s entire universe. “I heard you’ve moved home,” he continued, voice soft. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here again.”

Buck twisted the hose he was holding in his hands, careful fingers smoothing out the line before he replied. “I thought I had a reason to come home,” he said simply, looking everywhere except at Eddie. “But I was wrong. Clearly.”

“Buck….” Eddie stepped forward, his forehead creased with worry.

“Eddie, don’t,” Buck shook his head. “You called me, from fucking Afghanistan, crying, because you missed me, and you begged me to come home - and when I got home, Shannon was the one to tell me that you’d reenlisted. Without telling me, Eddie.”

“I had to, Buck.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Eddie - it might work with your parents, or Shannon, but it’s not going to work with me,” Buck dropped the hose, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d wanted Eddie for the last ten goddamn years, and he still wanted him more than he had the words for, and he fucking hated the bones of Eddie Diaz for making him want him, still, even after all this time.

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I was terrified,” he admitted. “The divorce papers - they’d just been finalised, and I was terrified because I didn’t know how I was going to be a father to Christopher when our family was so broken - and all because of me,” he paused, voice shaking slightly as he looked intently at Buck. “And I was terrified of how I felt about you, Buck - because we were together for one summer, and somehow you’re all I’ve ever wanted since.”

“Eddie.” Buck didn’t know what to say - how to react.

“I know I can’t fix everything with a few nice words and an apology, Buck,” Eddie said, moving his hand, the bandage on his wrist visible for the first time. “But I’m here - for good, this time. So, I - uh, if you’d have me, Evan, I’d like to take you on a date. A real first date, this time - with dinner and drinks and not in the back of my truck.”

Buck couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I seem to remember us having a lot of fun in the back of your truck, that summer,” he teased, enjoying the way Eddie’s face flushed the most delightful shade of pink. “Eddie - I’m not the same person I was, ten years ago.”

“Neither am I,” Eddie reassured. “But I’m excited to get to know the person you are now, Buck. No - no stress, no expectations. Just me and you.”

And, well -

Maybe Buck didn’t hate September all that much, anymore.

send me a pairing & an au setting and i’ll write you a mini fic

[melo-yello]

📚School Struggles📚 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku💥🪨 HeadCanons

Pairings: KiriBaku X Black!Reader

Summary: College AU! Reader falls behind in course work, and won’t tell anybody. But Kirishima and Bakugou find out.

A/n: I’m an adult who went most of my life with undiagnosed learning disabilities so this would just be comforting to me. Lil angst! Lots of fluff. Implied ADHD and Dyslexia.

📕🖊 First tests are handed back in four of your eight classes.You’ve failed all but one which you barely passed. You are asked stay back as yet another professor suggests you find a tutor

📕🖊You’re lowkey offended. You’ve never needed a tutor before. Up until recently your performance in other areas compensated for your less than stellar academics. You were in gifted courses all your life. You would just hafta try harder

📕🖊 Kiri and Baku are saving a spot in line for you by the time you meet them at the cafe when you shove the thoughts of failure out of your brain and perk up to your usual self

📕🖊 Kiri’s face lights up as soon as he spots you. “Over here, Babe!” He beams flagging you down. Like it was hard to make out the giant red head in a crowd. Especially with the large lean, continuously pissed blonde scowling at everyone right by his side.

📕🖊 “Hey,Dumbass.” Baku smiles slightly and pulls a hand from his pocket to offer you a hug and a kiss on the temple

📕🖊 Kiri pulls you by your waist into his torso kissing your forehead “What took you so long?” He asks letting you free from the vice grip he had on your curvy hips

📕🖊 “I got a lil turned around again.” You lie pulling Bakugou’s free hand into yours then lean into his shoulder. There’s something very comforting about how warm he is all the time. You wanted to snuggle into his back but PDA really isn’t his thing and you are already pushing it

📕🖊 “It’s a big campus, Teddy, you just have to get used to it. You just transferred. Me and Eiji can take turns walking you from class to class until you get the hang of it, you know?” Baku says trying to read your eyes. He could just feel something is off. Your box braids and the angle itself saves you from any further scrutiny.

📕🖊“You guys, gotta be pretty sprung to do that for me, ya know.” You quip smirking up at him then over to Kiri. “Fuck you too, Teddy Bear.” Baku huffs smirking *maybe he was wrong, unlikely* “Yea basically, Pebs. Liking who you date is super manly.” Kirishima laughs grabbing his tray.

📕🖊 You three finally sit in a small wrap around booth. Bakugou taking the middle spot today. You do your best to not zone out and hyper fixate on your test scores by making sure to laugh at Kiri’s jokes and nod along with Baku’s venting

📕🖊 You slide your fork in and out of your picked over food as you strategize how to fix your current problem without alerting your boyfriends. Before you knew it your table is quiet with two crimson gazes fixed on you

📕🖊 “You’re quiet today, L/n.” Bakugou says fixing you with a deeply fierce gaze which was his way of looking concerned. Sharpness of your actual name drew you from your thoughts in a instant. “Hmmm I think Kats has a point, L/n Y/n.” Kirishima says in between slurps of his smoothie. His red eyes practically dripping with curious concern

📕🖊 You make a quick split decision between the truth and charm. “Wow, my government. I must be in real big trouble.” You pout trying to flirt your way out of a more serious conversation. You poke out your plush bottom at Kiri while slipping a hand onto Baku’s inner thigh and gently squeezing before hitting him with the same seductive pout

📕🖊 Big Mistake!😳 Bakugou’s vermillion eyes widen before becoming instantly stern as he grips your wrist tight enough to hurt. “The fuck are you doing?!! I was being serious, Y/n! And in public?!! You’re fucking priceless!” The ash blonde hisses with angry pink cheeks. Guilt washes over you when you snatch your wrist back. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to...talk about it.” You mumble. “Then use your fucking words!” 😤 Bakugou kisses his teeth and stands so Kiri lets him out. “He’s just a little embarrassed, Pebble. I needa talk him down. You can find your next class right?” He sighs watching Baku storm out

📕🖊 “Yea. I’m sorry. Tell him, Kiri. Please.” You squeak sheepishly grabbing your stuff. “He knows but I will. He’s mad about other stuff.” He nods following after Bakugou

📕🖊 It’s intimidating to compete with their history at times. You couldn’t bring yourself to just dump all your issues on them

📕🖊 You’ve only been dating since summer and Kiri and Baku have been dating since their senior year in high school year. You guys are starting your junior year and are still learning each other.

📕🖊 You get lost a couple times before finding the right building. The noise in your head going nearly at light speed to wrap all the problems you’re having. The professor passes the test you’d spent majority of last night and early morning studying for. You felt confident until it was in your hands.

📕🖊 You chew the pen top trying to finish up the last 7 short answer questions when then alarm for 5 minutes left is given. You panic not even having started the true false section on the last page. You scribble down answers just as time up is announced across the classroom

📕🖊 Defeat washes over while you shuffle out the door. You reach in your pocket to dig out the card for Student Accomidation Services your World Civ professor gave you. Maybe this was something simple as a “processing problem” as she had explained when you visited her during office hours

📕🖊 A throat clearing pulls you from your thoughts. You jump stuffing both hands into your jeans card and all. Bakugou stood unreadable propped up on a wall only a few steps away from you. “Eiji, thinks we need to talk about the cafe. Plus he doesn’t get out of lab til 3:45, so you’re kinda stuck with me.” Bakugou mumbles offering his palm as an olive branch.

📕🖊 “He’s probably right. I don’t mind just you, Tuff Guy. I really am sorry though, Katsuki.” You sigh interlocking your fingers with his. “I know, Teddy. I wasn’t really mad about that anyways.” Baku concedes as you two stroll down the hall. “I didn’t hurt your wrist earlier, did I?” Baku asks softly opening the door and meeting your eyes with gentle concern. “Nah, You didn’t, King Explosion Murder.” You laugh giving his hand a firm squeeze before kissing it

📕🖊 The walk to your dorm is quiet and peaceful. He lets you settle your school bag before speaking again “I just feel like you’re still trying to hide parts of yourself from us, especially me,” He says looking into your eyes now, “Like you’ve been pulling back. Eijirou thinks I’m looking too deep, but I doubt it. I know I can be a little rough and mean sometimes...well a lot of the times. I’m not easy to get along with. But you know you can talk to us when you’re upset or if something bothering you... if I’m bothering you. I don’t like you feeling like you have to pretend to be ok if you’re not.” Baku finishes crossing his arms tightly across your chest.

📕🖊 You dig your nails into your palms mercilessly. You open your mouth to reply and reassure him but the words won’t come. Baku notices what you’re doing to your hands and steps closer to take them into his. He rubs slow circles into the backs of them. Hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to find your voice. “Kats, I’m...I didn’t me...I...Of course you’re not what’s bothering me.” you croak out just as tears roll down your face and Baku pulls you to his chest.

📕🖊 Your breathing hitches and you just let yourself be disappointed, confused, frustrated, and upset about the last month and a half of struggling and wondering why you couldn’t tell anybody and why no one was even noticing. But He did. Baku had noticed. He rocks gently as you tremble in his arms rubbing firm circles in your lower back.

📕🖊 You two stay like that for what seems forever. Once your breathing evens out Baku’s hold relaxes. He kisses both your temples.You reluctantly let go , so you can pull wrinkled failing test pages from your backpack. “Please don’t laugh at me, Suki.” You peep placing the cause of your meltdown in his hands not attempting to have your puffy eyes met his red ones. Lifting your chin so you’re looking him in the eyes. “Come on, Teddy Bear. I wouldn’t dare.” He nods with the most serious face

📕🖊 Bakugou is quiet for a while as he leafs through the exam papers. “Why didn’t finish any of them?” He asks “Time. I’m a slow reader.” You mutter back. “I’ve seen you doing homework for two of these courses and passing those, what’s happening?” Baku says staring in disbelief at the scores at the top of each exam.

📕🖊 You swallow the lingering fear of judgement. You place a hand at your temple to remind yourself of Baku’s earlier tenderness. “I get anxious. It gets so much harder to read when I’m that worked up, and I can barely focus once I start forgetting answers...I know it’s just a test. I guess...That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” You sigh shrug off your own explanation.

📕🖊 “Nope. Not dumb at all. Sounds like test anxiety to me. I struggled with that in high school . I didn’t know you were a slow reader, Teddy.” Baku says pulling your hand before you can dig your nails into it. “Yea. One of my professors thinks I have dyslexia and ADHD...but I’m not stupid sooo.” You hum rocking on your heels “That is not what either of those words mean, and I know you know that, L/n.” Bakugou growls he absolutely hates when you or Kirishima talk down on yourselves. “Yea but it feels like it though.” You sigh biting your lips

📕🖊 Before Baku can say a word, Kiri swings the door open. “Babes! Have you two hotties missed me?” The red head shouts coming through the door way smiling until he sees your puffy eyes and tense posture. “Bakugou Katsuki, I know you fucking didn’t?!!” Kiri questions suspiciously leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrapping a protective hold around your waist.

📕🖊 “The Absolute fuc-” Baku’s defensive rant is cut short as you kiss the hand holding yours to quiet him as you answer Kiri “No Eiji, he didn’t. I’m flunking like half my classes.” You huff meeting his eyes with quivering lips trying your best not to cry all over again

📕🖊 Kiri is stunted into complete silence. The only thing he can think to say is an apology to his boyfriend for jumping to conclusions. Last time he checked your GPA’s a lot more impressive that his. “How the fuck is that even possible? You transferred into the honor courses.” Kiri says completely baffled moving to where he could see your face.

📕🖊 You explain to your boyfriends all the things that have been tripping you up and confusing you. You detail how hard studying has been as far as staying focused and actually understanding lengthy test questions

📕🖊 Kiri has a million questions at first but stops half way through after Baku grabs your overnight bag and leads you out the door. “You’re gonna freak her out all over again, Shitty Hair, if you keep going at her like that.” He could tell you were getting overwhelmed, and might cry again “My bad, Pebs.” Kiri says kissing your cheek as he follows behind

📕🖊 Once you get back to their apartment and Baku askes for your help making dinner. He has you read the directions and ingredients to him. You stumble through most of it, but that doesn’t stop him from praising you as soon as you finish. He has since learned you and Kiri do best when told how well you’re doing vs his typical shouting method

📕🖊 The three of you set an assessment time with the Student Disability Services on campus that doesn’t conflict with the Boys’ schedules, because they insisted that they’d both be there to support their baby and wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses for an actual reason to miss it

📕🖊 Kiri helps you make flash cards for your next test. If he remembers nothing else from Baku’s tutoring sessions the importance of repetition is drilled into him...among other things. Each time you ask him how that went he’ll just shudder. “It was the most intensely terrifying experience of my high school career, and we fought villains pretty regularly.” Kiri deadpans before grinning like the Cheshire Cat and covering his head. “You’re full of fucking shit, Shark Week! I’m the best tutor you assholes could hope for.” Baku yells pushing Kiri’s face into his pages of notes.

📕🖊 The night before your disability assessment you find yourself tossing and turning at like 4:45 in the morning. Kiri repositions pinning you in place so you face Baku’s back. You trace soft shapes into him just before he flips meeting your eyes. “Lil early isn’t it, Babygirl?” He whispers brushing away a few stray box braids covering your face. You don’t bother answering and instead offer him your palm and he takes it without hesitation interlocking your fingers with his. “Nervous?” He hums when he feels the steady trembling of your hand.

📕🖊 “Katsuki, what if there’s nothing wrong with me? What if it’s just me? What if I’m just...” you trail off not sure if you want him to hear how much this subject shakes your confidence. Bakugou moves close enough for your foreheads to touch. “If you’re just not smart? Not even possible. Whatever it is me and Kiri will help you go beyond. I know this is scary, but every first usually is.” Bakugou smiles softly

📕🖊 “Bbbbbuuut maybe I’m just du-” You attempt to argue until a sharp nip on the side of your neck where Kiri was peacefully nuzzled quiets you. “Nope. Not a chance. Pebble, don’t talk shit about my girlfriend again.” He mumbles in a gravelly half sleep voice. He settles again and snakes an arm around hips as he tugs Baku into you with the other. You open mouth your more to defend yourself but KatSuki just bops your nose as he closes his eyes, “You heard, the sexy ass red mountain. You’re fucking smart. Go back to sleep, Kay?”

📕🖊 “Kay.” You sigh digging your face into the crook of Baku’s neck. You lay there out argued but feeling overwhelming loved, so you chose to let them win the debate. The boys hardly agree on most things so they were totally probably right about this one anyways.

📕🖊 You are on a very very short list of people who Bakugou Katsuki repeats himself for. Like boy lets you “huh?” the fuck out of him. He will often cup your face or hold your hands if he needs tell you something important b/c he understands you’re a tactical learner

📕🖊 Best believe that all your future successes in classes big and small will be celebrated you getting taken out for icecream and if it’s a graded paper they’ll put on the fridge like you’re in grade school. You find it a little embarrassing but it really makes you feel like you’re making progress

📕🖊 Kiri brings your favorite snacks for study sessions so he can reward you for right answers and staying on task. You call it “childish” at first until he shrugs “Oh my bad we can try something els-” about to put them away. “Noooooo no those are my favorites.” You nearly jump over the table. Kiri has a shit eating grin the rest of the study session

📕🖊 When giving directions from the passenger seat both Kiri and Baku typically do a good job of remembering you need them to point left and right

📕🖊 If you’ve had long day in tutoring and homework and you guys are watching anime Bakugou will read the subs to you. Sometimes if he’s in a particularly good mood he might even imitate a voice or two

📕🖊 Kiri would politely let you ramble about one of your niche interests and will help you get back to your point when you get lost in a tangent

📕🖊 Don’t let these two hear you call yourself “dumb” or “stupid” Kiri will just act like he can’t comprehend what you’re saying like deadass “Pebs, speak English please. Nope not catching that, Babygirl. Did you say you were a smarticle particle? An intelligent ass motherfucker?! Oh, of course you are!” While Baku is more like “Sorry what was that? I thought I heard a very accomplished and creative thinking ass bitch say something? A incredibly capable ass bitch say something?A smart ass bitch say something?” Your only response is yes and then you get a forehead kiss

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

[yungidreamer]

Fatherhood Seonghwa

There is a small chance I will do this with other members, but let’s see.

Summary: Seonghwa and his wife decide to try for kids, something they both have always wanted. The news they have a baby on the way is almost the happiest moment of his life, along with all the experiences to follow.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Content warnings: like 80% fluff, 20% smut. Very adoring relationship that follows them having a baby and the adventure that is. Pregnant sex, emotional sex, lots of sentimentality.

taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon​ @ateez-angel​ @little-precious-baby​ @choisans-dimples​ @twancingyunhoe​

Music: To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra and Cinnamon by Jome

They had started trying a few months ago and she had never expected to see the second line on the test so soon. Excitement and nerves flooded her as she looked at the little plastic stick. She had thought they would have a little more time, though she couldn’t think of what they would have needed it for. Seonghwa had been making plans since they first discussed trying. Plans for the babies room, plans for names, plans for clothes and accessories, and had even spent hours online already looking at strollers, cribs, toys, swings, and gliding rockers. Every day he came home with another plan or idea that had popped into his head during the day, a bright sparkle in his eyes as he told her all about it.

Part of her wanted to just snap a picture and send it to him right away, but she didn’t want to miss seeing his reaction. It was sure to be priceless, so instead she went to find a little box she could wrap up and give him as a surprise over dessert tonight. They needed to have something special, but she couldn’t let him know until the time was right.

“You ordered dinner for us tonight?” Hwa noted as he came in after work.

“I wanted to have my favorite meal tonight,” she answered, coming up to give him his hello kiss. “I was just hoping you wouldn’t be late today. The pancakes aren’t as good when you have to heat them up again.”

“You could have told me and I would have been sure to be home on time,” he scolded gently, his hand resting on her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “If there was something important… I could have waited.”

“Next time tell me,” he insisted. “Then I can at least let you know if something has come up so you aren’t just waiting on me.”

“But I didn’t have to wait,” she pointed out.

“I just want to know, love,” he pressed a kiss to her temple before brushing past to change before dinner. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right there.”

She nodded and walked to the kitchen to check on the two little cakes in the fridge at the same time she got drinks for the both of them to go with dinner. Hopefully he wouldn’t come poking around in there. If he saw them, she thought he might start suspecting something was up.

Setting a plate and a drink for each of them on the coffee table, she wrapped herself in the throw on the couch and turned on a little something for them to watch while they ate. Seonghwa quickly returned, now dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, and cuddled in beside her, plate on his lap. She couldn’t keep her hand from pressing against her stomach now and again as she ate small bites of the kimchi pancakes tucked in against his side.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, having noted that she was pecking at her food more than eating it.

“Yes, just taking my time,” she shook her head, making a special effort to take a bigger bite.

“You aren’t dieting are you?” He turned to look at her, setting his plate to the side. “If we’re trying, now isn’t the time to be trying to lose weight, my love. Do you want to take a walk after dinner?”

“No, no, I mean, we can, but I’m not trying to be careful about eating,” with a sigh she set her own half finished plate down and started to get up. “I’m just nervous. Look I got us something special for after dinner and everything.” She pointed out as she headed to the kitchen to get the two little strawberry shortcakes… and the little ‘gift’ she had wrapped for him. Seonghwa stood up, following his wife into the kitchen to see what she was upto.

“Grab a couple of small plates for me?” She asked as she opened the refrigerator door.

“Little forks too?” The question was spoken over the slight clang of dishes hitting each other and then the counter.

“Yes please,” she agreed, carefully removing the box from the shelf. “Can you make a couple of coffees as well?”

“Of course,” he agreed, happily pulling a couple of mugs from the cabinet. Transferring the cakes to the little plates, she took them out to the coffee table, tucking the present in the folds of the blanket as she waited for him to come with the hot, coffee filled mugs.

Seonghwa emerged from the kitchen, a broad grin on his face as his eyes landed on the red and white dessert. He loved how loving and thoughtful she was, always happy to make a special effort...just because, and he loved it.

“Thank you, jagiya,” he kissed her cheek, holding the little plate in his lap. “I love strawberries.”

“I know,” she giggled, loving the tickle of his breath against her ear. “I wanted to talk to you about something, though.”

“Is it about trying?” He questioned, stiffening slightly in his seat, a flutter of nerves filling his stomach. “Are not ready? We can wait if you aren’t--”

“No, wait… are you not ready?” A quick jolt of worry when through her at how quick he was to talk about waiting.

“No, I just thought, maybe you weren’t,” he soothed. “And as much as I want to have a baby with you, I want us both to be really ready for it. It would be okay, if you weren’t yet. I can wait for you.”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, grasping the little box in her hand as she began. “You don’t have to wait.” Handing him the box, she bit her lip as she watched his hand take it, a little questioning look flitting across his face. Flipping it over, he carefully tore open the wrapping paper before lifting the lid off the box. It took him a second to recognise what lay on the puffy cotton lining but when it hit him, an expression of absolute delight came across his face. His jaw dropped and he pulled the test out, looking closely at the little window.

“Two lines mean baby?” He asked, letting the box drop to the floor.

“Yes,” she nodded with a bright smile.

“We did it?” He asked, his eyes flitting between her face and the test. Giving him a confirming nod, she took the test and put it on the table with their deserts. Emotions burst through Seonghwa like a flood. He didn’t think he had ever felt joy like that before in his life. Tears obscured his vision as he leaned forward to bring his lips to hers in a kiss of pure happiness. A thousand thoughts went through his mind in a jumble of questions and plans, hopes and dreams.

“There is so much I have to do,” he gave a watery chuckle, kissing her eyelids as he pulled her into his lap. “We need to paint the baby’s room soon so the paint isn’t too fresh when the baby comes home. And furniture. It will need somewhere to sleep, unless we are co-sleeping? Even if we are, the baby will still need a crib for naps. What about maternity clothes? Should we go shopping--”

“Aein, let’s just be excited for tonight,” she laughed sweetly. “We can plan tomorrow. For today, just kiss me?”

“Forever,” he promised, framing her face as he took her lips in a celebratory kiss.

“Hwa, can you loosen your grip a little,” she asked as she lay on the exam table for their first ultrasound.

“Sorry,” he gave her a chasened smile. “I’m just so excited. I want to meet our little bean. It doesn’t feel real yet even though I know it's in there.”

“I know,” she nodded, looking down toward her belly. “What if the test was wrong? What if it’s not there when they check?”

“It will be,” his voice was full of confidence as he smiled down at her. “And if it isn’t then we get to keep trying. I’ve enjoyed that part too.”

“Hush,” she snapped quickly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “What if the doctor came in?”

“Then they would know how madly in love with my wife I am.” He gave a shy smile and rubbed her hand between both of his, letting out just a little of his nervous energy. She just shook her head and let it fall back onto the paper covered pillow. In only a few more moments the door opened again and a neatly dressed middle-aged woman came in dressed in cheery yellow scrubs.

