#i usually instinctively stop because one of the first times it happened. it was bus turning right in front of me

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

Delicate, Chapter Six: You’re On Your Own, Kid

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CW: SA, it’s not described but it has happened. skip from “to be fair” until “quiet weeping” if you’re not comfortable. a bit heavier than usual, but i tried to keep it as light as possible. next ones will be more fun, dw <3

ALECTO @ alectocarrow

Narcissa Black and her unknown ‘friend’ spotted at the party that Lily Evans (the Black Studios’ n1 enemy) also attended…We knew you didn’t like your parents, Narcissa, no need to drag your groupie into this!

narcissa @ thenarcissablack

alecto, you know the addy. pull up anytime and say that shit to my face. i won’t not fuck you the fuck up. period.

ALECTO @ alectocarrow

Is this a threat? Are you threatening me? I’m talking to my lawyer.

narcissa @thenarcissablack

tell ‘em it’s a promise not a threat.

marlsboro @ mckinnon

what if i said narcissa black got that dawg in her?

Euphemia Potter @ euphemiapotter

Hello! I wanted to thank everyone who came to our small gathering last Saturday, hope you all had a good time! 😊 And fun fact! My husband Fleamont is a really good lawyer! ❤️

“So…they didn’t fuck?”

“Nope.”

“They didn’t even kiss?”

“None of that.”

“And she’s like that?”

Amelia pointed to Narcissa, who was busy reorganising the twins’ office, moving the small prizes, photo frames and certifications of an inch from their original positions in a joyous frenzy. Edgar looked just as incredulous (and worried) as his sister.

“I can hear you!” Narcissa said, tiptoe on a chair trying to reach a particularly high shelf. “Your office could use some colour, guys. I could buy you some flowers! Oh and Mel, I want to add another song to the set list for Friday.”

“It’s a twenty minute performance, you can’t sing twenty two songs!” Amelia protested, arms wide in exasperation.

“But it’s really important to me,” Narcissa whined, batting her eyelashes. “It’s, like, vital. Esssential. Pretty pretty pretty please?”

“It doesn’t work with me, Cissa, you know it.”

“Eddie?”

“Nope, we’re not doing that.” Edgar got up from his chair with his hands raised, and Mary watched him cross the room decidedly, pick Narcissa up from her legs and throw her over his shoulder like she was a bag of potatoes. A screaming, kicking bag of potatoes.

“He’s like the Big Friendly Giant.” Mary whispered.

“I feel violated.” Narcissa snarled once she was delicately deposited on the couch.

Edgar ignored her, sitting back in his chair.

“What happened at the party, Cissa?” he asked, calm as ever.

Narcissa smirked, and told them she had talked to Alice and about their promise (although it was more like a threat, but Mary wasn’t going to contradict her), but despite the passionate retelling, Amelia was unimpressed.

“Pick five songs. The show is in three days and we can’t change everything last minute because your crush stopped ignoring you.”

“She’s not my crush-“

“And Mary,” intervened Edgar, “The album is ready to drop. If you want, you can start writing that song with Lily now.”

Those words hit Mary like a bus.

“Yeah, about that…” she began, and all three turned to her. She felt her stomach turn to stone.

“I think we have a problem. I’ve been really focused on the album, so I haven’t written anything new in…four years? Probably?” she admitted, ashamed.

Mary was aware it was a problem: she had signed a contract, so the company expected her to make music. In her defence, lately she had been busy with the album and looking for a label, and she hadn’t really needed to write anything new in the past months, but still…Wasn’t she, as an artist, supposed to feel the need to write? Music was supposed to be an innate instinct, not a product bound by deadlines, yet Mary had lost the natural need to create songs. The notes sounded wrong, the words on paper were smudges of feelings Mary couldn’t extricate. A big skein of too much, a bunch of knots she couldn’t unravel.

Amelia and Edgar were quiet, the first impassive, the second worried, but Narcissa came to her rescue.

“It’s fine, Mary,” she shrugged, like it was no big deal, “Writer’s block is a bitch. If anything, working with Lily will help you.”

“Yeah,” agreed Amelia, though she didn’t seem too convinced. “It’s not a problem, it’s still early. We’ll drop the album, and you’ll have a lot of time to…overcome this block.”

“Maybe you’ve been overworking yourself,” offered Edgar, “You could try resting a bit, you deserve it. It may help your…creative juices flowing.”

“Don’t say creative juices, Ed, it’s disgusting,” scoffed Narcissa, but she threw Mary a fleeting glance.

So she was worried, but was trying to lighten the mood. Mary appreciated it.

“Now we gotta go. I have a set list to organize.” Narcissa smiled, waiting for Mary to also get up. But she stayed on the chair, looking at the twins.

“Amelia, Edgar,” she began, “I’ll do it. I promise.”

Edgar smiled, comforting.

He was such a good-natured man. A human Care Bear. Mary wanted to hug him.

“I have no doubts, Mary. But don’t worry, and take it easy,” he said.

~

Mary had doubts, was worried, and did not take it easy.

“Cissa, can we talk for a minute?” she asked as soon as they stepped into their apartment. “Before you go to your room and write down the best songs to impress Alice, that is.”

“I’ll pick my fluffiest, pinkest pen, lay in my bed, and kick my feet to do that,” she smirked to herself, taking off her shoes. “Get on the sofa while I make some hot chocolate for the occasion.”

As Narcissa slid into the kitchen, Mary got comfortable and closed her eyes. Like this, she could almost pretend she was back in her family home, basking in the sunlight filtering through the thin curtains of her window, listening for her brothers’ bickering or for the sound of her mum’s car parking in the garage.

She hadn’t called.

May was surprised by this, but not because she was expecting her mother to beg her to come back-no, she had been happy her daughter had decided to get a life of her own and stopped being a expense, but Mary was expecting her to get in contact to ask about her (still) unborn career, since many weeks had passed and Mary hadn’t released anything, and she didn’t usually pass an opportunity to say ‘i told you so’. Mary, however, was not going to call her and give her the chance on a silver platter.

She was willing to make an effort for her brothers, though.

She called them everyday, asked them about school, how things were at home. Theo was always full of anecdotes and questions, eager to tell and know, and he spoke quickly, trying to make Mary feel like she was still home. He ended every call with a ‘we miss you’, and each time Mary’s heart clenched.

Bingley, on the other hand, let Mary do all the talking. He usually picked up the phone, muttered an ‘hi’, and kept his mouth shut until Mary started asking questions. To which he rigorously answered with monosyllables or mumbling. It drove Mary insane, but she didn’t blame him-she couldn’t, really. She had to take care of him when their mum was too busy with work, becoming a sort of mother figure to him, and now he was left in a similar predicament Mary had been when she was just a few years younger than him.

Maybe she could go back to them. They needed her, she could help them with their schoolwork, do the chores, make sure they were asleep before their parents got home and awake in time for school. They were still kids. How could she leave them? She couldn’t even write songs, what had gotten into her?

“Okay, I’m back-wait, are you crying?” Mary barely registered Narcissa putting the cups down and sitting next to her, her words activating some traitorous mechanism in her eyes that turned them into waterfalls.

She tried to look at Narcissa, but her eyes were too watery to see anything, which made her feel even worse, so she completely gave up seeing and pressed her palms against her eyes, hiccuping. Mary felt Narcissa’s arms around her, and she let her head fall to her chest.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, but Narcissa kept her close.

“I’ll teach you to become a better liar when the time comes, sweetheart,” she joked, and Mary let out a strained laugh that sounded more like mix between a dying cat and an affronted seagull.

“I’m…decent,” she clarified, and apparently Narcissa found it an acceptable answer, because she let her go.

Mary grabbed the cup of chocolate and took a sip, focusing on the rich, warm drink rather than her rumply face.

“What’s wrong? Is it the writing block?” Narcissa asked softly.

“It’s nothing, really, I’m almost on my period, I get emotional-“

“Mary.” Narcissa interrupted her, delicate but firm. “You wanted to talk. What’s wrong?”

Mary sighed.

“Many things, actually, and I think this block is only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Let’s start, then,” Narcissa grabbed her own cup of chocolate and snuggled up on her end of the sofa, like a kid waiting for a bedtime story. “Open up, let’s have a bonding experience.”

“I was thinking about my family,” Mary began, feeling a little silly being interrogated like that. “My brothers. And my mum. And it’s just…I-I’m confused. Torn. I mean, I’m extremely glad for everything that I’ve accomplished, and I don’t regret anything. On the other hand, though, I feel guilty. So fucking guilty, Cissa.”

She gulped, swallowing her tears.

“I left them. I told them I would always be there for them, and then I left and I don’t even regret it, and I fear I’ll end up like my mother and-“ Mary paused. “And a part of me wants to go back. But then I remember where I am, how I worked my ass off for the past months, and I feel like-like I deserve this. And I do. I worked hard, and I’ve earned it. And yet, every time I enjoy what I have, I can’t help but feel like I’m being unfair to my brothers, like I’m here at their expense. And I know it’s not fucking right, but why does my mind do this? Why do I even end up missing my parents, who were never there for me? What even is there to miss?”

Mary took a big breath, her cheeks hot from the unexpected outburst, and was glad to find Narcissa looking at her with not an ounce of judgement in her eyes.

She wasn’t trying to offer solutions right away, giving her some space to be heard instead.

“But I don’t think that’s the cause of this block. I think that dates back to ages ago, before I came here, when I was still looking for a label, a talent scout, or anything, really,” Mary continued, “I was desperate. I had just got out of high school, I had no job and no money, only a few songs waiting to be heard and pressure from my parents. I didn’t have real friends, only acquaintances, but I told them about my dream, my album, stuff like that. I’m not sure how much they cared, to be fair.

“One night, I went to a club with one of these acquaintances of mine. I didn’t go out often, but I‘ve always been a party girl, so when I did go out I always had fun, drinking, smoking and all that. And that night wasn’t much different from the others, at first: I was tipsy, but still ended up chatting with a guy on a bench. Since I was obsessed at the time, I started blabbing about my songs and my desperate need of a label, and at that the guy’s eyes lit up, and he laughed. He said he had contacts with the Black Studios, that his dad worked there, and that he could arrange an interview. I was euphoric. Then he said he wanted to offer me-his ‘future coworker’, he said- a drink, and when he came back he even dared me to down it in ten seconds. Like a game, you see. A joke. That’s the last thing I remember from that night. I woke up behind a bush a few hours later.”

~

Mary opened her eyes, the sun not out yet, but its rays already tinting the sky, timidly pushing away the dark blues and purples. A few stars still hung in there, resolute. It could’ve been a peaceful moment, but then Mary remembered she was lying on the ground, next to a bush right outside a club-a perfect spot for people in desperate need to piss, not ideal to fall asleep. She pushed herself up with her hands, and was surprised to find her whole body aching.

Mary checked her arms and found scratches, and her legs were bruised. Too much damage for a few hours sleeping on the ground.

What time was it? Had Sheryl already gone home? And where was that guy, Mulciber?

Suddenly the world seemed far, far away, and as a suspicion made its way in her mind, a horrible feeling started growing in her stomach, making her want to puke. She didn’t want to know what happened anymore. She wanted to go home, but her ride had left her.

“Hey girly, what are you doing there?” called a voice from a jeep that had just come to a stop next to her. It was a girl, maybe a bit older than her, with straight dark hair and flashy sunglasses and an exceptionally green eyeshadow.

“D’ya need a ride home?” said another girl, her blonde pigtails peeking from behind the first girl. She chewed noisily, and was also wearing bright blue eyeshadow.

“Jess, go help her up, for fuck’s sake!”

“Oh my God, I’m going!” a third girl shouted, coming out of the backseat. She had ridiculously high platforms and a small, tight pink dress, along with a white feather boa and a red wig. Mary thought she was hallucinating.

When she arrived, she crouched in front of her and looked at her with big, brown eyes.

“You okay? You look like a mess.”

Mary wasn’t okay. In fact, she was too confused to answer. The girl took out a tissue from her small purse and started cleaning her face, sweeping away the dirt from her cheeks and the leaves from her hair.

“A bit better. D’you need, like, a ride? I’m still tipsy but our driver, the blonde one, is stone cold sober, I swear. She refuses to drink because she doesn’t want to, like, piss in public bathrooms. Cus it’s too gross for her.”

Mary nodded, speechless, and the girl, Jess, helped her up and led her to the truck. She ended up in the seat between her and the green girl, who had left the spot at the front, and the two soon started to clean her up, fixing her dress, brushing her hair, they even took off her makeup and put a few skin care products. The girl in blue drove recklessly, but the trunk of the car smelled of weed and Mary had the absurd thought that maybe it had an effect on her own sense of self preservation, because she didn’t mind the danger. The girl in green started patting her head, and Mary had the feeling she was the reason behind the sweet scent in the trunk.

“Ok sweetie,” said the blonde, swerving to avoid a pedestrian who was crossing the street. “What happened?”

“I…don’t remember.”

“You got absolutely sloshed last night, didn’t ya? Typical.” smiled the girl in pink. She took out a gum and offered Mary one, and she took it.

“I wasn’t that drunk…A guy was supposed to bring me a drink and…” Mary’s head was too light, her memory blurry. “The last thing I remember is drinking with him. Then I was really sick and…I found myself bruised and aching on the pavement.”

There it was again. The knife in her stomach, the knot in her throat. She wanted to curl up on the seat and cry.

“You got roofied?” asked the girl in blue bluntly.

“Oi! Be more tactless, you cunt!” countered the girl in green.

“I’m taking her to the hospital, bitch. If she was raped, she needs proof.”

Raped. Proof. Mary was going to vomit.

The three girls began fighting, but Mary could only think about her brothers. It was Saturday. She had to help Bingley with a school project and she had promised Theo she’d take him to his friend’s house. She had to clean the house and go grocery shopping. All before her mum came home, or she’d start doing everything herself and then complain about it.

“Take me home,” she whispered, and the girls quieted down.

“Take me home, please.” Mary repeated.

The girl in blue threw her a heavy look from the rear view mirror.

“Are you not going to at least press charges?” she asked, popping her gum. “The police station isn’t far-“

“I don’t have the money or the time. And I was drunk, and I…” Mary let her head fall against the headrest, closing her eyes.

“No one would believe me. It’s a waste of time.”

At that, the girls lost all the will to fight. The girl in green took her hand, drawing small circles on her wrist with her thumb, while Jess rested her head on Mary’s shoulder.

For the rest of the ride, Mary let the air inside of the car, heavy with the smell of weed, perfume, pity and resignation, be filled with her quiet weeping.

~

“Three girls took me home. Now that I think about it, they were dressed like the PowerPuff Girls,” Mary snorted, although she felt more like crying rather than laugh, and Narcissa apparently didn’t find it funny either, her chocolate cold and forgotten now on the table in front of them.

“Mary…”

“Yeah?” she answered, her voice breaking. Narcissa opened her arms, and Mary barely hesitated before throwing herself at her. Narcissa hugged her tightly, as if she could squeeze all the pain away, crushing it until it imploded.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” Mary cried.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Narcissa repeated.

“I didn’t say anything back then. And now, I feel like I can’t say anything,” Mary sobbed, “I have tried writing songs, but every time I sit down with a pen in hand, I can only think about that drive home. When I realised.”

“Why don’t you write about it, then?” Narcissa asked, sweetly, running her fingers through Mary’s hair.

“It’s scary, Cissa. It’s something I don’t want to remember, much less make it known. I don’t care about the public opinion, but I don’t want to be known as that one girl who was assaulted, I want to be known as Mary MacDonald.”

“You don’t have to release a song,” replied Narcissa. “You could write a letter, or a poem. It can be personal, or you can choose to publish it. I think it could be helpful, regardless of what you choose to do with it. Cathartic.”

“Do many singers even release this kind of stuff? It’s…very personal.” Mary pondered, ignoring the fact she had cried all over Narcissa’s (now soaked) arms and shirt. Mary was still holding her chocolate, which she miraculously hadn’t spilled.

“Some do. Take Evans, for example. She writes mostly autobiographical stuff, and the people love it.” Narcissa shrugged. “That’s also why I think she will be good for your block. She can bring out the best in you.”

Mary smiled.

“Can I tell you a secret? It has nothing to do with all this,” she whispered, lifting her face to meet Narcissa’s gaze.

“If you want.”

Mary paused for suspence.

“I’ve never listened to Lily’s songs.”

“What?” Narcissa exclaimed, shocked. “How is that possible? She’s literally a pop icon! Has been for years!”

“I know but-“ Mary laughed, returning to her half of the sofa to watch Narcissa freak out from a safe distance.

“She has won multiple awards, set records, made multiple cameos in shows and ads-“

“Cissa.” Mary interrupted her, smiling. “I’ve heard some of her most famous songs, I just thought it was funny because everyone expects me to know everything about her, starting from her discography.”

She took a sip from her cup, hiding a smile, but Narcissa seemed thoughtful. Mary had a feeling she was still thinking about what she’d told her, and was debating bringing it up again.

“What did you say his name was?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

“He said it was Mulciber, but I doubt he was stupid enough to tell his real name. Why?”

“There is a Mulciber who works in my family’s business,” she said, and Mary felt her blood speeding up in her veins.

“He’s Snape’s manager.”

~

“I am so fucked. So. Fucked.” Alice was pacing back and forth in her living room, or rather, had been pacing for a while now, with three pairs of eyes following her.

“I’m a hypocrite. What was I even thinking?” she cried, “Do you think I’m a hypocrite?”

Lily and Frank immediately responded with a choir of ‘noo’’s, while Marlene let out a dubious ‘meh…’ that made Alice pout.

“She didn’t even tell us what happened!” Lily protested, and Marlene just shrugged.

“Actually, can you tell us what happened? In detail, because I think we’ve already got the general gist,” intervened Frank.

“How long have you-you know what, I don’t care,” said Alice, and started walking again.

“Narcissa and I were in a relationship, it ended badly, and I haven’t spoken to her since. I thought she hated me, turns out she hates the fact that I don’t think about her all the time-“

“Which is a lie, because you do,” Marlene interrupted her, and Alice threw her a glare that made the blonde raise her hands in surrender.

“-anyways. Now she wants me to watch her performance and I am going fucking crazy because I have been ignoring her, and I don’t know what to expect.”

“Crazy detail, Fortescue.” Frank commented. Alice ignored him.

“Why don’t you listen to some of her songs, so you do know what to expect?” suggested Lily.

“I would have to endure listening to her voice for hours and I don’t think I can do that, the show is tomorrow.” Alice answered. “I swear, she makes me want to bang my head against the wall.”

“I think she only makes you want to bang-“

“Marlene, I’m begging you. Stop.”

She smirked from her stool.

“If the issue is time,” began Frank, “Lily and I have made a list of songs that might be about you.”

“And why in God’s name did you do that?” Alice asked, exasperated.

“We were bored and had a perfectly good whiteboard,” said Lily.

“Oi, we can use that as a bucket list when we watch the show!” Marlene exclaimed.

Alice wanted to rip her hair off. “Let’s organise a watch party while we’re at it,” she said ironically, covering her face with her hands.

“We’re all going to be watching the show, Alice,” replied Lily, “James and Sirius will also be performing. Marlene and I can go to Peter’s with Remus, if you want to be alone.”

“Yes, thank you. Sorry for banishing you from your own home.”

“It’s fine, Alice. We’ve been looking forward to going, actually.” Marlene said, comforting. She came closer to Alice and started patting her back. “When was this relationship with Narcissa, though? Before or after she left the Black Studios?”

“…It was when we were still at Hogwarts.”

“Ten years ago?” Frank spoke under his breath, and Marlene’s hand dropped from Alice’s back. Lily bit her bottom lip, possibly to refrain from saying something.

“Holy fucking shit, Alice. And you’re still like this?” commented Marlene.

“Of course I am. You would be like this, too, if you were in my place!” Alice protested.

Because what she had with Narcissa was incredible.

It was playful, youthful at first.

Thrilling and passionate in the middle.

A tragedy in the end.

But it was theirs, all throughout, and it was real. It was real for Alice, and maybe she was wrong, maybe it was real for Narcissa, too.

In twenty four hours, one of two scenarios would happen.

In the first, Narcissa’s songs were going to be about how badly Alice treated her, maybe they diminished their past to a silly teenage love and humiliated her publicly, other than break heart in even smaller pieces.

In the second, Narcissa apologised and confessed her undying love for her. Which, honestly, might be even worse.

The sound of Lily’s ringtone interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh!” her face lit up as soon as she saw the screen. “It’s Mary! I’ll be back in a sec!”

She didn’t even wait for an answer before skipping to another room, her hair bouncing with every step.

“Are we going to address that, or…” Marlene said, pointing towards the door Lily had just shut behind her.

“Let’s address that. I’m tired of being the one under the spotlight,” agreed Alice. “That’s a lot of excitement for a friend.”

“Well, you know Lily,” intervened Frank, “She loves her friends a lot. And, she’s a girls’ girl. I don’t see anything weird.”

“Why are you trying so hard to defend her (alleged) heterosexuality?” inquired Marlene, wary.

“That’s suspicious, Frank. People might get the wrong idea,” agreed Alice.

He rolled his eyes vigorously.

“She’s dated plenty of men. She said multiple times she likes men.”

“Bisexuality is a thing,” countered Marlene.

“I would know that, McKinnon.”

“I can’t possibly know that, you never tell us about your love life!”

Frank and Marlene began bickering, and Alice was laughing so hard she had to kneel down.

“I’m back!” smiled Lily, entering the room.

“That was quick,” said Alice, still wheezing.

“She had to help Narcissa with something. Anyways, she invited me to her place tomorrow. Narcissa is going to be away all day, so she wanted to start writing our song. I’ll stay with her to watch the show,” she explained.

