#i wrote a joke about a sticky note i left on my food in the fridge. this is a one time incident.

[myownprivatcidaho]

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[firstofficerwiggles]

Sending a Message

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: T, there are sexy situations, i.e. touching, but no actual sex, one use of the f-word, but mostly fluff and some longing

Summary: Basically, you and Din are in a cantina and you need his help to get men to stop hitting on you. You have an established friendship with him but neither of you have expressed your true *romantic* feelings. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2900ish

Author’s note: I love fanfiction and have been reading it for a looong time now, but I finally decided to take the plunge and write one myself. What can I say? Din is very inspiring. It’s very self-indugent and I hope you like it. 

I wrote a Part 2 to this story (18+ version) (T version)

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The child is a sticky mess having eaten his way through a bag of ripe berries as you were trying to keep him occupied so the Mandalorian could suss out information for others of his kind who might know where to find the Jedi.

It’s been roughly three months since you joined the Mandalorian’s crew to help out with the child. You were enamored with the sweet little green baby the moment you saw him with Din in that marketplace back on Tatooine. Stressed and exhausted, Din let you pick up the child and entertain him while he loaded supplies on to a cart. You accompanied the two of them around on the rest of their errands that day, offering helpful advice and somehow gaining the Mandalorian’s trust fast enough to have him offer you a job as the child’s caretaker by the end of the day. You surprised yourself with how quickly you agreed to the arrangement, but in the end, you knew there was nothing left for you on Tatooine but memories and an empty house.

So now here you were, fairly content with your role as nanny to the child, although not quite prepared for how risky travelling with the Mandalorian could be. There were days when you could not believe the situations you found yourself in, yet through it all, you knew you had made the right decision. This was largely in part to the Mandalorian himself. There was just something so undeniably compelling about him. He was an execptional hunter and frankly, a deadly assassin, but he always seemed willing to put his violent skills towards a good cause, no matter how hopeless it may have seemed. But yet, no matter how lethal he could be, he was also so heartbreakingly soft and gentle with his small son, demonstrating a fierce protectiveness that had spread to you too. At first, the Mandalorian wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but little by little, you had begun to get to know him and had fallen into an easy friendship of sorts with him. All well and good, but, the more you knew about him, the more you started to feel an attraction to him. It started slow, and you played it off as just a weakness for his handsome armor and, let’s be honest, his strong, fit physique underneath all that beskar. But then, he started to share small jokes with you, ask you more about yourself, and reveal details about his own life, including his name, Din Djarin. After that, you really couldn’t deny your feelings, but you kept them to yourself not wanting to upset the contented balance you had achieved nor wanting to put him in the uncomfortable position of having to turn you down. Still though, the longing was there, even when you tried to distract yourself.

“Wow, look at you! I think we have a new record, kiddo.” Din has made his way back to you and is gently teasing his son. He scoops him up into his arms and the child coos with glee but also puts his berry-smeared hands all over his father’s shiny armor.

“Oh no! I thought I’d have a chance to clean him up before you returned.” You apologize a little embarassed.

“It’s not a big deal; we’ll take care of it.” Din has accepted the messiness of fatherhood in stride, “Let’s head over to that cantina. We’ll get cleaned up and you two can get some food while we’re there.”

As Din heads to the back of the cantina in search of a fresher to deal with the berry mess, you spy two seats at the bar and carefully make your way through the crowd. Several people, mostly men it seems, smile widely at you as you pass. It’s packed in here, but the warmth of so many bodies together is welcome after the blustery wind that had picked up outside. You shed your heavy cloak and drape it over the back of one of the barstools both so you can save the seat for Din and, you think eagerly, give him the chance to see the pretty dress you decided to wear today. It’s one of your favorites but he hasn’t seen it yet, however, with the cooler weather on this planet you were beginning to think you wouldn’t get a chance to show it off. Not that you should be thinking like that, you roll your eyes at yourself and your silly crush on the stoic Mandalorian. You’re just getting yourself settled at the bar when the bartender places a brightly colored drink in front of you. Confused you say, “I haven’t ordered yet.” as he just points behind you to a burly looking man with a scruffy beard. The man is grinning confidently at you,

“My treat, pretty lady! We rarely get strangers like you in here!”

“Thank you,” you demure, “but I really can’t accept.”

“Nonsense! You go ahead and enjoy and then we can get to know each other.” He winks at you.

“Maybe she’d prefer one of these,” another man has sauntered over, this one a lanky man with a bottle of something in his hand, “I think she might prefer something with more of a bite to it.” His entendre not lost on you, you hold up your hand and shake your head to fend him off when yet a third man tries to get your attention,

“Don’t let these bozos tell you what you want; I’ll get you whatever your heart desires!”

“I can buy my own drink, thanks,” you cut him off, turn back to the bartender, and manage to order your own drink and some food for you and the child, but this last guy is persistent and sleezy, coming over and perching himself on the barstool you were saving for Din. “Hey, I’m saving that for my…” what should you call him? “friend,” you finish lamely.