“Hello everyone,” she smiled down at them both, making her way over to the other side of the exam table. “This is your first visit with us, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa said from beside his wife. “Will we be able to see much this time?”

“Well lets see,” the nurse gave him a patient look. “First thing I need is for you to lift your shirt and tuck this in to keep the gel from getting on it. And then we will undo your jeans a little and put this towel over your lap to keep those clean as well.” She nodded, taking her shirt up and tucking the towel in over it as the nurse lowered the waistband of her jeans and tucked a second towel in around her hips. “Very good. Let me grab the gel from the warmer and we can get a little on your tummy so we can see baby more clearly.” She turned and pulled a large bottle from a holder on the wall. Putting a generous blob onto the now bare tummy of the mother to be, the nurse picked up the sensor of the ultrasound and began her examination.

Seonghwa leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen filled with smudges of grays that went from almost black to almost white. He practically held his breath as he waited to see something, though he wasn’t sure what he was really looking for.

“There we are,” the nurse said, looking at the screen.

“There what is?”  He asked, seeing only a black blob on the screen.

“Right here,” she pointed at a small spot inside the black blob. “Do you see that little flutter? That is baby’s heartbeat.”

“That’s it?” He stood up to lean closer, as if getting nearer the screen would make it clearer.

“That’s it,” the nurse chuckled. “I know it is hard to see and it doesn’t quite look like a baby just yet, but it is there and the heartbeat looks good.”

“It’s okay? It’s really there?” She asked, eyes glued to the same place as her husband’s.

“Everything looks wonderful,” the nurse confirmed, handing a tissue to Seonghwa to wipe away the silent, happy tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

“Okay, do we want it to be cherry or black?” Seonghwa asked as he looked at the baby furniture set they had chosen on the website.

“I like the cherry better,” she replied, biting her bottom lip. “I know you like neutrals and all, but I want the baby’s space to have some color and warmth.”

“What about the wall color?” He turned to look at her directly, pulling her against him as he looked up into her face. “We don’t know if it's a boy or girl yet. Are we going to wait to know before we pick colors?”

“I was thinking… I don’t want to know,” she told him nervously. “I think I want it to be a surprise.”

“You don’t want to know?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “What about baby clothes and toys?”

“Well there are plenty of clothes that work for both and I was thinking of a mint color for the walls of the room,” she looked at him, cupping his cheek as she looked into his questioning gaze.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Warm natural shades for our little whoever. What about a theme? Maybe make it like a secret garden? Plants and butterflies and flowers?”

“I like it,” she grinned. “Someplace relaxing and welcoming to take care of baby.”

“Good, cherry it is then,” he leaned his head against her chest, taking a moment to listen to the sweet sound of her heartbeat.

“Can we get some netting to put around the cradle?” She suggested. “We can put some flowers and stuff on it rather than a mobile.”

“I love the idea,” he giggled. “What about daisies and those little black and white butterflies? I could dangle some with fishing line so they look like they are floating?”

“Oh I love it,” she gave a happy sigh. “The room has so much light. Let’s hang crystals in the window, get rainbows sparkling on the walls.”

“Rainbows all over,” he chuckled. “And a little moon nightlight.”

“Thank you for indulging me,” she said gratefully.

“Indulging you? No, jagiya,” he beamed. “I love the idea of our baby growing up in a safe little garden surrounded by rainbows and butterflies.”

“Yeah?” She kissed the tip of his nose.

“A little garden for our little fae,” He nuzzled, lifting his lips to hers. “Our baby is going to be so beautiful, just like their mommy.”

“You mean like daddy,” she corrected with a chortle.

“No love,” he shook his head. “You always take my breath away, my love. If we have a baby that has your face, I would consider them to be so lucky.” Unable to think of something to say to that, she settled for pulling his face to hers, giving him a warm, sweet kiss.

“Did you know little Hyunjin is the size of a mango right now?” Hwa asked, not looking up from the book he was reading from beside her on the couch.

“A mango huh?” She asked, splaying a hand on her sweater covered bump. “Actually that sounds really good right now. I don’t suppose we have any, do we?”

“Mango? No but I can run to the store,” he let the book close and started to stand up.

“No, you don’t need to do that,” she waved at him to come back and sit with her on the couch again. “It’s just a whim. I’m not even that hungry at the moment.”

“But you are hungry,” he said, moving to go into the kitchen. “Fruit? I think we have some, let me see what we have,”

“No—” she started before giving up as he disappeared into the kitchen. “I don’t need to eat anything at this point. I already feel like a whale.”

“What was that, babe?” He asked, carrying a bowl stacked high with fruit.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I’m just… not that hungry at the moment.”

“But our Hyunnie needs plenty of energy to grow big and strong,” he coaxed gently. “Grapes for my babies?” Seonghwa held a couple up near her mouth and made little om-nom-nom sounds at her.

“I don’t know that I want to eat,” she sighed tiredly. “I feel… gross.” She cringed at her own words.

“Gross?” He sat up ramrod straight and looked down at her slumped figure.

“You don’t have to say I’m pretty or something,” she huffed, slouching down into the couch even more. “I know it’s hormones and stuff but I don’t like feeling like I am huge and bumping out in all the wrong places.”

“Wrong places,” he sputtered, placing the bowl of fruit on the table.

“Forget I said anything,” she sighed, pulling herself into a sitting position. “Just hand me the fruit. I’ll eat.”

“Um-mmm, no love,” he shook his head, hooking a finger under her chin to bring her eyes up to his. “Don’t I tell you every day how pretty you are so sweet and round with our baby?”

“Yes, but you have to say that,” she shook her head and looked away.

“I have to because it’s true,” he assured her, pulling her to sit in his lap. “Every time I look at you my heart swells with gratitude and pride that you are carrying my baby. I look at you and I fall in love over and over. If I woke up tomorrow and didn’t know who I was, my heart would still know you, my love for you is so deep.”

“I know you love me,” she shrugged. “But I don’t think you find me pretty like you used to. I know I don’t.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, picking her up to carry her to their bedroom. “You’re even more beautiful to me now.”

“You don’t have to say that,” she shook her head as she clung tightly to his shoulders. “And you don’t have to carry me. I know I’ve gotten heavy.”

“Shush, you are light as a feather, my love,” he said as he stepped confidently through the hallway and into their room. Laying her on the soft duvet as close to the center of the bed as he could manage, he turned on the string of lights that wrapped around the top frame of the four poster bed, bathing them both in their soft, warm glow. “I’m an idiot to have let you feel like you are anything but a goddess like this.”

“Look at me,” she huffed and hid her face behind her hands. “My hips have gotten huge, I have all these stretch marks, my boobs don’t fit in my bra right, my thighs are bumpy, and look at how my arms even jiggle.”

“Your boobs have grown,” he agreed, giving a thumbs up and giving an approving wink and click of his tongue. “More to fill my hands.” Reaching out, he gently cupped them with his elegant fingers. “And the stretch marks, I’ll never be able to see them without feeling so much gratitude for how you got them. You’re like magic; growing a whole new person inside you.”

“It doesn’t make them any prettier,” she shook her head.

“They are pretty to me,” he soothed. “Let me look at you, my love. It’s been a little while hasn’t it? I’ve been so worried about not making you uncomfortable with my wants, I made you think I didn’t have them. Let me show you how much I still want you.”

“You don’t have to make a big show of it just because I feel ugly,” she gave him a half smile.

“It’s not a show,” he insisted, guiding one of her hands to come and rest on the erection confined in his slacks. “I want my beautiful wife. I want to hold her and feel her around me again. It’s been too long.”

“Not just to make me feel better?” She made him promise. “You really want me?”

“So fucking much,” Seonghwa stretched out beside her, turning her hopefilled face to him. Closing his eyes he pressed his lips to hers and took a moment to feel the brush of their softness against his own, feeling a sweet pang course though him. The soft whimpering sound she made when his hand slid down from her face to graze along the side of her neck undid him and he found himself groping clumsily to remove their clothes like he was a bumbling teenager all over again.

As quickly as he could manage, and with far less grace than he had hoped, Seonghwa pulled off both of their clothes, leaving them as physically naked as their emotions were. He had been holding back, trying to give her space and provide her with every comfort and meet her every need. The first few months nothing had changed almost to where he wasn’t sure the baby was still there until he touched her tummy or he saw the weary nausea the little creature caused her. But when that first pooch started to show he started being cautious. First, just being sure not to let his weight rest on her too heavily, then having her straddle him when they made love. Slowly he noticed how she moved differently and became shyer with letting him see her like that. He hadn’t pressed her, or asked her why, not wanting her to feel pressured by his wants when she had already given him so much.

He coaxed her to lay out on the duvet, open to his gaze, and sat up beside her on the bed. His eyes traveled the length of her from head to toes and back without hesitation, taking her in. She was so beautiful. It was obvious to him now, and he should have asked, that it hadn’t been discomfort or a lack of desire that had brought that reluctance from her. It had been shame in her beautiful body. She hadn’t wanted to be on display when they made love.

“I’m sorry I let you think even for a moment that you were anything less than beautiful,” he apologized gently.

“You didn’t,” she tried, but Hwa gently touched her lips.

“When you pulled away I didn’t ask,” he shook his head. “I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are. Something I should do every day. I won’t slip again.” He swore, lifting one of her arms so he could kiss the inside of her wrist. “Every day I’ll pick something about you and sing it’s praise until you understand the way I love and adore every inch of you.”

“You don’t have to,” she looked up at him, reaching to pull him close. “Just make love to me.”

“Hush,” he teased. “Let me do this right.” Reaching out, he spread a hand out over her stomach, gently rubbing the soft roundness there. “I think I want to start with this. This beautiful curve that says how much you love me. So much that you let me fill you with new life and are loving and nurturing it in a way I can’t for almost a year. It’s… such a gift. And when I look at you all round and full, all I can think is that I would do it a hundred times just to see how breathtaking you look filled with my baby.”

“You don’t find it… weird?” She asked, watching his hand move over her belly.

“Weird?” His brow furrowed.

“I mean aside from being fat,” she pulled herself up on her elbows and looked at her stomach like it was something foreign to her. “There’s someone in there. And I think they can already feel and hear what’s going on.”

“It is a little funny,” He admitted, curling up beside her so he could press his forehead to the bump. “Hello little Hyunjinnie. You should know how much I love your mommy. You are here because we wanted to have something so special together. I’m going to make love to her and you’re just going to have to close your ears for a little bit. Because she was my wife before she was your mom, so I have prior claim, okay?”

“Hwa,” she laughed.

“My child and I are coming to an understanding, okay?” He laughed, a joyful sound though his expression looked slightly pained as it was wont to do sometimes.

“I love you,” she laughed, a happy tear sparkling down her cheek.

“Now,” he said, moving to lay down on the bed and guiding her to roll onto her side so he could spoon her from behind. “Let me make love to the most beautiful woman on earth.” He slid one thigh between hers and pulled her flush against his body. Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, he let his hand wander, cupping her breast and stroking down the curve of the side of her belly until his fingers reached the apex of her thighs. He could feel her becoming damp and slid a teasing fingertip over the soft slit of her lips.

“Oh Hwa,” she breathed, arching against him.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered into the shell of her ear.

“I need you like I need air right now,” she murmured, using her hand to guide his fingers to brush her pulsing clit.

“I left my girl alone for too long,” he cooed. “I let her go feeling unloved when I really wanted nothing more than to live buried inside her. To make our two bodies one.”

She moaned as he made circles around her sensitive nub.

“Please,” she begged breathlessly. “I want you inside me. I feel so empty without you.”

“Empty,” he teased, speeding up the movements of his fingers. “When I’ve left you so full?”

“It’s not the same,” she whined.

“I know,” he soothed, kissing her shoulder. “Come for me like this and I’ll fill you up with all of me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the feel of his fingers and the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck. Her body fluttered and Hwa whispered praise for her beauty and her heart. She came apart in his arms, becoming a squirming mess as he held her against him. The sounds of her pleasure drove him wild. He had missed this, had missed the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, and the sound of her going wild at his touch.

“I love you,” he whispered as she came down, holding her and nipping at her sweat salted skin.

“Hwa, you promised,” she whined, grinding back into his lap.

“I will,” he promised, pulling back enough to reach into the bedside drawer. Pulling out their old familiar bottle of lube, he got himself ready to enter her waiting body. “Are you ready for me?”

“I have been… so long,” she sighed, lifting one leg up to allow him access to her body.

“Angel,” he murmured, pulling her close and lining up his body with hers. “You are so beautiful. You are my everything. Thank you for giving me the gift of your love and this.” His palm caressed her bump as he pushed inside her. “Everything you bring to my life is a gift.”

“Oh Hwa,” she groaned, twining her fingers with his as he held her flush against him. He whispered words of love as he slid himself in and out of her body enjoying the sensation of her surrounding him, something he had been too long without. She was his haven and his comfort and the closeness made his heart swell in his chest. He could feel the prickle tears tickling the back of his eyes as emotion rolled through him like stormy waves.

His orgasm hit him with the intensity he hadn’t felt since their wedding night, that first time when he was with her when she was really his. It wasn’t their first time, but it was the first time they belonged to each other.  It had meant everything to him and for a moment he had worried she would judge him for letting the rush of sentimentality overwhelm him as he collapsed onto her. Instead she had offered him love and comfort, entwining her limbs with his until he couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other began. He had laughed and cried and held her until the light of dawn had shown through the window of their hotel room. Only then had they let exhaustion pull them under. He would never forget the shine of her skin in the milky light of dawn. That perfect moment had not been matched until this one as they lay together, spooning and sticky in the candle like glow of the string of lights.

“My everything,” he panted, pressing a kiss to the back of her head and balling their fists together as he kept himself buried inside her as he slowly went soft.

“Love you,” she slurred sleepily, letting her eyes close.

“Do you need help changing babe?” Seonghwa asked from the opposite side of the dressing screen.

“No, I don’t think so,” she sighed, fidgeting with the gauzy sleeve of the maternity dress. She stepped out from behind it, feeling a little self conscious with her belly out on full view.

“You look beautiful,” he beamed at her, leaning down to give the baby a kiss before leaning in to press a second to her lips. “Ready for some pictures?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, waddling forward. “I’m just not sure about the bare belly thing.”

“You look incredible,” he assured her. “But we can make some adjustments if you want to cover up a little more.”

“No, its okay,” she put a hand on her lower back as a little dull pain flared there. “But I’m warning you. We are having some little alien moments with Hyunjin on the move.”

“Hmmm?” He asked, his eyes locking on her belly as he walked beside her.

“Here,” she turned so he could see the other side and paused, giving the lower part a little pat. After a second the tiny outline of a hand pressed back.

“Well, hello there baby,” he cooed excitedly, brushing a hand over the little bump.

“I think we are doing some somersaults getting ready to come out,” her voice was a little breathless and strained. Seonghwa straightened up and moved to support her as they walked over to the place that was all set up for their pictures.

The photographer took a few candid pictures as the couple moved around to get comfortable. They were one of the most precious couples he had had the honor of photographing. Seonghwa was clearly smitten for his wife and their unborn child and his wife glowed when she looked at him. They were that sort of forever couple, he had decided moments after meeting them. Death was going to be the only thing that pulled them apart, and with any luck, that would be decades and decades in the future.

“Oh god,” she whimpered, holding onto the bar as she knelt on the bed in the delivery room, another contraction squeezing her.

“You’re so brave, baby,” he praised. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer now.”

“Hwa it hurts,” she wept, her face contorting as the pain peaked again.

“I know,” he gave her his best watery, brave smile. “But you’re doing such a great job. I promise I will change every diaper the first month if you just keep pushing.”

“I’m trying,” she ground out between hiccoughs of pain.

“You are and you’re doing so well,” he cupped her cheeks as the nurse reached between her legs to catch the baby as it emerged. She let out a sharp cry just before the shoulders finally came out, allowing the baby to soon come out with just a couple more pushes.

Hwa looked down at his sleeping wife, holding little Hyunjin in his arms.

“She worked 36 hours to bring you into this world, you know,” he murmured to the baby as it slept against his bare chest. “We should both try to be very, very nice to her, okay?”

Hyunjin fussed slightly and Seonghwa bounced them gently to lull them back to sleep. Another hour of sleep for her he hoped. The baby would need to nurse but she needed a rest. She looked so small in the bed, slightly pale and exhausted. Understandable, he thought to himself, after pushing out a person today.

“I’m coming,” she murmured quietly, padding down the hall to the baby’s room. Seonghwa was still asleep in their bed, but if he heard the baby fussing, he would be up in a flash, either offering to bring the baby to her for a feeding or trying to heat up a bottle she had pumped over the last couple of days.

She suspected Hyunjin wasn’t really hungry, just thirsty and a little cranky. A few minutes of nursing and rocking would probably be enough. Picking them up, she took a seat in the quiet gliding rocker and opened the front of her night gown. Pulling out her breast, she rubbed the nipple on Hyunjin’s tiny pink lips, coaxing them to latch on. The baby eagerly opened and locked onto her nipple with happy little coos as the cuddled into the warmth and comfort of her body.

“That’s my baby,” she cooed, closing her eyes as she held the happily suckling baby in her arms that rested safely on the nursing pillow in her lap. The sucks of Hyunjins mouth became less frequent and their breaths grew longer until they happily fell asleep still half nursing from mom as she succumbed to sleep herself.

That was how Seonghwa found them when he woke up to an empty bed a little while after. Carefully taking the baby from his wife’s limp arms, he tucked them into their crib before he knelt down to close her nightgown for her. He knew he probably couldn’t get her back to bed without waking her up, but he was going to try anyway. Gently taking away the nursing pillow, he set it in its place beside the crib before carefully working his arm under her armpits and knees, lifting her into his arms so he could carry her down the hall. She stirred in her sleep, cuddling into him and saying his name softly. He shushed her as he tucked her in under the covers, pulling them high up until they were tucked in up to her chin.

Placing a quick kiss on her forehead he quietly made his way out of the room again to sit for a little bit with the other most precious person in his life. Hyunjin was still happily sleeping so Hwa took a seat in the rocker, determined to spend just a little time keeping watch over them as they slept. But as a new, sleep deprived parent himself as well, he soon found himself nodding off as the rocker moved smoothly under him.

“Hyunjin, are you ready to go to school?” Hwa asked, kneeling down to straighten their jacket and fix the couple of buttons they had put in the wrong holes.

“Yes, daddy,” They grinned happily, picking up their big yellow backpack.

“Good,” he grinned, kissing their forehead and looking at them with all the pride and love that was bursting in his heart. He always saw his wife looking at him from behind those little sparkling eyes. “I’m glad you’re letting me walk you on your first day. I know mommy would have been happy to do it too, but I really wanted to take you.”

“I know daddy,” they nodded, taking his hand as they made their way out the front door. “It’s all you have been talking about this week.”

“You are doing this so I stop, aren’t you?” He laughed, his eyes pinching in that same almost pained look as he looked down at them with pure affection.

“No daddy,” Hyunjin shook their head and looked up at him earnestly. “I wanted to walk with you too. Then you can be the last person to give me a hug before my big day when I become a big kid.”

“Oh of course,” He nodded seriously, walking at the pace set by the little person who would always be his baby, no matter how old they got. “My baby is growing up so fast.”

Masterlist

If you got this far, feel free to send me an ask if you have a preference for the next member. If not, if I decide to continue, I might do it in age order.

[justkending]

Noisy Neighbors, Drabble Series. (2/2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it...

Pairing: (college neighbor) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: I had a sweet follower @blessedwedgie​ ask me if I can write a continuation of this drabble I did a while back and at first I was like, “What do I do? Where would I want that to go? How would I continue that in a way that would be cute?” Then I was at work being bored as hell, but had a pen and paper and well... Here we are! I hope I did it justice friend:) This was really fun to write and I want all the cuteness that is College Bucky Barnes in my life honestly!

Here is part one if you haven’t read it yet. 

Noisy Neighbors Part 2:

The only reason you really agreed to coffee with the handsome neighbor was because your morning class had been canceled and you didn’t have another until later that afternoon. Of course there was the free coffee too… Ok, maybe his stupid handsome face had something to do with you leaning to say yes. 

He was persistent.

So at 9:55 the next morning, you threw on a pair of real pants and a jean jacket over your sweater and ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed your keys by the front door. 

“I’ll be back later Wands!” you shouted back down the hallway. No response. She was probably sleeping after pulling an all nighter for a test today. “I’ll be bringing you back some coffee too, I guess,” you laughed to yourself as you went to open the door. 

But you were startled to open it and immediately see those familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Jesus-” you jutted as you threw your hand over your chest in surprise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed as he took in your reaction. “I literally just stepped in front of your door.”

“You sure you haven’t been waiting out here since last night?” you smirked, stepping out and locking it. 

“Now, I did say I was persistent, but I think I deserve a coffee and a little more than small talk before I decide if you’re stalking material,” he shrugged, watching as you turned back to him. 

“I like to think I’m stalking material,” you played along, getting a laugh out of him. “Though, doesn’t mean I’d actually liked to be stalked.”

“Ladies and gentleman, she’s got the jokes,” Bucky announced as you walked side by side to leave the apartment building. 

“Just to be safe, you’re not some charming Teddy Bundy 2.0, are you? Cause if that’s the case, I don’t think this is going to work out,” you joked, sending him a smile before tucking your hands in your coat about to bare the cold outside. 

“So you think I’m charming?” Bucky jeered. 

“Don’t get cocky there, Cavanosa. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll ever answer my door again if you knock,” you pointed at him as he opened the door for you. 

“I’m wounded, Y/N,” he faked hurt, but inside he was just gitty to know your name now and be able to say it. 

“Buy me that coffee, and you’ll have a better chance, soldier.”

_____________

You went to the coffee shop on campus and the little coffee date went surprisingly well. You talked about school, learning Bucky was a forensics major and hoped to go to Quantico at some point. He said he always had a gift and interest in crime scenes and murder mysteries growing up. He liked being able to solve it before the characters on shows did or the narrator gave it away. 

To which you countered with, “So you would be a certified stalker with a badge? Interesting…”

That got a big belly laugh out of him which you couldn’t seem to help but join him after hearing such a sweet sound.

You talked about how you’re going into Psychology, and actually were interested in a similar field of forensics. You had always loved the psychoanalyzing of people and situations. So naturally, you were looking into being a Forensic Psychologist. 

He asked why he hadn’t had any classes with you yet considering it was both your senior years. Then you explained to him how you had just transferred for this last semester because of better professors and a scholarship opportunity you wanted to take advantage of before graduation. 

It turned out that you both were taking one of the same classes, but just had it at different times. Same professor though. 

After the obligated ‘college talk’, you both got into; where you grew up, where you plan to go, what are your hobbies, what do you do in your free time if you weren’t studying. Which you had already known Bucky’s was throwing parties that irked you to no end. 