“Oh, so it’s going to be just the two of you? Alone?” Alice asked innocently.

“Yes, imagine how sad it would’ve been if she was by herself all day!” Lily replied.

“So sad,” agreed Marlene, using the same tone as Alice. “I’ll tell Peter and Remus you’re not coming, then.”

“They won’t mind, will they?”

“I’ll tell them why you can’t come, they’ll understand,” Marlene smiled, and then threw a glance at Frank, who was unimpressed.

“Thank you, you’re the best. I have to pick an outfit, Friday is literally tomorrow!” Lily said, going to her room, but then stopped and turned back to them.

“Actually, this may sound weird, but…” she started. “Do you think Mary likes women?”

Alice covered her mouth with a hand, trying to muffle a laugh. She didn’t know what was going on between Marlene and Frank, but if she took a quick look she knew she wouldn’t be capable to stop herself from cackling.

“I think she does,” replied Marlene after a quick silence, since Frank clearly wasn’t going to answer.

“I heard she has a girlfriend. Valentina, I think.”

“Oh really?” said Lily, taken aback. “I mean, of course Mary isn’t single, have you seen her? She’s gorgeous, it would be a crime if she were. She’s really kind, too. I’m just surprised, it’s…well, she hasn’t mentioned a girlfriend, and we’ve been talking for a while.”

Lily Evans was rambling. Alice and Marlene were going to taunt the fuck out of Frank at the first available opportunity.

“Anyways. Marlene, how-who told you?”

“No one, I lied. I wanted to prove a point to Frank.” Marlene smirked, pointing to him.

Lily pressed her lips into a thin line, and Alice could feel a few gears getting into motion in that smart, oblivious head of hers. She left the room shortly after, and Alice and Marlene didn’t have to say anything: Frank raised his hands in surrender, giving up under the girls’ laughter.

[intheoverlap]

Paper World

Entry 1

Summary: blog purpose, safety rules, introduction to paper world, first interaction with paper world

The reason I'm making my diary digital is to circumvent, what I assume is, one of the key components of paper world.

Every part of paper world I have been able to find has been, well, created or printed on paper. Which is why I will ask any potential guest on this blog not to print out anything found here, and especially not paint or draw or write on paper about it. For safety's sake. Nothing against traditional art, I just want to be on the safe side.

My run ins with paper world started long before I even understood it existed, and paper world's interaction with the world will remain long after I'm gone. These are the only two things I am sure of.

A third thing I am almost sure of is, you will know, instinctively, if you come across paper world. You won't know-know it, you won't understand it, you may not have the words for it, but it's ever so different from being immersed in a book or imagining things. And no, I don't have carbon monoxide poisoning.

The first sign that you've encountered Paper World is; the story reads you, as much as you read it.

That sounds dumb typed out like that. You'll just have to know. There's this eerie sense that, you are the story, the characters see you, hear you, maybe you can even smell the flowers on the page.

The second sign is; immersion. Beyond a daydream, beyond getting engrossed in the story. For a moment, all that existed WAS the story. It wasn't a story. It was life. It was the moment. If you lived in the moment, the moment was Paper World, and when you get back it lingers. Not as a thought. As a sensation. You might even see the imprint of it, a hint of something at the corners of your eye, or, if you're unlucky, yourself on the paper.

That happened to me once. I didn't understand at the time, more than that I never wanted to read that book again. I wasn't in middle school yet, though I could read, and my grandpa took me to the second hand shop in town. I could pick anything I wanted under 50 sek. Book worm as I was, I padded over to the older children's section where they had nonfiction about animals.

Something else caught my eye, though.

With a red back as though it was stolen from a library, it sat on the lowest shelf, standing taller than the other books. It didn't belong. Too tall, the wrong genre, no alphabetical sorting. No price tag. 0 was less than 50 and that was all that mattered to me. I picked it up and grandpa haggled the price to 20 sek.

I read it on the school bus.

The text was simple enough for a 1st grader to follow, though I must've been in 3rd already. Watercolour illustrations covered every page. A family of three, mother, baby and father, as plain as can be. What we'd call a "Svensson-Svensson" if that tells you anything. Think, average white middle class family. Only something felt off.

When a house is pristine like an Ikea catalogue it doesn't feel like anyone lives there. That's how the book felt.

The bus ride passed me by. I chalked it up to my wild imagination and the high quality of the book, though I no longer consider that the truth. Because. At my stop. Right before I got off, farther down the line of kids who were going to the same school, was a family of three. Mother, child, and father. Straight from my book.

I could've been wrong. To make sure I opened the book, to a random page, somewhere in the middle, and what I saw wasn't the family staring back at me. It was their house seen through the window of my own room. My own pyjamas laid on the bed.

I closed the book.

At school I taped it shut and covered the whole front and back with markers. When I got home my neighbour's house looked just the same as usual, and it relieved me, but I still check my window sometimes just in case.

That started my collection. I have found 14 samples of this phenomenon I call paper world.

At first I thought they were separate works. They all told different stories in different styles by different authors. Some were even handmade watercolour animations. Not even books!

The similarities popped up the more I studied them. (I'm very very careful not to read a full book from front to back.) Characters would overlap. Backgrounds would show up in different works, by name or appearance or even vaguely hinted at on a map. No, I can't 100% confirm a comic panel is the same place as a swamp on a fantasy map, yes, I'm still 100% sure it is. You'll have to take my word for it.

It is my theory that paper world actually is a world jus like our own, though bound by completely different rules.

These books don't technically exist. Searching for works by the same author yields nothing online, even as I have a trilogy from a certain W. A. Gallenbury.

To anyone with experience of paper world, PLEASE send in your stories. DMs or ask box or submission doesn't matter. All I ask is that you under no circumstances re-read or re-watch anything with ties to paper world. No links to videos should be posted for anyone to see, though short clips that don't contain the whole story might be safe to watch. DM if you're unsure.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

The Author of this diary

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Or

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

[jimblejamblewritings]

let us help you | end.

Summary: The team is absolutely in love with one of the SHIELD recruits and hopes she joins the team considering she already lives with them. No one knows that she has several eating problems not even the two super-soldiers who seem to hang onto her even more than the rest of the team

Warnings for the Series: self-esteem issues, eating disorder, angsty, smut

Pairing: Stucky x black!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

You woke up to a smoothie, a takeout one instead of the usual homemade. Steve was sitting at the end of the bed, medium plastic cup in his hand. You went to grab your phone and he reached over to take it before you could.

“Steve!”

“It’s 7:10 am, no we aren’t running this morning, yes this is your breakfast.”

“That looks l—”

“It’s a sixteen ounce smoothie full of stuff you like plus a scoop of yogurt. Breakfast. Please take it from my hand, doll, so I can go get my coffee,” he said the last part light-heartedly in hopes you would accept it.

You just looked at the cup in his hand. Steve took a sip and then held the cup back out. This time, you gingerly took it from his hand. He watched you take a sip and patted your knee before getting up to get himself food. He sat back down at the end of the bed when he returned so he would be facing you. His voice was more gentle this time.

“First step, getting rid of those rules. We’ll eat when you’re hungry and I know you like breakfast. Don’t even try hiding it, Buck and I hear your stomach grumbling when we wake up.”

You took another sip while eyeing Steve’s plate. He had a full meal. Your head tilted and Steve mirrored your actions. He didn’t say anything, just waited until you stopped sipping on the smoothie. You scooted closer to him and grabbed the fork from his hand to feed him.

“You and Bucky seem so happy eating, the whole team does… I want to be happy too.”

Steve finished swallowing his bite as you started to poke the fork into more food. He grabbed the smoothie cup you had abandoned and pressed it to your lips, you absentmindedly took a sip as you loaded his fork with food. You stopped sipping for a moment to finish your thought.

“All the time. I’m happy eating sometimes.”

“Yeah, I remember that little wiggle over tomato soup.”

You laughed and Steve smiled as you did the little dance again after taking another sip of smoothie.

“That’s a sound I like to hear.”

You and Steve’s heads turned to the doorway where Bucky was standing, still in tactical gear. He walked into the room and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips before doing the same to you.

“You’re back,” you said, excitedly.

Bucky told the field agents on his mission team that they could hurry up and finish the minute quickly or do it without him but either way he was coming home after Steve called. The forkful that was meant for Steve, you instinctively put up to Bucky’s mouth. Even if he hadn’t watched the scene from the doorway, he knew to just accept the bite of breakfast while you watched him with doe eyes and sipped on the smoothie.

Bucky took a quick shower and sat on the bed, his chest against your back. He already ate in the quinjet on the way back and was content with stealing sips of Steve’s coffee while you and Steve finished breakfast. The two men were uniquely perceptive to your body cues, you watched Steve and felt Bucky tense up as you gagged after the last sip of smoothie. You held your hand up to your mouth until the little bit of the bile that rose in the back of your throat died down.

“I’m okay. It happens sometimes.”

Neither one of them relaxed completely. You tilted your head back so you could look at Bucky.

“Why’d you come back? Steve said your mission…”

“He called me last night, had to come home. Why the face, angel?”

“You left a mission early… because of me.”

“I left because I wanted to come home and take care of you. Not because you necessarily needed it but because I wanted to.”

You frowned but didn’t say anything. This wasn’t an argument you were going to win with Bucky and you knew it. The smoothie was finished and you set the empty cup on the nightstand and grabbed Bucky’s hand, playing with the metal fingers. You raised his hand up and lightly pressed a kiss to his fingers before dropping them into your lap. Bucky could see the broken capillaries that Steve told him about. Steve finished breakfast, offering the last of the coffee to Bucky who gladly accepted it.

“Meditation or reading?”

“What, Steve?”

“We can’t run right away, just ate. So what do you want to do, skip straight to Buck’s meditation or reading or what?”

You thought for a minute and chose to skip to meditation until you had fully digested breakfast. Bucky went on the run even though he had just come from a mission. They were reluctant to let you go to training until the capillaries were healed but you told them it was fine. You stopped them before they could step into the training room with a devilish look on your face. Bucky was caught off guard when you stepped up to him, so close that you could feel his breath, right outside the training room where someone could see if they just opened the doors.

“Sarge,” you whined. “Captain said the punishment was your idea.”

Both of the men chuckled. You jutted out your bottom lip. Bucky bent down to kiss you and, taking a page out of Steve’s book, gently nipped at your lip. You smiled as you felt yourself being sandwiched between the two of them. Bucky brushed his fingers against your collarbones. He pulled away, keeping his lips still close to yours.

“You didn’t think that was going to get you out of it, angel, did you?”

“Please.”

“Should we cut her a break, Sarge?” Steve asked as his hands squeezed your hips. You nodded furiously as they looked at each other over your head.

“Do well at practice and I think we can look the other way after lunch.”

The three of you straightened yourselves out and walked into the training room. Your friends gave you knowing looks while the rest of the group didn’t even bother to look your way. Training went smoothly and you had a sneaking suspicion that Steve and Bucky were going a little easier on you than normal although both of them would deny it if you confronted them about it. Not that you were complaining if it meant you were finally going to get off. You bounded out of the gym when practice was over instead of staying behind to help them pack everything up like normal— making both Steve and Bucky chuckle, knowing that you were probably going to get yourself ready.

You were nowhere to be seen when they entered their room. Neither of them wanted to panic but they felt nervousness wash over them. Trying not to cause a scene, they walked briskly through the halls only stopping and sighing in relief as they heard your laughter. You looked over your shoulder as they entered the kitchen area and showed them a bowl of pasta with barely a dent in it.

“Vision wanted someone to try his cooking for Wanda,” you mumbled.

Even though everyone knew, you still tried not to discuss it too much with the other members of the team.

“How are you feeling, pretty doll?” Bucky asked, tentatively.

You thought about it and decided to be honest with them. “Like I can’t eat dinner after this… I don’t think I can finish this.”

Steve took the bowl out of your hand and put the rest of the pasta into a tupperware container and set it in the fridge. Vision handed a bowl to Wanda who had just entered the kitchen. The other Avengers started to flow in as well. Some of them took the leftovers that Vision said they could have while others started looking for their own food. Bucky rubbed circles on the back of your hand. It all felt so overwhelming having everyone suddenly in and being surrounded by food. You hopped off of the barstool as the smell of oil heating up in Sam’s pan wafted over to your nose.

“I just need a minute,” you whispered as you left the room.

Bucky and Steve looked at each other before nodding and following you, staying a little bit behind. They found you laying down on the floor of their room with your gaze focused on the ceiling. They settled down beside you and mimicked your movements. It was silent for a minute as the three of you looked at the plain ceiling.

“The bed was too soft for thinking,” you finally said.

“What are we thinking about?” Steve asked.

You turned your head to look at him before going back to looking at the ceiling. He knew to drop it and Bucky didn’t push for a follow up either. You couldn’t help the slight smile that graced your face after you had sighed loudly and the two of them did the same. Unprompted, you grabbed both of their hands— the two supersoldiers gently squeezing your hands.

The rest of the night was a silent affair. Instead of team dinner, Bucky and Steve ate in their room with you occasionally picking off of each of their plates when you felt like you could. They didn’t push knowing you weren’t feeling the best, at least you were eating something. Bucky couldn’t help but tense up each time your eyes glanced towards the bathroom door and Steve slowly inched his body to cover more and more of the door without alerting you that they knew what was actively on your mind. You went to bed with murmurs of goodnight being the most you had said since getting up from the floor.

You were still knocked out when they woke up in the morning since it was a Friday and no training was on the schedule. Steve and Bucky very carefully got out of bed in order to not disturb you. They made their way to one of the conference rooms that Nick had requested they meet in. Most of the team looked the same way they did, still in pajamas and nursing cups of coffee. Nick was going on and debriefing them about another HYDRA related mission.

“Each group is small but you all need to work together to pull it off. So really it’s a big mission.”

“How big are we talking exactly?” Nat asked.

Nick started naming off the Avengers in certain teams. “And Bruce, we’re putting you out on the field for this one. You’ll be with Cap and Bucky.”

“Me and Steve?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.”

“No,” Steve said, not skimping on an ounce of authority in his voice.

Steve’s comment made the rest of the team look at him.

“No?” Nick asked, astonished.

“No. Buck and I aren’t both leaving.”

“And may I ask why?”

“(Y/N),” Bucky said, tentatively.

“We need every person on this mission. You want me to give that up for one random recruit? Your partner?”

Bucky was getting annoyed and Steve had to keep him in the chair he was sitting in. They weren’t going to budge on leaving you completely alone for a mission that had no current end date. They weren’t going to let the threat of another relapse be something that you carried alone. Nick looked at the two men in front of him and knew they wouldn’t budge. He also knew that it must’ve been a serious matter if they cared so much.

“FRIDAY!” Nick yelled to the air.

“Yes, Director?”

“Where is (Y/N)?”

“She just returned to Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes’ bed.”

“Tell her to come in.”

Steve and Bucky looked at the table at FRIDAY’s words. Even though everyone knew you all were together, it still felt a little personal that they knew you were in their bed. You soon came into the conference room, still in pajamas and headscarf. Your normal smoothie was replaced with an equally large cup of coffee and, much to your boyfriends’ pleasure, a bowl of fruit.

“FRIDAY said you called for me, Director?”

“Congrats, you’re an Avenger.”

You almost dropped the bowl of fruit in your hand. Training wasn’t over yet and you weren’t even expecting a shot at the position. You had been aiming for a field agent at best, even with the number one spot of your most recent rank. You looked over at the team who shrugged in confusion, not knowing this was happening at this exact moment. Yeah, they had talked it out but this exact moment was not when they planned to say it.

“I’m sorry, sir, what?”

“You’re on the team with Dr. Banner, Cap, and Sarge. They’ll brief you when you leave for the quinjet.”

Nick turned to Steve and Bucky, addressing them only. “Problem solved. Get to work.”

The group was dismissed. Everyone clapped you on the back as they filed out the room until it was just Steve and Bucky left in front of you.

“Am I actually an Avenger now?”

They both nodded. “We’ll brief you but we’re all supposed to suit up and go in two hours.”

Steve reached for one of the grapes in your bowl but you pulled it back before he could.

“Ah ah. Get your own breakfast, soldier.”

Bucky moved to be behind you. His arms wrapped around your middle and he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Yeah, Steve, get your own breakfast,” he said with a smile.

Steve snorted out a laugh and took a grape anyway. Instead of eating it, he pressed it to your lips. You took it into your mouth, rolling your eyes when he and Bucky took two more grapes out of the bowl and ate them. Not one to miss out on the fun, Bucky grabbed an apple chunk to feed you.

“It’s nice to see you eating breakfast, pretty doll,” he commented.

“I’m trying,” you whispered.

“That’s all we can hope for,” Steve responded.

Both he and Bucky kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t going to be perfect, the three of you knew it, but it felt like something you could get through.

[nkogneatho]

hiii could i please request a langa x fem reader? basically one where they have a fight and langa says something rude by accident, the prompt can be "stop being so clingy" if that makes it easier :) but yah can it be intense angst to fluff? thank you <3

"Stop being so clingy"- Langa Hasegawa x gn!reader.

•A/n: I made it gn!reader if you don't mind | The header is made by me so do not use without permission.

You know there was something wierd going on when Reki wasn't the first one to arrive at your usual spot. Plus, your boyfriend was acting weird since last night.

"Langa?", you asked but his attention wasn't on you. You tried calling Reki but seemed like he was busy.

"Langa call Reki. Where this boy has gone? He is always the first one to arrive."

"I can't. He won't pick up", his eyes wander at the ground, watching his footsteps.

"Is there anything wrong? Did something happen between you two?", you questioned the blue haired but he seemed to be ignoring them.

"Langa I asked you something. Atleast answer me. I am really worried about you".

"No y/n there is nothing wrong. Even if there is, you can't solve anything about it so the least you can do now is atleast shut that annoying mouth of yours."

"B-bu-", your words seemed to stutter but you were still honestly worried about him.

"No. What did I just say? Stop being so clingy", your heart sank at how he can say such hurtful words so easily with a platonic expression.

You sprinted your skateboard and headed back home abandoning him there.

Were you really this clingy that it pushed his buttons? You didn't know how to feel about this because somewhere you were so busy caring about him that you didn't see this coming.

The next day you arrived at S. Everyone quite shocked to see SNOW and Y/N arriving separately and the Red haired one not tagging along with you guys.

Langa was still pretty much depressed about Reki so he didn't know how to face you. Well not that you care now because it did hurt. You were not in the wrong but maybe your care for him came out differently than you thought.

Let it be a dark night, but you never fazed once from your skateboarding but seems like tonight you were quite unstable. You stumbled upon the skateboard trying to pull of a move but you failed.

"Anything done in rush and frustration, doesn't produce good results y/n", Cherry knew there was something going on. After all his mother instincts are pretty strong.

"I wasn't really frustrated"

"Dare lie to me?"

"Alright. A little bit frustrated maybe", you gave up trying to argue sighing.

"Y/n are you okay?", Langa arrived in a rush but you ignored him completely and walked limp past him.

He approached you and tried to held your wrist but you still snatched away.

"What is your problem?", you hissed at him

"What do you mean? You're hurt", he was confused cause you know how dense he can be sometimes. Not knowing when to give space and when not.

"None of your business. I can take care of myself", you continue trying to walk away from him.

He approached and wrapped your left arm around his shoulder.

"Wha- what are you doing?", you struggle to get away but this time his grip was tight.

"Trying to help my babe but they clearly don't want it so maybe I'll have to use force"

"You don't have to. I don't want it. Stop being so clingy", you didn't mean to taunt him but he did stumble for a minute.

He realised how some words are just more than words when he got a taste of his own medicine.

"I am just going to take you home safely. After we do that, you can taunt me all you want", his gaze was avoiding you.

"I wasn't really taunting. It just slipped out of my mouth". You waited but there was no reply. You tried to sneak your eyes at his face just then you saw drop falling down.

"Langa. Are you crying?, you ask.

"I-I am so sorry. You were just- worried- about me. But I- I still called you clingy and- pushed you away", is this how bad he cries?, you thought.

You pulled him into a hug.

"It's okay. I am not that mad. Please don't cry baby.", you stroked his back.

"I am really sorry. I love you so much. I was so scared that you might leave me so I didn't face you.", so that's the reason why he was ignoring you.

"I am not going to leave you Langa. I could never", you cupped his cheek stroking his tears away. Honestly? Seeing him like this, face tomato red from the crying did bring tears to your eyes too.

"Let's go to the medical and buy some pain relief spray. And then..."

"Then?", you asked.

"We will stop by the ramen shop and I will tell you everything that's going on between me and Reki", the fact that he was ready to open up to you now, relieved you.

"Umm...Okay. Your treat since you hurted me today".

"Well I was hurt too but alright", he agreed to your order.

"And by the way, I am ordering the most expensive one", you whispered in his ears purposely.

"You're gonna make me go broke, aren't ya?"

"Yup", you giggled.

"Well it's worth it if that brings a smile on your face", See? How can he say such romantic things without even like blushing and all?

[necromancers-incorporated]

What if Steve Rogers was Percy Jackson reincarnated?

Idea was sent to me by @michellethaliadrottingu, absolutely love this idea and all its parallels!

It started very simply. An offhand comment made by Tony, one of his usual snide remarks. However, silence that followed wasn't because of his joke, but was because of Steve. He didn't even know what he was saying before it just slipped out.

Di immortalis.

He had never said that before, never even heard of it for that matter. Everyone shot him a concerned glance before Tony laughed and brushed it off to Steve's great relief. He laughed it off too, but the unease had already settled into the back of his mind, and there it waited for the right time to claw its way further into his mind.

The second incident happened about a month later. He had tripped and stubbed his toe and cursed.

Bruce looked at him, confused, and said, "I didn't know you spoke Greek."