“Well, no problem, I’m looking forward to meeting her too.” he waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. Giving him a sarcastic glare, you retort, “I don’t think he’d be interested.”

Things are starting to get out of hand, but thankfully, Din has spotted you amongst your crowd of admirers and with a small, rather amused tilt of his helmet and a bit of a shove, he’s now by your side with the child cooing happily from his satchel. “How about a booth?” he suggests, and you swear you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Great idea” you reply, hopping down from your stool and snatching your cloak back from the other one.

“Oh c’mon baby, that tin can can’t make you happy like I can” the guy who rudely stole Din’s seat calls after you. Your face erupts in a blush and you hope to hell that Din didn’t hear him amidst the noise of the cantina. The other men voice their frustrations too at your departure. You put your hand on Din’s bicep steering him away from these guys just in case. You don’t need Din starting a bar fight over you. You’re still holding his arm and following Din closely when yet another man comes up to you,

“This Mandalorian isn’t bothering you, baby, is he?” this idiot dares to ask.

“No. He is not.” you grit out as Din says, “She’s fine.” in his best don’t-fuck-with-me voice. It’s lost on this drunk fool though as he just lets out “Woo hoo! She sure is!” and tries to slap your ass, but thankfully you dodge him just in time.

You’re starting to doubt the wisdom in coming into this cantina but now that you’re making it to a booth with Din, you figure you should be all right. The booth has a curved seat following the shape of its round table and as Din places the child in the middle of the seat, he sits down to his right. You slide into your side of the booth opposite Din but before you can get fully seated, a man from the booth right behind you leans over, grabs your wrist and leeringly says, “I got a much better seat for you, mama.” and gestures to his crotch. Repulsed, you slap his hand away and head over to Din’s side of the table. That creep was disgusting but he did give you an idea.

“Will you do me a huge favor?” you ask Din, “Always” he replies instantly. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you climb into his lap while sliding one arm around his neck and then bringing your other hand to rest on his cuirass. You can sense his surprise, yet his arm wraps around your waist instinctively.

“Play along, please?” you whisper to him.

“What are you doing, exactly?” he wants to know.

“Sending a message.” You tuck your head in closer to his in a clearly affectionate way and place a kiss on his helmet where his cheek would be.

“What message would that be?” Din asks still a bit stunned by your actions.

“That I’m yours.” You pause as he absorbs this and then you tell him quietly, “I need you to be a little handsy.”

“Handsy?” he tilts his helmet at you “This feels like a trap.”

“No, I want you to. Be handsy.” You tell him again.

“Ok” he drawls out, “but don’t punch me.”

“I won’t.” You flutter your lashes at him to give the impression to this room of horny strangers that you’re flirting with Din.

Din gives a tiny shrug that you can feel more than see but then brings his free hand up to your face. His gloved hand slowly strokes your cheek as he then lets his fingers trace over your jaw and then down your neck and chest, slowing down even more as he reaches your cleavage and then just gently ghosts his fingers between your breasts before resting his hand just beneath them. You feel your breath hitch and get caught in your throat at the intimacy of his touch and you have to remind yourself that this is just for show, just to get these losers to stop hitting on you. Reminding yourself of the message you want to send, you wonder if this is too subtle. You need to make this definitive.

“Be a little more obvious,” you tell Din, the blush returning to your cheeks, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

“More?” Din tries to confirm, “What do you have in mind?”

“Put your hand up my skirt.”

“Ok, now that is definitely a trap.” he chuckles lightly.

“Do it. Put your hand up my skirt,” you practically demand.

“Well, I’m not going to say no to that,” he responds appearing to be amused by this whole situation. He takes his hand, starts to play with the hem of your dress, and then slowly starts to slide his hand up your thigh under your skirt kneading gently as he goes. You feel like you are dying, it is so sensual and so exactly what you have been dreaming of for weeks now. You knew he would be good at this and it’s killing you that it’s just an act. You squirm a little in his lap unable to help yourself and you think you can feel his own arousal, but you tell yourself you must be imagining it.

Din cannot believe this is happening, how is he this lucky? When he caught sight of the men hitting on you at the bar, he figured it was inevitable that you’d be surrounded by would-be suitors and he cursed himself for leaving you alone in a place like this even for a few minutes. A quick scan of the room showed him that you were absolutely the most beautiful woman there. Not that he was surprised, as he’s rarely seen anyone as stunningly gorgeous as you in his opinion. Plus, given this sexy dress you have on, he’s lucky he didn’t have to pry one of them off you. He noticed it right away before you left the ship earlier and had to put on your cloak, but he was hoping to keep that sight to himself. He knows he shouldn’t think of you that way, but he has given up trying to ignore his feelings for you. It’s not just your beauty, but who you are as a person. He’s never met anyone who’s so easy to talk to and who treats him with such respect and kindness. It shocks him how strongly he trusts you and the way he’s let down his guard around you. You might not realize it but you are the best friend he’s ever had, and although he wants more, he’s not quite ready to risk your friendship. If he messes this up, you might see him as just another jerk hitting on you.