“Yeah, I’ll cut back on those. I’ve been getting behind in school and it’s starting to affect my grades,” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Dr. Cassel’s class especially. Damn man has a 3 page essay due what feels like every night!”

Dr. Cassel being the professor that you shared.

“Eh, it’s not fun, but if you get ahead a little and do the readings, it’s not that bad,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the hot cup of tea that you told him you preferred instead of coffee on days like this with the weather. 

“Easy to say for a nerd who likes to read,” he smirked taking a drink from his own cup as he looked over the brim of it at you.

“Excuse me sir, I thought you were trying to get on my good side here,” you gasped. “Calling me a nerd isn’t going to do that for you.”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You actually kinda remind me of Steve. He’s a bookworm like you and the goody two shoes who’s always on top of things.”

“He didn’t seem like that at the party the other night,” you tilted your head. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not have finally had convinced him to join in on the fun. He’s always holed up in his room studying or reading something, which I’m sure you understand,” he winked getting an eye roll from you. “But every once and a while I can get him to cross over to the dark side for a night.”

“School’s important for me. It’s taken a lot to get here and I don’t want to mess it up,” you explained. Your face going a little more serious as if there was more behind that fact than you were letting on. Bucky toned his joking down some at change. “Plus, it’s my senior year. One more semester of this and I’m home free. That is until I start job searching and that’s a whole other step,” you shook your head looking down at your drink. 

“Have you ever gone to a party during college?” Bucky asked. “You know, do the whole college experience thing?”

You looked up seeing he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, yeah. I went to one or two with my old boyfriend at the other school I went to. They weren’t more than just a bunch of frat boys and girls getting plastered and making out in random spots around the house, while the rest were listening to loud music and standing elbow to elbow in a crowded rent house off campus.”

“Very specific scenario there,” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “I take it you and your boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” His question did not meet your eye line as he stirred the dash of creamer he had to his drink. 

“No, that would mean he would be my current boyfriend, not old,” you laughed. “That and I probably wouldn’t have said yes to coffee if I was dating someone.”

“Right, because this is a date,” he noted as he looked back at you with that cocky grin. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smirked back. 

“You did say it in the text. You said, ‘sounds like a date,’” he pointed out. 

“But do all coffee dates mean actual dates or just meeting up to talk over coffee?” you countered. 

“Would I get in trouble if I said I’m hoping it’s the first one?” he asked with hopeful eyes. 

You paused for a second. God, he was cute. He was charming. But… You came here for your degree and you broke up with your last boyfriend because your schedule is too hectic and you’re trying to focus strictly on school. You didn’t have time for relationships. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really a part of the dating rehealm at the moment,” you said awkwardly. Bucky’s smile dropping some. “My schedule is just too chaotic to add another person to it, and I really need to focus on school.”

You could see disappointment on his face, but he was quick to wipe it off to not cause any more tense energy in the conversation. 

“I get it. You have your priorities in check. Can’t blame you for that,” he shrugged with a soft smile. “But now that I know you’re my neighbor, and I really like your whole persona. You won’t be mad if we became friends, would you?”

You giggled at that and his smile widened. “I think I can get on board with that.” His grin grew once again. “Besides, I may need to copy your notes for class, so I guess it’d be useful to get along with you,” you exaggerated as if it was so much to do on your end. 

“If anyone’s copying notes here, it’ll be me, doll. I’m the one failing,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink, 

You two continued talking for a while with another cup of coffee was purchased. Strangely enough the annoying neighbor that you had grown to despise, had surprised you in being a pretty nice guy. It was like you two had been friends since high school with how comfortable and snarky you guys were with the other. And it didn’t hurt to look at him either…

Eventually you headed off to your afternoon class and Bucky headed home being lucky enough not to have any classes all day. He offered to walk you to the class, but with it being as cold as it was, you didn’t want to inconvenience him by walking you there and then all the way back to the apartments. It wasn’t a short walk. 

He obliged after much persuasion on your end and you went your separate ways. 

As the weeks went on, you started to see more of your neighbors. Steve sat with you in Child Psychology now knowing you a little better, and Bucky somehow always was in the hallway at the same time as you or was bumping into you at the forensics building occasionally. 

The neighbors had become friends and Wanda was just happy to not hear you complaining anymore about the two that shared your wall. That and the parties had practically ceased now. Considering what Bucky said about being behind in classes, you suspected he was trying to cut back on his social time. 

As the semester went on, Bucky made it a priority to see you at least once a day if he could. Emphasis on the at least…

If that meant knocking on your door to walk to class, he jumped at the opportunity. 

“Hey, I’m headed to the library and I know you have that 12 o’clock class in the building over. Wanna just go together?” He grinned. 

“Can’t say no to a chauffeur,” you would smile back as you grabbed a beanie and walked out with him. 

If it meant somehow almost always making more food than he and Steve could eat, just to come over and offer you some, he would take the option. 

“Hey, I made some pasta tonight and had way too much for Steve and I. I thought I would ask if you and Wanda want some before I throw it out,” he smiled widely in your doorway. “What college student in their right mind would say no to a hot meal?” he winked.

“Not a sane one,” you chuckled as you took the platter. “You sure you don’t want them for leftovers?”

“Eh, we never get around to eating them most the time. You guys will enjoy it more than us. Plus, it’s better fresh,” he waved off. 

“Ok, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to bake you some of my famous brownies as a thank you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N. I will hold you to it.”

If it meant last minute study sessions for a class he forgot, he texted you a long message begging you to help him out. 

“I know you took this class last semester, so you have to know something. And something is more than I know,” he said with a wrinkled nose once he was in your room. 

“What part of the unit are you in?” you sighed from your desk as you put your now finished work to the side for him. 

“Personality disorders common in serial murders.”

“Oh, that’s the fun stuff. Why wouldn't you want to learn about that?” you gasped, going to sit right next to him on your bed. 

But honestly, he wasn’t worried about the chapter. He had actually read it before coming over to surprise you in his knowledge when he acted like he was lost. He just liked when you sat close to him and went on a rant when you came up on something that triggered a murder documentary you watched. That’s how he hooked you into letting him stay longer. 

“Wait, so the movie was about a serial killer who ended up having multiple personality disorder? He didn’t know he was doing the killings?” he asked. 

“How have you not seen it? It’s a classic!” you questioned in surprise. 

“I don’t know… Tell me more about it,” he grinned as you went on. 

Oh, and he had seen it. It was a good movie. 

If it meant he somehow got ‘locked out of his apartment and couldn’t get in until Steve was home’, he made the excuse to sit outside your door until you were home. 

“I left my key inside by accident today. Any chance you’ll let a loner like me hang out with you for a little until blondie gets home?” he batted his eyelashes as he leaned against your door. 

“This is the second time this week, Bucky. And the fourth time since last week. Do I need to sew the damn things to you?” you laughed opening your apartment to him. 

“I’ll pass on that. I would prefer to just hang out with you instead,” he shrugged, closing the door behind him. 

“You sure you left your keys by accident?” you asked with a pointed eyebrow as you took off your jacket. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, doing the motion. 

“Yeah, sure. Wanna put a pot of coffee on while I change?” you asked, already moving to your room. He had been over enough by now from study sessions and ‘accidental lockouts’ to know how to work your machine. 

“Already on it,” he hummed walking to the kitchen. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Dash of cream and-”

“Two sugars! I know,” he shouted back, smiling as he moved in your kitchen to grab the mugs. 

And if it meant never throwing another party again, and instead asking you to come over to his place and watch a movie instead, he moved his schedule around for you. 

“Hey, what do you say to a movie date?” he asked as you walked back from class and nudged you with his elbow. 

“A movie night sounds nice,” you responded, emphasizing on night instead of date. 

“I didn’t say night,” he would point out. 

“I know. I figured I would correct you on your slip up. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Words are hard,” you teased, nudging him back. 

Though he knew you would never fall for his little tricks, he always implemented date into a lot of his questions about you two hanging out. It had become a little game between you both. 

“Study date tonight before Cassel’s test?” He asked as you grabbed your mail together. 

“Study session? Yeah, sure,” you corrected. 

“Hey, want to come over for a dinner date? Steve and I are making homemade pizza. You and Wanda are welcome!” he offered. 

“I’d love to have a pizza party with you guys. I’ll text Wanda and see what her plans are,” you giggled, hip bumping him walking up the stairs. 

“Hey, what do you say to an impromptu date to the baseball game tonight? We’re playing against our school's top rival,” He smiled as you both grabbed your coffee from the barista. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that was tonight. Eh, how do you feel about a movie night instead?” you shrugged. 

“Movie date?” he seconded. 

“Yeah, a movie night,” you emphasized. 

Conversations like that went on all semester. You were finding that whatever time you weren’t spending in class or at work, it was next to Bucky. The two of you becoming a couple of best friends attached to the hip. 

It was nice. You enjoyed it. And though, you knew deep down that he probably meant all those things being a date and hoped for it, you were glad he didn’t press on when you changed the meaning. He understood where you stood and he wasn’t going to pressure you for anything different if you didn’t want to. 

And now, it was time for graduation. You, Steve, Wanda, Wanda’s boyfriend Vis, and Bucky all stood in your gowns taking pictures with your temporary degree in hand outside the college stadium. You had all finally finished. With a lot of all nighters, stress relief movie nights, and much needed pizza parties, you had graduated. 

You didn’t plan on getting two new really good friends out of it as your mind had always been school, school, school. No time for a social life and distractions. 

But boy were you glad you had hit a breaking point the night you banged on their door. If you hadn’t, you would have probably never created the very close relationship with the blue eyed, brown hair, crazy flirtatious, but charming neighbor. 

“Hey, since we graduated and we finished the damn thing, how do you feel about a date?” Bucky asked turning to you after Wanda snapped a picture of you both.

“I didn’t hear movie, study, or pizza in front of that word. What kinda date are we talking about?” you asked as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist from the pose you two were in. 

“I was thinking of a real date,” he smiled. 

His hand on your hip giving a gently, but firm squeeze as his eye practically suffocated you with the ocean tides in them. 

“I think I can get behind that,” you grinned up at him, squeezing his shoulder. “A real date it is, Casanova.”

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4 @chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk - one.

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, eventual fluff?

↳ word count: 4.7K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of attempted murder.

one | two

a/n: this was supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to make it a two shot because inspiration struck at the twelfth hour. This is based on stigma tae, and has massive massive references to hyyh tae as well!! I'm warning you all. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt: chalk drawings. Beta read by @vaekth and @kookiestarlight who are possibly the most supportive and appreciative people I could have asked for, thank you so much!!

You'd thought that being an officer would mean solving cases for people who genuinely needed help. Not hunting around for a missing pumpkin. 

"It's round, large, and I think it was slightly squishy, Y/N," the kid who had run up to you exclaimed again, while making gestures for round, large and squishy. 

If the kid weren't this adorable, you'd squish him for being too loud at 8 in the morning. 

You unlocked the door to your office, taking in the sight of the homey little cubicle that you maintained alone. Being the sole officer in a neighbourhood should be hard work, but in a neighbourhood where practically everybody is asleep? Not as much. 

You sighed as you pulled the kid in - who by now had told you that his name was Sungwoo, and he was eight years old. His mother told him that if he ever lost anything precious he should head to the police, so here he was. 

"Can you find my pumpkin?" He peered up at you as you tried to get the coffee machine started- well, as well as you can with a kid in the way. "It's round, large and squishy." 

"Round, large, squishy. Got it." You smiled wearily at him, seeing how his eyes lit up at the sight of your notebook- the one he obviously thought you wrote your cases in. You took your espresso in a mug, running over to him before he damaged it. He ran over to it, picking it up, dropping it because of its weight and picking it up again. 

"Can you write a message for Peter here?" He asked you, eyes wide and round as he stared at the brown leather bound book. 

"Peter? I thought we were talking about your pumpkin?" 

He nodded vigorously- strong enough to make you worry if his head would fall over. Flopping his hair to the side messily, he scampered to you as you settled in your chair, opening the last page of your book - where you had kept your post-its. "Peter is pumpkin! It's made of something- mom told me-" he put a hand to his head, trying to force his small head to think of big words, "Is it pushy?" 

"Do you mean it is a plushie, Sungwoo?" You said, sighing and writing it down on a post-it note and sticking it on your desk. 

"Yeah!" His eyes sparkled, and he bent his head down to the paper you gave him to scribble a hasty note for Peter. Once satisfied, he raised his head, giving the chit two pats before turning to you. "It's missing, Y/N. Can you find it?"

"Of course I can," you reassured him the best you could while half-asleep. The boy suddenly pulled you into a hug, happy tears spilling out of his eyes as he murmured thank you's over and over. 

You held him for a few more seconds, understanding the worry that the kid would have over his plushie. You didn't understand why he had to bring it to you, though. 

You felt a soft yet insistent buzz in your pant pockets all of a sudden, realizing it was your phone. You pulled yourself away from the crying child, and caressed his head while picking up the call. 

"Good morning, Officer L/N." The coarse voice of your chief barked at you. 

You sighed, not wanting to deal with any of his tantrums right after you dealt with the case of Peter the Pumpkin. "Good morning, Chief." 

"I'm arriving at your office in about ten minutes. We have to discuss something important." 

You sighed again, hand grabbing Sungwoo's as you led him outside the office. Time to clean up. "Of course, Sir."

"Why is this place so messy?" was the first thing you had to hear in the form of a greeting. When your chief said ten minutes, he clearly meant half an hour.

You'd spent some time clearing up cookie crumbs from your table, dusting any evidence of your multiple ramen packets, arranging the tables in proper order, lining the chairs up, and stuffing all the stuff you couldn't clear into a closet. It seemed clean enough to you.

"I shall clean it, Sir." You bowed your head once, carefully maintaining your expression so that the chief doesn't think of you as any more insolent than he already does. 

"It doesn't reflect well upon the force to have a messy office, Y/N. I'm sure you were taught that," he said, pressing his finger to a certain spot on a table, and raising it up to show you. "Dust in our offices speaks of nonchalance. That is the last thing we'd want anyone to think of us is that we're nonchalant."

"I apologise, sir. I shall rectify it." 

"I expect you to. Anyways," he said, dusting his hands and moving to another corner of the office, "that is not what I came here for." He settled into the chair-  your chair, with the note for Peter the Pumpkin intact.

You prayed for him to ignore it. 

"There's been growing signs of vandalism in the neighbourhood you're patrolling, Y/N," The chief said to you in a gruff tone, looking like an angry cat with his whiskers trembling. He wore a scowl to match the whole look. Luckily, his pondering eyes missed out on the missing pumpkin report. "I want you to catch that person. Why isn't it done yet?"

"They were untraceable, Sir. All we could capture was a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Nothing else. There's only graffiti and chalk all over the places he's been at, Sir. I tried looking for clues-" 

"Keep looking, then."

"I'm trying, sir. I have asked the owners of all the shops on the street to hand over any CCTV footage they have of the person so that I can analyze it and try to nab him. It is a futile task till now, though." 

The chief rubbed his hand hard on his thigh, the sound of his palm scratching against the coarse trouser fabric reaching you. "They are being a menace, Y/N. A nuisance to those who want peace in this neighbourhood. You are supposed to bring that peace for them, not complain about not being able to get that person. That is your job." He looked you directly in the eye, anger clearly visible. "Or would you wish to leave?"

You twitched in anger, forcing yourself to remain calm. The chief had a penchant for transferring those who were unsuccessful in their cases to different stations- the more transfers, the more incompetent you seemed. You had already begun at a relatively low level, and you couldn't afford going lower. You nodded stiffly. 

"Any more complaints, and I'd be forced to transfer you somewhere else and hand this case over to someone competent. And you know it wouldn't be safe for your career, Y/N." He rose up from the chair, heading towards the door. "I want it resolved. Soon." 

You bowed your head, in a sense of respect for your senior you'd actually never felt. It was annoying, honestly, and your hatred for this man just grew more and more. You had requested since the day of your graduation from the academy to be put in the forensics department - something that actually was your specialty. But no, here you were, patrolling a neighbourhood where the only problem was a kid scribbling on walls and leaving an alphabet behind. 

V.

Taehyung kicked a pebble aside, letting it roll aimlessly along the half-paved, half-broken road. "I'm out of green paint, again." 

He glanced at the aluminium shutters he had decided to vandalize- no, beautify- today, deciding that the subtle decor of the florist's shop and the grim outside of the tattoo shop - both needed redecorations. He didn't care who was the owner. He didn't care how many reports they filed about the eerie similarities of the vandal to Mrs. Kim's son - they never cared about him before, so they'd never care about him now. That, he was sure of. 

His red paint had been used to make the outer petals of a rose that he had dedicatedly been drawing the previous day, until the owner had yelled from his house above for him to stop. That was early, though. 11 AM was a predictable time for a vandal to walk through the streets, spraying graffiti and dusting chalk over every nook and corner until he was satisfied by the art he had created. 

His wristwatch ticked three as he picked up his blue paint can. Just a few hours later, but effective enough for the owner to have fallen asleep - Taehyung could definitely justify that by the snores that echoed behind the shutters. 

"Reporting. Reporting. Vandal. Street 13. I repeat. Vandal. Street 13." 

The cuckoo clock that your mom had gifted you to decorate the less than neat office struck three just when the report came through. Just when you were about to settle for the night.

You pushed your papers aside, leaving the missing car complaint on your table. Holding your baton, slipping your ID into the pocket of your jeans and dusting crumbs off your chiffon blouse, you picked up the radio. 

"Street 13. Officer Y/N reporting." 

The gruff voice of your chief growled back at you. "The vandal has been found on camera, finally. The florist's CCTV; he sent a complaint. In fact, he's been wandering the streets for half an hour now, Y/N. Where have you been?" 

You were about to form a legible enough response, say that the paperwork he had set for you was what consumed your time, but he beat you to it. Sighing into the phone, he said, "Nevermind that. Get to his location immediately, and capture him." His voice stumbled for a second. "Take the taser, just in case." 

"Yes sir," you responded meekly, and disconnected the radio. 

You looked around for your keys, going past a board full of cases that were never relevant enough to be solved - especially the one of the missing pumpkin. The types of cases you received here made you shudder, this wasn't why you had spent so much time training at the university. You tucked your radio into your jacket as you pushed it on your shoulders, grabbing onto a half-eaten sandwich to satisfy your hunger along the way.

"I have to get that person before he robs me of a chance at the forensics department forever," you thought while speeding towards the location told to you - while maintaining the speed limit, of course. No space for nonchalance. 

You'd wanted to finish all your paperwork today and get back to an analysis you were working on - preferably get a nap too. Capturing a neighbourhood graffiti artist- this isn't what you had wanted to do.

This wasn't what Taehyung had wanted to do. 

The paint dried off slowly on the metal surface, a small drop of ink trickling down where Taehyung had stopped. The design wasn't matching what he had thought at all, he thought as he stared at it. Time to switch it up. 

He picked up the painting from right where he had stopped it - merging blue into the red petals as he was on his way to the centre of the flower. Painstakingly, he traced lines that would capture the delicate curves of the outlines, serving to further merge into the picture. 

His vandalism wasn't ugly drawings, nudity, or someone just spraying 'SUCKAZ!' all over a wall. That is for amateurs. His was nuanced art. Art that he couldn't do in the day. The ones he could never showcase in the galleries. The ones he buried in the deepest recesses of his mind, burning a hole into the boxes he stuffed them into. This was his freedom. 

Taehyung picked up the black can. Fixing the nozzle in the proper direction, he shook the bottle- once, twice. The paint came out in spurts at first, before settling into a steady spray. Black always enhances everything, doesn't it? Enhancement that never seemed beautiful - it was just there to make it stand out. Be noticed. Be shamed. Be suspected. Look deadly, or even look dead. Even the most innocent faces look devious with black. What's to say his flower would still look alive? 

The black slowly spiralled across the expanse of the shutter, coiling over and over in what Taehyung thought could be the leaves. The thorns that held the flower back from reaching the epitome of beauty- at least, outwardly beauty. He detested how overhyped a rose was- just as destructible as all other flowers. Where's the beauty in something temporary? 

The green paint can had been used up last time when he had sprayed ivy all over the fashion boutique's doors- all of which had been washed away. A shame, Taehyung thought, and picked up his airbrush. Filling a little green into the small holder, he tested it a few times on the footpath - he'd scrub chalk all over it later on, he still needed to add more to beautify the shops. He carefully painted leaves all over the black he had sprayed, letting them flatten out against the metal at the back and form a protective layer around the rose. Unnecessary by all means. 

He then switched to a darker green, picking up the airbrush once again to add some subtlety in the leaves. He watched the spray slowly settle right where he wanted it - paint, unlike his life, was something he had full control of. It was liberating. 

Standing back and twirling the can over and over in his hand, Taehyung was somewhat satisfied with what he made. A rose. Simple, overrated. Just like flowers. The leaves stood out more to him, along with the thorns; their prickly points being the focus of the picture. Perfect. 

He picked up his personal favorite - a small can of black paint who's nozzle had been crafted by him. Stooping down to the corner of the shutter, he slowly sprayed across it. Black settling on silver gray, one single alphabet. V. 

That's it. He was done. Just an hour's work. 

He turned to the tattoo artist's shop, the shutter a colourful mess littered with messy black stains and drawings the owner probably thought was hip. Taehyung cringed. How was it possible for an artist to be that bad at decorating their own shop? He walked a few steps back, admiring the size of it and thinking of what he could fill there. Something that would really annoy a tattoo artist- he deserved it after having ruined the shutter like that. Picking up a blade, Taehyung set to scrape away the skulls- which, he found, were stickers. Gross. Peeling them off, he set to chip away at the paint- the soft thunk, thunk of the blade slapping against the metal echoed around him. Hopefully, not too loud. 

The metal loudly protested as Taehyung pressed his blade against what seemed to be an outline of a body, done with black, and some random inscriptions that he could notice were wearing away. This had to be really old. 

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The blade kept pushing at the layers of colour, forcing them off the metal. He could see glints of silver shining underneath it, dim under the streetlight.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He kept pushing at the paint, tongue poking out as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had to do it now. There was no other time for him to do this. Now. Now. Now. 

The silver suddenly glinted more brightly- a shade impossible under the dull, flickering yellow of the streetlights. White lights created a halo of sorts around him, and Taehyung knew his time was up. He smiled. At least one place got the beauty they deserved. 

"Hands up!" A voice yelled behind him, and he could hear a click that definitely sounded like a taser gun. 

Looking up, he cursed loudly at everyone and anyone. He could have finished it tonight. His work would have been done, and he would have been on his way. He turned around, annoyance sparking in his eyes with sarcastic acceptance lining his lips in the way they curled. "You found me," he murmured, before letting himself get slammed against the very shutters he was painting.

Fate played wonderful games, and for now, you were its newest loser. 

"Name." You spoke, your voice monotone yet clear. 