An ill feeling settled over Steve, a cold dread around his chest. He tried to ignore it, push it away. Maybe he had picked it up somewhere, or perhaps he had read it and forgotten until that moment. The unsettled feeling in his stomach wouldn't leave.

A third 'moment', as he had come to call them, happened not even two weeks after his strange cursing. He had been training with Nat and she had tried to punch him in the chest, but in a matter of instinct he flipped her and she was on her back. If he tried to think back to how he did it his mind came up blank. He had no memory of ever learning to fight like that.

As time went on, more 'moments' kept happening more often. They were flashes of half formed dreams and nightmares, monsters and demons and death. Memories. Steve kept wondering if he had gone insane, if after everything he had been through he had finally cracked from the pressure. Some nights he would wake up drenched in sweat, half sleeping, monsters at the foot of his bed, reaching for him.

Aches and pains plagued his waking hours. Injuries he did not remeber getting. Particularly along his back and shoulders, but why on earth it would hurt there he had no clue.

It didn't take too long for the others to guess that something wasn't right. Natasha was the first to approach him about it. She asked if he was okay, if something was bothering him, and he had come clean. Getting it off his chest had felt good, but the look on Nat's face made him worry. He had never seen her look so...scared.

Eventually, he'd had enough. Enough of the faces with no names, of the memories, of the falling and the drowning every night. He got tired, and scared, and everything made him jump. Steve could think of only one person who had any chance of actually helping him, who could tell him if he was crazy or not.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked sharply on the door. Wanda's head peered round the edge, and she smiled and opened it wider. They weren't exactly friends, but at least, he thought, she wouldn't immediately assume he was crazy.

"Steve, how nice of you to visit," she joked, but then stopped when she saw the look in his eyes, the desperation. He smile faded, and she stepped aside so he could enter.

Taking a seat on her bed, he let his head fall into his hands. Was he really going to do this? To ask her for this kind of help?

"What is wrong, Steve?" she asked tentatively, sitting next to him.

He shook his head. "I don't know, Wanda," he began, trying desperately to keep his voice from shaking. "I keep seeing these...things, these people. I keep having these nightmares all the time, I can't, they won't let me sleep." He sighed again, already feeling the tears welling in his eyes.

Wanda only nodded for him to continue.

"I don't know what to do," he went on, raising his head to meet her eyes. "I thought that, with your powers..."

"You thought I could see what was going on? Stop them?" she finished for him.

All Steve could do was nod. Part of him felt ashamed, for asking so much of the younger girl, especially after she had been through so much already, but how could he go on if he was getting ten minutes of sleep a night?

"Please," he whispered, voice barely above a whisper. 

Again, Wanda nodded, but hesitated as she raised her hands. She looked at Steve, asking for permission, and then proceeded.

It felt like he was back in one of his nightmares. Water, flying above New York, camp fires and singing, stars, a dead girl at his feet with someone crying next to him, boats and monsters and demons chasing him, a sword in one hand, a shield in the other. Someone was calling him, but it wasn’t his name. 

He came out of Wanda’s trance with a gasp, and noticed with great embarrassment how sweaty he had become. In front of him, Wanda’s eyes were wide, but not with fear.

“It is not you that you are seeing,” she said quietly. “But at the same time it is. He is a boy, and he is everything you are and not.” She faltered, searching for the right words. “He has - no, had, a life. It was yours, but it is not anymore.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What are you saying, Wanda?” he pleaded, desperation creeping back into his voice. “Is there any way to end it?” 

“Yes.” She paused and took a breath. “But I would not recommend it, Steve. These memories...they could be there for a reason.” 

“No,” he growled, much more forcefully than he had intended to. “Whoever that is, that’s not me. Please, just make it so I won’t have to see them again, those people. If they’re there for a reason we can dig them back up but not now.” 

Wanda relented. “Fine, but do not say that I didn’t warn you.” She raised her hands again, red spilling from the tips of her fingers, and everything faded to black. 

Rest, at last. 

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

Apologies that this took forever. I’ve been working on some of my own writing and school got really busy after when I got back from travelling. Lots of other stuff too, but I hope you like it lol. 

[blackbat05]

Jumping in head first

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: This was actually written before the others but not sure why I put it at the back. Been writing a bit more platonic imagines but I always welcome a different interpretation when you read it! To give a bit of context, reader is also an Avenger but she joined later and Shangqi is like the older protective brother? Because I just think that trope is neat. Anyways, hope this idea of mine is engaging as it was in my mind and as always, like and comment if you wish! Appreciate the support! 

Genre: PG 13

Warning: Profanity, blood, the usual when I attempt to write an action sequence? 

A gunshot rang throughout the department store. Shit. You were still in there. Shangqi races inside, battling against the throngs of shoppers who were desperately trying to get out.

You lifted the little boy up, sprinting away from the sound with all your might. Think (y/n), you tell yourself. Frantically gazing around the deserted store, you decided to hide the boy in a changing room that was neatly tucked in a corner. You removed your jacket, wrapping it around the boy. How nice, you and Shangqi had decided to go to the nearby mall to grab burgers from the new burger joint that had opened before heading to the Avengers compound to train and this had to happen. 

‘Hey… hey, don’t be afraid ok? I’ll make sure to come back for this.’ You tried to assure the poor boy. It seemed to do the trick as he managed to calm down. Shutting the door, you peeked out into the open to make sure the coast was clear. You had to direct attention away from this floor. As you turned left to the now stationary escalator, you saw a mannequin at the children’s section. Perfect.

You pushed the mannequin down the escalator, resulting in a large crash the level below. That was going to leave some lasting damage. ‘Someone’s downstairs!’ You could hear the pairs of heavy boots going down to the second level. Good. Now you just needed to see how many assholes were there to carry out your attack. Making sure to keep a safe distance, you went into a crouching position behind a wall, whipping out your phone camera.

Two… Four… Five of them. You were pretty tall yourself but these guys had boulders for bodies. You were starting to think if this plan of yours was just straight up reckless. Before you could decide on your next move, a hand clamps on your shoulder, bringing you down. ‘What the-oomph! Shangqi!’ You gasp. ‘The hell you doing here?’

‘Saving your ass clearly! What were you thinking?’ Shangqi glances up to see the assailants before turning to look at you. ‘The boy’s safe. I managed to get him out. We can engage freely. But minimum damage please.’

You rolled my eyes at him, ‘Says the guy who caused a bus to be chopped in half.’

‘You know that wasn’t me!’ He hisses back. Ignoring the noise of indignation he made, you scanned the area again. It was as if higher beings were looking out for the two of you, only two of the assailants remained while the rest spread themselves out within the level. The both of you were thinking the same thing - you and him and to take down each assailant within record time to prevent any unwanted attention.

Signing to Shangqi, the both of you treaded carefully down the escalator, each taking a side of the walkway surrounding a store selling prams. You signaled to him using your fingers. On three, strike immediately. Three…two…one!

You launched at the unsuspecting man in front of you, knocking him off balance. Before he could react, I wrapped myself around his left leg, forearms surrounding his ankle in a tight grip. ‘Don’t move unless you want to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life boy.’ The masked assailant whimpers, quickly taking of his mask. He was no more than 16. ‘Alright, I surrender! Please don’t hurt me!’

I stare hard at him. He reminds me to much of the kids that I volunteer with at the shelter. What is his story? ‘Fine, tell me who’s your boss and why is he making you do this?’

‘I swear, for real - I don’t know. All I know is that some guy in a suit and sunglasses came to me and my friends and offered us a heck load of cash if we help to pull of some heist.’

I turn to Shangqi as if hoping the had some answers which he did. Being an Avenger didn’t just consist of battling a genocidal titan. It also meant that they were spread out across the country, lending a hand to the local police. ‘It’s probably the local gangs crawling around Chinatown. They gets kids like them to do heist like these and use the money to fund illegal activities.’ 

‘What kind?’

‘You don’t want to know,’

‘What kind,’ I emphasized again, not taking no for an answer. If kids like the boy were in danger, there needed to be something done. Shangqi sighs, ‘Drug smuggling, prostitution, organ harvesting. This is just the tip of the iceberg.’

My blood ran cold. Grabbing a rope from the mannequin donned in sports climbing gear, I tied the boy to the metal grills. ‘Don’t try anything funny.’

The two us proceeded to follow the remaining assailants. My brain was in overdrive, full of rage. ‘Can’t believe such lowlifes are allowed to run around San Francisco freely,’ I muttered under my breath, ‘don’t try to stop me.’ 

Shangqi ascends the steps of the escalator together with me, ‘Who said anything about stopping? Just try not to kill them okay? We still need them for interrogation.’ 

‘Can’t promise you that.’ 

Exactly an hour later, the two of us are standing together with a rookie officer who was taking Shangqi’s statement. I keep my eyes on the entrance where first responders were wheeling out stretchers of the injured. I happen to see the little boy who gave me a small wave in thanks. At least my injured shoulder was worth it. 

‘Fucking bitch!’ The last stretcher rolled out from the shopping mall with one of the assailants who was pointing furiously at me. ‘That bitch broke my ankle!’ 

I should have been shocked by the outburst and perhaps slightly embarrassed that tons of onlookers were staring at me. To my credit, it was the opposite - a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance at his behavior. My natural instincts were now controlling me. Striding towards his stretcher, I held a hand out to the medic to give me a minute before grabbing him by his bloodied shirt. 

‘Listen here you piece of shit,’ I kept my voice low to prevent any onlookers from picking up on the situation but loud enough for Shangqi to hear. ‘I’m willing to break more than just your ankle for what you did to those kids. You better spill everything to the police before I break more than just your ankle.’ To send my point across, my eyes playfully roamed down his body. He definitely left on the ambulance traumatized. 

‘Woah don’t burn me,’ Shangqi raises his hands playfully as he approaches me. ‘I don’t have to worry about you anymore huh?’ 

You rolled your eyes at him, ‘What can I say? I’m looking to outshine you one day!’

On cue, the same rookie officer bounds up to us, out of breath. ‘Mister uh-Shangqi, Miss Y/N, I just got another alert from my officer, there’s another attack in one of the financial buildings - we have reason to believe it’s the same group.’

We gave each other knowing looks. It was going to be a longer day than usual. ‘Well, the trip to the compound just got cancelled,’ Shangqi stretches his arms, as if gearing up for a boxing match.

‘Works for me, I have a lot to say to these assholes.’

‘Always jumping in head first huh?’

‘You know me too well!’

A/N: Wow! Legit came up with this during work hours so I’m not sure if my ending was ok? Hope you didn’t get bored reading up till here but if you did, thank you! It’s mid week and then I just have three more weeks left till this god damn placement ends. Until then, stay tuned! 

[ratmonky]

Stranger Danger

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: non-con

AO3 Link

Don’t trust strangers on the internet.

Just like how they taught you not to walk off with someone you didn’t know, it was the first thing your parents lectured you about when you started using the family computer. Simple. Stay away from the people who tried to befriend you because they were probably out to get you.

That was why you were wary of making friends online when you first started using the computer, scared that someone might kidnap you through the screen.

Pfft, you had quite an imagination when you were little.

Your parents were also a little too paranoid, of course, you had to be careful on the internet as they told you but there was nothing wrong with making friends. The internet brought people of the same interests together and it helped many people like you who had a hard time making friends start talking to others. Especially with helping you find many sorcerer students like yourself.

You had many friends now, some you video chatted and some you even had met in person.

Today, you were going to meet another one of your friends in person. Another sorcerer college student around the same age as you. You had met Kokichi on one of those sorcerer dating websites and instantly hit it off from the moment you had met before becoming more than friends.

Although his webcam never worked or how he was always out of breath while talking to you, it didn’t stop the two of you from falling in love.

Kokichi lived in Kyoto, far away from where you lived, and trying to manage a long-distance relationship was hard. That was why he had suggested that the two of you met in Kyoto and tried to see if you felt the same about him after meeting in person. If you liked him even after meeting him in person, then your relationship could progress into something more.

You blushed thinking about moving in with him. Ahh, wouldn’t that be wonderful!

Shaking your head you tried to stop yourself from daydreaming and park your car where Kokichi had told you to. Apparently, the parking rules in Kyoto were different than in your city, you had to find a parking lot almost far outside of the city so you wouldn’t get a ticket.

It took you two hours to get here using the highway. Although you would have rather taken the train or bus, it was a lot faster to drive. It took you another fifteen minutes to get to your meeting point with him after you took a taxi.

Kokichi didn’t pick up his phone. You had been trying to reach him since this evening. You weren’t sure if he was already standing next to the alley of the bar your cab driver dropped you off a little while ago or if he was late.

Sick of waiting, you took out your pack of cigarettes and walked deeper into the alley to check. After taking a cigarette out and putting it between your lips, you lit the tip, inhaling deeply.

You were going to scold him for making you wait. A laugh escaped you at the thought of Kokichi telling you how he had explained to you that he was taking the train and it would be slower than you driving here or something along those lines.

Well, it would be a nice icebreaker.