Speaking of, Din figured his intimidating presence would keep the jerks away once he got back over to you, but these fools had clearly never met a Mandalorian before because they didn’t have the good sense to leave you alone even when he was standing right next to you. He had been sure he was going to have to punch the creep that grabbed you but then you were sitting in his lap before he had a chance to stand up and defend you. And now, now, he was cuddling with you in the middle of this crowded cantina, touching you in ways he hadn’t let himself dare to think about. He didn’t need the child’s powers to feel the waves of sheer envy coming off of the men in the room. He smirked to himself under his helmet, letting his hand slide up even higher on your thigh than he would have dared but just because he could.

You are becoming entirely swept away by Din’s ministrations on your thigh, and you hear yourself sighing his name, making him smile even more unbeknownst to you.

“Hmm?” he responds gently

“I--,” but you’re cut off by the waiter finally bringing the food.

“Here’s your order, sir” the waiter gives Din a look that is both impressed and jealous as you hide your face in Din’s neck mortified that you have gotten so carried away with this charade.

“Thanks.” Din tells him, slowly removing his hand from under your dress. You slide off his lap into the booth next to him so you can eat. Din keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders though and you’re still pressed up against his side. You turn away slightly towards the child who has been amusing himself somehow all this time. You give yourself a chance to regain your composure as you focus on giving him some food. You had started to forget the kid was even there and you feel your face flushing again at your shameless behavior. You take a deep breath and remind yourself that this was necessary, and as you glance around the cantina, you can see that no one is paying attention to you anymore. Your message was clearly received. You sigh to yourself and start to eat your dinner.

Din is relaxed and is enjoying the feel of his arm around you. Every so often, his other hand finds its way to your forearm and brushes over your wrist and hand, not quite trying to holding your hand but almost just to remind you that he’s there. It’s flirtatious and romantic in a way that you both love and can’t stand because you know you just want him to keep doing it. You finish your food slowly trying to find a way to prolong this interlude as much as you can, even if it’s not real. Din notices when you’re done though and says, “Ready to head back to the Crest?” You nod at him, knowing it’s for the best and figuring he must be hungry too. You pick up the child and slide out of the booth following Din. He takes the baby from you and secures him in his satchel before reaching back to take your hand. Din threads his fingers through yours and leads you out of the cantina before the jealous eyes of all the other men who tried to claim you for their own earlier. He holds your hand all the way back to the ship and you let yourself bask in the moment, imagining the two of you as a real couple.

Once you’re back on the ship, you busy yourself with putting the child to bed. He’s already drowsy and practically asleep when you get him secure in his hammock. When you turn back around, Din is just watching you, standing there. You can’t imagine what he’s thinking. You suppose you should give him some privacy, let him have a chance to eat his own dinner, but before you do, you figure you ought to say something after all that.

“Thank you, for doing… for helping me out,” you feel rather flustered and it’s making you babble, “back there.” “I just couldn’t get those guys to bug off.”

“It was my pleasure,” he responds rather cheekily, “I figured I was going to get into a bar brawl, but I liked your idea a hell of a lot better.” He tilts his helmet at you and you can swear that you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, thank you, again” you say softly. He steps closer to you and you’re practically touching him as he looks down at you and says with a chuckle, “Any time you need me to feel you up again, just let me know.”

And before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “I will.”

He laughs and tips his head down to you, “Message received.”

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[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 17/?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name.

So, when I started this, I didn’t expect it to become what it is, or for it to really be taken seriously. I wrote it because I wanted to get better at storytelling, and now I’m averaging 20 notes a day. That’s insane to me.

Warnings: Eludes to sex, mentions of trauma, mentions of court system, victim blaming, mentions of injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Waking up next to Jason was becoming something of a routine for Y/N. It had been 4 days in a row that she woke up next to him or with him in arm’s reach. She loved that about their relationship, how quickly they both could fall asleep with each other.

She rolled over in her bed and realized Jason was sweating and clutching the sheets. She leant over him slightly and turned on the fan, hoping he would sweat less so he could be in less pain.

She didn’t know what would actually stop the pain, she didn’t actually know if he was in pain. She reached out to stroke his back, just trying to comfort him, it seemed to work. He didn’t exactly reject her advances to rub his back. But he did jump a bit when she touched him.

She didn’t want him to be hurt by her touching him, so she did attempt to wake him up. He didn’t answer her though, so she got up from her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked rough like she had been crying all night about the trial. Makeup running, eyes puffy, bloodshot. But what else did she expect after that trial? She didn’t remember anything.

She decided to shower, in her own shower. It had been 3 days since she last showered, which was okay but it wasn’t something she was used to.

She got into her shower and just thought. She was fucked up. She had been fucked up this entire time, she had hidden secrets from Jason, from everyone. She thought it was selfish, immature, and irresponsible that she did that. But she also didn't know how to talk to them all. 