"You know me, Y/N. Don't pretend you don't." Taehyung crooned, smirking while he rotated the glass that rested atop the table. 

Your annoyance only grew. When you were told that there was a vandal in the streets, you didn't expect it to be a familiar face. 

Kim Taehyung was known to you. Someone who had lived right next door. Someone who had been known as a lovable, obedient boy by the neighbours- you still remembered how your mother would gush about him. Someone you knew, and once, cared for. 

Someone who was later only known as the kid who flung a bottle on his stepfather's face and was sentenced for five years - which, in fact, was a misjudgement. He was innocent, and the video of him attacking the man was manipulated. Fake. Edited. Whatever you chose wouldn't be enough to change anything in the past. 

Taehyung had come out of jail a changed man, weeping openly in the streets when he heard of his family's fate- what he had heard, though, was something you were unaware of. Two years had since passed, and you no longer heard your mother talking about the Kim's boy. He had simply vanished, for you. No traces anywhere. 

But here he was. Kim Taehyung. Alive, breathing. Smirking. And spinning a glass over and over. 

"Give that to me." You said, snatching the glass away from him and keeping it aside. Settling into your chair, you pulled your laptop closer once again, mustering the most serious look you can. "I'm not playing around, Taehyung. Talk properly. Behave. You're already in a rough spot." 

Taehyung laughed; a mirthless, almost painful laughter. "I can't see how anything can be bad here, officer. With all due respect, of course." He straightened up, still keeping that smirk on his face.

You exhaled your breath slowly, holding back all the words you wanted to hurl at him. "Name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

You typed it in, feeling the way each letter pad was pushed down before you moved over it- momentary, but fulfilling. "Age."

"As of today, 25." 

"Job."

"Nothing. Add the official vandal of Street 13 if you want." 

You raised an eyebrow, fingers abruptly coming to a stop. "Behave." 

"No job, officer." Taehyung said, settling further ahead in his seat and pausing, before speaking again. "Why do you need this though? I already have a criminal record, don't I?" 

You turned your face to him, the sudden change in light exposure hurting your eyes. The hurt they felt couldn't possibly fathom the depths of pain you saw churning in Taehyung's eyes, like pits of fire. They were seemingly blank,  but you had known him. Known him long enough to know that this wasn't who he used to be. This wasn't him. 

"Once you were proven innocent, your record was wiped clean. The manipulators were given the charges that you had." You looked at him while saying this, trying to notice any emotions that would make way to his face. None. No twitching lips, no annoyance in his eyebrows. Just his eyes that seethed anger. "Family?" 

"None." 

You raised an eyebrow. "None?"

Taehyung groaned, getting up from the chair and turning around, hands on his waist. "Don't make me repeat all that shit again. You know it, Y/N." 

"Sit back down, Taehyung." You said, irritated by his tantrums. It was four in the morning, for God's sake. You didn't have the energy to deal with him. "I need details if you want to get out of this without any charges." 

"Dead. Most of them. Those who aren't, disowned me as soon as I got into jail. Something about not wanting to be related to a criminal." He said lowly, a gruff tone to his voice as he spoke the last words. 

You hummed lowly, not knowing what to say. How do you possibly respond to something like this? You weren't trained for interrogation at university. You specialized in forensics. This wasn't supposed to be your job. 

"I'm sorry that happened, Taehyung." You managed after a few moments of silence. 

"Don't be." He shrugged, then looked up. "You don't mean it." 

"I still need a reason as to why you are destroying the places around here with your graffiti and chalk drawings, Taehyung." You ignored him and continued, rising from your chair to let your sore limbs relax. "Unfortunately, I can't let you leave till you give me a reason." 

Taehyung stayed mum, much to your annoyance. 

You slammed your hand on the table, a loud slap that stung your hand, but also Taehyung's ears, it seemed. "Reasons. Now."

"I just wanted to." 

"Wanted to? So you were voluntarily damaging someone else's property?" 

He raised his head to look at you; once, twice. Then with a resigned sigh, he responded. "Yeah. But I was beautifying it." 

"A beautification they never asked for?" You said, as Taehyung groaned behind you. 

"No one gives a damn, Y/N-" 

"The police do." You say, preparing to send a message to your chief over the radio. "Got him." 

"The police didn't care when I was innocent in that case, Y/N. Stop pretending like they'll care for me when I'm actually guilty of something." 

"That case was mishandled."

"Yeah, Y/N. It was mishandled. But only for you." You turned to him, shocked at the venom that suddenly laced his voice. 

In the few seconds that you had turned away from him, his eyes had turned bloodshot. Red rimmed the remaining white of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what it is to be locked up for harming people you loved, Y/N. You wouldn't understand that pain," he murmured, loud enough for you to hear him in the echoes of the office. 

You wanted to scream at him. Tell him how he had hurt you. Remind him of all the things you had forced yourself to forget over seven years. The way your heart still hurt for him. 

"You're right. I won't understand. So sit here, and explain yourself." You pulled your chair back, seating yourself in it and gazing up at him expectantly. 

He was just staring at you- you couldn't say whether his gaze held expectations or disdain. Then, shaking his head, "You're still just as stubborn, aren't you," he said, softly smiling as he slipped into his chair. "Adamant, and so, so confusing."

"You don't know me anymore, Taehyung. Don't pretend. Anyways," you said, turning to your laptop again. "I need-"

"No." He stood up once again- why was he standing? "Answer me, now." 

He rested his arms on the table, chest leaning forward to balance himself- and now, you could see the changes he had brought in himself. In place of lean muscle there were defined biceps you could see being flexed. In place of short hair was curly locks that fell until his crown, now hanging over. In place of a cheeky grin that sent your blood rushing to your cheeks was a pair of lips, set tight in one line that sent chills down your spine. There was warmth to him, yes, but it was different. This wasn't the Taehyung you knew. 

"You knew that I was back." Your eyes moved back to look into his. And you noticed more changes. Instead of a carefree twinkle, there was dark, brooding black filling his pupils. "You knew. I'd seen you that night." 

The night when you had seen him falling to his knees, soaking himself in the rain as he gave his tears as a tribute to the gushing skies. The night he returned. The night you thought he didn't know you. 

"I'd seen you after that as well. That day at the convenience store, I'd seen you buying candies. You still buy the same kind, don't you? Lemon flavoured." 

The night you gave up on your dreams to become an analyst in the forensic lab for the police. The night where you stared up to question everything you did as your feet soaked in the snow. Two years ago. The night he thought he knew you. 

"You're hurting me by not remembering us, Y/N." 

"We were nothing to begin with." You cleared your throat, settling further back into your chair. "You asked me on a date, and stood me up. We're nothing. Absolutely nothing." 

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak again, but leaned back, standing tall, straight. You almost missed his warmth - no. This wasn't the warmth of a person you had cared for. 

"It's so cold outside, Y/N, why haven't you turned on the heater?" Your chief's voice filled the room after a few minutes of absolute silence. Taehyung had taken to leaning on the wall, now, maintaining an anxious distance. "Did you get the man?"

You simply pointed towards Taehyung, watching the chief's face flash with recognition, brows hastily furrowing as a frown formed on his face.

"Kim Taehyung?" Your chief asked, coming up to the two of you. "Is it really you? Are you the vandal?"

Taehyung remained silent, head hung. 

The chief inhaled, then exhaled; loud enough for you to hear him - "It is you, isn't it. What happened after the attempted murder case?" 

"Proven false, Sir." You informed your superior. For some odd reason, you felt like you had to come to Taehyung's defense. 

"I am aware of that, Y/N." The chief said, looking Taehyung up and down. As reported, he was in the navy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans- and you could see in the clear light of your office that he had ripped the holes into them himself. Something he did before to look fashionable, he used to say. 

"I don't really want to put any charges on you, Taehyung. Why did you do it?"

Taehyung spoke, voice gravelly. "It was liberating, Sir." 

"You broke the law, though." 

"The law broke me, Sir." 

The chief took another deep breath and settled onto the chair where Taehyung was sitting just a few moments ago. His wrinkled skin seemed to age even more. Taehyung was close with the chief as a student, that you knew- you had seen him going multiple times to his office to get clarifications after class. You wondered how the chief felt - did he feel the same sting of recognition you had felt? 

"I don't want you to get any charges, Taehyung," he said, before laughing and adding, "all these years, and I still have my student in my head." 

He stood up and turned to face Taehyung again, worry reflecting in his eyes as he held him by the shoulders. "You're still the Taehyung I know, right?" 

Taehyung looked away, down, his face coming in your line of vision - you could see the small rivulets that flowed from the pool of emotions in his eye, down the lines that worry, anger and disbelief had formed on his face. Sniffing softly, he turned back to the chief. "Yes, Sir." 

The chief visibly relaxed, his arms coming down to his sleeves, gripping Taehyung. "Good. I hope it remains that way." 

He returned to his stern stance, and faced you. "I suggest you keep him here for the night, Y/N." he looked outside, the sky just turning sapphire. "I shall return in the morning to talk. Get some rest while you're at it. And Taehyung? Eat something." 

The chief swiftly departed the office, and Taehyung slumped into the chair. "Seven years, and the old man still remembers me," he laughed mirthlessly, lips twisting in an amused smile. "Always appreciated him." 

"And so did he," you mentioned. Taehyung was always brought up as a comparison for your batch of officers to emulate. Even when he was in jail, he was remembered among you as a diligent student and worker. "'Remember his good', he used to say. He always remembered you."

"And you?" He suddenly looked at you. His eyes were no longer bloodshot - there were small remnants of anger, but all you could see was wistfulness. "Did you remember me, Y/N?" 

a/n: yup, I stopped there. Do leave some feedback if you liked it- in the comments, or as an ask! Also, if you wish to be tagged for the next part, you can ask for that too! Thank you for giving your time to this fic,, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! love, hazel💞

masterlist

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (3)

(Hey guys! finally got around to posting chapter three of this! There’s a second, mini series connected to this that’s called Journal Entries. You don’t have to read it to understand the plot, but I felt like it would be fun to write so enjoy it if you like!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 4

Chapter 3: There’s a First Time for Everything

Adrien tapped his pencil against his notebook paper and nestled his cheek into his open palm with a sigh. It’s been a little over a week since Marinette exchanged schools, and he’s yet to talk with her about it. He tried visiting her the day Ms. Bustier informed them of the transfer, but Marinette wasn’t home. Naturally, he tried again the next day and actually managed to catch her, but then she ran off. Ran off! Adrien still couldn’t believe it. Why would she run from him? 

“Dude, you okay?” Nino asked, giving him a light nudge.

Adrien straightened slightly. “Ah, yeah, just.. Just thinking.”

Alya scoffed behind him. “Don’t tell me you’re still moping about Marinette.” 

Needless to say, the class didn’t exactly share Adrien’s sentiment about Marinette’s leaving. With all of Lila’s stories circling around, they were overjoyed that the “bully” was gone. Alya was low-key furious, ranting about “injustices” and “letting Marinette run from the consequences of her actions”, but other than that, everyone was pleased with the outcome.

Everyone except Adrien.

Adrien knew better. The class may think that they’re better off without the bluenette, but he knew for certain that they were all going to drown without her. Marinette organized the budgets, supplied the goods for bake sales, signed off all of the paperwork for their trips- she even made dresses for the girls on special occasions. They needed her. That’s why he had to get her back. If only he could find time out of his packed schedule to visit her again..

“Alright, everyone, settle down.” Ms. Bustier spoke up. “The results for the new class president are in.”

Adrien sunk further into his seat. Ah, yes. The new class president, another reason Marinette should have stayed. With her gone, they had to make an impromptu election. Chloe, of course, ran again, but Lila decided to run as well. With the class’ obvious loyalty towards Lila, it’s a wonder Ms. Bustier didn’t announce the brunette as the president right there and save everyone the trouble.

Ms. Bustier pulled out a small card with the results and cleared her throat. “With a near-unanimous vote, the new class president will be Lila Rossi.”

The class cheered, and Lila gasped as if she hadn’t expected this to happen.

“Thank you all so much!” She beamed.

Alya slung her arm around Lila’s shoulders. “You deserve it, girl.”

Chloe scoffed from her seat and crossed her arms, but no one acknowledged the show of disdain. They were too busy congratulating their beloved Lila.

“Congratulations Lila. You can visit Marinette after school to get the paperwork from her.” Ms. Bustier said, setting her cards aside.

Adrien straightened. Someone had to go visit Marinette? “I’ll do it!”

The classroom paused at the outburst.

“Oh, Adrien you don’t have to do that for me.” Lila remarked with a grateful tone.

“Oh, no, it’s my pleasure.” Adrien was quick to reply.

A hint of annoyance flicked across Lila’s features, but it quickly vanished when Alya said, “Yeah, Lila, you shouldn’t have to suffer through that.”

A smile forced its way onto the Italian girl’s lips. “Thanks, but I think it’s only right that I meet with her in person. Class president to Class president and all.”

Alya frowned. “Well, at least let me go with you. I don’t want her trying to pull anything.”

“Oh, Alya,” Lila sighed, patting the red-head’s hand, “It’s just a small visit. I’m sure Marinette and I can be civil about this.”

Alya reluctantly agreed, but if anyone had actually been paying attention, they might have seen Lila’s smirk.

~~~~~~

The soft rhythm of Felix and Allegra’s instruments floated around the music room as they played. Marinette never imagined the violin and the flute sounding well together, but the way Felix and Allegra harmonized had her swaying back and forth with the melody. It was a lovely song, and she couldn’t help closing her eyes to fully relish the masterpiece. 

Her eyes snapped open a second later, though, as her entire body jolted from the large calamity of piano keys that was suddenly pounded on by Claude. Felix startled as well, his violin flying off key, and Allegra nearly dropped her flute. 

“Again, Claude?” Allegra sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

Claude leaned back on the piano stool with his palms and flashed them an innocent smile. “What? I was only helping.”

Marinette held back a smile, but Felix wasn’t amused.

“I told you to stop doing that.” He scolded with a scowl. “You’re going to get our music room privileges revoked!”

“Good. You guys practice too much, anyway.” 

Allegra gave Claude a flat look. “We need to practice if we’re going to get better.”

“But you already sound great.” 

“Because we practice.” Felix replied pointedly.

Marinette subtly nodded in agreement. She didn’t want to get directly involved in their arguments, as that never seemed to go well.

Claude huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Waste your time on endless practice. I’m gonna do something more productive with my time.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”

Claude turned to lay across the piano bench while throwing Marinette a smile. “Like making croissants! We’re still coming to your house, right?”

Marinette returned his smile, secretly relieved that he didn’t ask her to do something outrageous like going to chase pigeons around the park while on roller blades. (Yes, that’s happened several times in the past week, and yes, each time she’s said no.) 

“Yeah, but you guys are coming over tomorrow.” She told him. 

He pumped a fist into the air. “Yes! I can’t wait!!”

“Neither can I.” Allegra admitted. “Your parents sound splendid.”

Marinette’s smile widened. “I’m sure you’ll all get along great.”

“Yes, I’m sure.. If we can practice enough to go straight to your house after classes tomorrow.” Felix remarked, shooting Claude another look.

Claude tisked, waving a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. Get back to your music already.”

Allegra gave a short laugh, sarcastically stating, “Oh, thank you so much. I was wondering when you would give us permission to play.”

“I know, I’m such a generous person.” Claude joked back.

Allegra playfully rolled her eyes and held up her flute to resume playing. Felix followed along, and Marinette went back to swaying as their song continued. 

-

The familiar ring of the customer bell brought a smile to Marinette’s lips as she opened the bakery door. 

Her mother, Sabine, looked up from the cashier desk with a warm smile. “Marinette! How was music practice?”

“It was wonderful, Maman. Felix and Allegra play beautifully.” Marinette answered as she walked inside. She set her bag next to the counter and gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. “Is everything ready for them to come over tomorrow?”

Sabine nodded. “Tom’s got the ingredients and tables ready for when they get here. He’s so excited to meet them, and so am I.”

Marinette chuckled. “They’re excited to meet you guys too.”

Sabine’s smile widened at the comment, but then her expression darkened as she said, “Hopefully they’re not two-faced and backstabbing like your previous classmates.”

Marinette gasped. “Mom!” 

“Well, it’s true!” Sabine replied defensively.

It was true, but that didn’t mean Marinette was any less surprised to hear her maman talk that way. Of course, Sabine did tend to speak her mind when Marinette’s feelings were involved. 

Before she could respond, the doorbell rang again, signaling a new customer’s arrival. Marinette turned with her mother to offer them a greeting, but stopped short when she saw exactly who the new customer was.

Lila Rossi stood in the doorway, a smug smirk on her lips as she eyed Marinette up and down. “I see you’re doing well.”

Sabine was in front of Marinette in the blink of an eye. “You are not welcome in this bakery. Leave immediately before I call the cops.”

A look of feigned hurt crossed the Italian girl’s expression. “How rude! I only came here per Mme Bustier’s request. I have to get the formal papers from our previous class president.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes, stepping around Sabine with crossed arms. “I suppose you’re the new class president then?”

Lila’s smile returned, sharp and triumphant. “By a near-unanimous vote. Alya is still the deputy though, since she practically begged me to let her help.”

Marinette’s lips tightened into a thin line. That sounded about right. “How nice for you. You two really do deserve each other.”

When Lila first came around, Marinette had been torn and heartbroken about her friends abandoning her for a stranger. It didn’t help that Adrien kept assuring her that everything would be fine, that they didn’t mean what they said. He gave her false hope, and it made it all the harder to find the courage to leave. 

Now, she’s realized how toxic her old environment had become, and though it still hurt her to think about it, Marinette knew she couldn’t let them affect her anymore.

Lila faltered at Marinette’s uncaring tone. “Uh.. right. Where are those papers again?”

“Up in my room.” Marinette moved towards the stairs, bringing Sabine back behind the counter as she did. “I’ll go get them now.”

“Good.” Lila said, sounding satisfied. “I’ll be waiting outside, but don’t take your time. I’m supposed to go meet Alya and the girls for a girl’s night out.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes at the obvious jab, but continued up the stairs anyway. The sooner she got the papers, the sooner that lying leech could leave.

She swiftly ran up to her room and gathered the papers to stuff them into the large, blue binder she’d been given only two semesters ago. It sunk into her arms as she picked it up, and the sheer weight of the packed binder made her smile as she brought it back outside, especially when she saw Lila’s panicked expression.

“Um.. What is that?” The brunette asked, pointed at the binder.

“Oh, this?” Marinette replied innocently. “This is just the binder that holds all the formal papers you need. Being class president takes a lot of work you know.”

Lila nearly toppled over when Marinette dropped the binder into her arms. 

“That’s allergies, budgets, complaints, schedules, and trips!” Marinette told her with a grin. “But don’t forget to give Mme Bustier and Principle Damocles the proper reports each semester.”

Lila shot her a scowl, but quickly recovered, slipping on a smile of her own. “No need to be petty, Marinette. It’s fine to admit you’re breaking inside. Losing all your friends can be a hard thing to go through.”

Marinette’s grin faded slightly, knowing that Lila was right. She’d lost everything. All of her childhood friends, her crush, her fun teachers, anything she used to hold dear.

But maybe that was a good thing.

“Have fun sorting through the binder.” She said, spinning on her heel and walking inside. She had better things to do than listen to someone who had to lie just to get people to like them. 

The bakery door closed behind her, and Marinette saw Lila leave out of the corner of her eye, taking the painful memories with her.

~~~~~~

Friday afternoon. 4:45pm.

Felix stared at the bakery door, unsure how to proceed. The group had originally agreed to walk straight to Marinette’s house after school, but they changed the plan last minute to come back at five, an hour after school ended. It gave Marinette’s parents time to finish up the preparations, and the rest of the group time to drop off their school bags at their homes. 

Felix, as usual, arrived at the Dupain-Cheng’s early, but now he was doubting his actions. On one hand, he would get to meet the Dupain-Cheng’s without the chaos that the trio tended to bring. It would be a nice way for him to get a quick impression of the family over-all. 

On the other hand, he’s at Marinette’s house before the time she specifically told them to come, which could be considered rude in some cases. Should he go inside or wait in a nearby cafe?

After a few more minutes of debating, Felix stepped forward and knocked on the door. If they really needed him to wait until five, he would apologize and come back in ten minutes. The opportunity to meet the Dupain-Cheng’s on a one-on-one basis was too good to pass up.

It only took a moment for the door to open, and a short, asain woman greeted him with a sweet smile. “Hello! I’m assuming you’re one of Marinette’s friends from school?” 

Felix nodded, noting her raven hair that matched Marinette’s perfectly. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Felix.”

He stiffened slightly when she reached forward to take his hand in both of hers. “It’s great to finally meet you! Marinette has told us so much about you all.” 

A small smile passed his lips. For some reason, that knowledge gave him a satisfied feeling. Assuming that the talk was good, that is. “She’s talked a lot about you as well. I’m assuming you’re Mme Dupain-Cheng?”

The woman waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please, call me Sabine.”

‘Sabine’ showed him inside, where baked goods lined the walls in glass cases. Claude was going to lose his mind when he got here. The overwhelming scent of vanilla and cinnamon alone was going to be enough to make the brunette’s mouth water.

“This is my husband, Tom.” Sabine introduced, gesturing to a tall, burly man at the cashier desk. “Tom, this is one of Marinette’s friends, Felix.”

Felix would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by the man. His head almost grazed the ceiling as he approached them, making Sabine look like a dwarf in comparison. Felix felt like a dwarf in comparison.

Tom offered a wide, hearty grin, though that didn’t help Felix’s unease. “Ah, Felix! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”

The man scooped Felix up into a bear hug, squeezing him tightly to his chest. Felix would have replied to his greeting had he been able to breathe. 

“Oh, Papa!”

Felix glanced over Tom’s shoulder- he’d been raised that high -and saw Marinette standing in another doorway behind the cashier counter, a slight cringe in her expression.

“Papa, put poor Felix down before he passes out from lack of oxygen!” She insisted, walking forward to tug on her father’s arm.

“Oh that’s.. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Felix wheezed as Tom set him down. 

Marinette’s hands hovered around him for a moment, then she nervously clasped them together. “I-I’m so sorry, I should have warned you. I thought I was going to be down here when you guys arrived.”

Felix shook his head and bent over slightly to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. They actually remind me of my own mother. She’s a rather adamant hugger herself.”

A relieved smile came to Marinette’s lips. “Really? I didn’t think anyone could be as ‘homely’ as my parents.”

Felix chuckled, but the customer bell jingled again before he could reply. Claude sauntered inside a second later, his arms spread as wide as his grin. 

“We’re here~!” The brunette sang, looking around the shop. His gaze found Felix’s flat one almost immediately.

“Hey!” Claude gasped, pointing accusingly at Felix. “He beat us here!”

Allegra stepped out from behind Claude, wearing a curious expression. That quickly changed to knowing smirk, though, as she shot him a playfully scolding look. “Why, Felix! I’m surprised at you! You should know more than anyone how rude it is to arrive at someone’s house early.”