While you were busy smoking and lost in your thoughts, sharp pain to the side of your head made you stumble forward. You dropped your cigarette and before you knew it your knees gave up under you, making you crumple to the ground as your vision went dark.

~~~

You froze. Not wanting to move or open your eyes until you could recall what had happened.

There were faint sounds of grunting. The next thing you noticed was the smell. Earthy, cold, and coppery. You tried to identify the foreign smell as you become aware of the tingling from between your legs. It had started to hurt, your hips felt sore and your eyelids felt heavier than usual.

The grunting sounds were soft and you could easily recognize the other sounds aside from it. It was like gears moving, a machine, closer to the sounds your door made when it wasn’t oiled up well, creaking and kinda ringing...

You had probably left the television on, slowly, you opened your eyes.

All you saw was dark, your back felt cold against something metallic. Your back was being roughly rubbed against your metal. What? It was hard for you to understand what was going on. With a pathetic attempt to move your legs, you only felt them being held tightly. There were splashing sounds, your ass was splashing against water. Tears started streaming down your face. you still couldn’t comprehend what was happening but you could feel it. You started to panic as the sudden realization of something thick and firm moving hastily inside you hit you hard.

Opening your eyes, you stared at a man in bandages who was kneading the soft flesh of one of your breasts, his mouth on the other, sucking your nipple in his mouth. You felt his hot tongue swirl around your nipple and an involuntary moan left your lips.

The sharp smell of the medical liquid made you nauseous as you remembered what had happened. But you had to stay calm and try to understand where you were.

You began to panic, trying to move your muscles but you could barely move. Strained, fear of the darkness drove you to move your limbs slightly. You threw your head back in shame and noticed the robot that was holding you instead of looking at the man inside the bathtub of medical liquid. Finally having your mind schooled back online, you started to notice your surroundings. First of all, you were in a cave-like place, being held by a robot by the back of your knees and the robot was moving you up and down on this man’s-

Another moan left your lips when the man’s cock hit a good spot. Glaring at the man, you tried moving your arms that hung slack by your sides but your limbs were weaker than you had realized. Your legs wouldn’t move either, your entire body felt sore.

There was nothing you could do as the robot lowered you up and on this man’s cock other than try to understand what had happened.

You stayed limp in the robot’s arms and took it as your assaulter kept furiously fucking you like a rabid dog in heat with the help of the robot. While the robot lowered you onto his cock and leaned forward for a second, you felt his hand reach to the back of your head and pull you down forcefully to crash your lips against yours as he used the same hand to run his fingers through your hair. He let out a quiet groan into the kiss and lolled out his tongue to lick your face, leaving a trail of his drool that chilled your skin. His hand in your hair crept between your bodies and he flicked a finger on your clit.

Jolting, you bit back a moan.

“The pictures on your profile didn’t do you any justice,” he spoke, planting kisses on your chest. “You’re so much prettier in person.”

Out of a sudden, it clicked.

“Kokichi?” His name broke into a moan as the robot slammed you down onto his cock. The robot was still bouncing you on his cock but to him, it wasn’t enough, he needed more. He had to feel more of you.

The robot dropped you in the bathtub, on top of Kokichi with his cock deep inside you. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck so you wouldn’t sink deeper into the bathtub. The medical liquid inside was cold, it made you shiver but Kokichi’s body was warm. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

“I can’t move my lower body without Mechamaru, I need you to comply.” His tone was impatient, the arm around you was trying to guide you to move your hips.

A grunt left you from the massive effort it took just to move your arm. Finally, you managed to move your arms, although it was heavy and almost impossible, luckily you succeeded. You shook your head, weakly pushing him away from yourself but as tiny, the bathtub was you didn’t have much space. Kokichi wasn’t going to let you move away from him either, he suddenly grabbed you and pulled you back, the liquid inside splashed from the force.

He groaned and you saw Mechamaru move again. The robot’s hands grabbed you from under your armpits, lifting you up and pushing you down onto Kokichi. He had his arm around you, moving your hips freely as he wanted since your weight had lightened thanks to his robot.

Your gummy walls clenched around his cock as you squirmed uselessly. He was breathing slowly and evenly while he carefully pulled you down for another sloppy kiss, paying no attention to your whimpers or the tears streaming down your face.

“You look so erotic when you cry,” he grunted, his hand moving to squeeze your cheeks together until your lips puckered. “Makes me wanna ruin you.”

You glared at him through your tears as he licked your tears that had streamed down to your cheeks before kissing you hungrily. He was inexperienced, you could tell from the way your teeth clashed and how desperately he tried to snake his tongue down your throat for no reason.

Mechamaru started frantically bouncing you on Kokichi’s cock, taking you by surprise. The irregular pace was gone, now, he was fucking you frenziedly, making sure that your gummy walls took the shape of his cock. After a particular spot his cock stroked, your pussy squeezed around him, causing you to moan into the kiss.

He broke the kiss, groaned loudly as your gummy walls started spasming around his cock. His bandaged hand went to grab your hip tightly to move you on his cock forcibly.

Medical fluid splashed and splattered on the ground each time you slammed yourself on his cock frantically with Mechamaru’s help.

You gasped in pleasure, your body was getting aroused. He must have noticed it because a smug grin spread on his lips before Mechamaru pounded you on Kokichi’s throbbing cock.

The knot of pleasure building in your gut quickly took over your senses, your gummy walls clenched around his cock and your muscles inside started pulsating.

Kokichi was caught off guard by your cunt trying to milk him for all he was worth. His cock twitched inside you as he lost control of Mechamaru who abruptly dropped you onto his cock. With a wanton moan, you wrapped your arms wrapped around him to balance yourself. His cock throbbed inside your pussy and thick spurts of cum burst inside your womb.

It continued coming out until you felt it overflow. As if he had been saving everything he got for this moment.

You went limp on his lap with his arm barely holding you up. Still, Kokichi managed to press a kiss against your temple, silently promising to keep you safe from the strangers on the internet from now on.

Or rather, he wanted to keep you for himself. Kokichi, as someone who had grown up on the internet, was desensitized to many things. He had no idea how women worked and most of the things he had learned about sex were from hardcore porn. Sometimes from even a more disturbing genre of porn. Having you here with him was something he had planned for a long time. He had been patient, patient, and patient. There was no way he was going to let you go. No, not when he finally had a taste of you. He wasn’t going to be only an internet friend or someone you met online who you got to be more than friends. He was going to be something a lot more than that. Perhaps, a boyfriend. Yeah, that had a nice ring to it.

One thing was for sure, the two of you weren’t going to be in a long-distance relationship anymore.

[polaroid15]

Parker Luck

Summary: Two weeks after the Vulture-incident, Tony buys a parenting book. Too bad there isn't a chapter on Parker luck.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

------

Two weeks after the Vulture fiasco, Tony buys a book called ‘Parenting for Dummies’.

He almost immediately regrets the purchase and hides it in a drawer in the lab, not yet brave enough to face it. Then one day he spends three hours squished against Peter’s side, listening to the boy ramble about everything under the sun while they adjust his web shooters. It hits Tony like a brick wall, and when Peter bounces out of the lab after teaching Tony a complicated handshake he knows he’ll never remember, he swears under his breath.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He had known it from that very first moment in the kid’s bedroom in Queens.

For once, denial has gotten him nowhere.

After his eyes ache from staring at the door Peter had disappeared from, Tony stands, stretches out a kink in his lower back, and grabs the book from the drawer before he can lose his nerve. Still standing, he traces his thumb over the word Parenting on the cover.

Retreat, his mind begs. Stop. Before it’s too late.

But deep down, he knows he’s already in too deep.

With a heavy sigh and a pressing warmth in his chest, Tony flips the pages to chapter one.

--------

Peter calls it ‘Parker luck’.

Tony calls it the source of his ever-increasing gray hair.

When Peter stumbles into the Tower covered in blood and delirious from a nasty hit to the head, Tony thinks he’ll pass out from the sudden weight of his worry. It only takes some gentle coaxing and seven stitches to make it better, but the unease sits in Tony’s gut long after Peter falls asleep. When the boy wakes up, he apologizes until Tony snaps at him not too.

“It’s the Parker luck, Mr. Stark,” Peter tells him, his head wrapped like a mummy on halloween. “It gets me everytime.”

Parenting for Dummies Chapter Three: Listen. “A nasty concussion doesn’t exactly sound like luck to me, kid.”

“Oh, well it’s not good luck,” Peter clarifies with a weak smile. “In fact it’s really bad luck. Exceptionally bad.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Did you know that I slipped on a banana peel once? A banana peel. I was on crutches for three weeks in middle school.”

Tony’s worry melts into a hesitant amusement. He sits back on his stiff medbay chair and makes a distant note to invest in a better one. “That is pretty lousy luck, kiddo.”

“And it just keeps getting worse,” Peter says. “Getting bitten by a radioactive spider, crashing Flash’s car, or the fact that I spent homecoming destroying a plane while fighting my date’s dad.”

“I hope this Parker luck of yours isn’t contagious,” Tony jokes, but something in Peter’s eyes darkens. He leans back against the white sheets, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony thinks again of chapter three, of the subtitle that prompts to push at the right times, and takes the liberty. “What is it, kid?”

Peter closes his eyes and gives a watery smile. “Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry.”

And because he’s an idiot, Tony believes him. Something tells him he needs to buy Parenting for Dummies 2.

--------

When Peter saves a school bus full of third graders from a thirteen car pileup at the expense of his collar bone, Tony rereads his book, this time with a highlighter in hand.

He wishes there was a section on Parker luck.

This time, he’s less careful about where he reads. Pepper catches him one night, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs in her surprise. Her smile is genuine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Maybe.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Tony rolls his eyes and dog ears his page before setting it aside. “I am, actually. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the father.”

Pepper laughs and sits on the arm of the couch. She runs her hand through his hair and he can’t help but lean into her touch. “This is about Peter,” she says.

His first instinct is to deny it. He feels vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. “So what if it is?”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“He’s making you soft.”

Tony scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Not with Parenting for Dummies on his lap. “He’s stressing me out, is what he’s doing.”

“He really cares about you, Tony. I see it every time he’s over here.”

His body betrays him by the gentle swoop in his stomach. His mouth twitches in a smile. “I care about him too.”

“You’re a good example to him. He needs someone like you in his life. Especially after what happened to his parents. And his Uncle.”

And then it clicks. Parker luck. Tony’s mouth goes dry.

“I’m trying,” is all he manages to whisper. The book in his lap seems to increase by ten.

Pepper leans over him, pressing her lips into his hair. “I know.”

---------

It’s his and Peter’s fifth mission together.

Today, they’re going up against “the Detonator”, a crazed woman with an affinity for making bombs and setting them off in busy neighbourhoods. She’s armed with a team of rocket-launcher-wielding henchmen, and it’s taking every effort to keep the city in one piece.

Most of the block has been evacuated, thanks to Peter. Tony remembers chapter seven and shoots the boy some praise over their coms. Steve, who’s joined them for the day’s fight, agrees with clipped enthusiasm.

“Thanks guys!” Peter says in his usual animation. “These rocket launchers are no joke. Have you ever seen the movie-”

But whatever it is, it’s lost in the deafening sound of an explosion. He hears Peter swear over the com and Tony’s blood runs cold. Three blocks down, an orange fireball balloons into the air. Steve is already running, his shield tucked into his chest.

Tony shoots off into the sky.

---------

Peter thought they had everything under control.

Until rocket launcher man number 3 decided to explode the bank off 47th street, that is.

He feels the heat from the explosion before he can process what happened. It rips across his back and throws him off his feet into a hot dog cart across the street. Rubble and ash rain down on parked cars and their alarms begin to sound.

“Crap,” Peter groans, shoving away the dented cart and stumbling to his feet. His ears are ringing.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice cuts through the haze. “We’re on our way. You alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds, breathless. His shoulder aches. “These guys are not in a good mood.”

“You can say that again.”

The man who had fired the shot runs up the steps of the bank, bypassing chunks of concrete. Peter limps after him.

“Sorry man,” Peter says when his opponent’s back is still turned. “It’s after hours.”

Startled, the man spins. Peter fires a web to disarm him and it only takes one swift punch to finish the job. He webs him to the floor and kicks the rocket launcher into the corner.

“Kid?” Tony lands beside him, faceplate lifting and his hands reaching to grab onto him. His grip is tight on Peter’s arms, and Peter is unsure which one of them Tony is trying to comfort. “You still in one piece?”

Peter’s ears are still ringing, a high pitched whine that makes his eye twitch. His ankle throbs and he can feel warmth spreading down his back from a cut on his shoulder. He nods anyway. “Are you?”

“Better now that I see you haven’t been barbecued.”

Steve joins them as Peter laughs off Tony’s worry. He’s breathing heavy, his forehead streaked with ash. “Someone sighted the Detonator. She’s heading east towards the Empire State Building.”

“Of course she is,” Tony sighs. Finally, he lets Peter go. “Ready for a field trip?”

But just as he says it, another violent explosion lights up the street across from them. Peter stumbles against the force. Tony grabs his arm, and Steve his shoulder, and he steadies. Through the black smoke, a child cries.

Chest tight, Peter takes a step forward before he’s yanked back. It’s Tony. His helmet hides his expression, but Peter can tell from his stiff posture that he’s worried. That he doesn’t want to separate.

As if sensing it too, Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peter and I will clear the rocket launchers. You go take care of the Detonator.”

“But-”

“She can’t get to it first, Tony. You’ll be the fastest.”

The crying continues, and Peter takes another step. This time, the metal fingers wrapped around his elbow loosen, letting him go. “You better watch him, Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

And then Tony is off, blasting off into the sky. Peter shivers against the hot air his exit leaves before turning to run towards the smoke and debris, Steve hot on his heels. Without hesitation, he jumps over the small flames and emerges on the other side, his throat closing up against the smoke.

The first thing Peter sees is the child, snot-nosed and hidden underneath the bed of a truck. His eyes widen when he sees them, a cry stopped short. “Spider-Man!” he yells.

“Get the kid,” Steve says. “I think I see our guy.”

And then he’s gone.

Peter doesn’t dwell on it, vaulting over a smashed mailbox and a stretch of broken glass to reach the kid’s side. He’s trembling, but his hands reach out. Trusting him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says, accepting the kid’s outstretched hands. “We’re okay. Do you know where your family is?”

The boy shakes his head, lip wobbling but obviously trying to be brave. “N-no. I lost them over there,” he says pointing down the street.

“Okay. No problem. Let’s go find them.”

He doesn’t give the boy an option to walk, but instead guides him to rest against his back. Small fingers lock together at the base of Peter’s throat, holding tight.

“What’s your name?” Peter asks as he heads in the direction the boy had pointed. Keep him distracted.

“Benny.”

Peter’s breath catches. “Nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I- I know.”

“Oh yeah?”

The boy’s head bobs against his back. “I see you on TV. And on the newspapers on the street. You fight bad guys.”

“I try too.”

“You’re awesome,” Benny says, and the shaking quality to his voice recedes.

“I think you’re the awesome one. You’re being so brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah, Benny. Even though it’s scary right now you’re still going.”

Benny sniffles. “Are you scared?”

“Nah,” Peter says. “I’ve got you to protect me.”

Against his back, Benny’s chest swells with a breath of a response, but before he can let the words lose a relieved cry erupts from their left. A woman in a pastel headscarf runs towards them, her arms outstretched. “Benny! My little Ben-”

“Mom!”

Peter maneuvers him to the ground and as soon as his small feet hit the ground he’s running. The pair meet in the middle of the street, their arms wrapping tight and their tears mixing. The mother’s eyes meet him from over Benny’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, every ounce of her emotion leaking into her words.

“Of course,” is all he can manage.

Once he’s sure they're safe and off the street, he deviates his attention to his coms. “Steve?” he asks over a private channel. “Where are you?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t respond. Then just as Peter’s worry spikes the man’s voice fills his ears, pinched and strained. “By the river. I’m cornered.”

“Karen-” Peter starts, but Steve’s location pops up on his screen before he can ask further. He changes the trajectory of his swing and just barely avoids clipping his hip on the corner of a building. Then, to Steve, “I’m on my way!”

He finds the Captain in worse shape than he had expected. He’s hunched against an upturned car, it’s tires melted from the sheer heat of the destruction on the street. His shield is raised over his head to protect him from debris raining from the crumbling buildings.

Across the road, three of Detonator's accomplices are shooting the buildings around him, shrieking with glee whenever new glass shatters. Peter glides between the chaos before landing beside Steve. He scrapes his hands on the landing.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, flinching from another loud explosion. “What do we do?”

Steve grimaces, and it’s only now that Peter sees how messed up his leg is. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, the material of his suit singed and still smoking around it.

“What the hell happened?” Peter gasps, feeling sick.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here.”

“Not with those crazy rocket guys standing guard. You can’t walk!”

“I can try.”

Adrenaline courses hot through Peter’s bloodstream. He peaks over the car and reassesses their opponents. “I can take them.”

“No. Tony said-”

“Tony isn’t here,” Peter argues. “Besides, I have my Peter tingle. I’ll be fine.”

“Peter tingle?”

“Be right back.”

“Wait!”

But Peter ducks out of cover, knowing that Steve won’t be able to stop him. He runs towards the one closest to him and hopes the element of surprise will be enough to take them down. It is, but barely, and now his cover is blown. The other two turn their weapons towards him and before he can suck in a breath, fire.

Peter swears and jumps high, the rockets whistling as they pass under his feet. They hit the edge of the sidewalk by the river, blowing it open and skipping chunks of debris into the water. Not wanting to wait for them to reload, Peter swings and takes them both out with a single kick. He lands in a messy roll, disoriented by the quickness of the fight.

“We’re clear!” he yells over to Steve, but even as he says it dread sits heavy in his gut. He takes one step towards the car before he hears it- a sharp release of air.

Fire blooms up at the base of the building closest to Steve, the crack of the impact enough to rattle Peter’s teeth and throw him to his knees. It’s the last straw. The building makes a horrible noise of grinding cement, like a scream, and Peter knows enough from experience that it’s close to collapse.

“Steve!”

He sprints to where the man is trying to limp away. His eyes find him, their blue shocking through the dust and smoke. “Peter. You have to get out of here-”

“Not without you.”

Before the man can object, Peter pulls his weight over his shoulder and makes it his burden. He wonders distantly where the fourth rocket launcher is and why they haven’t been blown sky high yet.

But then glass and cement falls down around them like rain, and Peter realizes. Because the building will finish the job for them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Steve says through ground teeth. His hold on Peter’s shoulder is bruising. “Peter, please.”

The building sways again. They have a couple seconds. Nothing more.

Then Peter sees it. A manhole.

“Here,” he gasps, dropping to his knees and tearing off the cover. Every alarm bell in his head is screaming, but it’s the only option. The only way they’ll both have a chance. “Go.”

Steve drops in, disappearing into darkness and landing below with an aborted shout. Peter kicks his legs in just as the building crumbles. Fear stops the breath in his chest and he slides the rest of the way in. He falls and lands hard, head spinning, before finding Steve’s arm in the darkness and pulling him deeper into the sewer.

There’s a couple moments of silence.

And then the world erupts.

Peter will remember later how the force of the impact threw both of them off their feet and how it was impossible to keep his grip on Steve’s arm. He’ll remember the deafening noise of the building smashing onto the street above them, of the great plume of dust that filled the tunnel and blinded him.

He’ll remember falling, his legs jelly, and struggling to his knees.

He’ll remember wishing he had called Tony.

But none of it registers in the moment. There’s only terror.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“Peter. Come on. Work with me here.”

Awareness brings pain. He strays.

“Nope. No. Peter. Open your eyes.”

The voice belongs to Steve, Peter realizes in a stilted disorientation. Steve, who had been hurt. Steve, who sounds very much alive.

It’s enough for Peter to lift his heavy eyelids. His surroundings are dark, but he can see the Captain’s worried face swimming in front of him, warping in and out of focus as both of them release a breath of relief.

“Thank God,” Steve says.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, surprised for a moment by how unwilling his vocal cords are to cooperate. There’s new blood on Steve’s face and the torso on his suit is torn.

“It’s you I’m more worried about.”

“Mm. Why?”

Steve might respond, but Peter doesn’t hear it, his awareness slipping like the close of a stage curtain. Strong hands shake him and the sting of his injuries are enough for him to struggle back into wakefulness.

“Stay awake, kid. Alright? Tony is on his way. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes, but sure enough, when he tries they open. “Tony?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

There’s a tightness in his chest, and Peter coughs against it. It sparks a sharp pain behind his ribs and he curls his fingers into the ground as Steve braces him by his shoulder. His ribs are definitely broken. His leg throbs and the skin on the right side of his face itches terribly with drying blood. He blinks a couple times to try and alleviate his double vision, but it does nothing.

“What happened?” Peter asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Steve’s expression pinches like he’s just eaten something sour. “The building above us collapsed, but don’t worry about it too much. Tony will be here in a flash.”

Collapse. Peter sucks in a panicked breath and it makes him cough again. It hurts worse this time, and his vision goes gray. He comes back to himself in Steve’s lap, his whole body shuddering and then man’s hand clamped protectively against his back.

The new perspective shows Peter a growing red stain on the Captain’s side.

“Steve,” he gasps, uncoordinated fingers reaching out to press against the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not- it’s not nothing-”

Before Steve can retaliate further, their coms crack back to life. Peter winces against it, his fingers reaching up to struggle with the edges of his mask. Steve pushes his hand away. “Leave it. It’s helping filter your air.”

“Peter? Rogers?” Tony’s voice comes through in a mess of static. It reminds Peter of Ben’s favorite radio station that had been broadcasted too far to have a good connection. “I’m here. Oh Christ, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Steve’s hurt,” Peter mumbles. It’s important Tony knows.

“Rogers?”

“Just hurry, Tony,” Steve says. There’s a pressure in his voice that Peter’s too tired to translate.

“The explosion caused the river to flood. You’re under about three feet of water right now.”

“We’re airtight.”

“For now.”

Peter feels himself dip further into Steve’s lap and the man’s steadying hand is delayed. Weaker. “Peter? What did I tell you about staying awake.”

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

“Queens. I need you to put pressure on this for me. Don’t give up on me now.”

Peter groans. For once, he doesn’t care how young it makes him sound. He struggles up anyways and replaces his hand obediently over Steve’s side. It paints his hands red and he tries desperately not to think of Ben.

“Rogers-”

“I got it, Tony.”

There’s a weighted silence. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself lucid. The static in his brain reminds him of the time he had gotten stabbed, and wonders if he’s bleeding somewhere too.

“Okay. I found a weak spot. It shouldn’t cause too much damage. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

There’s another lurch of shifting rock. Peter can’t help but cry out, his muddled brain struggling to comprehend that this time, it’s to help. Then there’s a loud crash, a weak beam of sunlight, and the rush of water.

Within seconds, the cold spray is up to their waists. Peter grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against reflexive tears the biting temperature brings. It gives him a boost of adrenaline, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is more clear.

Tony is with them moments later, hovering above the water. His hands reach for Peter, but Peter shys away. “Steve first,” he pleads. “He’s bleeding-”

“You’re bleeding too-” Tony starts, but even as he says it, Steve lists dangerously to the side. His face is pale, his breathing shallow. Tony catches him by the shoulder. “Don’t move,” he tells Peter, and works to lift Steve up towards the hole.

The water is up to Peter's chest now. It steals the breath from his lungs and he scrambles to stand. Somewhere in the journey the ground above him groans and he loses his footing. He hears Tony yell out for him, feels metal hands push him hard, and then he’s completely underwater. There’s more noise. More pain.

He breaks the surface, stuttering on his breath and his teeth clattering. More sunlight has entered the tunnel, and it’s easy to piece together what had happened.

“Tony!”

Peter fights against the current to reach his mentor’s side. His suit is pinned under a large slab of concrete by his left leg, the water already sloshing up to his neck. Peter practically collapses beside him and digs his fingers under the weight, but his ribs scream in protest so violently that his vision goes white.

“Easy!” Tony yells, catching him by his arms when he falters. “Kiddo, listen to me. The suit will let me breathe for a while. You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. FRIDAY took some damage, but she’s recalibrating my boosters. I’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Peter chokes, trying again to lift the concrete keeping Tony pinned. “I won’t leave without you.”

“Peter-”

“I’m not losing you too. I can’t- I can’t-”

Tony’s voice is more gentle, his hand reaching to cradle the side of Peter’s face. “Listen to me, bud. I know this is scary. But you have to trust me. You have to go. For me.”

Peter shudders. Feels hot tears pool under the tight confines of his mask. “Told you I have Parker luck,” he says.

Tony finds it within himself to laugh. The water is at their chins. “I know, kiddo. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ve got each other now.”

“Tony-”

“Go.”

The water rises over his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to answer even if he wanted to. Then Tony’s head is submerged, and icy terror closes around Peter’s heart.

He dives under and reaches once more for the weight on Tony’s leg. He pulls and struggles and feels Tony’s hands on his arms, trying to pry him off and pull him away. The light is gone in the murky water.

Please. Please.

The concrete shifts. It takes everything in Peter not to gasp out at the pain it causes, to waste the precious air he has left.

Please.

It shifts again. Tony has given up on trying to push him off and is instead helping to lift the weight. Just a little bit more.

Peter screams, tiny bubbles escaping and carrying whatever he had left away. His body loses strength just as the concrete is alleviated. He thinks he feels Tony’s hands close around his numb body. But really he can’t be sure.

Tony is safe.

And it’s all that matters.

-------

“Peter. Don’t do this.”

“Breathe, Queens. Oh God-”

“Steve. What do I- I can’t- I can’t-”

“Keep the compressions going, Tony. Keep going okay? Don’t stop.”

“I can’t do it without him. I need him, Steve. I need-”

“Keep it together. He’s going to be fine. Right, Peter? You’re going to be fine. You just have to breathe for us.”

“Kiddo. Baby. Please.”

It’s all water down a drain.

A swirling, murky mess.

And it takes Peter with it.

-------

Parenting for Dummies: Chapter 12.

Love them unconditionally.

Tony hasn’t left his kid’s side for hours. He’s been glued to him, the boy’s limp hand pressed between his own like a lifeline even when the doctor’s had worked to splint his leg. Every breath, every rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a miracle, and Tony stares at the heart monitor until his eyes burn.

May is dozing in a recliner in the corner, her glasses crooked on her face. It’s just nearing three in the morning.

There’s movement behind him, and Tony turns to find Steve. He’s traded his hospital gown for a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt, the skin on his arms wrapped with thick bandages. The Captain turns and sees May. When he speaks, his words are almost a whisper. “How is he?”

Tony shrugs, a sudden lump monopolizing in his throat. “He’ll be okay.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No.”

Steve sighs. He limps to Tony’s side, but still manages to keep some distance. “He was brave today.”

“If by brave you mean dumb, then yes.”

“He saved our lives. We both know that you wouldn’t have been able to blast out of there by yourself.”

Dread sits heavy in Tony’s gut, because it’s true. He would’ve said anything to get Peter to safety. His blasters weren’t recharging. Weren’t even close to functioning.

But the kid had been too selfless for his lie. Really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised.

And now every time he closes his eyes he sees Peter. Hurt, small, Peter. Jerking with the last of his energy to free Tony. Of going limp in the water, no more air leaving his lips and remaining totally unresponsive as Tony fought to return the life to him.

“I wish it didn’t have to be him,” Tony says.

“But it is. It was.”

“I know.”

Steve lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He’s too tired to flinch away from it. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

And then he leaves.

Tony runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles. “Wake up,” he says. Pleads.

But with his usual stubbornness, Peter doesn’t show signs of waking for another hour. First his fingers twitch. Then he groans. His eyelids flutter and Tony nearly collapses in his relief. Soft and weary eyes turn to find him, and Peter’s lips turn into a smile.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea how angry I am with you right now,” Tony says, but any heat behind his words is lost behind his relief. Peter must see it because his smile only widens.

“You don’ look angry.”

“Furious?”

“Nope.”

“Enraged?”

Peter laughs, then winces. He looks down and notices Tony’s hand clamped on his own. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter looks up. Tony tightens his hold.

“Maybe I don’t have Parker luck after all.”

“We’re breaking the cycle,” Tony agrees. He lifts Peter’s hand and presses a firm kiss to the back of his hand. Peter smiles again.

“Pepper told me you bought a parenting book,” he says, eyes drooping.

“That woman is nothing but a liar.”

“Mm. I believe her.”

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but whoever would want to willingly parent a danger seeking, heart attack inducing kid like you would have to be crazy.”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I guess that means you're crazy.”

Tony’s heart compresses with warmth. “Yeah kid,” he says, “I guess I am.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jungshookz]

ok so like y/n hanging out with her friends at an ice cream shop and super cute employee kook so happens to make y/n very nervous

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook (birthday boy!!!) x reader

➺ genre; marshmallow fluff level fluffy!!!! if u have a sweet tooth then this drabble is for you, jimin and taehyung are nightmare friends and i don’t know why u insist on hanging out with them all the time, *clown nose honk* 

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ what to expect;  “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

“oh, god. i think you’re going to have to roll me into the car.” you groan as you place a hand over your bloated stomach, “also, i’m… pretty sure i’m nine months pregnant.”  

whoever came up with the whole ‘all you can eat buffet!’ concept must’ve been a psychopath because you feel like if you take another step you’re going to projectile vomit all the way across town

you let out a huff as you bend down and place your hands on your knees

jesus

you’re going to be siCK

“no one asked you to eat like seven servings of mac n’ cheese balls.” jimin raises a brow before rubbing your back in comforting circles

“i’m sorry, do you not hear yourself?” you twist your head before looking at him as if he just sprouted two heads on each shoulder, “mac n’ cheese balls. deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. all you can eat deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. with a tangy chipotle-ranch dip on the side!”  

“alright, i get it.” he snorts before rolling his eyes, “i’m guessing this means you’re not in the mood for dessert anymore?”

you immediately stand up straight before giving your stomach a couple of pats, “where are we going for dessert??”

you’re ALWAYS in the mood for dessert

your first stomach might be full of food but your second stomach is completely empty

the monster inside your second stomach demands something sweet!

“well, scoops is right across the street. i heard the ice cream there is pretty good!” taehyung chirps before pointing at the ice cream place

you immediately feel your heart fall out of your ass

you usually never say no to ice cream but uh

there’s one reason why you’d prefer to go someplace else

jimin glances back when he notices you’re not following them to cross the street

he raises a brow before tilting his head, “if you actually need to puke, the garbage bin is right the-“

“i’m fine, i just-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “why do we have to go for ice cream?? there’s a frozen yogurt place a couple blocks away… and frozen yogurt is just as good!”

jimin and taehyung exchange glances before the two of them look back at you

“weren’t you the one who said that frozen yogurt was just a sad, watered-down version of ice cream and that the day you asked to go for frozen yogurt was the day we should execute you via cruel, unusual punishment?”

“yeah, and the cruel, unusual punishment was to force you to eat frozen yogurt?”

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek

damnit

they’re right

you friggin’ hate frozen yogurt

“ooh, check it out!” jimin gasps, his eyes lighting up, “strawberry-rhubarb pie. i wonder how they turned a pie into an ice cream flavour!”

“uh-huh, yeah…” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes flitting around behind the large counter

okay

okay!

this is fine

everything is fine

maybe today is his day off something!  

hopEfully today is his day off because you are literally about to pop a button on your jeans and the last person who you’d want to have witness that would be-

“good evening, folks!” you practically jump out of your skin and you instinctively duck behind taehyung when he seems to pop out of thin air

he smiles brightly as he props his arms up on the top of the display case, “just give me a holler whenever you’re ready.”

okay

we should probably rewind a little bit

‘he’ would be… well, the person you’re currently hiding from.  

you don’t know much about him besides the fact that his name is jungkook (the name tags here are comically large, by the way. it’s actually a little ridiculous. it’s like the employees think all the customers are blind and that’s why they made their name tags the size of a baby’s head.) and every time you come here he gives you extra hot fudge on your ice cream and also he’s very veRY cute

you usually come here after you finish submitting an essay or doing a live presentation as a way to reward yourself

because why live life if you’re not going to treat yourself every now and again??

you started this tradition at the beginning of the year and originaLLy you went to the only ice cream place on campus

unfortunately, the ice cream place on campus isn’t super great

their waffle cones are always stale and the ice cream pretty much melts as soon as you take a step outside of the store

and you werE going to give up and just find another place (your second option was the ice cream at mcdonald’s but that’s actually kind of sad now that you think about it) but!!!!

you felt like you deserved to have good ice cream!!!

so you googled the best ice cream parlours in the city and scoops was one of the only ones that was the closest to campus

only a ten minute bus ride away and you didn’t even have to transfer to another bus or anything

it was pretty much a dream come true!!

and you still remember the first time you wandered in here because you were greeted veRy enthusiastically by jungkook

you were pretty much the only person in the store on that day because it was like 2pm on a tuesday which made it hard to believe that this place was as popular as it sounded

to be fair, 2pm on a tuesday isn’t really the normal time to grab a cone of ice cream so there’s that

“you’re not striking me as the cookies ’n cream type. that seems a little too basic for you…” jungkook mutters as he stroked at his chin thoughtfully, “and i’m not getting a rocky road vibe from you, either…”

“is that so?” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smile and you cross your arms as you begin to make your way down the counter, jungkook slowly following you from where he’s standing, “what kind of vibe are you getting from me?”

“red velvet cake!” jungkook stops in his tracks to point at the tub of red velvet ice cream sitting in the display case, “in a brownie waffle cone… with hot fudge on top.”

your brows perk up in interest

red velvet cake ice cream

in a brownie waffle cone

with hot fudge on top?

…that sounds like something you’d devour in three seconds flat.  

you obviously ended up enjoying the ice cream, and from that moment on, you promised yourself that this would be your place to celebrate your little victories

so, yeah!

the ice cream was good and the cute boy was just a bonus

of course… there is one tiny detail that has to be addressed

if it wasn’t already painfully obvious by now - jungkook makes you extremely nervous.

you’re not sure how it started, because you were literally fine when you first met him

the nerves appeared without warning of any kind!!

it was very strange

one day jungkook’s smile suddenly made your heart skip a beat and you had nO idea why because it had never done that before

and another time, when he told you that you were his favourite customer, your stomach started doing somersaults which was also something that your stomach had nevER done before

ooh, AND that one time when he said that he’d make a fresh batch of brownie waffle cones just for you… well, you were pretty much ready to marry him right then and there.

sure, when you saw the occasional attractive person on the street, you’d have the usual ‘oh, they’re pretty cute!’ thought, but that’d be it and then you’d never think about them again

but it was different with jungkook

it was more intense with jungkook

this wasn’t just a little schoolgirl crush.,,. this was,.., this was a schoolwoMAN crush

you initially thought that all these brand new feelings combined with the tingly feeling of chocolate syrup pumping through your veins should’ve been enough to scare you away from scoops forever, but…

the only reason why you keep swallowing your nerves and coming back is because the ice cream is really good here (five gold stars on google reviews!!) aND you can’t say no to extra hot fudge on the house!!!

sometimes jungkook surprises you with a couple brownie chunks or marshmallows or even cheesecake chunks on top without ever charging you which is also really nice of him

not to mention, on the days that you end class a little earlier, you like to come here to get some studying done

you have your own little table in the corner and jungkook always brings you a little treat to enjoy during your study session

nothing huGe like your usual red velvet brownie waffle hot fudge combo because you told him that you were only allowed to eat that if you were celebrating something, so he usually brings you a little cup with a random flavour of ice cream in it

strawberry shortcake

cinnamon toast crunch

banana milk is a really good one

and you can’t noT mention the chocolate-covered strawberries ice cream

the ice cream is a tangy strawberry base with swirls of dark chocolate in it and it is truly.,,. truly one of the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth

you just don’t understand why your knees get so wobbly and your palms get sO sweaty every time he flashes that handsome smile of his in your direction

you see plenty of attractive people every day on campus!

you see plenty of attractive people every day in your lectures!

your two friends are a couple of attractive people as well!!

at one point you even had crushes on boTh jimin and taehyung!! 

(you will be taking that information to your grave because if they find out.,,. you’ll never live it down)

so why is this any different??

“so, i’m gonna go with the strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… and-“ jimin turns to look at taehyung (and you, currently peeking at jimin over taehyung’s shoulder), “what are you guys getting?”

your eyes widen and you duck down again when jungkook leans over to look at you and taehyung

“i’m gonna go with… the dark chocolate and caramel swirl… in a plain waffle cone.” taehyung nods affirmatively, “yeah. take the order now before i overthink it.”

“one strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… one dark chocolate and caramel swirl in a plain waffle cone…” jungkook mumbles to himself as he rinses the ice cream scooper in the little bucket of water before tapping it off on the side, “-and one red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top, right, y/n?”

boTh taehyung and jimin’s heads nearly snap off when they turn to look at you

taehyung steps out of the way and you freeze like a deer in headlights

maybe if you just… stay very still… jungkook won’t see you…

a good two seconds ticks by before you figure that you probably look like an idiot right now

“um-“ you straighten up a little before smoothing your sweater down, “i… yep! that… yep. sounds good.”

jungkook smiles brightly before nodding, “alright! just give me a couple of minutes to get that ready for you guys.”

your heart starts to drum away in your chest as you watch the back of jungkook’s head

even the back of his damn head is attractive

it’s not fair!!!!

“…i feel like there’s something we’re missing here.” taehyung is the first one to speak up and you force out a chuckle before shaking your head

time to do what you do best

D E N Y

“there’s nothing you’re missing here!” you snort, “he just- i’ve been here like, once or twice, so-“

“red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top sounds a little too specific for you to have only been here once or tw-“ jimin pauses and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “oh my god.”

your brows knit together in concern, “wh- what?”