How do I even start that conversation? Hey, I’m fucked up, help me. I’m sorry, I messed up, she thought, I can’t do that, I can’t.

She got out of the shower and glanced at the clock like she would normally, it was 4:00am. That’s new, she thought, I didn’t know it was this early, maybe I should not have showered.

She smiled to herself a bit and took care of her face, doing a facial routine, just trying to calm herself and come off that high she was on for the majority of the day before. She knew she had to take care of herself to help her become stable again.

She knew what she did yesterday was linked to trauma, she just knew it. She didn’t know what it was, or how to combat it. But she knew she would probably not be mentally capable of watching the rest of the trial, and that was okay with her, she didn’t want to watch the rest of the trial. She would ignore her professor if he asked her to write anything about the trial. She knew he likely couldn’t because of her connections, but she wasn’t going to get mad at him.

She didn’t want to get mad at anyone for this. Opinions about the trial, asking her to talk about it, anything, she didn’t want to hate.

Jason was still asleep when she reentered her room. She smiled at him, wishing he was awake with her at that moment. She went to her notes at her desk and sighed, she guessed she would sit down and do some work. She pulled out her journal and wrote;

To each member of my family, somehow we reached here,

I’ve ended up with people wanting to hurt me,

Here we see the pain of there,

Maybe three.

I guess I can’t write poetry,

Maybe it’s all I see,

The pain, the torture, the people who hurt,

What am I doing?

She scribbled down a dying rose. She didn’t know why she did all of that. Normally she didn’t feel like that. Poetry was a good way to get all of the emotions out. Her journal had a lot, a lot, of insane writings and drawings of things she felt.

She guessed she was fucked up. But she thought the things wrong with her would make her art better. She needed therapy, probably. She was going to look into that, she decided in those moments. Therapy may help her cope with a lot of the stuff that she dealt with.

Or was she aware that she’d never be fixed?

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

She sat at her desk after making a quick coffee. It was still only 5:00am, and she was organizing her notes, just thinking. Maybe she’d paint something. Maybe she’d get a picture of the Wayne Manor Gardens and paint it. She just wanted something to fiddle with if she was going to be harassed if she left the house. She probably wasn't going to be able to leave the house for a while.

She was fine with that, she didn’t like it but she didn’t hate it either. She just wished for the trial to be over, even if the man was found not guilty of the charges.

And the longer the painting project, the longer she could spend locked away from the media. That was just all that she wanted, to walk away from the media while still keeping Jason.

He was still sleeping. She didn’t notice because she was so entranced in her own art, but he was struggling at that moment.

And then she noticed.

She got up and went to her bed and sat beside his head on the floor. She stroked his hair and tried to comfort him when he woke up.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“You alright?” she asked.

He turned his back to her, so she stroked it.

“It’s okay if you’re not alright, baby,” she said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She crawled into bed with him and became the big spoon for a bit. She didn’t say anything to him, he didn’t say anything to her. He was sticky and sweaty, but she didn’t care.

Silence was killing for most people, but she sat through it and allowed him to be quiet. 

She wished for the stories behind his scars, but she didn’t want to push for them. They hadn’t been together for long enough for her to ask about it. But she loved to trace his scars with her fingers, just letting him know she knew about them. She didn’t know how he felt about it. But she tried to be kind and loving towards his scars.

Some were small holes. Some were small lines. Some were long lines. One was Y-Shaped on his chest. One existed on his cheek and she couldn’t make out what it was. 

She didn’t think that he was lesser because of his scars. He thought he was lesser for his scars.

“Hey, Jay. Do you want to eat breakfast? It’s 6:00am, we can dip to get food?” she asked, trying to make him feel better.

“If you don’t mention the nightmares, sure.”

“I won’t.”

He rolled over to her and smiled before kissing her.

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

They got up a couple hours later, clothes strewn across her room, boxers and pants torn. She laughed, hoping he would still have clothes to wear.

“Don’t laugh, I might have nothing to wear!”

“I hope you have something to wear, babe.”

“And what if I don’t? We were pretty messy.”

“We were, but still. If you have nothing we’re kind of fucked,” she said, glaring.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Just stop staring at me like that! It takes two to tango!”

“The forbidden horizontal tango,” she said between laughs.

“The forbidden horizontal tango is now  the only way I am going to refer to sex.”

“I mean as you should.”

“My family is going to kill me for calling sex that.”

“I mean as they should,” she laughed, “Did you find clothes?” she asked, having already gotten dressed.

“Okay that’s unfair, you can’t wear new clothes when I’m stuck with ripped boxers.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have worn them in the first place,” she said, laughing, “And to be fair, Jay, I’m the one with clothes and you didn’t follow your own suggestion for an overnight bag.”

“Okay, listen, first of all,” he grabbed her, “That’s obviously my fault but shush, secondly, you’re dressing very black today,” he observed.

“Felt I would look the part of dating a Wayne.”

“No one’s going to see you.”

“That’s the point. I’m an invisible partner of a Wayne.”

“Well, I think you look nice.”