Felix grimaced at the reminder of his bad manners and quickly turned to apologize.

“Oh don’t be silly!” Sabine said before he could get a word out. “Any friends of Marinette are friends of ours. You guys are welcome here anytime.”

Claude lit up at the sentiment. “I’m gonna be here a lot then.”

Allan popped out from behind Claude and Allegra. “Thank you for hosting us, M. and Mme Dupain-Cheng.”

Felix held back a smirk. He’d wondered when Allan would show himself.

“Please, call us Tom and Sabine.” Tom replied in a casual, yet booming voice. It highly contradicted his wife and daughter, who tended to speak in soft tones. “Follow me. I’ll show you where the kitchen is.”

The group was led into a room in the back where three islands stood in the center, each equally parted from each other. A large counter lined the wall to the left as well, and two, large ovens sat on each end of said counter.

“Do you guys want to start from scratch or start with pre-made dough?” Tom asked.

“Oh! Scratch! I want to be able to make these at home!” Claude answered eagerly. 

Tom smiled. “Alright! Scratch it is. Everyone take the needed ingredients on the counter.”

The group took a moment to pass around the items, then they separated to find a counter. Allan took the first counter with Tom, and Allegra and Claude stole the last counter, leaving the middle counter for Marinette and Felix. 

“I’m glad you guys got to come.” Marinette commented as they aligned their ingredients on the shared countertop.

Felix nodded. “I think Claude’s going to get a sugar-crash before we leave.”

Marinette snorted. “With all of those baked goods in the other room? I’d be surprised if he makes it to supper.”

Felix spared her a glance. “Are we staying for supper?”

Marinette paused, having to think out her answer. She must not have noticed the implication when she said it. “Uh.. I mean.. I wouldn’t mind. Do you guys want to stay for supper?”

Felix shrugged, though the idea sounded perfect. It would give him more time to understand the Dupain-Cheng’s lifestyle. “I’m sure Allegra and Claude will be ecstatic over the news. I’d have to contact my mother about the change in schedule, though.”

“Oh, were you planning something with her tonight?” Marinette asked, worry lacing her tone. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to.” Felix hastily amended. “I simply need to tell my mother that I won’t be home for supper tonight. We always have a family dinner when everyone is available.”

“And you won’t miss it?”

“Well, it sounds like it’s a special occasion, but everyone’s available more often than you’d expect.” 

Marinette tilted her head up and mouthed an ‘oh’. “I’ll tell Maman that you’re staying, then. She was sort of planning supper for all of you anyway.”

Felix smiled. Given the daily croissants that the group’s received since their first lunch with Marinette, that didn’t surprise him. Mme Sabine had proven to be an extremely kind and charitable person, much like her daughter.

Tom, once his own ingredients were in order, regained the room’s attention and began showing them how to make the croissants. Because he was in the front, it was easy to see how the ingredients were supposed to be thrown in and follow along. That said, Felix found himself extremely grateful to have Marinette as a partner. Her little tips on how to mix the dough helped him immensely, especially since she told him when his mixing was sufficient.

“Alright,” Tom sighed as he set his bowl to the side, “Now that the dough is done, we’re going to start the hard part. Everyone needs to get some flour so we can start rolling the dough and folding it. Marinette, if you would.”

Marinette sprang from her place next to Felix and crossed the room to a cabinet. She pulled it open and grabbed a large bag of flour that appeared to be at least a fourth full, then carried it to the long counter against the wall and set it down with a huff. 

“Here’s the flour that you all are going to be using.” Tom explained. “That should be plenty, but if you need more-”

A light knock on the doorframe ahead of them caused Tom to trail off. Felix glanced at the door to see Mme Sabine standing there, holding a sheepish smile.

“Tom, dear. I know you’re busy, but could you help me with this customer real quick?” She asked politely. “They’re being.. difficult.”

Felix noted the sharpness of her smile, along with the iron grip she had on the doorframe. It appeared that the sweet, loving mother also had a temperance, though he didn’t blame her. Customers had a tendency to be massive pains for retail workers. (That included himself on a few shameful occasions.)

M. Tom’s nervous smile said it all as he joined his wife at the door. “Oh, of course. Uh.. children, just- just keep doing what you’re doing. Marinette will show you how to roll the dough if necessary.”

The parents left the room, causing the rest of the group to turn to Marinette for instruction.

Marinette, who had returned to Felix’s side by that point, shrank slightly at the sudden attention. “Oh, uhm.. Do any of you know how to fold dough?”

A short laugh came from Allegra in the back. “Mari, I’m quite certain that none of us have even touched uncooked food before.”

“That’s the price you pay for being rich.” Allan agreed, putting a hand to his chest and shaking his head with feigned grief. 

Felix opted not to comment. His mother rather enjoyed cooking, much to their butler’s dismay. She often cooked their family meals, and every now and then, Felix found himself helping. “It’s a necessary skill.” she would tell him. “Your future wife will thank me and so will you.”

Why his mother assumed he would be able to tolerate anyone long enough to marry them was beyond him.

“Oh, how horrible for you.” Marinette retorted with a playful eye roll. “I guess I’ll show you how to fold dough then. For your sakes.”

“We are forever grateful.” Claude joked.

Marinette laughed and scooped up her bowl, bringing it to the front with Allan for all of them to see. 

“Now, everyone needs to get some flour. We’ll start with Claude and Allegra getting some. That way, the flour will work its way to the front by the time we’re done.” She instructed.

Felix nodded. That sounded like a reasonable plan.

Claude walked over to grab the bag as told and hauled it back to his and Allegra’s table. “How much are we going to need?”

“Oh, not much.” Marinette answered. “You only need some on the table and some on the dou- Claude, wait!”

Claude tipped the bag of flour upwards, expecting it to slide smoothly onto the table. Instead, the flimsy ingredient smacked into the table in a large clump, causing white dust to explode into the air. Felix scrunched up his nose in annoyance. How were they supposed to mix that? How easily did it spread? He knew he should have worn something less formal. (Oh, who was he kidding? Felix didn’t have anything less formal.)

An apologetic whimper came from Marinette, as if any of this was her fault. Claude and Allegra quickly fell into a coughing fit as Claude dropped the flour bag onto the ground. Of course, dropping the bag only threw more dust into the air. 

The two attempted to wave the dust away, but it only partly worked. When the dust did finally clear, though, Claude and Allegra were left with a small pile of flour on their table. The rest of the flour was either in the air or draped across their clothes and hair.

“Wow.” Felix stated dryly. “I’m impressed. You actually managed to wait until M. Tom left before making a complete mess of yourselves and the room.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it u-” Claude’s retort was cut off by another coughing fit, but Allegra continued it for him.

“I don’t see you rolling out your dough in a perfectly clean and pristine manner.”

“That’s because you used up the rest of the flour.” Felix shot back.

Marinette gasped. “Is it really all gone?”

Claude and Allegra, suddenly dawning a sheepish expression, looked down at the bag that was still on the floor. Claude reached down to pick it up, but, as if the situation weren’t bad enough already, he grabbed the wrong end and pulled it up upside down. 

The last bits of flour trickled to the floor, spreading across the brunette’s legs.

“...Yeah. It’s all-” He let out another cough “-gone.”

Allan’s eyes widened, a mixture of admiration and mortification swirling onto his features. “How did you waste an entire bag of flour on one spill?”

“You’d be surprised.” Marinette muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“We can reimburse you.” Allegra was quick to offer. “How much did the flour cost? Do you take checks?”

A light chuckle fell from Marinette’s lips. “No, no, that’s not necessary. I’ve.. actually done worse.”

Claude’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You’ve done worse?”

Felix thought over the many falls that Marinette had had over the past week. Her clumsiness certainly made it possible to have more extreme accidents. 

“What do we do now that the flour is gone?” He asked, trying to get the group back on track. The sooner they finished baking the croissants, the sooner he could examine the rest of Marinette’s house instead of sitting in the kitchen. The Dupain-Chengs appeared to be a lively, fun-loving family, but he’d only gotten a small taste of their life, only seen the tip of the iceberg. Felix wanted to absorb as many details as possible before leaving. 

Marinette straightened. “Oh! There’s actually more flour in the back! I’ll go get it.”

Before Felix could offer any assistance- his curiosity piqued about where they might store more food -the ravenette had already left the room, disappearing through another doorway in the back. 

A moment later, she returned, another large bag of flour in her hands. This time, however, the bag was full. Felix vaguely wondered how heavy the bags must weigh for her to be wobbling over with one so easily. Wasn’t flour supposed to be heavy?

“Here’s a fresh bag of flo-ou-ah!” Marinette’s words jumbled into jargon when her foot caught on her ankle. Her body lunged forward from the momentum, and Felix stepped up to catch her on reflex.

Bad idea. 

Due to the weight of the flour bag yanking her downwards, Marinette crashed into Felix’s and dragged him to the floor with her. His back hit the floor with a painful *thud*, immediately sucking all of the air from his lungs. 

Of course, the flour bag popped open upon impact, sending more white dust directly into his face. Between the weight of Marinette and the flour, along with his aching lungs and the suffocating dust, Felix was convinced that he was about to die right then and there on the bakery floor. 

Felix Culpa: tragically taken from this world by a bag of flour and a clumsy classmate. What a way to go.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, Felix. Are you okay??” Marinette asked frantically, pushing herself off of him. 

Felix coughed out a weak response with what little oxygen he had. Even without Marinette, the flour bag pressed into his chest like a block of concrete. How had she been carrying this without breaking a sweat earlier?

Marinette hauled the bag off of him, and Felix sucked in a deep breath despite the flour still cluttering the atmosphere. All he needed right now was some sweet, blessed air. Infected or no.

It wasn’t until he regained enough of his senses to push himself up into a sitting position that he heard Claude’s howling laughter.

“Oh, man!” The brunette cackled. “And you thought we were bad! Look at you, Fe! You’re a ghost!”

Felix glanced down at his clothes, which were indeed covered in white. He could even feel the weight of the flour in his hair. How long was this going to take to wash out? Was he going to have to buy new clothes before going home?

A snort brought his gaze upwards, where Marinette stood with the bag of flour. She had a hand on her mouth- holding the bag of flour with one hand -and a barely contained smile on her lips that she was obviously trying to hide. 

That’s when Felix knew that he must be looking ridiculous. 

“At least I wasn’t the one to cause the mess.” Felix grumbled in response to Claude. He reached up to start brushing some of the flour out of his hair, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that Marinette was white with flour as well. It might have been irksome if she had escaped her fall unscathed while he appeared to be a freshly made snowman.

“I am. So sorry.” Marinette apologized again, this time offering him her hand to help him up.

Felix took it, his bafflement towards her uncanny amount of strength only growing as she managed to pull him up with one arm and keep the bag of flour steady in her other arm.

“It’s..” not your fault. Was what he was about to say, except that would be a lie. It was entirely her fault.

“It’s fine.” He said instead. “It’s just clothes.”

“Wow~” Allegra sang, immediately latching onto Felix’s nerves. “‘It’s just clothes’? That’s a first.”

“Remember that time Felix threatened to sue us for enough money to buy a new wardrobe if we ‘got so much as one drop of food on his vest’?” Allan chimed in.

Embarrassment coiled around Felix’s stomach, though he wasn’t sure why. That designer outfit was expensive! And the trio was acting especially chaotic that day. Who knows what might have happened had he not put his foot down when they started joking about a food fight.

Felix whipped around to Allan to explain that exact reasoning, but something caught his attention, causing him to pause. Allan was still at the front of the room, the farthest position from the chaos that had just ensued. Aside from the stray dust still fluttering around the room, the man was completely untouched as far as flour was concerned. 

“Marinette,” He said, catching the girl’s eye, “I do believe that Allan hasn’t gotten his flour yet.”

Marinette’s gaze flicked to Allan, then to the bag, and Felix prayed that he assessed her correctly. Because if Allan didn’t get flour on him this instant, Felix might be tempted to do something foolish. Like attempting to throw a bag of flour that was, without a doubt, too heavy for him to even lift on his own.

The barest hints of amusement lit up Marinette’s features. “You know what? I think you’re right.”

Felix smiled, feeling a devilish satisfaction. Yes!

Allan took a step back, suddenly looking very concerned. 

“Woah, w-wait a second, guys.” He squeaked, holding up his hands as Marinette inched forward. “L-Let’s talk about this!”

“One of us. One of us.” Claude began chanting behind them. “One of us! One of us!”

Allegra joined in, and, in the spirit of things, Felix joined in as well, if only to push Marinette further towards his goal.

Allan bumped into his assigned counter while trying to put useless distance between himself and Marinette. “Please, no! It’s rare that I come out of these things unscathed!”

Marinette’s grin was downright predatory as she held up the bag of flour. “I can’t imagine why.”

Allan’s scream was the last thing Felix heard before Marinette swung the flour bag forward. 

The entire room erupted into uncontrollable laughter as Allan coughed out at least half the bag. He was now stark white from head to toe, and Felix couldn’t be prouder. It served him right for poking the bear.

Allan hung his head in defeat, a bit of flour falling off of his head from the action. This only made the group laugh harder. Claude started to say something about the “set being complete”, but before he could finish-

“What is going on?!” 

M. Tom reappeared in the doorway, his eyes wide and puzzled as he stared at the flour-covered room. 

Felix froze. Right. They were supposed to be baking with Marinette’s parents. 

Marinette set the flour bag down immediately. “I’m sorry, Papa, this is all my fault.”

“No, that’s not fair!” Claude protested. “Allegra and I spilled the flour bag first!”

“So she had to go get more!” Allegra continued the explanation.

“I’m the one who told her to throw the fresh flour at Allan.” Felix added. If anyone was to get in trouble, it should certainly be him. He was the only one who actually spilled the flour on purpose. Marinette didn’t deserve to take the blame for his petty actions.

M. Tom furrowed at the near-simultaneous remarks, but then let out a hearty laugh.

“I see you’ve all gotten into the baking spirit!” He declared. “Now who wants to learn how to actually fold dough?”

Felix blinked. He’d expected the man to be at least a little upset. Did this sort of thing happen often? Or was Marinette’s father simply that forgiving? M. Tom did refer to the mess as ‘the baking spirit’.. Whatever that means.

“Yeah we do!” Claude shouted enthusiastically, taking Felix from his thoughts.

“Great! Let’s start with putting the flour on the table.” Tom smiled, going back to his original spot next to Allan.

Felix followed the notion, going back to his original spot as well. He tried brushing more of the flour off of his vest, but, as expected, it didn’t help much. He was probably going to get more flour on him during the folding process anyway.

“Don’t worry.” Marinette whispered as she reclaimed her spot next to him. “I’ll let you guys wash up in the bathroom after this. If you want to, that is.”

Felix nodded. “I would be eternally grateful.” 

Marinette giggled. “..So did you really threaten to sue them over your clothes?”

Felix paused his kneading long enough to sigh. Freaking Allan. That idiot deserved every speck of flour dust that he had on him.

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182

[grey-water-colors]

After All This Time (Bucky x Fem!Reader) Part 4

It's short, but I cried writing it. I've hit a bit of a writers block, but I think I've got that sorted out. I just needed to take a thinking shower and I got it. This will be my longest series and I'm trying to eek it out a bit, but I'm still new at this, so please have patience.

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the figurative ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of torture, death, triggers. Mentions of humiliation. Sadness, depression, self-loathing. ANGST. Fluff comes next time I think.

Word Count: 2,066 Shorter than usual, but I think I make up for it in feels.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

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

A knock at the door startles Y/N out of her thoughts. She hadn’t really left the apartment for anything other than her job, which was only two days a week. Despite having almost completely shutting down, the house was clean.

Y/N opened the door and gaped at the person on the other side.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve just smiled. “May I come in?”

She opened the door wider so Steve could walk through, then shut the door gently. She turned around and watched Steve walk to the couch on the opposite wall and take a seat. She opted to perch on the arm of the wingback.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve laughed quietly, amused with her. “I could say I just wanted to visit an old friend,” he smiled.

Y/N smiled but it fell as soon as it came. “But that isn’t the case is it?”

Steve sighed and she could see the same wear and tear in his eyes that every soldier carried around. He looked older, despite looking only in his 30’s. She supposed war does that to people though.

“I’m here to apologize for Bucky. He was out of line. I could hardly believe that he did what he did. I had hoped that if I gave him time, he would come here and do it himself.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him. I get it. I really do, and to a certain degree, he was right. But I have my own reasons for being here.”

Steve just nodded. “Has Sam told you about him?”

She let out a harsh laugh. “He didn’t need to. I was there. I know full well what he went through.”

“I wish I knew-,” he paused. “I wish I knew how to help. To ease his burden.”

“We all have our crosses to carry, some heavier than others. What we, and hundreds of others, went through was a horrific experience that isn’t easily put into words. He seems better though, right?”

Steve nodded, looking for words, “He isn’t the same.”

“None of us are,” she whispered. “That’s not the point of it though. If you’re trying to get the old Bucky back then you’re beating a dead horse. Help him become who he is now. Someone with more baggage than any person should ever carry. Don’t try to change him.”

“I’ll work on that. Speaking of people who have changed, are you ok? Sam says you haven’t been down to the VA in a while. He’s getting worried.”

Y/N shrugged and looked away. She wasn’t ok, but if she told that to Steve, he would do everything in his power to help her and she didn’t want his kind of help.

She put on a small smile. “If we’re going to talk about people changing, I think we should talk about you. What happened to scrawny Steve? You were my height the last I saw you and now you’re a buff giant.”

He laughed. “I’ve a lot to catch you up on.”

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

“Steve. Before you leave, I’ve got something that I was hoping you’d give to Jam- Bucky.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Y/N handed him a letter. The writing on the outside just said ‘Bucky’.

“I’ll get this to him.”

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

There was a knock on Bucky’s door, then Steve walked in. Bucky looked at Steve with a look of sadness and self-loathing.

“What’d she say?” he whispered.

“That there was no reason to apologize.”

Bucky huffed. “Bullshit. I yelled at her. I called her weak and pathetic,” he looked away. “She would say something like that though.”

Steve sighed. “She gave me this to give to you.” He held out the letter.

“What’s in it?”

“No idea. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

Bucky nodded, reluctant to open it.

Steve stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll let you read that in peace. I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”

Steve walked out and Bucky stared at the envelope in his hands. It was thick, and there was something small and lumpy in it.

He looked at, debating whether to open it or to put it in a drawer and leave it there till ate him alive. Curiosity got the best of him.

He opened the seal of the envelope with care, being sure not to rip it. When it was open he turned it over and something fell into his lap. His heart dropped.

There, on his lap, was the ring that been used to propose to her with. The last he had saw it, it had been nestled next her dog tags in the master bedroom. Why was it here?

He pulled out the folded paper and opened it. Smaller papers fell out onto his lap. They were old and had yellowed with time. He picked through some of them. His Social Security card, his birth certificate, and his bank papers. Everything he needed to restart his life outside of the avengers.