a smile begins to creep onto jimin’s face and your mind begins to race with what he could possibLy be thinking when suddenly- “you slept with him!” jimin gasps before whacking tae’s arm multiple times, “she slept with him!!!”

“wha- NO- no, i did not sleep with jungk-!” you lower your voice when you realise that there are children in here and you lean in, “i didn’t sleep with him. i just- i come here a lot, and- i don’t know. he’s nice! a-and he’s cute. he’s- he’s nice and he’s cute. and he gives me free things, sometimes.”

“…yeah, i think she’s telling the truth. she definitely didn’t sleep with him.“ taehyung shakes his head and you let out a sigh of relief

at least someone’s on your side here

you jolt when taehyung suddenly gives you a hearty sLAp on the back, “she’s just in love with him and doesn’t know how to tell him-“

OH my go-

“hey, your ice creams are ready for you!” jungkook, once again, seemingly pops out of thin air and the thrEE of you immediately split up the mini football huddle, “i have them for you at the cash register if you wanna come over and get them! y/n, i tried something new with your cone - i wrapped marshmallow fluff around the top and then caramelised it so it’d turn into, like, a s’mores situation-”

“y-yep! i’ll be right there-“ you hold a finger out and jungkook nods before heading over to the cash register

you turn to look at jimin and taehyung and scowl when the two of them begin to make kissy noises at each other

“oh, y/n, come to the back so i can show you my cone-“

“you can fluff my marshmallows any day of the week, jungkook-“

oh, god

see????

this was exaCTLY why you didn’t want to come here!!!!

in case this happened!!!!!

“oh my god, lemme drizzle my syrup all over your face, baby-“

“okay, c’mon, that’s enough-“

“roll me up like how you roll those waffle cones with your big, strong arms-“

jesus christ

children!!!!!!!

they are both chiLdren!!!!

boys are so GROSS

jungkook waits patiently by the cash register as his fingers drum against the marble countertop

he leans over to peek at you and your friends and smiles lightly when he sees you whaCk at one of them

to be honest, he liked you the moment you stepped into the shop for the first time

he still remembers how excited you were when you were looking at all the different flavours

according to the company policy, customers are only allowed to try four samples but jungkook’s pretty sure he let you try twenty samples on that day

after the first time you came here, he was actually pretty worried that he’d never see you again??

he was pretty bummed about it for a while because he wished that he would’ve asked for your number or something while you were here but he was too busy trying to be the charming ice-cream boy anD he was also pretty busy admiring your cute face

so he was very much pleasantly surprised when you came back a week later and was fully ready to let you go ham on the samples again

>:-)

but, again, he didn’t ask for your number that time around either because he couldn’t figure out a smooth way to ask you

and he wasn’t worried about you noT coming back because you seemed like a pretty big ice cream person

the point is: jungkook’s had plenty of opportunities (practically handed to him on a silver platter) to ask for your number so that he can finally ask you OUT and… he hasn’t.

but today!!!!

today will be different!!!!

today he’ll finally make his move!!!

he’s not giving himself an option!!!

he actually wasn’t expecting you in today because you usually pop up every two weeks or so and you came in last week

at first he thought that maybe you were dating one of the boys that you came in with but from the looks of it, the vibes are very much platonic and not at all romantic

so he thinks he’s in the clear here

jungkook straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little bit when he sees you walking over

okay

operation: finally ask y/n for her number, you pussy is undERWAY

“well, i’m going to go and pay for your guys’ ice creams and you can just continue to make fools of yourselves-!”

by the time you make your way over to the cash register, jimin and taehyung are stiLL going at it but you’re hoping that jungkook won’t pay it any mind

“alright, how much do i owe you?” you ask as you pull your debit card out of your wallet, “this ice cream is the only thing i’m willing to break my wallet over-“

“actually, all of this is on the house today.” jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, “it’s the special birthday discount!”

?

you tilt your head

what special birthday discount?

“birthday discount?” you ask dumbly, “it’s not my birthday, though.”

“no, it’s not your birthday… but it’s my birthday.” jungkook clears his throat, “and… you know, i wanted to do something nice for you!”

“okay, well, first of all- happy birthday!” you smile brightly before that smile immediately drops from your face, “and, second of all- i can’t take this for free, jungkook- you even sprinkled those fancy toasted pecans on top of taehyung’s ice cream! i have to give you something-“

jungkook swallows his nerves

it’s now or never!

“there is… one thing you could give me…” he trails off, his voice starting to grow a little quiet

okay

the confidence is beginning to dwindle a little so he should probably get to the point 

“yeah, i can think of one thing- like money??” you stick your debit card out again and jungkook rolls his eyes playfully before whacking your hand away

okay

just say it

just say it!!!!!!

“no, not money…” jungkook swallows thickly before shaking his head, “i was thinking more along the lines of… you know, your number.”

you drop your debit card on the countertop with a clatter

“my-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and you feel your cheeks immediately turn bright red, “you- you want my number?”

jungkook… jungkook wants your number?

you feel like money would be better than your number, but that’s just your humble opinion

“i mean- you obviously don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to! i-i’m not trying to imply that you owe me anything, i just-“ jungkook pauses for a second and his tongue pokes out to swipe over his bottom lip nervously, “i just, um, i don’t know! i… i really… enjoy your company, whenever you come in for a visit, you know? and i think you’re really pretty, so there’s that. i dunno.”

well, he can safely say that his self-proclaimed boyish charm flew out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth

why’s he so nervous all of a sudden??

he’s practiced this in front of the mirror a doZEN times

and every time he hits on himself in the mirror he’s tempted to give himself his number

that’s how good he is at flirting!!

but here he is!!! 

fumbling over his words!!! 

shoving his clammy hands into his pockets!!! 

diverting his gaze from the pretty girl who he’s been dreaming about ever since the first time he laid his undeserving eyes on her!!!

“no, no-! i just-“ you smile shyly as you slide your debit card back into your wallet with clumsy hands, “i would absolutely love to give you my number! it’s just that i- i didn’t- i didn’t think that you… liked me like that.”

jungkook looks up at you before scoffing playfully, “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

you press your lips together before flashing a sheepish smile at him, “i mean… i was probably paying more attention to the ice cream than to you.”  

jungkook snorts

he should’ve seen that coming. 

(p.s. he heard every single word of what your friends said earlier and this is just his dumb icky sleazy boy brain speaking but he’d be down to drizzle his syrup on ur face if you allowed him to) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[violetsoju]

let’s go on a ride (where to)彡★

suna rintaro · fluff? · 3.1k

a/n: here’s a cookie for you if you can guess correctly from which song i got inspired by 🍪 (hint: it’s from a female soloist!) do let me know if you enjoyed it!  ❤️

The first time you got on his bike was when you were late for your finals. Being the ironically procrastinator and overachiever you are, you dunked 3 cups of coffee the previous night in attempt to stay up drilling pages and pages of chemical processes and reactions, along with the insane number of structures and behaviours of molecules that seemed to stretch on forever into your poor cramped brain. So when you woke up to your clock staring at you with its long hand 20 minutes away from the scheduled time of your doom, you knew you were indeed, doomed. Your shouts and failing hands to the bus driver fell on deaf ears, leaving you gasping for air, hands on your knees as you reached the now empty bus stop.

You were about to make a run for it when a motorbike pulled up beside you, a male voice catching your attention. “Hey.”

You turned to see fox-like eyes staring back at you, one which had you intrigued since the first encounter. Even though his other features were hidden beneath his helmet, the boy clad in black on the bike was undoubtedly, your next-door neighbour.

“Get on my bike, let’s go.” he said, throwing a helmet in your direction.      

Despite living right next door, the both of you never had a conversation with each other. You don’t really see each other too, in your defence. Normal greetings would just be a small nod of acknowledgement, sometimes with a small ‘hi’ if you were feeling sociable enough.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

“Where to?” he asked, as you climbed onto the back seat.

“Hyogo University, please.” You grabbed on the rail bar behind, praying that you won’t somehow fall off.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you missed the bus, because weaving through unusual heavy traffic on two wheels was definitely more efficient than being stuck on four wheels. You yelped as you almost lost your balance from the zigzag drive, instinctively grabbing hold of his waist as you both zoomed past the congested roads.

Never in your life had you been so happy and relieved at the sight of your university. Jumping off the bike, you were about to sprint to your faculty when you stopped midway at your tracks at his call.

“Hey! My helmet!”

Turning back meant risking having the examination doors being slammed in your face. “I’ll return it to you later!” you shouted, waving the back of your hand towards him as you dashed to your examination venue.

Later that night, the boy found the sides of his lips tugging upwards slightly, huffing a breath from his nose in amusement at the sight of his helmet hanging on doorknob of his apartment. It was filled with packets of choco pie and a small yellow note in it.

「 Thank you so much for today! I got to my examination venue right on time thanks to you. Please let me know when you’re free. I’d like to treat you to a meal as a gesture of appreciation, these treats obviously aren’t enough.

-Your next-door neighbour 」

He opened a packet of choco pie and folded the small piece of paper neatly into the pocket of his jeans, making his way into his apartment.

Your eyebrows arched in surprise when you locked your front door the next morning. There was a small green note stuck on your door, along with a box of chocolate koala march biscuits secured tightly with tape.

「 It’s not a big deal. Now we’re even, so save that for something else. 」

                                     ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 The second time you got on his bike was on the way home from your job interview. You knew your heels were to go, and you should have gotten a new pair soon. But being the last-minute shit you were, you prayed with all your heart for it to survive on you till the end of the day.

Well, to be fair, it did cooperate with you for most of the day, besides than the awful blisters on the back of your heel and toes. It only gave up on you after the interview that went wrong (allocated interview slot being postponed and postponed, the central air-conditioning blasting like the North Pole, and what was it with companies and their ridiculous prejudice towards young women and maternity leaves), when your right heel got stuck in a sewage drain cover, snapping into half when you used too much force to get it out.

Then it rained. And of course, you left your umbrella at home as there were no indications of rain when you checked the weather forecast. Maybe the rain felt like giving the sun, along with the weather bureau, a surprise that day.

And maybe it felt like it had its fair share of fun after seeing your miserable state, drenched in its merry little splatter and your own infuriation, as it bid the sun goodbye and went back home once you got off the bus to your neighbourhood.

So here you were, walking barefoot on the scorching yet damp concrete pavement back home, adding more damage to your open wounds. Well, what other choice did you have? It’s not like you would break the other heel into half to balance it out, right?

The stares and hushed whispers around you couldn’t much compare to what was going through your mind now. Heck, you couldn’t even care less of how you looked. Smudged makeup and faint colour of your innerwear peeping beneath your now see-through white blouse were the least of your worries now. All you wanted was to get home, fill the tub with warm water, turn on some music, and let all the frustration built up in you sink away through the evening.

Walking around the last block of shops, you kept your eyes on the pavement, not noticing a familiar figure leaning against the wall a few shops ahead.

“Hey.”

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts, you didn’t realise a human wall up ahead.

“Hey!”

You winced at the sudden impact from the body slam, snapping up to find a boy around your age towering over you, alluring fox eyes meeting yours. “Sorry,” you muttered, stepping aside to continue on your way.

A warm hand grabbed hold of your arm, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden touch. He had his head tilted slightly to his left, his usual blank face staring back at you. But the hint of concern that subtly flickered in his eyes as he silently inspected you from head to toe made you stop in your tracks.

Maybe it was the series of incidents that happened throughout the day that had your mind spiraling in turbulent directions, or maybe it was the delicate warmth in his eyes that seemed so inviting, it wasn’t a bad idea to linger in it for a while. Whatever the reasons were, he was granted the rare permission to take a small peek through the faint cracks of your hardened shell, into the dark fiery void that held you hostage.

You kept your eyes glued on the ground as he kept his gaze on you, curling your bruised toes together against the hard concrete, contemplating if you made the right decision.  

Once he was done with his inspection, he moved towards his bike parked by the side of the pavement, grip still on your arm, and dug out for an extra helmet underneath the seat of his bike. He placed the helmet over your head, featherlike fingers brushing against your skin as he secured the straps around your chin gently.

“Get on, let’s get home.” he said, tapping the top of the helmet as if he was patting a little girl’s head.

The journey home was silent, in a comfortable way, and you were grateful that he kept his curiosity to himself.

He dropped you off at the lobby entrance of your apartment, nodding in acknowledgement as you returned the helmet while mumbling an audible thanks. You should’ve waited for him to take the elevator back up to your floor together, but you were just so bloody done for the day. At least you pressed the ground floor button as you exited the elevator.

                                         ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 The third time you got on his bike was after dinner one night. You were at the nearby convenience store in your pjs, a bowl of hot oden in hand, staring out at the night through the glass window. Late night convenience store runs were the best, because most people would be snuggled up in their homes, leaving the world to those like you to enjoy in peace in quiet.

You were on your third fish cake skewer when an unexpected presence made its way next to you. Gleaming hazel eyes locked with yours, and you found yourself unconsciously lost in it again.

He placed a plastic bag filled with an assortment of jelly fruit sticks on the table, savouring a purple coloured one in hand. You chuckled at this new side of him. This wasn’t quite something you pictured him to be.

He turned to you questionably. “Is there a problem?”

You shook your head. “Not at all, I’m just surprised with this new information.” You offered a fish cake skewer to him.

He gave you a green coloured jelly fruit stick in return. “There’s no age limit for these, are there?”

“Nope, you’re more than welcome to enjoy them,” You peered at the plastic bag. “Can I have the red one instead?”

“Picky.” he jokingly huffed.

The both of you enjoyed the rest of the night by the windowsill, making comfortable small talk here and there.

It was past midnight when you both made your way out of the convenience store. “Do you usually walk back alone at this time?” he asked, rummaging his pocket for his bike keys.

“Yeah, but not to worry, I can protect myself quite well. Ain’t no damsel in distress.” You jiggled your self-defense kit attached to your house keys at him.

He hummed in agreement, handing you a helmet. “My younger sister has a set of that too. That pepper spray is no joke.”

“What did you do to piss her off?” You fastened on the helmet strap nimbly, climbing onto the now familiar backseat.

“I was her guinea pig to test if it worked. And damn it worked well. 5-star rating.” The bike engine roared, muffling your laughs and off the both of you went in the night.

You furrowed your brows when he drove past by the turn to your apartment. “Hey, you missed the turn!”

“Buckle up, we’re going on an adventure.”

Apparently, his so-called adventure was to the neighbourhood hilltop which you had never dragged your lazy ass up to hike before. There wasn’t much to see in the dark surroundings, maybe it would be better in the day.

“For a moment I thought you were gonna abduct me or something.”

“By a guy that eats jelly fruit sticks at this age? Plus, you’re not even worth a bag of jelly fruit sticks.”

He fake coughed as you shoved the helmet in his chest playfully in retaliation.  

The hilltop wasn’t that high, but high enough to overlook the charming neighbourhood below. Looking at your neighbourhood from a different perspective made you appreciate it more. The quaint coffeeshops, the now quiet primary school, the lush recreational park, they all looked so small from the top. So this is what birds see from the top, you thought.

Placing your hands on the wooden fencing, you closed your eyes for a moment to enjoy the cool breeze caressing your face, taking in a long, deep breath. Even the air up here was clearer.

You turned behind to find him lying on the grass with one knee up, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the black canvas above. You took your place comfortably next to him, mimicking his actions. A soft gasp escaped your lips, taken aback by the view displayed before you.  

Maybe it was the cold reality and gradual maturity along with age that had your mind conditioned to thinking only the glowing lights of the city lit up the dark night skies. Long had you forgotten the existence of the scattered diamonds shining up above; one that lit up the skies and your eyes as a child, one you dreamt of picking from the sky to replace the plastic fluorescent ones on the celling of your nostalgic childhood room.

It was simple pleasures like this that kept boundless curiosity and imagination run wild, that made each day enjoyable and fun, that made one realise how beautiful life could be.

And to remind one how important it is to live in the present.

“Do you know how to identify constellations?”

“I only know the name of my zodiac sign, if that counts.”

“No.”

You chuckled at the small pout that formed on his lips.

“Don’t you think it’s amazing how people in the olden days could navigate their way with just a few blinking dots in the night sky? I don’t even know how to use a compass.”

“That’s why we have Google maps now.”

“Can you be a lil bit more enthusiastic?”

“You can’t deny that what I said is true, can you?”

It was his turn to chuckle at your exasperated sigh.

“Have you seen a meteor shower before?”

“Yeah, once I think.”

“Did you make a wish?”

“I guess so.”

“Has the universe granted your wish then?”

“A secret shall remain a secret.”

You hummed in response.

Truth to be told, the both of you were keeping secrets from each other: your identities. Sure, you both knew each other as next-door neighbours, but what else?

Perhaps he has the upper hand here. He knows you’re a university student from the first ride on his bike, he (somehow) knows you’re searching for a job from the second ride, and now he knows your little late night konbini run affair. All you know about him is that he rides a bike and likes jelly fruit sticks.

But you don’t mind. In fact, you like this anonymity. It’s what makes the relationship between the two of you more engaging, precious and real. You could let down your guard with him. No judgements, no defensive barriers, no facades.

Sure, you would be curious about his background at times. Is he the same age as you? Is he a fellow struggling university student like you? Or has he plunged into the battlefield called work already? But if you could be you wholeheartedly, and he could be him wholeheartedly too, that’s what matters the most at the moment.

“Are you certain that you made your wish correctly?”

“Are there procedures for making wishes upon shooting stars?”

“Duh. You gotta look up to the night sky, close your eyes, clasp your hands together, then make your wish. That’s how it works.”

“You could shake hands with my younger sister and be sappy drama sisters.”

“Maybe that’s why your wish hasn’t come true yet.”

“I’m not falling for your trap.”

                                       ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 “Man, I can’t believe nothing came out from what I studied for the whole week. Nothing. My feelings have been cheated on.”

Atsumu and you were currently slumped over the table at the convenience store next to the university, each with a hotdog in hand, along with an array of snacks scattered across the table. The both of you had just finished your classes for the day, and instead of grabbing proper dinner, you both were stuffing yourselves with junk food like children.

As to quote Atsumu, “Where’s the joy in life in blindly following the rules? Rules were meant to be broken. And it’s not like we do it every day.”

“Giving up so quickly? What happened to the ‘new semester new me resolution’, huh.”

Atsumu slammed his face on the table, groaning in distress. “Everything’s a scam. Life is a scam.”

You huffed out a small laugh at his exaggeration, eyes riveting back to the bustling street outside the window. Groups of students making their way to the bus and train station, couples choosing their dinner place hand-in-hand after work, a line forming outside the newly opened sushi place that served sushi on a mini bullet train. A typical Thursday evening.

A familiar jet-black bike among the line of bikes lined up by the pavement in front of the convenience store caught your sight. Oh?

Your mouth must’ve worked faster than your brain as Atsumu looked up to face the same direction you were looking at. “What yer looking at?”

“Oh, Suna must be around here somewhere. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Suna, huh. Nice name.

“That’s one sexy looking bike, isn’t it? I always wanted a ride, but dude always speeds off even before I have the chance. Treats it like his wife. Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone one ride it besides him.”

“Poor you, it’s a really nice ride.”

“The engine sounds amazing too- Wait. Wait a hot second. You rode it before? How? You know Suna?” Atsumu’s energy switch was turned back on, eyes wide like saucers as you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“He’s my next-door neighbour, duh.” Atsumu swore he was so close to throwing hands at your nonchalant attitude on the matter.

“Speaking of the devil, there he is.”

Suna emerged from the bakery on the opposite street, a bag of freshly baked goods in hand. Crossing the busy road to your side of the street, a glint of surprise gleamed in his eyes at the sight of both of you through the window, mostly from the shock and betrayal expression of the blond. He nodded to Atsumu in greeting, which was replied with Atsumu barking questions at him from the inside.

“What the hell, Suna? We’ve been friends for so long and I’ve never had a ride before, and she gets a ride? Really, Suna? I thought we’re more than this-”

“You know he can’t hear you from outside, right?” Atsumu paused to stare at you for a moment, and continued shooting questions and making dramatic gestures to the boy grinning slyly at him outside.

Suna turned his eyes to you, tipping his head towards his bike. Wanna go home?

You gave him a smile. Yeah, sure.

You got up from your seat and shoved half of the snacks on the table into your bag. “Later, Atsumu.” You bid the blond goodbye, patting his shoulder in condolence as he gawked at the both of you like endangered animals in the zoo.

“Suna you lil shit.”

Maybe you weren’t only getting rides back home on his bike, maybe you were getting a ride into his heart too.

[queenmuzz]

So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....

So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesn’t respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesn’t mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesn’t run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the man’s room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.

“What’s going on Nero?” Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. “You haven’t been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.”

Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. “It’s dad… I know you told me I need to be patient,” his face scrunches up at the word, it’s a thing he’s never been able to truly do. He’s definitely a Sparda boy. “But he just keeps ignoring me. He won’t talk, won’t even look at me. It’s like I don’t even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesn’t want me to exist-”

“Hey now!” Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every bar’s entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? “Your dad...well, even without the stuff he’s been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.” “But that’s the thing, Uncle Dante!” Nero blurts out, close to tears. “He DOESN’T DO ANYTHING!!! He doesn’t care!” And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergil’s room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Eva’s portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Nero’s room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when he’s in an ornery mood. It’s time to talk to his dad.

Vergil, or what’s left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If he’s heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.

“Verg,” he calls out, “I know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. I’m not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, but…” Dante’s not good at this sort of thing. He’d rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now it’s with a cheery smile. “The kid needs a sign that you’re still there, you’re still fighting. I know you are, hell, you’re the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But that’s the thing, Nero’s only heard things that you’ve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwise…” Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows it’s fruitless to continue much more, “you’re gonna lose him too.” And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergil’s room, as if his brother had just moved.

--

Nero sits at Dante’s desk, working on his math homework. It’s his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but he’s gone out on an ‘Really quick, won’t be more than a half hour’ errand run. It’s been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad… so Nero is practically by himself.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. He’s still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when they’re really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. He’s never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. He’s disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. “FIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!” One says, before turning in Nero’s direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.

Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monster’s waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, “Impressive!” but doesn’t have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Nero’s pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.

The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.

Nero’s first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Dante’s come to save me! But what’s odd is that there’s no sound of Dante’s beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesn’t matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as he’s quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for years…

Nero

And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Nero’s ever heard.

--

Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldn’t say no. Besides, he’d pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but he’d forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.

So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. There’s no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.

“Alright, time to spill your guts” he yanks the blade up so that he’s at eye level with the pommel, “What the hell happened here?” Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.

“I swear to…” he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), “You’re gonna tell me what went down, or we’re gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.” “You told us to remain silent.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.” “There was an attack.” Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, “The little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.” Dante’s blood goes cold. “But then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.”

“Rudra’s still with Nero?” That’s odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, they’d disarm him first.

“Yes, they are not far, I think they’ve stopped moving.”

“Alright,” Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, “let’s go find the kid and your bro...and if he’s alright, maybe I’ll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? It’s been so long since we’ve fought, we crave batt- ”

“I said IF, and I won’t guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.”

--

Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, it’s turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. There’s Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil… And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, there’s a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.

Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything is now ruined.

Chapter 22: Then It Ended

As soon as we came, Annabeth ang Grover tackled me. We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls— Percy told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up. Percy being the son of Poseidon, he didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

As I was still unclaimed, Hermes cabin had made me one. (Just... IDK go crazy with your shroud IG) It was fun to burn. As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Percy and I was surrounded by my Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past." The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told me they'd never forgive us for disgracing their dad. That was okay with me. Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen my spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brats didn't get themselves killed and now they'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...." Going back to the cabin I finally had time to talk to Luke. Who just expressed his relief of me being fine, and how he was scared when Annabeth told everyone about me. No wonder everyone was so shocked seeing me come back with Percy. On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors. As Annabeth, Percy and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human. "I'm off," he said. "I just came to say ... well, you know." I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. I'd only known Grover a year, yet he was my oldest friend. Annabeth and I gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on. I asked him where he was going to search first. "Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan ..." "We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?" "Yeah." "And you remembered your reed pipes?" "Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat." But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway. "Well," he said, "wish me luck." He gave Annabeth and I another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes. Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware. "Hey, Grover," Percy called. He turned at the edge of the woods. "Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas." Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him. "We'll see him again," Annabeth said. July passed. I spent my daysplanning out strategies with Luke for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares's hands. I got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava. From time to time, Percy and I would walk past the Big House, he'd glance up at the attic windows, and think about the Oracle.

I tried to convince him that its prophecy had come to completion. "You shall go west, and face the god who has turned." "Been there, done that—even though the traitor god had turned out to be Ares rather than Hades." "You shall find what was stolen, and see it safe returned." "Check. One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness back on Hades." "You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend." Percy recited. "Ares had pretended to be our friend, then betrayed us. That must be what the Oracle meant.... Or maybe Nereid?"

"And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end." He sighed. "I had failed to save my mom and lost you..."

"So why are you still uneasy?" The last night of the summer session came all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. Percy and I got our own leather necklace, and when I saw the bead for my first summer. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"This is so beautiful..." I smiled to Percy. "The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!" The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause. I'm not sure I'd ever felt as happy or sad as I did at that moment. I'd finally found a family, people who cared about me and thought I'd done something right. And in the morning, most of them would be leaving for the year. * * * The next morning, Luke called me. He gave me a paper, telling me to fill it out, and asked me to meet him as soon as I could. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong: Dear (WRONG NAME) , If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit. Have a nice day! Mr. D (Dionysus) Camp Director, Olympian Council #12 That's another thing about ADHD. Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face. Summer was over, and I still don't know what to do. I had no where to go to. The only option I had was Percy's or maybe Hades was not joking about inviting me back to the Underworld. Sighing I decided to just meet Luke before filling it for second opinions. The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill, where the camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport. I was walking around looking for Luke. I jumped when I felt someone tap me from behind. I instinctively unsheathed my knife and turned only to see Luke with his hands raised.

"Whoa! Calm down just me." He laughed.

"Kinda weird seeing someone laugh at a knife pointed at them." I smirked sheathing my knife.

"I only laugh since its you." He smiled and ruffled my hair. "Are you done with everything?"

"Not really. I don't know whether to leave or not yet. That's why I came. Help me?" I asked him.

He turned to me and to the forest. "How about you hear me out about something... important and private... then decide?" He gestured towards the forest.

"Not planning on killing me are you?" I squinted at him.

He gasped. "Not you. Never. I would never hurt you."

I let him lead me to a shrouded area of the forest.

"How serious is this thing that you can't let anyone see? I am blindly trusting you here Luke." I laughed nervously. But when he didn't reply I felt something was off. "Luke, okay this isn't cool. How deep into the forest do we have to go?"

"Y/N remember when you said... You want to be the person I trust...? How you promised to help me?"

"Luke?" He took my hand and pulled me sharply. I winced at how hard he pulled me. "That hurts! Let me go!"

He snapped back and let go of my wrist. "I-I'm sorry... Y/N..."

As much as I knew I had to leave, I couldn't I was worried about him. I reluctantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?"

"I did it..." I said and sat on the ground. "I swear I didn't mean to get you hurt. But, I confess to everything. I  stole bolt and helm, I summoned the hound, I gave Percy the cursed shoes... And just now, I tried to kill Percy Jackson." He looked at me with empty eyes.

I shot up and looked at him in emotions I couldn't put in words. "W-Wh---" I wanted to leave and check on Percy. But once again, seeing him right now... I need to stay with him. "Why are you telling me this...?"

"Join me... please?" his voice was weak. He sounded vulnerable. "Let's serve my Lord together..."

"L-Luke... no. I-I can't do that!" I took his shoulder, "Y-You should stay with me instead. How about that, huh? L-Let's explain to Chiron and the others... come on please. I could help you!"

Nothing was working.

"Come with me..." He muttered.

"Luke, I won't join you. You have to change your mind. You can't do this."

"I can't change my mind."

"I can help you with that? How about you go with me huh? I could spend all my time doing this and that. Please, just change your mind."

He didn't reply for a while until he whispered, "Promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"You'll stay with me."

"What? Luke I wo--"

"You won't join... Just...don't stay here for the year... and stay with me."

"I-If I stay with you... what would that mean?"

"Yo-You... might change my mind."

"I'll go." I replied with no hesitation. "I'll leave camp for the year. And I'll find my parent to prove to you that Gods and Goddess aren't all bad. We'll find my parent together."

"I do my lord's bidding--"

"You can still do it. If you want to. But whatever happens... stays only between us. I'll stay with you until I change your mind. And I'll bring you back to camp."

"I would never do anything to ruin your trust in me." He knelt down. It was kinda awkward but hey... "I need you."

Worry not hero. We shall stay.

"Please..."

We'll meet again. Wait for us, we shall join you soon. Now leave.

I had no idea what happened since when I came to Luke was gone and there was no sign of him anywhere. How were we going to st---

We will meet him once we leave. Now go as our hero needs us.

I suddenly remembered Percy's state that Luke had told me about. So I ran. I ran to the Big House

***

Percy finally opened his eyes. He was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, his right hand bandaged like a club. Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth and I sat next to Percy, I was holding his nectar glass and she was dabbing a washcloth on his forehead.

"Here we are again," Percy said. "You idiot," Annabeth said, "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing..." "Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit." He was sitting near the foot of the bed in human form. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he'd been up all night grading Latin papers. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved." "Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened." Between sips of nectar, he told them the story.

I bit my lip trying to keep what happened between Luke and I private. It was a risky move that would not be approved by anyone after all. The room was quiet for a long time. "I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him.... He was never the same after his quest."

Percy was looking at me as if checking what was my reaction to his story. "This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once." "Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him." Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—" "Won't even talk about Kronos," Percy snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!" "Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready." "Chiron... your prophecy from the Oracle... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? Y/N? And Annabeth?" Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—" "You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?" His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..." Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows. "All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!" He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing." "We can't just sit back and do nothing," He said. "We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come." "Assuming I live that long." Chiron put his hand on Percy's ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice...." I got the feeling that he had a very definite opinion, and it was taking all his willpower not to advise me. "But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision." "I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you." He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear... whenever you're ready, they're here." "Who's here?" Percy asked. Nobody answered. Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time. Annabeth studied the floor. "What's wrong?" Percy asked her. "Nothing. I ... just took your advice about something. You ... um ... need anything?" "Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside." "Percy, that isn't a good idea." Percy slid his legs out of bed. Annabeth and I caught him before he could crumple to the floor.

I said, "I told you ..." "I'm fine," He insisted.

He managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on me. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance. By the time we reached the porch, his face was beaded with sweat. But we had managed to make it all the way to the railing. It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun. "What are you going to do?" Annabeth asked us. "I don't know." Percy replied. "I got the feeling Chiron wanted me to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but I'm not sure that's what I want. I also don't want to leave you both with Clarisse only." Annabeth pursed her lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy." He stared at her. "You mean, to your dad's?" She pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver. "I wrote him a letter when we got back," Annabeth said. "Just like you suggested. I told him... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided... we'd give it another try." "That took guts." She pursed her lips. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least ... not without sending me an Iris-message? Both of you?" Percy managed a smile. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"You already know my plans."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?" "Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena."

She held out her hand. Percy shook it. She gave me a hug. "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told Percy. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

Then turned to me, "Good luck on your own quest Droopy."

"Of course Peabody." We watched her walk up the hill and join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time. She touched Thalia's pine tree, then allowed herself to be lead over the crest and into the mortal world. "I made my decision." Percy said. "What's yours?"

"I'll be leaving camp... I'm going to look for my parent..." He looked at me in shock. "I'll be back next summer," I promised him. "I'll survive until then."

"Alone?"

I smiled at him.

"Don't you want to stay with us? Mom said---"

"I want to find my parent. I need to. I'll be fine Percy."

I helped Percy to his cabin so he could pack and went to mine. To my surprise I see a middle-aged man with an athletic figure slim and fit with salt-and-pepper hair, and a very familiar sly grin. He had bags at his foot.

"Delivery for Y/N L/N."

"Uhm..."

"Hermes." He said.

I froze and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Personally packed. As a thank you for what you're about to do." He smiled softly and handed me the bags.

"H-Huh...?"

"For helping Luke."

"I..."

Don't forget her mail!

Ooh! And tell her to bring us snacks next time we meet since it'll be often now!

No it wouldn't be often! She'll be with Luke!

"Both of you keep quiet." Pulling out a mail he handed it to me. "Luke... prayed to me telling me about your plan. He asked me to help you. I don't know what or why he did it. But I know he'll change thanks to you. So do guide him."

"Sorry you lost me at the talking air..." I blinked.

Hermes laughed and showed a caduceus. "It's just George and Martha."

"Hi?"

Hello!

Hi

"I just wanted to let you know. No god or goddess could see you. No matter how hard they tried. So your secrets.. are really secrets. Good luck on your travel."

Next time we meet you should have snacks.

Then he vanished.

Staring at the letter on my hand, I was stunned seeing it was from... my mom and dad.

Sweetie,

You've made quite a friend here.

-Mom and Dad.

I immediately knew where to look. I hurriedly took my bags not bothering to check the contents. I ran to Percy's cabin and helped him out so we could leave.

Percy got a cab and looked at me worriedly.

"I'll write you. Stay safe Arthur Curry." I ruffled his hair and watched him go.

I didn't know where to go so I just went to the first secluded area I saw.

"You have more stuffs than when you arrived." I heard someone behind me.

"You prayed to your dad. I hope he knows how to pack." I sighed turning to him. Turning around I barely made out Luke from the few days I last saw him. "You okay?"

"Do you know where to look first?"

Call upon our hound.

I whistled, I don't know why. But when I did, D/N came out of the blue. Luke looked at me and my dear dog, who was probably bigger than the hound he'd summon back then. "How do feel about L.A?" I said riding on D/N and making space behind me for Luke.