“I’m glad,” she laughed, “How ripped are your clothes?”

“Decently. Not noticeably, but decently.”

“Fun! Shall we go?”

He laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her lightly to the car and getting in to drive. 

“You ever think the vigilantes around here have complex lives?” she thought aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they have crazy, fulfilling lives like us, or are they just there to be heroes of the night? Are they sitting there wondering if they’re going to come home to their partners or if their parents are worried about them?” she questioned.

He sat there, looking forward. If only you knew. If only you knew what I go through, what everyone goes through. He managed to laugh and blow her off, “Maybe they’re just robots made to fight crooks in alleyways.”

“I’m serious. What if they’re all out there worried they’re going to die?”

“C’mon now.”

“Jay! They’re people!”

“They’re probably okay, baby. I doubt they’re out there almost dying.”

She wanted to say ‘You almost died’ but she bit her tongue, “That’s probably true. But it’s always something I thought, even when I lied in Metropolis with god damn Superman. I always wondered if he had a home to go to.”

“Who knows. Who knows.”

“They would. Maybe I should get a job as a reporter, interview some of them. Say ‘Fuck it’ and know if they have homes.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“How?”

“My Aunt, Iris, Barry’s wife? She’s a reporter. She’s on the frontlines for the supervillains and the small-time crooks of the world.”

“So anything and everything in between? Festive.”

“Well, that’s the life of a reporter. Journalists? Like my Uncle? He deals with a lot less bullshit unless they link him to Bruce. Iris is a reporter so she’s constantly there, Clark is usually never there.”

“Well, we at least know the elusive reporter and journalist have families,” she joked and he laughed.

“The elusive reporter and journalist in their natural habitats, my favourite National Geographic episode.”

She looked out her window at the streets and the people. She hadn’t been outside at night recently on the streets of Gotham, and she missed it. There was always something about it that made her keep coming back. Maybe it was the orphaned kids that she would go and make sure were okay. Maybe it was the fact that she watched one of the vigilantes swing to another roof.

She still remembered that moment well. She thought it was amazing, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her to have experienced. She wished she knew more, even if she just knew which one they were. So she could go on the forums and ask if people had spoken to them. Maybe it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, maybe others had witnessed what she did, but she wouldn’t know if she did not know which it was.

“Hey, random question, do you know the vigilantes' names in the city?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah? Why?” he responded.

“Okay so, the first night I walked home from your house after my car got towed right? I saw one of them. I’m not familiar with the vigilantes of the city, so: Do you know which one is the one with the blue bird symbol on their chest?”

“Oh, that one’s Nightwing. He seems cool, I don’t know, never actually met the guy.”

“Don’t Wayne Galas get attacked by villains on the regular though?”

“That doesn’t mean we get to talk to them,” he laughed, “It would be cool if we did, though.”

“Yeah it would. Would be a killer story for your Uncle and Aunt.”

“They are the only tabloids I liked because they leave us alone.”

“No reports from the Daily Planet about the Waynes?” she joked.

“God, Dad would probably half-jokingly sue Clark over that. Like sue him for 3 dollars or somethin’ levels of jokingly suing him.”

“Now, that, that would be a story for the tabloids.”

“Remind me to tell Dad about that, maybe it’ll get the press off your back.”

“You say that like your extended family cares about my trials.”

“They do, they wonder how you found yourself wrapped up in 2 crimes in the span of 2 weeks.”

“I wish I knew how I did that.”

He laughed, “If only we knew.”

“I guess we go get breakfast now, fast food?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m not eating in a restaurant with this high of a profile recently, my god,” she laughed.

“Alright, anything in particular? I can just order for you if you’re not up to talking to some people.”

“Go for it.”

“Alright.”

She didn’t pay attention while he ordered, instead she opened her lovely cellphone. And there they were, the tabloids click baiting the trials she was involved in. She rolled her eyes, knowing most of them were wrong, when she saw the article written by Clark Kent about it. She was tempted to read it, to know what Clark said. She figured he’d be an unbiased source fo information, but also likely more on her side than the defendant’s side. She didn’t even know the defendant's name.

She tapped on it and began reading.

The Case of The Court Versus David Brown.

Brown is a man known to the courts of Gotham, and the county jail of Gotham. When he was accused of assaulting a young woman, Ms. Y/N (Last name), not many members of the Gotham Police Force were shocked.

On the first day of the trial, Brown was asked to plead, to which he said, “Not guilty, your honor,” which is under a lot of scrutiny of those who have seen the video of Ms. (Last name) running from Brown in the alleyway where she head-butted him.

The prosecution opened their case,

“Ms. (Last name) was assaulted by the defendant, there is no question about it. The question here is if his motive was for the ransom Ms. (Last name) referenced in her interview with police after the event. The defendant very clearly went after Ms. (Last name) because of her ties to the billionaire Bruce Wayne, who would have easily paid the ransom for her if she hadn’t escaped.