He finally started reading the letter.

~~~

Dear James,

Can I even call you James anymore? The only other person who called you that was your mother and maybe your sisters. There are so many things that I wanted to tell you when I saw you. To say to you, but then things, well you were there. I feel like I owe you a bit of an explanation.

As you know, I was to leave a week after you. My orders were to fly to London to work there for three weeks, then get new orders. That’s not important though. What is important is that week that I spent alone was torture.

I wasn’t raised ignorant of the troubles of the world. Just like the rest of our age, I grew up in the Great Depression. My parents lost their job, and we almost lost our house. I grew up with the aftermath of the first World War. According to my mother, my father never recovered. War does that to people. It rips away your soul, takes your very being. I knew that.

When the second World War started, I would lay awake next to you and pray that US wouldn’t get involved. It was my worst nightmare. When the US did join, I knew, somehow that our lives were over. You probably don’t remember that I spent almost every waking moment with you. I was so happy when you proposed, but heartbroken as well. I just knew.

Knew that we weren’t coming back.

I spent the days of that week after you left getting things in order. Papers in the lockbox, hide the lockbox key. Cover the furniture to preserve it. I took care of everything. I left the ring in the lockbox.

I spent my nights awake in your chair, wondering what you were doing. Wondering if you were thinking of me. I’ll never know.

I was in Germany during December of 44. I was traveling with a group of soldiers. Everything happened so fast. Gunshots, yelling, blood. So much blood. That shade of red in the snow will always be etched into my brain. The German soldiers took prisoners, I was one of them. Out of the 25 I was traveling with, I ended up being the only survivor.

I transferred into the hands of Hydra. A replacement for a dead lab rat. My predecessor. They tortured me for so long. Wore me down to nothing. Humiliated me for game.

Every night as I laid in my cell, all I could think of was you. The memories of us in those three years. How perfect they were.

Of course, they weren’t perfect. We had fights, but they were never too bad. The apartment itself wasn’t great either, but it was home. The ceiling leaked in the bathroom, the floors creaked in the hallway, and the water took fifteen minutes to heat up. When you’re being tortured though, I guess that the mind only sees the good. I fixated on the apartment. It became the safe place. The only place in the world where the monsters couldn’t get to me. I held onto this place as long as I could.

But as much as the apartment was my safe place, all my memories of it were with you. So you had melted into that feeling of safety.

After they blocked away those memories, I didn’t even know they were gone. I became their puppet, a lab rat with no past or identity. Until I met you again. I didn’t know you, those memories were tucked away. My heart knew you though. I felt safe around you, which didn’t make sense because you were the Winter Soldier. Oh, but we worked well together. We did a couple missions, and I was living off an emotion I didn’t even know the name to.

Love. I didn’t know what that word even meant anymore, or what it felt like, but my heart reminded me every time you looked at me.

In the end, it was my fault that you ended up with the trauma you carry around pertaining to me. I got emotional when it was time to go, and we both suffered the consequences for it.

That happened in 1997. I went onto ice for the last time with a damaged windpipe, minor brain damage, and no memories to speak of. I was sent to Africa, and was going to be undergoing testing there, but my handlers got killed. I remained on ice for 27 years until Wakandan soldiers found me.

Shuri worked for 6 months to get rid of all the damage done to me with help of the notes that traveled with me. I spent 7 more months drowning in everything. I remembered everything. Every test, every horrid thing they did to me. But the worst part was remembering you. Remembering you and knowing what happened to you broke me.

It turns out I was right all along. We weren’t going back. I had to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t going to come back to me. So I reveled in the memories of you. Of us.

I had so many emotional setbacks, I was stuck reliving memories just from small triggers. A wrong look could send me spiraling into a black hole. But then I’d remember the apartment.

I couldn’t wait to go back. The one thing that had kept me sane, alive, and hopeful. The king paid for a plane ticket and I was back in New York. I wasn’t ready.

I had been so stuck in remembering that I didn’t, couldn’t, process the new. Still I persisted, until I could be in that apartment again. I had convinced myself that it would fix everything.

That it would fix me.

But you probably know that isn’t how life works. Those same memories that propelled me and kept me afloat, are now the anchor that drags me under. I’m drowning in the memories, and they cling to me. I’m trapped in a prison of my own making, unable to leave the ghosts haunting my memories of things that will never be again.

I stay awake at night reliving the days where I was happy, carefree, and in-love. But the truth is that I can’t sleep in the bed we shared because you aren’t in it. I can’t look at pictures of us, because we aren’t them anymore. I can’t wear the ring, because we are strangers.

So I live in a museum of things that shouldn’t exist anymore because I can’t move on. This apartment is killing me inside, but I can’t leave because I’ve convinced myself that this is the only place I’ll be safe.

The truth is, I am safe in this apartment, because the only thing that can hurt me here is myself.

Along with this letter, I’m also returning the ring. It belongs to you. I have also included your bank account numbers, so that you can access your accounts. I’m sure you won’t have as much trouble as I did.

I’d offer you a key, but I don’t think you’d ever want to step foot in here again. Truthfully, if I were you, I wouldn’t either, lest you get stuck here too.

Maybe in another life we could have been together longer, but just not in this one.

Love,

Sincerely,

Y/N

[cowboy-eddie]

May’s Tattoo

When May decides she wants to get a tattoo, and Athena isn’t exactly with the idea, she turns to two of the most tattooed people she knows; Buck and Eddie.

You can also read this on my AO3! hit up CallMeG :)

“Mom, I want to get a tattoo.”

Athena paused for a second, before turning to her daughter.

“What brought that on?”

“I want to express myself. I want to have something that defines me right now, even if it won’t later because it’s relevant now and it’s something I want to do while I’m young.”

Athena hummed, patting Bobby on the shoulder for backup and he cleared his throat.

“I’m sure Buck or Eddie would have a couple of recommendations.”

“Bobby, Buck and Eddie both got their tattoos elsewhere in the country.”

“Not true; Buck has one on his ribs he got in LA and Eddie got one before he came back to work on his arm.”

May crossed her arms.

“Is Eddie gonna give me that dad speech he has warmed up at all times?”

“Probably.”

Athena glared at Bobby, jabbing her elbow into his ribs to get him to shut up. Of all the people, she thought he’d be the one against it.

“Fine. I’ll ask Buck.”

May reached into her pocket and tapped away on her phone. A second later she had an answer and picked up her keys.

“I’m going to see Buck; I’ll be back later.”

“Okay honey, drive safe,” Athena called after her. She turned to Bobby, hands on her hips, and Bobby’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“I was asking for help to convince her not to, Bobby.”

“She had a really good argument! Besides, I’m her stepfather. At least with Buck and Eddie she has good support.”

may’s tattoo

Buck opened the door and smiled at May, giving her a quick hug before inviting her inside.

“Eddie is here too; he’s in the living room.”

“Is Christopher here?” May asked, poking her head in and Buck shook his head.

“Abuela and Pepa practically begged to take him off Eddie’s hands for the night.”

“So just two bros, chilling on a couch, five feet apart...”

“Don’t say it,” Buck huffed and May laughed as she tossed her purse and mask on to the counter before taking off her shoes and leaving them on the shoe rack.

“Hey, Buck, can you grab me a beer?” Eddie called from the living area and Buck grabbed it from the fridge, popping the top off before leading May over to the couch.

“Eds, May is here. She wants to ask us something.”

“What’s up?”

Eddie sat up, feet on the floor instead of the couch and suddenly May got the idea they’d been snuggling before she knocked.

“Am I interrupting date night?”

“No!”

“What are those anymore?”

May glanced between Eddie and her pseudo-brother, before she laughed.

“I definitely did. Uh, I wanted to ask you guys about your tattoos. I was thinking of getting one, and Bobby directed me to you two.”

“That’s so not a good idea,” Eddie snorted into his beer and Buck shoved his elbow into his boyfriend’s ribs before turning back to May.

“What are we talking? First experiences? I got my first one when I was eighteen, and I probably wouldn’t recommend getting one in a dodgy parlour out the back of a gas station.”

“Is that even legal?” May asked and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Probably not. Uh, my first one... I got it right before I went to Afghanistan. It meant a lot to me.”

“Find a way. Hm.”

“My parents aren’t like yours, May. They wanted to coddle me for all the wrong reasons, and I had to get out of there. Christopher was more their son than I was.”

Buck squeezed Eddie’s shoulder, shrugging.

“Mine are all just a reminder of my life experiences and everything I’ve done.”

Next thing May knew, Buck had pulled up his shirt to show off his most recent ones.

“The uh- the human head, and the brain- it kinda symbolises how brilliant the human mind is when we remember to use it, and sometimes I need the reminder to use it.”

May burst out laughing and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“That’s an understatement. The one on my other arm... not the quote...”

“The map and compass?” May asked and he nodded, pulling up the hoodie May only just realised was Buck’s to show his forearm. It was clearly scarred, from shit she had no reason to ask about, but the detail in the image was beautiful.

“Oh my god- Eddie, it’s... it’s gorgeous. That would have taken ages!”

“Thanks, and it did. Something about guiding me in the right direction. North always leads to home.”

“I thought North always led to water?” Buck asked, brows furrowed. May shushed him, suddenly interested in the designs on Eddie’s arm.

“Did it hurt?”

“Nah-“

“-he has no sense of pain, May, don’t listen to him,” Buck said and Eddie glared.

“Neither do you, asshole.”

“Okay, if you want to get into this-“

“-guys! Can you at least wait until I’m out the door before you start making out?”

Buck pulled Eddie’s hoodie sleeves down and Eddie swatted at the back of his head.

“Do you know what you want?” Buck asked and May shrugged.

“I’m not sure yet, but I have some ideas.”

may’s tattoo

A few weeks later, Bobby appeared in the doorway to his office and called for Buck and Eddie. They headed into the office and Bobby closed the door, hands on his hips.

“So you convinced May getting a tattoo was a good idea.”

“Uh, no, we didn’t,” Eddie said, eyebrows furrowed but Buck shrugged.

“We didn’t exactly discourage it.”

“Buck!” Eddie huffed, shoving an elbow into his boyfriend’s ribs while Bobby just sighed.

“You two had one job. One.”

“I thought it was saving people,” Buck deadpanned. This time Bobby was the one who smacked him upside the head.

“Athena is not keen for May to get a tattoo!”

“Oh,” Buck and Eddie said simultaneously. Bobby nodded.

“Oh indeed. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I don’t want you to scare her out of it, but I do want you guys to be honest the next time she asks questions- maybe don’t tell her about the weed, Buck?”

Buck promptly shut his mouth and winced. He didn’t think Bobby knew about that part of Buck 0.5.

“You got it Cap,” Eddie agreed, hooking a finger through the belt loop at the back of Buck’s pants.

may’s tattoo

“May, come through. Do you have someone with you- Buck! Are you here with this young lady?”

“Yeah, May is my captain’s stepdaughter. Eddie might swing by later though.”

Following the tattoo artist through to a private room, the tattoo artist flicked the curtain closed and shook Buck’s hand.

“Good to see you man. Okay May, what are we doing today?”

“I want a line of power poles.”

“Wow, nice choice. Okay, sit down and let’s do a little prep work before I start drawing.”

May took a seat on the chair while Buck stood toward the back of the room, watching May’s eyes dart around the room.

“Hey. It’s okay if you’re not ready,” he said gently, “we can rebook for later.”

“No! I’m doing this.”

The tattoo artist took a seat on one of the stools, reaching for a sketchpad and transfer paper.

“So, power poles. Where are you thinking of putting them?”

“On my side.”

May lifted her tank top to expose her ribs, gesturing to the area. The tattoo artist frowned.

“That is one of the more painful places to get your first tattoo. I’m happy to do it, I just wanted you to be aware it’s not going to be comfortable.”

“He’s right,” Buck said. May smacked him on the arm.

“I’m doing this. Shut up.”

Buck promptly shut his mouth and the tattoo artist did some sketching on his paper before reaching for a marker.

“I’m going to mark it out on your skin with this, and then you can tell me what you think. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

may’s tattoo

“Hey, my boyfriend and his stepsister are here. May and Evan?”

“Oh, yeah, come through. Do they know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, he just asked me to bring coffee for him and something for May to sip on.”

The receptionist at the tattoo store led Eddie through the back rooms before knocking on a door.

“Hey, Kevin, Evan’s boyfriend is here. Can he come in?”

There was confirmation from the other side and the receptionist gestured for Eddie to go inside.

“Knock yourself out, I guess.”

Eddie opened the door and Buck glanced up at him with a smile.

“Hi sweetheart- oh thank god.”

“Caramel frappe, with a drizzle of chocolate sauce in the frappe as well as one on top. That was one of your tamer coffee orders, baby.”

“You’re a saint. Kevin, you remember Eddie?”

“Hey man, how’s that tattoo going?”

Kevin was working along May’s ribs. May had a death grip on Buck’s hand and she kept trying to focus on her phone but Eddie could see she was in pain. Clearing his throat, he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Need another hand to break?”

“Shut up.”

Eddie put the coffee tray on the table, Buck giving him a kiss. Eddie settled on Buck’s knee, giving May’s wrist a squeeze.

“You doing okay?”

“It doesn’t sting or anything, it’s just… uncomfortable.”

“That’s good. We booked Kevin because he knows exactly how to do this without hurting you too badly.”

Buck took a sip of his frappe, sighing in relief.

“Now that is good.”

“When can we get you back in the chair, Eddie? Any plans?” Kevin asked, focus on the lines he was tracing.

“Uh, maybe. I have some ideas. My son just turned ten, so I was thinking about something for him but I’m not sure yet.”

may’s tattoo

Helping May off the chair, Buck pulled the mirror around and she beamed at the brand new tattoo on her side, about to be wrapped. Eddie smiled as May turned to hug Buck before she paused.

“Okay. No hugs for a little while. Wrap me, Kevin.”

Kevin wrapped the tattoo and put a non-stick dressing on top, finishing up. He passed May the gel for aftercare, smiling at Buck and Eddie.

“I’m sure these two can tell you how to use this stuff.”

“It’s pretty straightforward, right?” May said.

“Relatively,” Buck agreed. Leaning into Buck’s side, Eddie pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Bobby’s gonna kill us.”

“We can avoid him. Surely.”

“How long have you known Bobby, again?”

may’s tattoo

First thing Monday morning, Bobby leaned over the balcony and yelled for Buck and Eddie as they came in. Exchanging glances, they put their duffel bags in their locker and headed upstairs. Bobby was sitting at the dining table, hands together.

“So, May came home Saturday afternoon with a brand new tattoo. You two wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

“Uh-“

“-we did our research beforehand. Eddie and I both went to the same tattoo artist last time and I’ve worked with him before. I had a chat with him before May went in and we were both there the whole time.”

Bobby was quiet for a moment as he took in Buck’s confession. Shrugging, he got up.

“Sounds like May’s old enough to make her own decisions. Athena wants her safe, and I trust you two to make sure she is. Thank you for helping her make her own decisions.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Transfer

Troy Bolton x Reader

Words: 4064

Summary: Moving schools isn’t easy. Moving to the rival school… Start of something new? Or complete disaster. 

Notes: I will stop writing for Troy when my love for him ceases… so never. (This is another one that is going to deal with bullying, even more so than the last one, so if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to move along)

Warnings: Cyber bullying, angst

-

Nobody knew. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Nobody knew you or anything that had happened. Granted, that also meant you didn’t know anyone either. Strangers passed you without a second glance. This was good. If nobody noticed you, they wouldn’t attack. If you stayed invisible, you stayed safe. 

“Hey Chad, over here!” You were so busy looking at your new schedule that you didn’t see the basketball hurtling towards you. The ball hit you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you and causing you to drop your books. “Oh gosh, I am so so so sorry.”

A boy crouched down in front of you, trying to gather up your papers before they were swept away under his classmates’ shuffling feet. 

“It’s okay,” You gasped, stilling trying to catch your breath. He helped pick up the last of your things and held out his hand to help you up. 

“I’m Troy.” He gave you a smile that would have made the entire cheer squad at West High swoon. You took his hand, feeling the blush on your cheeks. 

“Y/N.” So much for staying invisible. 

“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt.” The apologetic puppy face was almost as cute as his smile. 

“I’ll be fine. I probably should have been paying more attention.” You laughed nervously. 

“And I should have caught the ball.” As he handed your things back to you, he caught a glimpse of your schedule. “Hey, you have Mrs. Darbus for homeroom!”

“Um, yeah, I was trying to find her room.” You anxiously tucked a hair behind your ear. 

“I can show you.” He offered, that gorgeous smile returning. “My friends and I have her too.”

“Drop something?” A blonde girl wearing the pinkest jacket you had ever seen held out Troy’s basketball. His smile strained. 

“Thanks Sharpay.” Her vicious gaze turned on you. 

“And who are you?” And here you thought all the scary girls went to West High. 

“I-uh-I’m-” You stuttered. Troy came to the rescue. 

“Look at the time! We’re all going to be late for homeroom if we don’t hurry.” He quickly ushered you away from Sharpay, helping you steer through the herd of students to Mrs. Darbus’ room. 

“Who was that?’ You whispered as seats started to fill up. 

“That was Sharpay Evans. The evil queen of East High. Just stay off her bad side and you should be fine.” He shuttered, grabbing his usual desk. All the seats around Troy were filled so you picked an empty desk in the back row. The scary blonde, along with a few other late comers got in the door just as the bell rang. 

“Troy, pass it.” One of the guys held out his hand. Troy threw him the basketball and he proceeded to spin the ball on his finger. “You ready for the game?” He grinned. 

“Are you kidding? The Knights are so going down.” Troy made a hoop with his arms and his friend tossed the ball in. The room pretended to cheer and you couldn’t help but smile at the antics. Your teacher wasn’t as amused. 

“Mr Danforth, Mr. Bolton, it seems you’ve lost your way to the court. This is a classroom. I will be seeing you two superstars-”

“In detention.” They finished grimly. 

“You must be new.” The girl next to you whispered. “She had gorgeous brown hair and a kind smile. “I know how you feel. I moved here last year. I’m Gabriella.” 

“I’m Y/N.” Your cell phone buzzed in your pocket. You opened up your messages, feeling that awful icy dread that you had tried to get away from.

“Miss Y/L/N, correct?” Mrs. Darbus stood over you, holding a bucket. 

“Y-yes.” 

“While your former school may have allowed electronics, I certainly do not.” She motioned to your phone. You slumped in your chair and dropped it into the bucket. 

“Sorry ma’am.”

“Not to worry I’m sure you’ll make plenty of new friends in detention.” She returned to the front of the room. You didn’t dare argue, burying your face in your hands with a sigh. You felt the words of the message resonate in your head. 

You can run. But you can’t hide. 

-

Detention didn’t seem so bad. You mostly just had to help paint sets for the end of the year one-act. You had your face buried behind a picket fence when a pair of blue eyes peaked at you between the boards. 

“Need some help?” Troy offered, leaning over the fence. 

“Be careful of the paint!” You exclaimed before his hands got covered. You swiped your arm across your forehead and Troy started to snicker. “What?”

“You’ve got a little…” He motioned to the spot above your eyebrow. Horrified, you scrambled to find a rag to clean off the paint. Troy laughed, but not in a mocking way. You couldn’t help but laugh with him. How long had it been since you laughed with someone? Let alone an outrageously cute guy?

“I meant to say thanks earlier, for helping me find Mrs. Darbus’ class.” You said, getting back to work on the fence. 

“It’s the least I could do after missing the ball.” He sat down next to you and grabbed a brush to help. 

You heard an outburst of laughter from across the stage and winced. You whirled your head around and saw a group of students messing around with funny looking masks from the costume trunk. You exhaled slowly to calm down. They weren’t laughing at you. 

“You okay?” Troy wondered, noticing your sudden change in demeanor. You forced a smile and said your well rehearsed line. 

“I’m fine.” 

For the first time, somebody saw through it. Troy may not have given any indication, but he could tell that something had upset you. He just nodded and smiled. 

“Are you coming to the game this weekend?” He changed the topic excitedly, hoping to distract you from whatever had made you upset. 

“I don’t know yet.” You sighed. “I have a lot to catch up on and stuff to set up.” His face fell into that adorable pout and you just couldn’t say no. “I can try and squeeze it in.” His eyes lit up. 

“Great!” Through his excitement, a slightly shy smile crept onto his lips. “I was kind of hoping that you’d want to get a pizza or something after the game?”

You tried to keep your jaw from dropping. 

“Are you… asking me out?” You gasped. He grinned. 

“Yeah. I guess I am.” His fingers brushed against yours as both reached for the paint. You blushed. 

“Then, um, yeah. I’d love to go out with you after the game.” You were smiling brighter than you had in a long time, but still, a little voice in your head was telling you this was a bad idea. Stay invisible. Stay invisible. 

“Awesome.” Troy was beaming, making that little voice of doubt disappear. “I promise, I play much better than what you saw in the hall.” You both laughed. Wow he has a nice laugh. 

Mrs. Darbus announced that the time was up and that all prisoners of detention were free to go. Honestly, you were kind bummed. With Troy helping you with the fence, you were actually having a good time. You had a skp in your step as you walked home. 

“Hi mom! Hi dad!” You greeted, snatching an apple for a snack. Your mom’s voice called from the backyard. 

“Hey! How was your first day?” She was elbows deep in tulip bulbs even though it was late January. Then again, you were in New Mexico.

“Really god, actually.” You grinned. “I met some really nice people and got invited to the basketball game this weekend.”

“Woah, what happened to laying low for a while?” She rubbed the dirt off her hands on her apron. Her usual perky cheerleader smile was gone, replaced by a glare of concern. “You know the basketball game is against West High, don’t you?”

“I-” You hadn’t thought about that. Trying to seem confident, you crossed your arms. “I can’t hide forever, mom.”

“Those girls are going to be there.” She said, putting her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t it be better to just stay home and not drag out the skeletons in your closet?”

“They’re just cheerleaders, mom! They aren’t hitmen.” You exclaimed. You knew that this was more about protecting her pride than your own. 

“Yeah, well, you used to be one of them and look how that turned out.” the disappointed stare she gave you hurt, but you tried not to show it. 

“I'm going to the game and I'm going out for pizza afterwards with one of my new friends.”

“Is that new friend a boy?” She spat. You ignored her. 

“I’m going whether that fits your little ‘laying low’ plan or not.” You stormed off, but not before you heard her muttering under her breath. 

“Haven’t you humiliated me enough?”

-

The next day, you walked with your head down. Your mother’s pessimism had definitely brought your sunny mood back down to earth. Leave it to her to ruin the one good thing you’d had in months. Your attempts to disappear worked well for the fist two periods. Nobody even noticed that you were there. 

Of course, that only lasted until Gabriella spotted you. The bubbly brunette was quick to join you while you tried to navigate your way to your next class. 

“I heard you’re going to the basketball game!” She said excitedly. “I didn’t think I was much of a sports person, but the school spirit here makes everything exciting.” 

“Yeah, I'm not sure.” You shrugged. After all, half of your classmates from West High would be there, including the girls that started all this. Rob would be on the court, playing against Troy. Oh no.

“Well you are welcome to come with me and Taylor. We’re going to have a movie night afterwards, too.” 

“I’m- uh- I’m supposed to be grabbing dinner with Troy after the game.” You muttered, the excitement of the date having faded into dread. 

“You have a date with Troy Bolton?” A shrill voice joined the conversation, stopping you in your tracks. The terrifying blonde was giving you an icy cold stare. “That was quick.” 

“I think it's sweet.” Gabriella countered. She gave you a smirk. “Who knows? Maybe it was love at first sight.” Your eyes fell to the tiled floor. 

“I think he was just being nice.” Your grim tone made her give you a look of concern. Sharpay smiled sarcastically. 

“Well isn’t that just like our Troy?” Her sneer made her annoyance very clear. She put her hands on her hips and began a deeper interrogation. “You’re from West High, aren’t you?” Before you could even answer, she continued. “Won’t that be awkward, coming to the basketball game? Why did you transfer? It’s a little weird, right? Transferring a month into the semester?” 

“Okay!” Gabriella exclaimed. “I think it’s time we all get to class, don’t you think?” Sherpa was clearly irked by the interruption and tossed her hair over shoulder. 

“I guess I’ll just see you both at the game.” She strutted away and you exhaled the breath you had been holding. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don’t worry about her.” Gabriella shrugged. “Sharpay is usually all bark and no bite.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” You said to yourself. 

After third period, it was time for lunch. You found the same empty table that you sat at the day before. You were used to eating alone by now. 

Somewhere in the lunchroom, a phone dinged, followed by laughter. You flinched, waiting for the taunting to start. Like before, however, they weren’t really laughing at you. Keeping your head low, you tuned out the loud chatter of the cafeteria. For a while, it really felt like you were invisible. Invisible and alone. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

You looked up and found Troy giving you a sweet smile. You shrugged in reply and he took that as confirmation that something was wrong. He sat down beside you as you toyed with the green beans on your plate. 

“Gabriella told me about Sharpay. She said you seemed pretty upset.” His words only elicited another shrug. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m here if you do.”

“I can’t go to the game.” You blurted. 

“What? Why?”