~~~END OF BOOK 1~~~

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END OF BOOK ONE!!! THANK YOU FOR READING YLATHB I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! I'LL PUBLISH BOOK 2 WHEN I'M DONE OR EVEN AT LEAST HAVE WRITTEN 5 CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK 2 ;))

I HOPE TO SEE YOU NEXT TIME!!!

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

[grumpyhedgehogs]

Nameless

Virgil never uses Deceit's real name. It doesn’t have to be a thing. It’s not a thing.

It’s not.

~

They don’t actually call on Janus that much in the beginning. He supposes he understands, in a bitter sort of way; Roman is still smarting from letting him into the fold and Patton is trying to soothe everyone’s ruffled feathers and Janus is pretty sure Logan is at least a little upset that he’s been pushed to the fringes of two videos by Deceit.

Janus carefully does not think about how Virgil is taking things.

So he’s startled, just a little, when Patton rises up in his room one night. He looks just as out of place as he actually is, and Janus has a hard time not hissing at the intrusion. This is totally not his private space.

“Patton, it’s such a pleasure to see you. Please, come in, invade my personal domicile.”

“Oh thanks--wait, are you actually happy to see me? I can never tell with you.”

Patton is wringing his hands. Janus takes pity on them both and tips his hat further back to survey the other side clearly. He’s nervous, but not overly so. Not like a certain other side could be once upon a time, when he wasn’t sure he was welcome in Janus’s room. Not that Janus is thinking about anyone in particular or anything.

“What do you need, Patton?”

Morality blanches for a second before drawing up his courage. He has a very expressive face. Janus does not acknowledge the tiny swell of warmth that curls in his chest.

“I wanted to know why you aren’t coming to the videos more often.”

Janus stares. Patton blinks back.

“What?”

Patton goes back to wringing his hands. “Is it-- is it something we did? If it’s about Roman, he’s--well he’s working on it, but it’s safe for you to come down now, I just...I want everyone to be okay.”

“I--” Janus clears his throat which seems too tight suddenly. “I was unaware that you would have liked my presence so often.”

“I meant my apology, Janus,” Patton says. He looks so soft Janus wants to hiss instinctively. He refrains, but only just. “Everyone is welcome. Everyone.”

Janus nods woodenly. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t really know how.

Maybe that’s okay.