The defense opened their case,

The question of whether or not my client assaulted Ms. (Last name) is not up for debate, he did assault her. However, it was in self-defense. She had assaulted him first, pulling him into the alleyway and attempting to make advances on him. She twisted the story in her on words to include the head-butting incident, in reality, my client punched her for her advances.

The people who watched the first event of the trial have noted being “Disgusted” and “Annoyed” at the practices that the defense brought to court, “Slandering the name of Ms. (Last name) when she is the victim.” many people are upset with the defense in this trial.

The next day of the trial should take place within a week. Until then, the questions are not going to be answered.

She looked at the defense's argument numerous times. She was in shock that they would accuse her of such bullshit. She was terrified that they would get away with this, when Jason pulled her out of her thoughts with a coffee.

“You shouldn’t get so involved in the tabloids right now, love.”

“Sorry, if it makes you feel better your Uncle wrote it. And thank you.”

“Anytime. I guess Clark wrote it well, but you watched the trial?”

“I don’t remember it.”

“You’re probably not going to watch more of it, are you?”

‘No way,” she said while drinking her coffee as they drove back to her house.

“That’s fair. No one expected you to be able to be able ot watch it.”

She nodded and kept drinking, “They made up so much bullshit.”

“They did, oh my god, I was pissed, baby. I was so god damn mad. Because what the fuck do you gain from lying?”

“Don’t even put that question in the universe, you know they’ll try to answer it the next time they’re in trial.”

“God you’re right,” he laughed, “Got you a breakfast sandwich. At least the dammed tabloids can’t take that away from us.”

“Thank god,” she laughed, “Thank you.”

“Seriously, anytime. It’s worth it.”

“You’ve spent so much money on me.”

“Pocket change.”

“Well, duh. Trust-fund baby.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll take you somewhere when I’m less high-profile. Maybe we’ll fake a breakup to keep everyone off my ass so we can go somewhere.”

“Fake a breakup? Wouldn't that just make you hated?”

“I’m already hated. I’m a gold-digger, a whore, a cheater, a statistic, a suicidal maniac, a homicidal maniac, a psychopath, I can go on and on about the shit being said about me.”

“Man, people need to keep their mouths shut.”

“You could say that again- don’t actually. But like, what the fuck did I do to deserve this, honestly? All I did was go on a date with you to get bombarded, yes, I do treat the press unfairly, but I do my best to never say a bad word about them publically, just jokes,” she joked, “I hate this,” she laughed.

“I hate tihs too,” he laughed, “You’re worth it though.”

“Oh man, a week into dating, two weeks into knowing each other and we’re here.”

“We should be anywhere else but in the midst of these terrible circumstances.”

“It’s unfortunate.”

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

Drinking her coffee on her bed with Jason beside her was something else, it was probably the most they had branched out in 4 days. The silence was lovely now that neither of them were having issues. They ate and drank in silence. They didn’t need constant conversation to prove that the enjoyed the presence of each other. 

She took a minute to take it all in, the messy shelves in her bedroom, the place on her desk where her laptop belonged, the broken handle to her bathroom door, the sheets on her bed which had been pulled and ruffled from Jason and her having fun. 

She looked out her window and looked at the rain starting to pour and decided to cuddle closer to Jason. He was warm but had a presence of underwhelming coldness to him, like he gave off fake body heat. She didn’t know what it was, but the extremes of his body were something she enjoyed but hated.

The exposition between his black hair to his white tuff of hair, the rough eyebrows to the small and delicate freckles, the blue of his eyes which seemed to glow green. The way it was like she was driving down a road, full speed ahead, and crashed into a wall, that was how it felt to be with Jason.

But who doesn’t love to die in a fiery accident into a wall at 500mph?

She laughed internally at her own joke about him before grabbing his hand and yanking him into the living room and past her roommate, A/N. A/N did not question it, because there was a new life to her roommate recently.

She dragged him out into the rain, to which he protested.

“What the fuck, respectfully?”

She laughed, “Don’t be respectful, and trust me. I’m going to make a movie moment.”

“I’m getting wet.”

“That’s my job,” she joked as she turned on a slow song before going to Jason and dancing with him.

“Well, can’t say I’ve done this,” he said.

“I don’t think most couples do.”

“Then why are we?” he asked

“Uh, yolo? You only live once, might as well dance in the rain with one of your lovers?” she retorted.

“One of them? Am I not the only one?”

“Oh no, you are,” she laughed, “But who knows, maybe we’ll fuck monogamy up the ass,” she joked.

“Probably not.”

“Probably not.”

And they danced for a few hours. Twirling and dipping in the rain. Watching the clothes they were wearing get more and more wet until the the white parts of Y/N’s dress were see-through, which took a while considering how small they were. 

Their hair was soaked and her makeup was running but they didn’t care. They were having fun, and no one was going to stop them, not a villain, not a vigilante, no one. He would wipe away her makeup since it was basically already off her face and laugh.

“Your makeup looked nice before we came out here.”

“I bet! The rain’s probably washing it all way, did I look like I was crying?”

“You looked like you were sobbing.”