“I just can’t, Troy.” You kept your face down, so he couldn’t see your tears. “I can’t go out with you either.”

“Y/N, if I said something wrong-”

“Can’t you see I’m doing you a favor?” You slammed your hand down on the table and you finally looked up to see his hurt expression. You almost took it back. Then your phone buzzed ominously and you grabbed your backpack. “I’m really sorry, Troy. But if they saw us together, if they thought I was happy-”

“Who are you talking about?” He was worried now. “Who’s they?”

“Forget I said anything and just… forget me.” Clutching your phone in a tight fist, you ran out of the cafeteria. 

You weren’t sure if Troy followed you or not as you sprinted down the halls of East High. You didn’t read the text until you got out to the parking lot. There weren’t any words. Just that stupid video. 

It was the cheer squad’s Christmas party. There had been some tension between you and the other girls, but you hadn’t thought much of it. ‘Girls as close as you are bicker.’ your mom had said. So you went to the party. 

Amber, the cheer captain and your supposed best friend, told you that Rob Mannington wanted to talk to you. She knew how much of a crush you had on him. Problem was, so did she. 

When you found Rob, you thought the two of you were alone. He took off your jacket and said a bunch of sweet things as he leaned in for a kiss.

“I can’t do this.” He burst out laughing, pushing you away. Other girls from the cheer squad appeared, cackling like a bunch of Prada clad hyenas. Hurt and humiliated, you ran. 

After that, it just got worse. Text messages, online harassment, and eventually, someone took a picture in the locker room and posted it all around the school. Your mother immediately had you transfer to East High. She was ashamed of you and blamed you for the loss of her social status. She didn't care that you lost everything. 

You let out a frustrated and hopeless scream and threw your phone as hard as you could against the concrete. The device broke apart and you stared at it. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder that you let yourself cry. 

You turned around and were in Troy’s embrace without objection. You let this sweet and caring boy hold you tight while you sobbed. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He was just there. 

-

“Wow.” Troy blew out a long breathing, running his fingers through his hair. “And these were your friends?”

“I thought they were.” You sighed, wiping a fallen tear off your cheek. 

After your break down at lunch, Troy told you to meet him for homeroom. He told Mrs. Darbus that you were going through some stuff and needed a friend. So he brought you to his favorite spot in the whole school; the roof. And you told him everything. It was the first time that you’d really talked about what happened with anyone and it was nice to get it off your chest. 

“I’m really sorry that happened to you.” Troy put his hand on top of yours. “And I totally understand if you don’t want to come to the game. What those West High kids did… I can’t imagine what it was like.” 

“I felt like my whole life- all the cheerleading camps, the coaching from my perfect mother, kissing up to every spoiled girl with pom poms- it all meant nothing.” You were quiet for a moment, Troy’s thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. With a deep breath and your head held high, you made your decision. “I’m going to that game.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get thrown back into everything because of me.” The concern in his voice was more than either of your parents had shown. You gave him a small, but confident smile.

“No. I’m tired of hiding from them. I’m done being invisible.” With your new confidence, you leaned over and kiss his cheek. 

Troy’s face turned a light shade of pink as he grinned. 

“What was that for?’ He wondered sheepishly. Your smile was sincere. 

“For being the first real friend I’ve had in seventeen years.” You leaned your head on his shoulder and he entwined his fingers with yours. You had only known him for two days, but he already seemed to understand you better than anybody else in your life. 

He turned slightly and pressed his lips on top of your hair, lingering there for a moment. Troy couldn’t understand his own feelings, but after less than 48 hours, you seemed to have won over the basketball captain’s heart.

-

You couldn’t hide that you were nervous. From the sounds of it, the gym was already pretty full. Even from outside the doors, you could hear the West High cheer section warming up. Gabriella gave you an encouraging smile to try and calm your nerves. 

“Remember, there is always plan B.” She said, reminding you of the message Troy had sent earlier. 

I can’t wait to see you in the stands tonight! Don’t forget you can alway sleeve if you need to. Gabriella is all set for an emergency escape. Look for #14. I’ll see you then!

You wished he was with you, but he belonged with his team. You could do this. Rob, Amber, the other cheerleaders; none of them mattered anymore. They could taunt you all they wanted, but you weren’t alone. Besides, watching the Wildcats whoop the Knights would be the perfect way to leave them all behind. 

Gabriella grabbed your hand and navigated through the crowd to get inside. The air was buzzing with excitement and you let the energy charge through you. When Amber’s eagle eyes spotted you, you just kept walking. 

After finding a good spot in the student section, you waited s the time ticked by. The gym was filling up, but you could still see Amber whispering to the other girls and pointing in your direction. You inhaled sharply and looked away, feeling the panic begin to resurface. 

“Look, there he is.” Gabriella was almost drowned out by the cheering crowd as the Wildcats ran onto the court. Sure enough, at the front of the pack of jerseys was #14. As the team warmed up, he scanned the crowd. He shot the ball into the hoop and gave you a big grin. 

Then entered the Knights. When you spotted Rob, you didn't feel those school-girl butterflies you used to get whenever you saw him. Now you were just angry. You were just a joke to him. Before you could look away, he saw you. With a smirk, he made a basket. 

Troy noticed the change in your expression and followed your gaze to the cocky player across the court. He felt a rush of defensive determination. He would make sure that the boy who broke your heart wouldn’t be making any points tonight. 

The game started off well for the Knights, with a basket and two foul throws. Their cheerleaders yelled and shook their pom-poms. You couldn’t help but feel like Amber’s sporty sneers were meant for you. 

Rob had stolen the ball and was sprinting towards the hoop. He threw it to one of his teammates, but a flash of red cut in between them. The crowd roared as Troy made it down the court for a basket. 

“Yeah Troy!” You shouted. Rob must have picked out your voice because he sent a furious glare in your direction. You just smiled. 

It was almost half time and the score was tied. Troy was guarding Rob as he dribbled down the court.  

“So Y/N’s your groupie too, huh Bolton?” He snapped. Troy tensed. 

“Just play the game, Mannington.”

“You know, I almost regretted rejecting her like that…” he smirked, “after that picture came out.” With Troy seething, he shoulder checked him out of the way and passed the ball for his teammate to score. The buzzer went off. 

“That marks halftime here folks; Wildcats 22, Knights 24.” 

East High fans breathed a collective sigh as the teams made their way into the locker rooms. 

“What’s wrong with Troy?” Gabriella wondered. You watched him storm angrily into the locker room, his whole body shaking furiously. Whatever Rob had said had set him off and a deep fear settled in your head. 

What did Rob tell him?

-

You bit your lip anxiously. If Troy made this free throw, they would tie the score again. 

“Come on Troy.” You uttered. 

He took a few deep breaths and quickly glanced up at you. He had to make this. He inhaled slowly and dedicated his focus to the hoop ahead of him. As he exhaled, he made the shot. As the ball swished in the net, the fans cheered loudly. 

Now it was the Knights’ ball and with less than a minute on the clock, it was a mad dash to stay out of overtime. Rob was going in for the shot. He planted his feet and tossed the ball. It seemed like the whole gym was holding its breath. 

The ball just bounced off of the rim and Troy snatched it out of the air, earning a chorus of cheers from the crowd. He passed the ball to Zeke who bounded to the basket and dunked the ball for the winning points. 

The buzzer was lost in the shouts from his team and from the ecstatic fans. Disappointed West High fans started to file out of the gym while East High students and families flooded the court. Troy was pulled into a crushing hug by his parents, his eyes searching the faces of people nearby. It took him awhile to find you, but he wasn’t the only one. 

“Rob told me that you found a new guy to creep on.” Amber laughed. “The captain of the basketball team? Really, Y/N, don’t you think that’s aiming a little high? You don’t really think that dreamboat Troy Bolton would be interested in someone like you?” Troy, hearing the conversation, stepped in.

“Hey are you ready to go?” He put a hand on your arm affectionately. Startled by his sudden appearance, you just nodded. “Great! I’m going to go shower and I’ll be back out soon.” He looked at Amber. “Can you believe it? This amazing girl transfers to East High and she agrees to go out with me. I must be crazy lucky or something, I know.” 

Baffled, Amber stomped off to find her posse. You just look at Troy, stunned. Was he just saying all that to get her to go away? As if he read your mind, he took your hand in his and brought it up to his lips. 

“I meant it.” He said and you got lost in his sincere eyes.”I am super lucky that you wound up at East High. That I found you.” A grin spread across his face. “And I am very excited for our date.”

“Oh, so we are officially calling it a date?” You teased. He laughed. 

“That’s what I was hoping for yeah.” You paused, your smile dropping a little. 

“Troy, what did Rob say to you just before half time?” You waited for him to say some rumor that had been spread from your school. Something awful that he would never forgive you for. Troy just smiled and shook his head. 

“Nothing important.” He thought for a moment before quickly kissing your cheek. When he stepped back, you were beaming. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” He started to push through the people around you. “And Troy?”

“Yeah?” His smile could have knocked you off your feet.

“I’m lucky I found you too.” 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[buck-buck-boose]

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, mild violence

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Big things are happening y'all

Chapter Twenty-One: The Super Soldier

March 19, 1943

Dawn crept up on Camp Lehigh in a thick haze of fog, the chirp of crickets its only whispered greeting. A late-winter frost bloomed across what little grass remained, the majority having been trampled underfoot by platoon after platoon of soldiers. Winter was quickly fading, giving way to a promising spring, but the bitter chill still latched onto those dewy mornings to remind Camp Lehigh’s inhabitants of the cold season they’d just nearly escaped.

Although sessions of training were not due to begin for hours, warm bodies were stirred from slumber in their barracks, meeting the cold, stale air of their poorly-insulated lodgings. The nurse’s barracks was lit by a lamp's dim glow, which splayed a flush of golden light across the room. Five women quietly and nimbly dressed, none of them wishing to break the silence that balanced among them; the early morning was sacred to them, as it seemed to be the only time apart from nighttime in which one could be alone with one’s thoughts.

Lottie deftly pinned her mousy curls beneath her white cap, caring little for their arrangement or appearance. Once upon a time, she’d tamed her curls with gentle finger waves and carefully pinned back strands, desperate to look the part of a fair woman like Ginger Rogers. It was a quieter, more joyful time in which she had the time and desire to put ample effort into her appearance. How simpler life in Brooklyn seemed, in retrospect. She only had to care for Steve or Bucky’s wounds, usually from some street brawl instigated by Steve and ended by Bucky; now she had soldiers to care for. Soldiers who would one day be covered in great, gaping wounds, some so deeply ingrained within their souls that neither the highest of morphine dosages nor the strongest suture could soothe them.

Lottie made swift work of fastening her blue cape around her neck, situating it so that the inner red lining wasn’t peeking out. In her peripherals, Mary smoothed a hand down her white skirt in a weak attempt at combatting its wrinkles while Betty gave her face a once-over in a battered compact that she always seemed to have on her person. Lottie was downright envious of her ever-red lip and sultry gaze, they seemed to turn the heads of all the young privates on base, which earned them more than a few reprimands. It was only a few weeks ago that Betty had explained her reasoning for putting such effort into her physical charm, even in the middle of the war.

“Nurses are supposed to provide comfort, care, right?” She sat across from Lottie at their table in the mess hall, smoke curling from a freshly lit cigarette resting between her fingers. She puffed on the cigarette for a moment and slowly exhaled the smoke, “Well these boys have been stuck in a war for over a year now and they probably haven’t seen a pretty face in a while. They’re probably missing their sweethearts, fiancées, you name it. Either way, they’ve gotta be awful lonely out there, so what’s the harm in being that girl with the pretty face that can make them a little less lonesome?”

Before anyone could raise a question, she continued, “I’m not talking affairs or anything illicit, sometimes they just need a pretty face and a nice voice to remind ‘em of home, to ease that loneliness.”

Betty’s little sermon drew Lottie’s thoughts to Bucky. He was a fiercely loyal man who would stop at nothing to protect or care for his closest companions. For his own sake, Lottie hoped that he’d found a sort of comradery with his fellow soldiers, a bond to strengthen him while they were separated by an ocean. He’d always had a habit of flashing her his trademark grin and ruffling her hair, all while declaring something silly like “You ‘n Steve are all I need, Little Lottie. It’s always gonna be the three of us, ‘til the end of the line.” Lottie could only hope that Bucky had found a bond like theirs with his fellow soldiers as a source of comfort and a respite from loneliness.

“Lottie dear, Dr. Erskine’s waiting for us.”

It seemed that the other nurses had filtered out of the barracks as Lottie was lost in thought. Only Gladys remained, waiting for her expectantly at the doorway. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, with her white cap nestled daintily atop her head, held in place with a handful of pins.

“Apologies, Gladys, I’m coming.” Gladys gave her a small smile as she caught up, nerves keeping her from forming her true toothy grin. All the nurses were nervous, to be truthful, as it was a significant day. Their serum was finally being put to use; they had found their first Super Soldier in Steve Rogers.

When Lottie had received the news of his selection to receive the serum, she’d nearly fainted with shock. Steve was a man with a heart of gold, she’d always known that, but it only served to heighten her self-doubt with regards to the serum’s efficacy. If the serum went awry as it did with Schmidt, Lottie wasn’t sure how she would be able to live with herself.

Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips’ debriefing as to why Steve had been chosen to become America’s first Super Soldier was a source of comfort, though. The two men had cornered the five nurses outside their barracks right as they were heading inside to turn in for the night.

The scientist had been the first to speak, “Ladies, we wanted to catch you as soon as possible. Colonel Phillips and I have decided upon our candidate for the serum. Private Steve Rogers will report to our facility in Brooklyn promptly at ten hundred hours tomorrow. We will need to depart camp at six hundred hours so we have abundant time to become accustomed to the equipment that will be in use. Mr. Stark will be joining us there.”

Lottie was sure there’d been spots in her vision, the announcement had nearly knocked all the wind out of her.

“I expect you ladies to uphold the same sense of secrecy and vigilance that you’ve had up until this point,” Colonel Phillips interjected, “This is only the beginning of our mission. We must continue to protect Project Rebirth, no matter how hopeless it may seem.” His voice was laced with bitterness, obviously doubtful of Steve’s abilities.

Nancy furrowed her brow, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Private Rogers the ninety-pound asthmatic? Why him and not someone more… reliable, like Private Hodge?”

Lottie bristled slightly, as she did not take kindly to critical remarks regarding her friends.

“Need I remind you that the serum is not focused only on the physical?” Dr. Erskine fixed Nancy with a level gaze, “He is not the most well-built soldier, I admit that. But as you have seen yourself, the serum is capable of incredible cellular change that will only strengthen him. It will also amplify the qualities that he already has inside of himself. He has proven himself to be a good soldier and a worthy recipient of the serum.” Lottie glanced at Colonel Phillips, whose face was twisted into an awkward grimace, though he did not comment.

“During training today, he exhibited qualities of strength and humility that I have yet to see in any other soldiers thus far. Would Private Hodge throw himself over a grenade to protect his fellow soldiers? He showed me today that he would not, but Private Rogers would.”

Colonel Phillips muttered something along the lines of, “Still skinny,” though the bitterness seemed to fade. All of the nurses came to accept the news, trading in their expressions of shock and concern for ones of uncertainty and anxiety. It seemed that reality had hit for all five of the nurses at once; their work had finally come to fruition, making the road ahead even more daunting than before.

There was little conversation in the nurse’s compartment on the train to Brooklyn. There were moments of brief chatter among the women, but they were all too lost in their thoughts to carry on a proper conversation. Lottie shifted in her seat every few minutes, the poorly-cushioned seat providing little comfort during the duration of the train ride. Beside her, Gladys flicked through a stack of paper, which she’d pulled out of a manila folder that had been stamped with the word “Confidential” in large red letters. Ever the levelheaded academic of the group, she’d decided to look over their notes on the serum and its activation procedure one last time.

Across from her, Mary and Nancy were busying themselves with embroidery, an activity that a few of the nurses had picked up to improve their abilities with stitching. Lottie pictured a frayed handkerchief in her mind’s eye, a tattered old thing covered in clumsy pink flowers with a “JBB” monogram stitched carefully onto its corner. She wondered if Bucky had taken it with him overseas. He’d always kept it on his person back in Brooklyn, “Never know when a dame’s gonna go all misty eyed on me,” he’d say, humor in his eyes. There wouldn’t be many women for him to comfort overseas, but maybe he’d need it for his tears someday.

Betty sat to the right of Gladys, scanning the pages of a battered copy of Gone With the Wind. She’d never struck Lottie as a bookworm, but more often than not, she was the last of the women to fall asleep at night, usually engrossed in a novel for an hour or two past lights-out.

Two hours passed uneventfully; its monotony was only interrupted by the transferring from one train to another. Lottie’s heart seemed to pound in her ears as they approached Brooklyn, the tall buildings in her window becoming more and more familiar to her. Her heart swelled at the sight of it; she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the city until she returned after all that time. Of course, she’d been gone from the city for longer while she was in nursing school, but it tugged at her heartstrings even more than before because a damn war was what kept her from her beloved borough.

It wasn’t long before the train had arrived, initiating a flurry of movement out of the train car and toward a car that sat at the curb, waiting for them. All five nurses clambered inside, with Dr. Erskine following behind in his car. The car ride was a short one, though Lottie took the time to observe her surroundings; she wanted so desperately to drink in the familiar alleys and side streets before she had to return to Camp Lehigh, to war.

Their car stopped abruptly in front of a cozy antique shop; one she’d never paid much attention to. Dr. Erskine’s car had arrived just a few moments before theirs, so they followed him inside. Once inside, they were faced with an aged woman, who greeted them with a casual question, though her eyes betrayed a deeper glimmer of suspicion, “Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?”

Dr. Erskine responded promptly, “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

They were quickly led through a false bookcase, which hid a vast laboratory full of all that was needed to complete the transformation that would occur in a few hours. There were dozens of monitors and gauges, all for measuring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Rays that were intended to activate the serum within his cells. In the center of it all, there was a bed on which Steve would lie, and when injected with the serum, the bed would be surrounded by a chamber while the Vita-Rays were projected into him.

Lottie and her peers stood at the top of the stairs, taking it all in, while Dr. Erskine descended the steps toward a control panel. He glanced back at them briefly, “Shall we all get accustomed to this now, ladies?”

Over the past few hours, Lottie had tired herself by calibrating various instruments, readying the equipment, and arranging several vials of serum within the transformation chamber. Throughout that time, doctors, higher-ranking soldiers, and members of the SSR slowly filtered into the room, some even gathering in the observation booth that looked down on them from above. She knew that Steve was due to arrive with Agent Carter at any moment. Frankly, she was terrified— mortified, even.

Howard Stark flitted about the laboratory, checking up on the various devices that would be used throughout the process. The Vita-Ray chamber was his brainchild, so a majority of his morning was spent double and triple-checking its minute parts and its stability.

At precisely 10 o’clock in the morning, Agent Carter and Steve stepped into the laboratory, two metal doors held open by guards for their entrance. Silence quickly descended upon the scientists and personnel who had been moving about the room in a sort of organized chaos. Lottie knew that most of them were looking at Steve in confusion, and in some cases dismay, but she made sure to send her best friend a reassuring smile. Even if the bullheaded scientists in the room were doubtful of his abilities, Lottie was with him. She believed in him. Her only doubts were in her abilities.

The staff quickly returned to their business as Agent Carter and Steve descended the steps and approached the center of the laboratory to meet with Dr. Erskine. They shared a brief greeting before Steve was ordered to remove his hat, tie, and shirt; Mary waited beside him with a kind smile, accepting his shed clothing. Agent Carter stood a few feet behind Steve, respectfully averting her gaze as he partially disrobed. Lottie took a special interest in their interactions, examining the way in which she treated Steve. She didn’t ignore or belittle him as some women did, she treated him with more dignity and respect. For that, Lottie was grateful.

Lottie busied herself with sterilizing several glass syringes as she impatiently awaited the initiation of the transformation. She could just barely make out a conversation that Dr. Erskine and Steve had shared about schnapps, but before she could quite figure out what was said, the scientist turned to the inventor beside him, “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”

“Levels at one hundred percent. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we’ll ever be.” Mr. Stark stood in front of the chamber where Steve now lay, projecting an air of confidence despite an uncomfortable look in his eye.

Agent Carter was dismissed to the booth to join Colonel Phillips, who was seated with several other seemingly important men that Lottie didn’t care to know. Dr. Erskine addressed the crowd in the booth using a microphone, explaining the purpose of Project Rebirth. Meanwhile, Lottie and her fellow nurses prepared the Vita-Ray chamber; she’d just situated the paddles on his chest when his gaze met hers. They’d been in a similar position so many times before. There were countless times over the past decade when she and Bucky had shown up at his apartment, soup and medicine in hand, to make him feel better during his latest bout of sickness. Bucky would always sit on one side of the bed, leaning on the mattress as he tried to distract Steve with idle conversation. She always kept vigil on the opposite side of the bed from Bucky, pulling Steve’s sheets up to his chin no matter how much he complained of the heat. She would never have to do that again, Lottie realized, as the serum would (hopefully) strengthen his immune system to the point that it would nearly be impossible to get sick. He wouldn’t need her or Bucky to look after him anymore. It pained her only slightly; she was overjoyed that he would be strengthened and healed by the serum, but it felt like the end of an era for her. She wasn’t truly needed anymore.

When the scientist’s speech to the booth had concluded, Lottie disinfected Steve’s shoulder and injected a syringe of penicillin into it; beforehand, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, warning him for the pain of the jab. She felt him sigh in relief, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Lottie bit back a giggle while Dr. Erskine looked down at Steve with a furrowed brow, “That was penicillin.” The scientist gave her a look and without missing a beat, began the countdown.

Five

The doctors and scientists that were scattered around the laboratory rushed to their control panels, monitoring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Ray levels that would soon be harnessed for the serum’s activation.

Four

Those that were observing from the booth looked at the scene below with bated breath; they either anticipated either a predictable failure or an unlikely success.

Three

The five nurses gathered around the Vita-Ray chamber, monitoring the serum infusion. Two mechanical arms latched onto Steve’s biceps and embedded several syringes deep into his muscle.

Two

Dr. Erskine placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Lottie met Steve’s gaze once more, she was that little girl at his bedside, sitting her vigil for one last time.

One

A switch was flipped and several syringes of the serum were injected into Steve’s system. Lottie could already see the strain it was putting on his body, his face contorted and he grunted in pain as he felt the serum begin its work in his body.

When given his signal, Mr. Stark flipped a lever to encase Steve in the Vita-Ray chamber, which maneuvered Steve into a vertical position before he was completely locked into the machine. Dr. Erskine knocked on the metal, “Steven? Can you hear me?”

A muffled response came from within the metal, “It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Lottie snorted, only Steve would make a terrible joke at a time like that.

The scientist faced Mr. Stark, “We will proceed.” Below him, Mr. Stark slowly turned a dial and donned a pair of goggles. Lottie and her peers followed suit, as the luminosity of the Vita-Rays would cause vision damage if their eyes were left uncovered.

Lottie worried her lip as Mr. Stark slowly increased the radiation levels by turning a wheel that was mounted on the control panel. Next to him, a doctor carefully monitored Steve’s vitals; he reported that they were all normal, which calmed Lottie a tad.

At around the seventy percent mark, cries began to ring out from within the Vita-Ray chamber. It was as if screams were being torn from Steve’s throat, they were so hoarse and raw. Dr. Erskine rushed to the chamber while Peggy quickly descended from the booth, urging the personnel to cease the radiation. Lottie stood in shock, stuck in an internal impasse. She worried deeply for Steve’s safety, she always had and always would. Simultaneously, she needed to trust in the years’ worth of work she’d put into Project Rebirth. She and her fellow nurses had worked day after day, slaving over the Super Soldier Serum and Vita-Ray theories to develop the perfect transformation method. If she couldn’t trust her abilities and research, what could she trust?