~

He doesn’t come to every video, and he always makes them wait for his dramatic entrance when they call his name. Just because they know it now doesn’t mean Janus will come like a trained dog.

Still, Logan almost never calls on him, so when he hears the logical side scream for him with more desperation than he’s ever known him to possess, Janus comes running.

“What.”

Something’s been off for a while now, but Janus’s room is farther away from the common area than the others’ are, so he’s managed to ignore it. It was just Virgil doing his job; he’d felt the roiling in his stomach and the ache in his chest but Virgil hadn’t introduced a panic attack for months, so he’d thought it would pass. Janus had assumed it was something innocuous, an audition he’d forgotten about or a new friend coming over when Thomas hadn’t cleaned in a while.

He should have known what happened when he assumed.

“Janus, you’re right on time,” Logan says. He’s so dry Janus still isn’t sure when he’s joking, but he takes one look at Logan’s face--pale and wan and more than a little gaunt--and straightens his back in reaction. He looks around for the source of what’s disturbed Logan so.

The common room is in shambles.

The couch is overturned, the television is cracked and fallen on its side. The blinds are ripped. There’s cobwebs everywhere and shadows lick at the corners of the ceiling.

On the stairs, the three other sides huddle, looking like a particularly ragged bunch of kicked puppies. Logan is the only one standing, his hands woven through the bars of the stairway to clutch at someone’s sleeve. He’d turned his head towards Janus when he’d appeared but hadn’t gone to greet him. Roman is sitting on the bottom stair, katana across his knees; his knuckles are white around the hilt and his eyes are darting. Patton is half hidden behind Creativity, crouching with his back to Janus. He’s whispering reassurances and doesn’t pause when the others speak. He’s reaching out to something--someone--but Janus can’t see what.

“It’s Virgil,” Logan says tightly and Janus’s throat constricts.

He shakes it off, though, and steps up beside Logic to get a better view. Virgil is curled in on himself, so much so that only his purple bangs show. His hood is up and his head is buried in his arms. He’s shaking and small and Janus can hear his breath rattling from here.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil flinches and Patton squeezes his arms where he’s gripped them just below the shoulder, cooing. His eyes are wide and scared when he looks at Janus, but Janus just holds up a hand. “What’s happened, Virgil?”

There’s a small, sharp gasp, and the side looks up. Janus catches his hiss before it can crawl up his throat, but it’s a near thing. Virgil is always pale, but his skin is translucent now and his veins show black against his face. His eyes are glowing above shadows black as the pits of hell.

“Thomas is being followed,” Virgil tells him, voice reverberating so much it shakes the walls. “No one would listen to me all morning but he’s there, he’s on the bus, he moved two rows up to sit behind Thomas, I can feel his breath on the back of Thomas’s neck. He’s going to trap us, he’s going to follow us home.”

Roman and Patton open their mouths, maybe to ask for more information, maybe to deny involvement, but Janus cuts his hand through the air and clutches at the banister next to Logan. “When did you notice him?”

“He followed Thomas for ten blocks before we got on the bus.” Virgil’s eyes flick to the side, checking on their host. He refocuses on Janus and his irises have been completely swallowed now. Janus suppresses a wince; it hasn’t gotten this bad in a long time. “Please, Deceit. You have to help Thomas.”

Something in Janus squeezes and twists, but he slaps on a smirk anyway. “It’s what I do best, dear Virgil. Leave it to me.”

Deceit convinces Thomas to get off the bus early. He advises Thomas to call Joan and wait in the Starbucks next to the bus stop until they can walk with him. He makes sure the man with the baseball cap stays well away in the meantime and that Thomas never puts his phone down in case he needs the police. It’s a close thing, and Janus’s teeth are on edge the whole time, but Thomas is safe and sound at the end of the night and Virgil has calmed when he gets back.

“Hey, Deceit,” Virgil says when Janus goes to sink out. He’s still curled up on the stairs, but his influence has died down a bit and he’s not hiding his face anymore. The others have wandered back to their rooms, now that the uproar is over, but Janus knows Virgil will stay to keep an eye on things, just in case. The words he says next sound clunky and wrong in his mouth. “Thank you. You saved Thomas.”

Janus smiles and it feels strange on his face, so he sinks out instead of answering.

~

The second time Janus notices it is vastly less dire. Somehow, that makes it worse. More noticeable, perhaps. No danger for either of them to focus on.

Patton has instituted a weekly family dinner. They’re only just now inviting Remus to every other week’s dinner, since Roman can only recreate the common room’s furniture so many times before getting exhausted. Janus, apparently, has a standing invitation but he can’t deny that it still feels strange, popping in like he’s not going to be attacked if he shows his true face. To combat this awkwardness, Patton sends a new side to get him every time. Logan has had the most success in easing Janus’s mood, due in no small part to their shared interest in debate. He must say combating Logic is a fulfilling challenge. Patton himself, of course, simply does not take no for an answer and so he is Janus’s second favorite by default.

Roman is...not ready yet for more than a sharp rap of his knuckles on his door, but Janus appreciates the effort it takes the other side for even that. It’s a work in progress.

So when there’s a light tap on the yellow wood, he assumes perhaps Patton himself has decided to greet him slightly less boisterously than usual and pulls it open without ceremony. (Well, not much ceremony. He is part of Thomas, after all.)

Virgil takes a startled step back. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his head is down. Janus can barely see his eyes through his fringe.

“Oh.” Janus says. “You..are Patton.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth twitches. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “Dad says dinner’s ready.”

Janus raises an eyebrow just to be contrary. He can’t capitulate to every request just like that; he has appearances to maintain.

Virgil rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to be there, Deceit.”

Janus grits his teeth, looking away. “Right. Well. Thanks.”

When he looks back, there’s a strange expression on the other side’s face, like he can’t quite figure Janus out. He shrugs and turns, ambling back down the stairs.

Dinner is not as quiet and awkward as it was at first, but with Roman still sulking and Virgil’s natural propensity for silence, Logan and Patton are hard pressed to make up for Janus’s current lack of enthusiasm. He spends the night with something not quite angry, not quite sad, and not quite resigned twisting in his gut.

Janus nearly doesn’t stay for dessert, but pauses when a slice of lemon pie is shoved under his nose. He blinks for a moment before looking up at Patton’s smiling face. “Virgil told me it was your favorite?” He asks hopefully.

Janus blinks and looks at Virgil. Virgil hunches his shoulders up to his ears and shrugs. “It is,” he mutters to the floor. The pressure in Janus’s chest doesn’t go away but it does recede. A little, anyway.

Janus eats the pie, more confused than he was before.

~

“Janus,” Roman says, a little stiffly. Janus leans against his door jamb and arches his eyebrows. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting.” He sinks out before Janus can ask what, but that's alright. He already knows, and if anyone (Remus) asks, he is definitely not smiling as he sinks out.

With family dinner nights comes movie afternoons and marathon days on the weekends. Thomas has never quite gotten over ABC Family discontinuing Harry Potter Weekends. Janus can’t really blame him, to be honest.

“You’re supposed to be wearing a onesie,” is the first thing out of Virgil’s mouth when he pops in to watch Marvel movies that afternoon. Janus snorts at him, disgruntled, and sits primly on the edge of the couch when Thomas pats the space beside him absently. Roman has taken a place on the floor and Logan has the armchair, apart but still near. Patton smiles brightly from where he lays with his head in the prince’s lap, waving his hand excitedly before letting an explosion on-screen tear his attention away. Virgil is on Janus’s other side, pressed against the armrest with one knee drawn up to his chest. There’s a careful three inches of space between them that Janus is hyper aware of.

“Logan isn’t wearing a onesie.”

Virgil shrugs, seemingly uncaring of the side sitting next to him. After a second there’s a lull in the action on the television and Janus catches him moving out of the corner of his eye. Not that he was looking at Virgil, of course. He just. Noticed it.

He tilts his head a little, glancing at the other side out of the corner of his eye--it’s his snake eye, does it still scare Virgil these days?--to find Virgil has a little smile on his face. He leans his temple on his knee and, miracle of miracles, winks at Janus and whispers conspiratorially. “Logan’s weird.”

Janus snorts. He pulls his gloves off absently, setting them, his cape and hat on his knees before leaning back into the cushions gingerly. “You can say that again.”

“Falsehood,” sounds at the same time as Patton’s “That again!” and Janus does not smile.

Virgil shifts a little. It’s so small it could be nothing but--but if Janus just leans a little further back they could be touching shoulders.

“Come on Deceit.” Virgil says, eyes on the screen again. “Live a little.”

Janus’s stomach turns to stone. He doesn’t stay for the whole movie.

~

“Hey Janus!” Thomas says brightly. How he can have so much energy after shooting a video all day, Janus may never know, although he does think maybe it has something to do with Remus convincing Thomas to spike their coffee with Red Bull all morning. They’re all going to pay for that tonight, Janus just knows it. No one sane puts Remus in charge of their digestive tract.

“Thomas,” Janus inclines his head, “you called?”

Thomas called him. Thomas wanted to see him. Him. Janus. Sometimes Janus still can’t believe it.

“Yeah, hey, listen.” Thomas scuffs the back of his neck and Janus narrows his eyes. Oh, this had better be good. “I’ve got some more shooting to do later, it’s for another video after this one but…”

He trails off, and they’re left standing in a very awkward silence. Janus crosses his arms and waits. And waits. By God, this is where he gets his flare for the dramatic, isn’t it?

“What’s wrong, Thomas?” Janus asks drily. “Snake got your tongue?”

“No sorry.” Thomas laughs but nerves still tinge it. “I just--this new video, it’s not gonna have you in it. Okay?”

Oh. Okay. It’s the most recent video that’ll have no place for Janus in it since his name drop but that’s fine. It’s fine. It’s not like they’re going to replace him. Janus can handle it.

Janus narrows his eyes. “You’re not going to ask Leslie Odom Jr. to come back, are you?”

“What? No. I mean, that’d be so cool, but no. He’s got, like, other stuff to do.”

Okay, Janus can definitely handle this. “Well I’m completely devastated, Thomas. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. After all we’ve been through too; really, I’m wounded.”

His host rolls his eyes and chuckles at him. Janus feels warm and content and he can maybe see why the Light Sides want to do this all the time. Maybe. He’s not gone all the way soft, after all. “Yeah, okay, drama queen. If it makes you feel better, Virgil’s gonna be hanging back too. You two could hang out!”

Janus thinks back to the times before all this, when he’d let Virgil into his room and rest an arm around him during the panic attacks and cook him dinner and share a blanket with him on movie nights. For a second the old, familiar ache is gone, his heart is whole and he is light as a feather.

Then he remembers the sound of “Deceit” leaving Virgil’s mouth at the drop of a hat and shoves it all away before it can hurt him again.

“Yeah right, that’ll be the day,” Janus says and sinks out before Thomas can ask what he means.

~

“Deceit! Hey, Deceit, stop for a minute.”

Janus does not stop. In fact, he takes the stairs two at a time and barrels down the hallway.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Janus hisses air out between his teeth, seething. He’d almost managed to get into his room unnoticed. Almost. Damn Virgil and his skill of popping up where he’s least wanted.

He turns, dread making his stomach go cold, and there Virgil is, hands curled in his sleeves. He’s hunched over again, worried and trying to hide it. If Janus didn’t feel so cornered or hunted or goddamn tired of this, he’d take pity on the side.

“Whatever do you mean, Virgil? I’m not doing anything like that.”

Virgil shifts on his feet, worrying his bottom lip before seeming to steel himself. “That’s bull and you know it. Thomas said you were running away from me for some reason and I’d like to know what it is.”

“Yeah, well, turnabout’s fair play, isn't it?” Janus snaps.

Virgil looks--surprised, Janus supposes, but it’s more than that. Lost, a little afraid. He’s still so young. Janus can remember when he was small enough to fit in Janus’s arms, when he’d left him onto his shoulders and let Virgil wear his hat on his tiny head--

Those days are over.

“What--what’s that supposed to mean?”

Janus laughs and it’s nearly as ugly as anything Remus could come up with. Virgil flinches. “I think you know exactly what it means.”

“Uh, I really don’t.”

“Well maybe you should figure it out.”

“Hey, what the hell man?” Virgil scowls. “Stop treating me like an idiot just because I don’t know what’s going on with you. At least I’m asking.”

“Oh you--” Janus whirls on him. He strides forward, one step, two, three. He’s nose to nose with Virgil but the anxious side doesn’t take a step back like he would have years ago by reflex. He’s grown so much and Janus was never there to see it. “You, you want to know what’s wrong, huh? Well, congratulations, now you're part of the club.”

“Deceit, what--”

“I asked you a thousand times!” He screams at Virgil. “I asked you what was wrong and I had Remus ask you what was wrong and I tried to understand you but you didn’t let me!”

Virgil gaps at him, staring, but Janus can’t stop now. The dam has been broken.

He throws his hands in the air, gesturing at nothing, mouth working against a silent scream. “I wanted to help you, Virgil, and you left! You never even gave me or Remus a chance to help you. You ran away from me and you didn’t look back.”

Something in Virgil’s eyes hardens now and he snaps his jaws shut with a click. “Deceit, that’s not fair.”

“Fair? Fair? You wanna talk about fair? I fucking raise you, I was there for you, and you turned your back on me. You dropped me like a rock and now that you can’t avoid me, you can’t even use my real name!”

“I didn’t know I was allowed to!”

That stops him, trips Janus’s words up on his tongue. He steps back instinctively, like Virgil’s just punched him. He feels winded. “Wh-what?”

Virgil’s hands are clenched into fists but they stay at his sides. His eyes are burning and the shadows underneath them are darkening rapidly but he stands his ground. His voice wavers but carries. “I-I left. You’re right about that. And I know, I know I could’ve handled it better. I just--”

Virgil breaks off, huffs, drags a hand through his hair. He looks away, impatient, like he’ll find the words he wants scrawled on the walls. “I just didn’t know I could reach out to you, okay? I didn't--I didn’t learn that. I never knew how to lean on people or trust people or be kind until I came here because-- because you never seemed like you could get hurt. I didn’t have to learn that with you because I--I didn’t know I could hurt you like that.”

Janus opens his mouth, but Virgil plows on, picking up steam. He has both hands in his hair now, tugging harshly and Janus almost reaches out to gentle their grip before stopping himself. “I didn’t realize that you-- you were my friend.” Virgil sniffles now and Janus feels his heart thaw and break at the same time. “I--you were my family and I left and then the Light Sides taught me what that meant and by then I’d been gone so long. How could I go back? What right did I have to do that to you after I left how I did?”

He pauses but Janus can’t seem to find words for the first time in his life. For a moment there is silence and then, very slowly, Virgil drops his hands. He nods, not quite meeting Janus’s eyes, and sniffles again. His face is turned away now but Janus can see the tear tracks on his cheeks. “You came in here and you’re--you’re here, you know? And the others are trying, like they did with me but you told them your name, not me. So I just-- I didn't think you'd want me to use it.”

“You already knew my name.” It’s all Janus can think to say.

Virgil looks up.

Janus steps closer, frowning. But his chest feels light, like he’s finally slipped a metal band he didn’t know was around his lungs this whole time. “You knew my name before--before you left. So, why not use it? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Virgil furrows his brow. “It wasn’t my choice; it was not my secret to tell. It was yours. And you told Patton and Roman, and Logan’s kind of a package deal with them, so. You chose to give it to them. You just got stuck with me in the beginning.”

“And you aren’t a part of the package deal? Not even after all this time?”

Virgil smiles and it is like cracked glass in a mirror. “I guess I don’t really belong anywhere.”

“Yes you do,” Janus says. “ You always did. You always will.” The heat in his chest is boiling now, rising up his throat and into his face and spreading to his fingertips and he reaches out before he can stop himself. He reaches out and Virgil reaches back and suddenly they’re there. Together. And Virgil buries his face in his shoulder, and Janus shudders and curls closer and they both don’t mention how wet their faces are and they’re both laughing, maybe, or crying but it doesn’t really matter.

And Janus says, “I missed you, Virgil.”

And Virgil says, “Welcome home, Janus.”

[agustdakasuga]

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 12

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

As the week of heats and ruts approach, the boys need to try their best to keep away from you. You try your best to keep them out as well, wanting to use this time to study and get your mind off them. 

“Kookie.” You chuckled as you tried to reach to get something from the shelf but Jungkook had his arms around you. The 8 of you were going grocery shopping to stock up both your houses. With their ruts coming the next day and lasting the whole week, the boys wanted to stay home as much as possible. 

“I’m trying to help.” He lied and took the item for you, placing it into your cart. You rolled your eyes, totally unconvinced.

“I can still get groceries for you guys.” You chuckled as you saw Yoongi piling their cart with big bags of kimchi, as if they were going hibernating for the winter. Namjoon put two bags of rice in for them as well. 

“It’s okay.” Hoseok patted your head. 

“I’m your mate, aren’t I? Let me take care of you guys too.” You scrunched your nose at them.

“She really takes this mate thing seriously.” Jimin smiled, reaching over to pinch your cheek lightly, to which you slapped his hand away. They all adored the way you would call them your mates or call yourself their mate. Taehyung grabbed multiple bags of snacks, throwing them in. You shook your head, continuing to pick out fruit for yourself and them. 

“Great! This means there won’t be anyone to steal my fruit anymore.” You smiled in victory. 

“Aww, if you’re gonna miss us, just say it.” Jin teased and you glared at them. You are always vocal about how much you didn’t like them stealing your food. Taehyung leaned in to give you a peck on the cheek. 

“W-What was that for?” You choked. 

“You’re cute.” He stated, looking at you through his long, curly fringe. Your cheeks burned as you busied yourself with the dried pasta on the shelves.

“Is our mate shy from Tae’s kiss?” Hoseok teased.

“N-No!” You quickly took the cart and pushed it into the other aisle. You picked up some bread as well to stock your own house. The plan was to spend the week studying. You, too, didn’t want to go out unless it was to see the boys or go to work. 

“Need some help?” You saw Yoongi standing in front of the meat refrigerator, in deep thought. He was largely involved in meal planning for the pack so he always needed to think of how many portions to buy. 

“Shall we do lamb skewers tonight?” He turned to you, holding the pack of skewered lamb up. 

“I can come for dinner tonight?” You tilted your head. 

“Of course, is that even a question? You’re always invited over for dinner. I thought that was already established.” He raised an eyebrow with a small smile. You wrapped an arm around him.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him. He rolled his eyes but leaned in to kiss the top of your head. Still, he decided to get some lamb skewers and steak to grill. You got some lettuce for wraps and all the sauces that the boys usually enjoyed with meat. Soon, another arm wrapped itself around your waist and the both of you turned to see Jin. 

“Don’t mind me.” He said nonchalantly, seeing if there was any extra meat that he wanted, while keeping his hold on you. When he saw nothing interesting, he shrugged and walked away. You picked up some chicken. 

“Chim! Chim!” You ran to him giggling. 

“You eat it! You love it so much!” Jimin ran away laughing while you continued to chase him. 

“You guys love to steal my food, don’t you? Why don’t we share this?” You jabbed his side. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your neck from the back, leaning his weight on you. 

“It’s not stealing, (y/n). It’s sharing.” 

“Right.” You rolled your eyes. Once everyone was done, you headed to check out. The younger ones stuck with you to help you carry your things while the older ones sorted out their house’s cart. You took your card out to pay when Taehyung stopped you, taking out his card. 

“Hey, don’t pay for me. I can pay for it myself.” You frowned. 

“It’s okay.” Taehyung shook his head. The cashier smiled flirtatiously at the boys, touching Taehyung’s hand as she took his card. You didn’t like that they were paying for your things. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked Taehyung. Taehyung nodded, pointing his thumb at you. 

“Before you ask, we have a girlfriend too.” Jimin read the girl’s mind. She blushed but sent you a dirty look. You rolled your eyes, not really caring. 

“Let’s go.” You mumbled and headed out with them. As you all took the bus back, you sat quietly in the corner. Of course, the boys knew that you were upset. The older ones turned to the younger 3, before nodding over to you, who was staring out the window, unaware of the mental conversation that the 7 boys were having. 

“What happened? She’s upset.” Namjoon asked. 

“There was this flirtatious cashier that was asking if Tae had a girlfriend. Then she moved onto me and Kookie.” Jimin explained. 

“That made her upset?” Yoongi was a little surprised. You didn’t seem like someone who got upset about trivial things like these. But maybe because you took this mate thing seriously...

“Nothing else happened before that.” Jungkook said.

The bus stopped and you got off wordlessly. The boys were quick to get off as well. They followed you to your house first and dropped the things off for you but unlike any other time, you didn’t invite them in. That was a clear sign that something was really bothering you. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” You said and closed the door. The boys all blinked in confusion. 

“There’s something else bothering her.” Hoseok stared back at your closed door before leaving with the others to go home. Hoseok was right, you weren’t upset about the cashier. 

In fact, you couldn’t care less. 

You just didn’t like that the boys paid for your groceries. You knew they had mate instincts to protect you, care for you and provide for you. But you were independent and didn’t really like the fact that they never let you pay for anything. Almost as if they thought you couldn’t afford to. Your grandfather brought you up to be independent and provide for yourself. 

“They’re just being nice.” You scolded yourself for being so sour and sensitive over it before going to take a shower. 

*DING DONG*

“Coming.” You went to answer the door.

“Hi Hobi. You’re early.” You gave a small smile and hugged him. Hoseok smiled and wrapped his arms around you, patting your head. 

“I’m still getting ready. Come on in. Help yourself to the drink fridge.” You said and ran upstairs. Hoseok chuckled, removing his shoes and letting himself in. He sat down in the living room to wait.��

“Ready.” You came down. 