She laughed, “You love to see it, you really do.”

The music was basically drowned out by the rain. It was on her phone, so it was probably water damaged from the rain, but no one cared. They just wanted to have fun.

But the dancing got tired because of the fact that Y/N was in heels, so she went and picked up her phone. It wasn’t damaged. She looked at her recent texts while Jason tugged her lightly to the bathroom, to see that Bruce Wayne, Jason’s dad, had paid off her car and it was being driven back to her house.

“Hey baby?”

“Y/N?”

“Did you tell your dad to pay off my car?”

“Oh, yeah. I figured it’d get impounded and my dad could just wait a while for you to pay back. It getting impounded was going to cost you more money.”

“God you're right and I hate that.”

He laughed and kissed her before turning on the shower.

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

That was the second time that day that they had had sex. It was impressive that they had had sex that many times, and that many rounds. They thought it was fun as all hell to have sex whenever they had the chance.

Maybe they were saying “Suck it” to Bruce, or maybe they were just having fun. Maybe it was both.

“You look so cute with my hand around your neck,” he said behind her before lightly grabbing her neck and pulling her head back to his chest. He buried his face in her shoulder.

“He says while looking down,” she joked.

“I’ll squeeze.”

“Jay, we just showered. C’mon. Keep it in your pants.”

He groaned, “No fun,” he tilted his head into the crook of her neck and started leaving little kisses.

“Jay, C’mon.”

He sighed, “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. I guess we can stop,” he jokingly-whined at her, “At least we can kiss.”

“That’s true, but get dressed.”

“Get dressed!” he whined to her, “In this economy!”

“God dammnit,” she laughed, “Stay naked then and I’ll eat your food.”

“Don’t you dare.”

[thebadboyfanclub]

We’ll See About That (Elijah x Klaus x Reader)

Requested by anon. I wrote this two times cause my laptop decided to be an asshole and wouldn’t let me post it. Enjoy

(Y/n) was raised by her parents and the small pack of werewolves they belonged a few miles away from New Orleans. However she wasn’t a child brought to life as a result of a happy marriage, her mother married her father because of an arranged marriage, so s he fell in love with a warlock while being stuck at a toxic marriage. When (y/n) was born everything became worse, her father started to suspect and her mother took her stuff and (y/n) in the middle of the night and left, she was only 11 but she was thrilled to leave everything behind.

However, she never cared for the whole werewolf thing nor cared if she was a witch, she was spiritual yes, meditating and cleansing her house, having different type of tarot decks and aligning her chakra was something that brought her peace, but going in further was like dipping your fingers in the honey jar and expecting your hands to not get sticky.

(Y/n) studied abroad, once again leaving everything behind and making her own memories and decisions as a young adult. She knew that to “active” the wolf gene meant you have to kill somebody and she never had that intention, one night though when a man decided to follow her home and attack her, she lost control and had to not only deal with activating the curse but also dealing with the police and finding a way to keep her criminal record clean.

As graduation rolled around (y/n) decided to go back to the U.S.A, New Orleans to be exact. She could never go back to the pack her dad belong, she hadn’t talked to him in years and she doubted he would want to help,so her mother told her that a lot of different people have their home in New Orleans, so she decided to try her luck there.

-

“A pretty woman like you alone? It must be my birthday”

It was (y/n)’s first night in New Orleans, so she decided to go and have a drink, maybe get an idea or two on how to find someone that is willing to help her. She was sitting peacefully drinking her cocktail when a tipsy and absolute douche approached her. 

“Well go find a cake, cause I for sure ain’t giving you any”

“Too bad, i’m sure your icing taste great”

Her facial expression showed how disgusted she was by the vulgar comment, she was about to answer a man when she saw a man nudge the annoying creep and take her hand in his.

“My sincere apologies for keeping you waiting love, you look beautiful”

He brought her hand up to his lips and looked at her right in the eyes, the wink he gave her made her understand what his plan was at. She smiled brightly at the kind stranger

“No worries babe, let me introduce you to this absolute creep that tried to hit on me”

“Oh how amusing. Listen mate, you have two options, one is to keep going at this and force me into take actions that will make me your worst nightmare, second is go on with your night while your arms are still attached to your body. Choice is yours”

He didn’t even say anything, he just looked down and left, (y/n) could see his already fragile ego crumble right in front of her. She started laughing, finding the entire situation cut out of a comedy.

“Thank you so much, let me buy you a drink”

“I think it goes the other way around love”

“It’s the 21st century, also you deserve one for scaring him to death. I’m (y/n) by the way”

“Klaus, pleasure to officially meet you”

They ended up talking and drinking for hours on end, the conversation flowed effortlessly making them feel comfortable with each other. Klaus walked (y/n) home at the wee hours of the morning, oh how beautiful she looked as the first streaks of sunlight caressed her face. They hugged and made a promise to see each other again

-

(y/n) slept until 3 p.m and woke up to her stomach demanding food after the back to back drinks she had last night with her new friend. She did her morning routine and decided into putting on a yellow sundress and placed her hair up into a quick updo, last was her moisturizer and sun screen, to protect her skin but also give her a nice glow and she was ready to hit the streets.