But when Steve’s cries seemed to echo throughout the laboratory, she knew that his safety superseded whatever pride she had in her research. Lottie had just opened her mouth to call for an end to it when Steve insisted from within the Vita-Ray chamber, “Don’t! I can do this!”

A burst of warmth bloomed in Lottie’s chest; Steve trusted their work and he was fighting to see it through. Mr. Stark continued to raise the radiation levels until they had reached one hundred percent. The staff and observers from the booth could only look on in shock and wonder as the light from within the chamber continued to glow brighter and it began to give off a steady humming noise.

Without warning, sparks began to spray out from the control panels as a result of the copious amounts of electricity being funneled into the transformation. Lottie cried out, ducking down with Mary to avoid the sparks that showered down on them from overhead. Across from them, Nancy, Gladys, and Betty assumed similar positions, clutching their white caps as they attempted to shield themselves from the onslaught.

As quickly as it started, the sparks ceased, as did the humming of the Vita-Ray chamber. The laboratory was far dimmer than it was earlier, with the light from the radiation gone, and nearly half the bulbs in the laboratory having been blown out.

All eyes were on the Vita-Ray chamber as they all awaited the final result of Project Rebirth. The chamber hissed open and released a gust of air, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve.

Lottie could barely believe it, not only was he exhausted-looking, but it seemed as if he’d gained nearly 8 inches of height and a few dozen pounds of muscle. Gone was that scrawny blond boy who’d gotten lost in crowds far too easily, here was a man— a Super Soldier —who was perfectly enhanced on a cellular level.

The SSR agents and politicians who were previously gathered in the booth rushed to meet with Steve, barely able to contain their excitement. They clambered over each other, all of them desperate to be the first one to speak with America’s first Super Soldier.

In all the chaos, Betty had sidled up to her, her jaw nearly touching the floor, “Hot damn, Lottie Green. Hot damn.” She ogled at Steve as she took in his new physique. Lottie rolled her eyes, “Just because he’s got more muscle doesn’t mean he’ll be able to talk to you any better. Or that he won’t step on your toes if you get him to dance.”

Steve stood in the middle of a crowd of men, though Agent Carter stood in front of him, attempting to look at anything but his chest.

“I think you might want this, Stevie,” Lottie moved in to stand beside Agent Carter and offered him a shirt, which he accepted gratefully. He smiled down at her gratefully, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, Lottie.”

How odd it was to be looking up at him. It was certainly something that Lottie wasn’t used to, she’d gotten quite used to looking down at him, in fact. By age sixteen, she’d gained about two inches on him, and though he was loath to admit it, she knew it pained him to be the shortest of the three of them. Luckily for him, his new height delegated her as the most diminutive of the Brooklyn trio by far.

Amid the jubilation following Project Rebirth’s success, grave mistakes were made. Gladys had left her manila folder of notes— all the notes that the nurses had ever taken during their research —on one of the control panels closest to the stairway, just close enough to the exit to be snatched up by a discreet hand. An extra vial of Super Soldier serum sat in its case, at the ready for its eventual use; it stood unguarded and unwatched.

The once-unassuming Fred Clemson hung back from the crowd, a lighter in hand. Dr. Erskine was the first to notice his position apart from everyone else; the scientist opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could form a sentence, Clemson had flicked open the lighter and triggered an explosion from the observation booth.

Screams rang out from the middle of the laboratory as glass rained down on them. Sparks even worse than before began assaulting them and left stinging burns in their wake. Lottie grunted as she felt minuscule shards of glass tear at and become embedded in her skin; it would surely be a pain to treat such small cuts and remove the pieces of glass later on. It was shocking, really, how quickly the mood of the room had shifted. Just moments before, she’d been looking at Steve in awe, fully processing all that the serum had accomplished. Her sentiments of excitement and pride quickly evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of panic and dread.

The force of the explosion had thrown Lottie and some of the other nurses to the ground, so she scrambled to her feet in an attempt to take action against the man. It was all in vain, for as soon as she regained her footing, all she saw was the bespectacled man diving through the crowd to grab the last vial of Super Soldier serum and the thick manila envelope that Gladys had brought with her. Lottie’s stomach dropped in terror; she opened her mouth to cry out for backup, but Dr. Erskine was one step ahead of her. He commanded the man to stop, but the only response he received was several gunshots in the chest.

Deep red stains formed across the front of his shirt and seeped into his lab coat, his vibrant blood was a sickening contrast to the crisp white color of his lab coat. The scientist fell to the ground, his legs sprawled out before him and his arms at his side. Lottie knew that there was no hope for him— there were no exit wounds and she was more than certain that at least one of his lungs had been punctured. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Lottie didn’t need to perform an examination to know that the wounds would be fatal. There was no time for an examination anyway, gunshots continued to ring out across the laboratory, and Agent Carter was in hot pursuit of the offender.

Mary looked at Lottie for some sort of reassurance of direction, her mouth agape, “Lottie, he's— he’s gonna die if we don’t do somethin’. C’mon, we’ve gotta help him.” Her voice came out in a whimper and her hands shook as she searched the floor for any fallen bandages. She took Mary’s trembling hands into her clammy ones, “Mary, look at his breathing. You know there’s nothing we can do for him now.”

She knew it was a heartbreaking thing to say, but Mary was a brilliant nurse; she already knew all the signs of a punctured lung. Lottie knew that she was having a hard time processing the information due to the shock that was no doubt obscuring her senses and rational thought. What Mary needed was a calm voice to guide her back from the brink of hysteria, a friend to bring her back to reality.

The nurses learned a jarring lesson about reality’s harsh nature that day; they learned of its cycle of gains and losses, successes and failures. The five nurses of Project Rebirth had achieved all that they’d been dreaming of for more than a year, they’d proven themselves to be reliable and even stellar researchers in their field. It had all been ripped away from them in a matter of moments, with the loss of their notes and serum, as well as the brutal death of Dr. Erskine. All they could do was clutch each other helplessly as they watched Steve follow the man in hot pursuit— the man who had stolen everything from them. Lottie, Mary, Betty, Nancy, and Gladys had certainly entered a new era in their careers as nurses, an era of uncertainty. With nothing left from Project Rebirth besides the Super Soldier himself, their futures were left in limbo until the Strategic Scientific Reserve could figure out what to do with them next.

[a-cupof-jo]

Set Up My Heart Pt. 9

PT.8 - PT.9 - PT. 10

College volleyball player!Johnny Suh x reader

Rivals-to-lovers

Fluff and angst

Synopsis: Ever since that fateful day Sophomore year of high school, Johnny Suh had been an insufferable thorn in your side. Once you made it to college you thought the two of you would never have to see each other again. That is, until a sudden school transfer has the entire university buzzing.

Warnings!!!: Mentioned divorce and adult topics. Some strong language. Please don’t read if any of these make you uncomfortable or may be detrimental to you.

~~

We’ve been seeing Y/n’s story in college, but how did she and Johnny become so combative with each other? Will Johnny’s high school story tell all?

Second half to Johnny’s side of the story.

~~

“Nervous?” Johnny asked as he leaned over the wall separating the court from the bleachers.

Y/n grunted as she continued warming up, “Why would I be nervous?” A ball flew her direction as the opposite team started on warm up drills. She swatted it back toward the girl who chased after it. “I’ve been to a state championship before."

Johnny shrugged, "But with a completely different team, with a completely different record. Plus, this time you’re going against said team."

Y/n set the ball to herself as she mulled over Johnny’s words. Johnny couldn’t help but watch her. If they asked him, she was the strongest player on the team. A true all team player. It wouldn’t matter where they placed her, Y/n would thrive in any position, "I don’t think that’s going to be a downfall for us. If anything, that makes me more confident.”

“Oh,” Johnny raised an eyebrow.

Y/n grinned, “I may have moved schools, but they didn’t change teams.” She gave him a slight wave as her coach called everyone in. He sighed as she ran away. He had full confidence in the team, but something didn’t sit right with him. Why were you so confident? Did you know something about RVHS that maybe no one else did?

Johnny watched as the RVHS team sent looks to his school’s team. More importantly, he noticed that the glances landed on Y/n a majority of the time.

“It’s going to be an interesting match,” Kun slid into the seat next to him. “RVHS has been undefeated for the past 3 years.”

“They are a foundationally strong team,” Johnny nods as he watches the teams serving balls across the net. “But they don’t take risks. They only play well because the opposing team plays well.”

“Meaning,” Kun handed a camera over to Johnny.

“Meaning, that when they come across a team that doesn’t always play to perfection,” he took a picture of the net trying to focus the camera correctly. “They can’t make strong plays, which then leads them to not being able to convert points."

"So,” Kun hesitated. He tapped his pen against the notebook sitting in his lap as he watched the court. “We actually have a chance at winning.” Johnny nodded his camera clicking. “All because we play less fundamentally?"

"Not just because of that,” Johnny flipped through the pictures he’d taken. “but also because we are able to take fundamentals and convert them into scrappy plays."

"What? How?” Kun furrowed his eyes at Johnny. Johnny set his camera on Kun’s lap shrugging before standing and stating he was going to the bathroom. Kun looked down to see a picture of Y/n shining up at him. She smiled at the camera through the net. He grabbed the piece of paper sitting on the bench next to him. If they were going to win, then everyone was going to want to know about the prodigy that is, Y/n.

~~

He held his breath as the ball came down the side of the net. The setter lunged for it getting it in the air so the libero could set it to the outside hitter. Johnny felt a little disgruntled. The play was messy, but in a way that could have worked to the team’s much needed advantage. Had they set it up for Y/n or the libero to kill there is a higher chance that they would have won the point. Instead, the volley continued.

The fourth set of the match had Johnny on edge. He could see the tension stirring through both teams. RVHD had won the second and third set, but SJHS had won the first and now had a two point lead and was about to take the fourth. Johnny had watched the entire time trying to write down and follow plays as well as take some shots. RVHS was playing just how he thought they would. With precision and not taking unnecessary risks. It seems that SJHS was following their lead, and it wasn’t working greatly for their benefit. A cheer went up from his bench as SJHS scored the final point. Johnny cheered as he watched the score change and teams switch courts. Whoever won this set was going to be named state champions.

Johnny glanced over at Kun staring at the court, “It’s going to be a miracle if we pull this off.” He scratched a note onto the paper sitting in his lap.

“There’s still a chance,” Johnny noted. “If we can take this set then we win.”

“What are the chances we take this set?”

He watched as the team captains were called back to the refs stand. The clock read 3 minutes before the next set. “If we start playing like we should then,” Johnny plopped down in his seat, “If we were playing to our ability and strengths, we would actually have a chance of winning. It doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.” He watched as the teams settled on their respective sides of the court. Johnny trailed off and the stands went quiet as RVHS’s setter served the ball. “They are really going to have to find something deep down inside of them, fast. Skills alone are not going to allow them to win.” He scoffed as RVHS put a second point on the board.

Kun shrugged his eyes not glancing away from the court, “It’s hard to believe that we could come so far after all the years of never even making it to the final tournament.” He tapped his fingers on the bench watching as SJHS scored a point and was finally moving up on the scoreboard.

Johnny narrowed his eyes, “Are you feeling okay?” He tilted his head trying to get a clear view of Kun’s face.

“Yeah, why,” Kun jolted as Johnny came into his line of view.

Johnny shrugged, “You just seem a little jittery. Is the game that exciting to you?” Johnny glanced at the court noticing that SJHS had caught up to RVHS at 5 points for each team.

Kun crossed his arms across his chest, “I’m just trying to figure out how we got this far. Just because we got Y/n L/n? She is a great player, but a team is only as strong as their weakest player. So it doesn’t make sense. Plus, nobody even knows why she transferred here.”

Johnny frowned at him, “At this point, I don’t think that matters right now.” He couldn’t help the way his words came out harsh and short, “Y/n has obviously become a big part of the team and pretty much everyone at school likes her.”

“I didn’t say that she wasn’t,” Kun hissed. “I’m just saying it’s weird.” He rolled his eyes, “Let’s just watch the game.”

Johnny let out an exasperated sigh and tried to focus on the game. The teams were in a 30 second timeout and Johnny could see the heated discussion coming from SJHS’s bench. Y/n had her hands on her hips listening as the coach was waving his clipboard around. The ref blew the whistle as the time out ended and the teams were back on the court. Johnny narrowed his eyes as he watched Y/n say something to the setter. The setter looked confused and apprehensive, but nodded along to whatever she said. Johnny felt himself getting antsy as the ball was served to the other side of the net. With a score of 10 to 11, there was desperation to make up those points and win this set.

He held his breath as the opposing teams setter dove for the ball but missed it as it hit the outside line. SJHS only needed 5 more points to go to take the set and win the state championships. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t surprised that the next 2 points came easy. RVHS had seemed to give up. They were not moving as fast and they hesitated before making an attack. Another point was scored off a deep float server, and excitement rose in his chest, they were going to win this set, they were going to win the State Championship.

The ball flew over the net and the opposing team finally made an attack. Y/n dived for the ball and watched as it shanked away from the setter. Johnny pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as the outside hitter set the ball up to the center  of the front row. The outside and opposite attackers jumped at the net as the setter hit the ball over the net. The other team scrambled as it shot towards them, landing at the corner before bouncing out of the court. Johnny was on his feet as he listened to the ref announce game point. He watched as the setter moved to serve the next ball. It flew over the net with precision, but instead of landing on the floor or shanking off an arm. RVHS’s libero delivered the served ball directly to their setter. The middle hitter was in the air before the ball left the setter’s hands and they sent the ball over the net, trying to convert the point.

SJHS’s opposite hitter dove for the ball as it clipped the tips of the blockers fingers. “It’s up. Go ten!” Y/n backed up the court as the setter drove the ball to the middle of the court.

Johnny’s breath caught as she jumped through the air. The ball connected with her palm before shooting back across the net. The team dove for the ball putting it up in the air before the SJHS defense sent it down just out of reach of RVHS’s front row.

Johnny jumped up with a cheer as the ref called the point and the teams dispersed. He watched as the teams shook hands before turning to cheer or slouch back to their locker rooms. He grabbed his camera snapping pictures of the excited team. His lens landed on Y/n as a teammate scooped her up in a hug. He could help but grin at the sight as his camera clicked. Her eyes looked up and again her gaze caught his through the lens. Johnny snapped another picture before pulling the camera down and sending her a thumbs up. She smiled at him before jerking her back head towards the locker room. She gave a motion that said 15 minutes and he nodded in agreement.

“Well this was unexpected,” He couldn’t stop smiling as he turned to where Kun was sitting. He froze as he noticed Kun, along with all of his stuff, was gone. “Kun?” He glanced around the stands not seeing the shorter boy anywhere. Gathering his things he rushed out of the gym and down the hall. He wandered the halls for 5 minutes before moving back towards the locker rooms.

Voices met his ears as he turned the corner to the back hallway. “Her parents were going through a nasty divorce. She was talking to lawyers every week, sometimes multiple times a week. Her mother was the one making all the money. Her dad was laid off from his job and spent all her mom made on alcohol and porn.” Johnny’s eyes widened as he saw Kun standing across from a shorter girl. Her hands dropped to rest on her hips the letters RVHS flashed down the dim hall. “Her mom got custody and the two of them moved here to get away from her dad.”

Kun nodded as he scribbled down words on his pad of paper, “That’s it? What about Y/n’s volleyball career? Did any of this affect the season last year.” Johnny leaned closer as Kun’s voice dropped off.

“None that I know of. Y/n was always a private person. She never spoke to us about her home life. I don’t even think she had very close friends,” the girl sighed obviously done with the conversation. “It doesn’t really matter. Ask her about it if you’re so curious. Make sure you don’t mention my name.”

“Of course,” Kun closed the notepad. “Thanks for your time.” she gave him a nod before turning into a room behind her. Kun sighed and walked down the hall towards Johnny. “Oh,” he stopped as he came face-to-face with Johnny. “Hey, going to get some comments from the team?”

“Yup,” Johnny fiddled with his camera. “It should only take a few minutes.” Kun nodded before stepping around him.

“Great try to get your articles to me by Monday evening so we can release them on Wednesday.” Kun called from his place down the hall.

Johnny sat outside the room. He could hear laughter and excitement from inside the room. He heard the door click before it was pulled open and laughter spilled into the hall. “I thought you said 15 minutes?” He teased as he stood from the bench watching as Y/n slipped out of the room. He glanced down at his watch, “It’s been 17 minutes.”

“I’m sorry that you can’t be patient,” she grinned at him as she combed a hand through her hair.

Johnny smiled back as he pulled out his small pad of paper, “I’m on a tight schedule. You see, I have to interview this girl that just led her team to their first state championship in over 5 years. I don’t see why it’s so important but.”

“Get on with it, Suh,” you give him a light shove before sitting on the bench he had just stood from. “What do you need to pick my brain about?”

“You were great out there,” he threw her a smile before clicking his pen and resting the tip on the paper. “I just need some remarks on the game.”

Y/n leaned back against the wall, her head tipped sideways to watch him write, “I’m really proud of the team first of all. We worked really hard this year to make it to the state championships. I am so lucky to know all of them and to be able to grow with them. Every team is unique and has their own stories and personalities. I am blessed to have such an open and welcoming community with these girls. Initially we did not fit together very well. Coming from a team that is very fundamentally based to a team that really does play to have fun was such a big change. I didn’t enjoy it at first, it was all so new, but the team really helped me out!”

Johnny nodded along as he tried to jot down her words as she spoke them, “Great! And then do you have anything to say about the tournament or the game?”

“I really loved playing all these great teams. They all worked so hard and played so well. I look forward to competing against them again.” She smiled at Johnny as his hair flopped in his eyes. Johnny would have never thought that having to write for the school paper sport section would make you two closer. Both had been skeptical when Johnny started to follow the team around to games, but the two found that it worked to their favor as they started to work on Chemistry together and eventually other classes. Johnny helped Y/n with english, while Y/n carried his geometry grade. The two fell into a rhythm outside of school, but in school, peers would think the two hated each other. “My dad tried to call again.” Her voice changed tones. It went from happy to timid. “He left a message saying that he wanted to see me and congratulate me on the state championship.”

Johnny closed his notepad, “Would you like some advice? Do you need me to talk to him?”

She shook her head, “Just sit here until the team comes out.” Johnny nodded leaning back to rest beside her.

~~

“ With a Successful Season, Volleyball Prodigy Turns Out to be a Fraud” by Qian Kun and Johnny Suh

Johnny had to reread the sentence over and over again. “What the hell is this.” He turned sharply to the editor sitting at the large table sitting at the front of the computer lab. “I never allowed you to put my name on this.”

Kun glanced up to peer at Johnny’s screen, “Oh we were running out of room on the sports page. Between your article on the volleyball tournament, Wooyoung’s on the soccer tournament, and my own summarizing the two seasons we had to condense. So we took bits and pieces from each article and made four articles. Two on the tournaments and two on the season summary. So some of your articles replaced mine.”

“But why didn’t you tell me,” Johnny pleaded with him. “And how did you even come to this conclusion. Absolutely nothing I said ever pointed to that and I didn’t give you permission!” Johnny could feel his face heating up as spoke to Kun’s uncaring figure.

Kun glanced at him through the glasses perched on his nose, “Johnny, this story is what the paper needs. It’ll get people reading and we can get permission to do the paper again next year. I thought you of all people would want this.” He sighed as he shuffled a couple papers next to the computer screen, “Besides the teacher approved it. If they thought that it wasn’t okay they would have said something.”

“Kun,” Johnny threw his hands up. “We both know that they don’t care about the student body. They are just trying to look out for themselves. If this comes back to bite us, you know they will throw us under the bus.”

Kun didn’t look up at him, “That’s not going to happen.”

“We are spreading false reports.”

“No, we are telling people the truth.”

“About someone’s private, personal life. We can’t do that, Kun. She never agreed to sharing that information.

“She did,” Kun gave Johnny a once over. “She shouldn’t have told a reporter her secrets if she didn’t want them told. It’s our job to find the skeletons hiding in people’s closets.”

“I can’t believe you,” Johnny spun as he heard the small voice. Y/n stood in the doorway to the lab her phone clutched to her chest. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, “You were using me for some shitty story in a HS paper.” Her face darkened as she stormed into the room, “I trusted you. I told you things that no one else in this school knew, and you turned and blabbed it for the entire school to see.”

“Y/n I never-”

“Save it,” she held a hand up. “You’ve said your piece. You’ve said what you think loud and clear. You twisted my words. Made me sound like a stuck up bitch. ‘Y/n spoke briefly on the season stating, “Every team is unique and has their own stories and personalities. Initially we did not fit together very well. Coming from a team that is very fundamentally based to a team that really plays to have fun was such a big change. I didn’t enjoy it.” Y/n showed contempt for her teammates and school as a result of her parents recent splitting and her forced departure from RVHS.’ Believe me I get the message.” A tear slipped down her cheek, “I hope your happy and you get whatever fucking promtion this article was for.” Johnny reached for her arm as she pulled away from him. “Don’t you dare.” She sent a glare at him before turning out of the room and storming down the hall.

Sadness and anger coursed through Johnny as he turned to Kun, “Take my name off of that article, now.” Kun rolled his eyes as he watched Johnny race out of the room after Y/n.

Jonny had almost caught up to her when a group of his teammates stopped him. They had agreed to a friendly tournament against the girls volleyball team. They said that the competition would be fun and that it would boost student morale. Johnny didn’t feel convinced and he tried to listen as they told him about other events they were trying to set up. He glanced around trying to find Y/n, but she had disappeared and so did his chance to make things right.

~~

The cafeteria was busy the next week as the school buzzed with gossip, drama, and the upcoming student council events. Johnny was trying to weave his way through crowds of students as he searched for the table his friends were sitting at. As he caught sight of them he felt a body run into his as his tray flew up landing square in his chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Johnny looked up into the eyes he had been wanting to see all week. Y/n stood in front of him, hands raised with napkins sitting in them. Her eyes hardened as she realized who she ran into. “Here,” she shoved the napkins into his hand before spinning on her heel and walking away.

Johnny followed after her, “Wait, Y/n, can you let me explain.”

“Explain what, Johnny?” She turned to him, fire in her eyes, “Why you used my story for your personal gain? Why you let me think that you actually enjoyed being around me? Why everything I told you in confidentiality was just stewing for the enjoyment of our peers? Why you let me start to like you?” Johnny gaped at her as she yelled at him. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I don’t want to hear an explanation from you. Any respect I had for you, is gone.”

Johnny felt anger course through him as she spewed words at him. She never let him speak. She thought she knew what was going on, but she didn’t. He did not work so hard to get Kun to let him release a new article refuting the previous statements, for her to yell at him and doubt his actions towards her. “You’re right. You won’t listen so I won’t talk. We’ll just forget all about everything that happened before. You are a stranger to me.” His voice was cold and his words clipped.

“Perfect,” he could see her walls grow higher and higher. She turned away from him and stepped up to her own table. “Just so you know,” she turned to look at the food staining his shirt. “Food isn’t a good look for you.” Johnny scowled as she rolled her eyes and turned to her table of friends. He brushed the food off his chest before turning away from the table, turning away from Y/n. If she didn’t want to listen to him, he was done trying to make her. His heart gave a tug as he glanced back and she stared back at him, but instead of her face falling into a small smile it tightened into a familiar glare.  

~~

@beyond-gethsemane, @lanadreamie, @michplusb @qianinterprises @stayctday @jaxminskale @infnteen @nanascupid

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*Reposted from previous blog*