“Beautiful.” Hoseok kissed your cheek, making you blush. He helped with turning off your lights as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed out with him. After you locked the door, you started the walk to the boys’ house with Hoseok. 

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asked. 

“I am. Why do you ask?” You looked at him. Hoseok held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and swinging it gently. 

“You were upset earlier.” 

“I’m sorry. It was just a small thing, I over reacted.” You sighed. 

“Don’t apologise for being upset. And I don’t think you’re one to over react, that’s not you. The maknaes think that you’re upset because of the flirty cashier but I know there’s more to that.” Hoseok said. Your heart grew warm. 

“It’s really dumb.” 

“Tell me and I’ll see if it’s dumb.” He persuaded.

“I wanted to pay for my own groceries today. But Tae gave his card instead and didn’t let me pay. I just... felt so little, you know? I mean, I know that he was being nice and you guys want to care for me but I’m independent too. I have been doing all these things myself before you guys came along. I just don’t want you guys to think that I’m expecting you guys to pay for me.” You said.

“I get it. I’m sorry if you felt that we were belittling you or your ability to provide for yourself.” He turned to you. 

“No, don’t say that. That’s why I told you that I was overly dramatic.” You whined. 

“You should tell them how you felt. You know we would never want to do anything to make you upset.” Hoseok rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. You nodded your head. 

“But I don’t want to make Tae feel bad.” You looked down. Hoseok stopped walking, making you face him. He tilted your chin up. 

“If you don’t tell them, they will never know or understand. You have to speak your mind and share your feelings with us, don’t bottle it up. You’re not mind linked to us yet so we can’t read your mind, my love.” He chuckled. You giggled lightly, tip toeing to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you, Hobi.” You smiled softly.

“You can always talk to anyone of us.” He hugged you and you nodded. With that, the two of you continued your walk to the house. 

“(y/n). You’re here.” Yoongi, who was passing by the main door, stopped to greet you when he saw you and Hoseok come in. You smiled and he wrapped an arm around you, pecking your temple. 

“Let me help with dinner tonight?” You asked him. 

“Sure. Whatever you want, my mate.” He gave you a gummy smile. It was still early so you decided to sit in the living room. Hearing your voice, the others all came out. 

“I need to talk to you guys.” You started, taking a deep breath. 

“Of course. Is everything okay?” Namjoon asked. You looked over at Hoseok, who gave you an encouraging nod. 

“Everything is fine. Don’t worry. I wanted to tell you guys why I was upset this afternoon. I was grateful and I know that you guys want to care for me but I can provide for myself. Paying for groceries and bills, I work to be able to do that on my own. I don’t want to be a burden and I don’t want you guys to feel like you have to pay for me.” You told them. 

“We didn’t know you felt that way. That wasn’t our intention.” Taehyung’s face showed how sad and mortified he felt. 

“I know. I know.” You calmed him down. 

“We would never think you’re a burden to us. But if you want to be independent, we respect that. We never meant to cross any boundaries or make you feel bad.” Namjoon said. 

“But we’re glad you told us this.” Jungkook rubbed your hands. You reached over to hug Taehyung and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

“No, don’t apologise.” You squeezed his waist. When you pulled away, you let out a sigh of relief. That went a lot better than expected. 

“Shall we get started on dinner?” Yoongi held his hand out to you. You nodded and let him pull you to your feet. You tied your hair up and Yoongi almost smiled at the way your crystal necklace shone under the light. He proceeded to tie the apron strings behind your back. 

“Thank you.” You grinned at him and began preparing everything. Yoongi did the steaks in the pan while you prepared the vegetables and did the lamb skewers on the grill pan. 

“(y/n)-”

“Out.” Yoongi glared at Jungkook, knowing the youngest would only come to try and sneak some food from you before dinner. 

“Aww.” Jungkook pouted and stormed out. You threw your head back in laughter at how much authority Yoongi had over Jungkook. Jin came in to help you watch the lamb cook while you prepared the vegetables. 

“Is this enough?” You asked, showing all the lettuce that you washed. The two boys nodded. 

“Hobi! Can you cook the rice?” Jin shouted out of the kitchen. The beta was quick to come and help cook the rice. That was his duty for most dinners. You grabbed a plate for Jin to put the cooked skewers on while Yoongi put the steaks aside, covering them to let them rest. Namjoon picked out a nice bottle of wine to have with the meat. 

“Can I help?” Jimin bounced into the kitchen. 

“You and Tae could set the table?” You patted his head and he saluted, running out while shouting Taehyung’s name. 

“Dinner’s done!” Yoongi brought the steaks out to slice while you carried the vegetables out. You headed to Hoseok to help him give out the rice bowls to all the members. 

“I love steak!” Jungkook cheered. You laughed at his child like energy. 

“But I love you more, (y/n).” He came to wrap his arms around you, making you blink in confusion. That was so random. As everyone took their seats, you looked at all the boys, tomorrow would be one week without them. 

“Why so glum, chum?” Taehyung asked. 

“Just thinking about one week without you guys.” You giggled. 

“Aww, don’t be sad. We’ll still see you because we have patrolling duties. We just can’t be with you for too long. Don’t worry. If there’s anything you need, you can still call us. The heats or ruts doesn’t mean we stop being good mates. You’re our priority.” Namjoon patted your head. 

“Thank you.” You smiled. 

After dinner, the boys all walked you home. Instead of the usual loudness and chatting, you all walked in peaceful silence. 

“Thank you for the lovely evening. I’ll see you in a week.” You laughed as you hugged all of them, giving them pecks. They, too, attacked you with tight hugs and kisses. 

“We’ll shift here.” They smiled and shifted into their wolves, not caring that they tore their clothes to shreds. 

“My boys.” You bent down to rub their heads. 

“Our girl.” The boys smiled at you, all howling together. Your eyes widened at their sudden loud volumes as you quickly hushed them, not wanting people to come and complain, even if there weren’t that many people in the area. They smiled mischievously and Jimin nuzzled his cheek against yours, letting out whines. You kissed his muzzle. 

“Goodnight boys.” You stood up. Namjoon nodded to the door and you went in. From your window, you gave them a wave before you watched them run off into the night. 

-

The next day, you woke up and cooked for yourself. You realised that you have been spending so much time with the boys that you haven’t got the chance to clean so you cleaned the entire house before studying. 

“I should take this and-”

*howl*

“What?” You stood up from your laid position on your bed and shuffled over to the window. Opening it, you looked down and saw a light grey wolf, standing there in your front porch. You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned against the window sill. 

“What happened to distancing ourselves, Jin?” You giggled. 

“Who cares?!” Jin barked in response, jumping and even doing a spin. You shook your head. 

“Silly, go home! I’m studying.” You smiled. 

“I’m more important than studying!” Jin whimpered. Shaking your head, you grabbed your cardigan, wrapping it around yourself and opening the door. 

“Come here, Jinnie.” You waved him over, sitting down on the steps of your porch. Jin grinned in victory and trotted over, licking your face. You giggled, running your fingers through his fur lovingly as you smiled. He pressed his nose against yours, making you laugh from the slight cold. You wrapped your arms around him to hug him. 

“Alright, better go before the others complain.” You smiled. He let out a whine, stomping his front paws in protest. 

“Go on. I’ll see you guys soon.” You patted his head. Jin stood on his hind legs, whining. Walking to him, you gave him a kiss on the head and he licked your cheek one more time before jumping through the bushes. 

Standing up, you walked back into the house to return to your studies. Despite having lunch, you grew hungry from all the studying and made ramen for yourself to snack on. 

*Scratch scratch*

“Who is it?” You stood up from the coffee table, leaving your ramen, and went to open the door. Taehyung sat there with a smile, giving a bark. 

“Hello, Tae.” You patted his head. He was gonna come in but you put your leg there, blocking his way. Huffing in annoyance, he looked up at you and whimpered loudly. Anyone passing by would have thought that he broke his leg or something. 

“No, Tae. You know that you can’t come in.” You chided. 

“But I want you.” He whined.

“It’s only been a day. And you guys were the ones that predicted that I would come over first.” You chuckled and ruffled his fur. 

“I don’t care! I want you!” Taehyung’s rut made him extremely whiny, needy and like a child. Whereas Jin’s heat just made him clingy. As the oldest, he usually acted like a good role model to the younger wolves. 

“Go.” You pointed. With flattened ears, Taehyung turned around and walked away. You locked the door as you continued your ramen. There was some sounds heard from upstairs, making you look towards the stairwell. Placing the dishes into the sink, you went upstairs to find a white wolf curled up on your bed. You sighed and shook your head. 

“Yoongs...” You called. He ignored you, continuing to sleep. Yoongi was just even more lazy during his rut. 

“You guys need to stop coming here! We’re supposed to not be around each other this week.” You lightly hit the top of his head. Reaching under his fluffed fur, you pulled your English books out from under him. 

“I wish you were as scared of Namjoon as the rest were.” You grumbled to yourself. 

“You’re too cute, my mate.” Yoongi smiled softly. 

RINGGGGGG

“Hello?” You answered. 

“HELLO! I HEARD THAT YOONGI HYUNG IS THERE NOW! WHY DO YOU LET HIM GO OVER WHILE THE REST OF US AREN’T ALLOWED THERE?! DO YOU NOT LOVE US THE SAME?! TELL ME (Y/N)! TELL ME!”

“Chim? Calm down, don’t cry. I love you all the same. Yoongi came here himself, I can’t get him out. He literally appeared in my room, on my bed, through my open window. But that doesn’t mean you all can come here, I’m figuring out a way to get him out of here. I need to study.” You sighed. 

“BUT! BUT!”

“Sorry, (y/n). We’ll leave you alone.” Namjoon said quickly, cutting off the younger omega and hanging up. 

“I hope you’re happy. I just broke Chim’s heart.” You played around with Yoongi’s tail, making him snort. He felt you grasp his tail gently, waving it around like it was a toy or something. 

“Let go.” He let out a growl and you released it, turning to lie on your stomach to read your books and study. Yoongi peeked open one eye to watch you. 

~~

Tag list

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[witchyfrankincense]

La Méprise (part three)

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: You start history with Spencer Reid in your university auditorium.

Warnings: violence, fight, reminding of trauma, season 13 spoilers, prof!Spencer, student!Reader, suggestive.

❁❁❁❁❁❁

Like clockwork, Spencer had turned around faster than you realized no one was following your steps next to you. Your heart dropped more than it already had as you understood that there was something, some nick, that you had failed to catch. But maybe you were the lost one here?

It seemed like Spencer had no doubts about his forthcoming actions – you watched him take quick, aggressive strides towards Mike. Seconds later, his tensed fist made contact with Mike's face. Spencer's act made you jump. Your usual first instinct would have been to yell, to interfere. But this time you didn't.

Right after the action, Mike was angrily pushed against the wall.

"You should stop talking," Spencer mumbled, angrily shoving him at the wall for the second time, pulling the man by his bunched-up jacket. Mike let out a pained groan and scoffed, later inhaling a deep breath of air. "Okay," he spat out. "Okay. Man."

"If you ever even look at me again," Spencer spoke, a harsher than usual undertone in his voice. However, soon after, he just went silent, staring at Mike for a few more moments before releasing him from his grip. You breathed out, shoulders dropping. You felt tiredness wash over you, obvious from all the stupidly scary events that had just happened.

After seeing Spencer turn back around and start walking towards you, you nodded and turned away from the sight of Mike silently chuckling and wiping his bloody nose. You opened the door. The fresh breeze of the outside air lifted your mood and you took a wide step outside.

"Can you still walk with me?" your voice reached both of yours' ears after you closed the door. "Oh, yeah. I'll join the team later," he replied, glancing in your direction. You both went quiet, still walking, Spencer seemingly following your lead of way. "Thank you," you suddenly muttered, placing your hands into your jacket pockets.

"Hm?" Spencer replied to your unexpected gratitude. You let out a small sigh, looking down at your synced-up footsteps. "Thank you for doing that. I would've punched the bitch myself, but, you know," you softly spoke. He smiled. "I'm not...usually a puncher," he weakly mumbled, shoving his hands into his pant pockets.

"I could've guessed," you joked, instantly frowning on yourself. "It's, not like you, you know, look like you wouldn't be able to, uh, punch someone, I was just—,"

"Joking. Yeah. To be fair, I agree," Spencer finished for you, making your shoulders drop in relief. You both let out chuckles. Continuing to walk down the asphalt path, you looked around the university campus. "Yeah, I usually take the bus to university. Quicker that way. I don't have the ability, nor want to sprint here at 8 a.m. Though, I enjoy a walk sometimes," you craned your neck to his side, sharing a random daily life thought. He nodded, straightening his shoulders.

"That is very true, actually, did you know that walks are extremely good for your well-being? Just 30 minutes every day can increase cardiovascular fitness, strengthen bones, reduce excess body fat, and boost muscle power and endurance. It can also reduce your risk of developing conditions such as, uh, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis and some cancers. Unlike some other forms of exercise, walking is, you know, free and doesn't require any special equipment or training," he finished talking, glancing at you brightly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and cheered.

"Wow! Spencer—,' you stopped, realizing your lack of knowledge about his last name. "Reid," he mumbled back, continuing to walk. "—Spencer Reid, the fact machine! Hey, buddy, does that head ever get too heavy for you?" you laughed out, crossing your arms and raising your head. "Hey," he mocked your tone, "That, is downright mean," he raised his voice playfully, his eyebrows furrowing.

You both bickered as you rounded the corner. And, you continued talking while walking down the lonely road. And while you pointed out the apartment building you were staying at.

And when you both said goodbyes after he had led you to the building door, a creeping feeling of awe kept trying to make you fall – to slip down the very stairs you built.

Five days later

Thursday.

"Spencer?"

Three mornings. After the boringly passed weekend, you had spent the last three mornings walking into the auditorium and longingly glancing at the seats – hoping to see the familiar curly-haired persona. But you never did, as each time you looked up, the seat was empty. Had you scared him off? Or maybe he thought you were weird? Many questions swarmed your mind constantly, and, well, there was really no hope of distracting it. Because the only person who could, wasn't showing up.

On the blessed fourth day, you walked into campus, sipping your new-bought iced latte with caramel, dressed in dashing black baggy jeans and 90's-esque top with a bunch of shiny silver jewelry all over your neck and hands, not expecting anything to be different. Because you got it, you understood – obviously he had a job to do, a terrifyingly important one, at that, and going to these lectures and meeting you was just a side mission – a pastime.

However, as you were making your way to the door, you noticed him – Spencer, standing near the entrance.

"Spencer? Hey, you're back," you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your sip of coffee and smiling. He returned the smile, nodding. "I am, uh, I had a bunch of cases, so, didn't really have time," he spoke, joining your stride to the door. "No, it's all good, Spence. I get it. Your job is extremely important, and I definitely don't expect you to, you know, always be here." Seconds later, you mentally cursed at yourself after realizing your accidental use of a nickname instead of his full name. "Shit—, sorry, I called you Spence," you pointed out quietly, glancing at him to watch his reaction. He, however, gave none.

"It's okay—you know, this teammate of mine, JJ, she's my best friend—, she also calls me Spence, so, yeah, you can, if you want," he mumbled out, a smile playing on his lips. "Wow, didn't know you had a girl best friend! I bet she's super cool," your voice rose in slight excitement.

You realized that you both had stopped walking.

"She is," Spencer replied wholeheartedly, smiling. His eyes then dropped down to your outfit. "You look pretty today, by the way," he pointed out, seconds later turning back to face the entrance and beginning to walk forward. Your mouth hung open in slight shock and it took you a good second to catch your expression, shake your head and speed walk towards Spencer.

He complimented you.

"Thank you," you mumbled after catching up to him, flashing him a grateful smile. He nodded. "You know, there's something I want to tell you," he suddenly spoke up, his lowered tone making your heart drop for no other reason than worry. "What is it?" you instantly asked, grasping the handle of your bag.

"Oh," Spencer lightly laughed, glancing at your direction. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I mean—I'll just tell you. I'll be in temporary teaching at this university," he mumbled. You raised your eyebrows, aiming your gaze at the ground. "Really? That's cool," you answered, smiling through your words. "So, you'll be my professor?" you blurted out a thought, regretting it a moment later.

"Yeah," Spencer chuckled back, looking at you. "Guess I will."

Butterflies suddenly erupted in your stomach, and your expression changed as you realized that. Shut up, you softies. You had no idea why you felt so warm out of the sudden, as all you did was think about Spencer being your professor.

Spencer being your professor? Did you have some weird professor and student fantasy?

You subconsciously shook your head and continued walking in silence alongside Spencer, deep in thought. However, a moment later your inner mind light bulb lit up and you lifted your head up, straightening your posture. "Wait, what trained FBI team member takes up temporary teaching for some inexperienced students?" you asked, shooting him a quick look. You saw him tense up, visibly sighing. He looked at you and weakly smiled.

"I really wished you hadn't asked me that," he muttered and you frowned. "Oh—I'm sorry, I didn't—,"

"It's okay. You have the right to know. I've—uh, I've been to prison. Falsely accused," he began, nervously correcting himself after noticing your intense stare. The both of you blinked in shock – you because of Spencer's sudden confession, him – probably because of the same thing.

"Of what?" you asked carefully. Spencer swallowed. "Multiple drug possession. Suspicion of drug distribution. Murder of Nadie Ramos," he muttered quietly. You felt your eyebrows furrow, mind running through all possibilities. "Oh."

"I was framed. But I still spent almost three months there. It was, uh, bad," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry," you replied, feeling at a loss of appropriate words. Spencer quickly shook his head, smiling. "You don't have to be. That's why I'm teaching. I was recommended to do it. It's like a...break, I guess."

You returned his smile, looking back at the ground. "You start today?"

"Yeah."

You began walking through the corridors, making your way to the auditorium. "I bet you'll make a great professor," you quietly exclaimed, watching his somewhat anxious expression shift into a softer one. He chuckled. "Thank you. I hope I'll live up to your expectations." "You will," you muttered almost instantly, voice higher. Once again, seconds later regretting even opening your mouth. Spencer laughed again. Walking through, Spencer pushed the already open door further, stopping so you'd walk first. You thankfully nodded back to him and smiled. "Go sit," he suddenly mumbled behind you and you felt him place his warm hand on your bare lower back, softly pushing you towards the seats.

You inhaled harshly, barely containing the need to arch beneath his hand, and quickly nodded, hurrying to the stairs. Spencer visibly grinned behind you.

Hopelessly ignoring your previous spot, you hurried to the second aisle, quietly hoping that the seat you chose wasn't taken. After all, you were fully ready to support Spencer on his new-found teaching, you obviously knew him more than the other students.

"Hello, uh, my name is Spencer Reid," he started, voice raising on his last name. The others quickly settled down, slightly interested in their new professor. He was easy on the eyes. You grinned to yourself, still gazing at him. Apparently, Spencer did indeed feel your stare at him, so he looked back, a smile beginning to play on his lips as he breathed in. Moments after, he began going on about a whole cluster of themes and subjects he had decided to teach you all. You failed to take your eyes of him.

<>

"Yes! So, this'll be it for today, don't forget to buy or get that book from somewhere else because it shares extremely good opinions and is very important for your understanding of what we're going through! And have a great day!" Spencer raised his voice to express his last thoughts to majority of the students who were already getting up from their seats and heading towards the exit door. You stayed, a wide smile on your lips as you noticed him glance at the leaving students with brighter than usual eyes. You stood up, fetching your bag and dropping it on your seat. You slowly walked towards Spencer, him finally looking back at you.

"See, you were great, Professor Reid," you jokingly exclaimed, seeing him laugh while packing his belongings behind the desk. "Thank you, Y/N, guess I am pretty great at teaching. I just, I don't know, felt as if you were all so interested in what I was speaking about, so, yeah, that was pretty great," he expressed, running his hand through his fluffy hair.

Your eyes subconsciously traced his hand, cheeks somewhat heating up, and you smiled. "Yeah, we were all pretty into your teaching. It's cool, your way of talking, I mean. But I think that wasn't the only reason why they were so immersed in you," you spoke, not realizing your accidental change of view. You both chuckled, Spencer seemingly deepening his gaze at you. "I wonder what that is," he teasingly replied, leaning down to get his case full of books and teaching material, however not turning his eyes away from yours.

You broke the eye contact, deciding that the conversation was way  too teasing for your liking, and laughed quietly to yourself.

Oh, shut up, Ms. I-might-have-a-professor-kink, I know you'd love for this mood to go on for the rest of your pitiful life.

"I wonder, too," you mumbled, feeling warmer. Spencer returned a light scoff. "Well, you seemed to know it when you first brought up the fact, so, tell me. I'm clueless, Y/N," he replied again with a tiny bit of a smooth velvet tone in his voice and your heart almost dropped in fear of his words. Why was he so confident? "Well, I think we're both kinda', you know, aware?" you hesitated, looking back at Spencer. His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips and he stood back, sliding his chair under the desk.

"Are we? Am I?"

You swallowed, trying to regain your usual snarky mood, while also moving back to your seat and snatching your bag from it. "I think so, yes," you exclaimed, sighing and joining his stride to the door. You both walked beside each other, Spencer sheepishly smiling and looking straight ahead. He didn't say a word until you reached the door.

"Well, why don't you think about that like a good student and tell me tomorrow, hm?" Spencer suddenly spoke up, making you freeze in your step. You widened your eyes at his words and looked up at him. His eyes were shimmering. You both stopped walking and you nodded, feeling awfully hot at his title for you. He smiled and unexpectedly raised his hand, leaning in closer and brushing a strand of hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear. You continued to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he seemed to enjoy your confusion.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he muttered and lowered his hand near his side, opening the door and closing it behind him. You began feeling weak, reaching behind blindly in search of the wall. After you had found it, you leaned against it, trying to regain your breathing.

What just happened and why did you like it?

<>