She got distracted by a very talented musician that played on the side of the road when she bumped into a mans back. As Elijah turned around all he saw was light, he couldn’t really put it into words but the woman that was standing right there looked like she was surrounded by the holy light and angels. 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking at where I was going”

If sirens every existed, she was one of them. Her voice sounded like little singing bells and those eyes, her gaze could stop the devil. He was so astonished by her beauty that he didn’t realized the human like fairy had stopped talking, making him look like he was mute.

“It’s alright dear, no need to worry”

“I got distracted, I am usually very aware of my surroundings”

“I understand, this town is full of distractions. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Elijah”

“Ohhh YOU are Elijah”

“Pardon?”

(Y/n) remembered the name from last night. Klaus had mentioned how him and his brother Elijah with his sister Rebekah came back to town. Of course Elijah was not aware of that conversation

“Your brother Klaus, I met him yesterday when he came to my rescue. I’m new here so he kept me company”

“What a kind and rare thing for my brother to do”

Of course Klaus would put his best foot forward when he meets a girl, well at least she was not hurt by him nor by anyone, such a shame for a miracle like her to get harmed. Regardless of that, Elijah got an incredible idea

“Well since my brother made a friend-which never really happens- I like to say that they are my friends as well, so would you accept my offer and accompany at our home for dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh you don’t have to, it’s fine”

“I insist, since you are new here someone should show you hospitality”

(Y/n) couldn’t really keep up with this whole thing, two handsome brothers coming to her aid and wanting to bring her over for dinner, it was almost too good to be true. She would dumb if she didn’t accept

“Fine, but i’ll warn you I have a big appetite”

-

As Elijah informed his brother of the interaction he had with (y/n) and the invitation he gave her for dinner the brothers started to sharpen their knives. Both of them requesting specific dishes from the chef they hired, arguing over what wine goes best and what music should they play or if there’s going to be music.

The hours passed and (y/n) stood outside their door. Klaus was the one to greet her first, he was stunned when he saw her. Her hair was down and curly, she wore a satin maxi dress with a plunging neckline and a slit on the side that showed her right leg.

“You really outdid yourself love, you look ravishing”

“Why thank you Klaus, you look amazing in this suit as well”

Klaus had chosen a formal attire for the evening, a black suited he had tailored back in the 20s, you could never go wrong with a classic.Klaus offered her his arm and she linked hers with his, walking in the house that looked like it was cut out of a fairytale.

“(y/n) you arrived, I must say that you are breathtaking”

“Thank you Elijah, you look very handsome as well, do you sleep with a suit on?”

Klaus took the opportunity and pulled a chair back for (y/n), helping her and then took his seat as well.

The night passed beautifully,(y/n) felt so pampered and the brothers felt euphoric by being at her good graces, they also spend the entire night keeping mental notes on who (y/n) smiled more, who’s joked she laughed, what compliments she gave, what foods she liked and most importantly who she talked to more. As the night came to an end (y/n) insisted into taking her car, besides two glasses of wine were nothing compared to the tons of alcohol she consumed when she was in college.

“Thank you for everything tonight, it was truly amazing”

“Of course love, with a guest like you anything else would have been an embarrassment, right brother?”

“Yes that’s quite right Klaus, we hope to see you again then”

“For sure, I wouldn’t pass on tasting that delicious food again”

She hugged both of them and then they saw her disappearing into the night, leaving them both with the sweet taste of happiness that they got to dine with such a magical being, they had to agree that (y/n) was the most peaceful and calming human being they have met.

“Well brother, I am happy you bravely put on a fight but I think I’ll take it from here”

“We’ll see about that Niklaus” 

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

two - the calm after the storm

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: bad language (as usual), underage drinking, fear of drowning and deep waters, mention of a hurricane, probably some mistakes too lol

Description: After the surge hit the island, the pogues decide to enjoy a nice day out on the hms pogue, until they find something unusual hidden in the marsh.

A/n : hey there buckaroos, I know I just posted the previous part but I felt so bad for not updating sooner. So here ya go. Hope you like it :)

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

Song recommendation:

There was always something really weird about the day right after a hurricane. It was like that feeling when you know something isn’t right but can’t quite put your finger on it, at least that’s what it was like for y/n. She found those days both extremely stressful and relaxing at the same time. As a child she never had to worry about the stressful part, but as someone who lived alone with two teenage boys and no adults, it was pretty nerve racking. She used to wake up really late on those days, enjoying the silence and comfort that reigned inside the Château. It was not something she did anymore.

When big John disappeared, John B and her had to learn how to take care of themselves. And that also meant becoming more responsible. So here she was, at 9:30 in the morning, standing in the fruit aisle of the grocery store, debating whether to buy cherries or peaches.

Fuck it, she thought putting both in her shopping cart.

You see living without parents at 16 also brought a thing called learning things the hard way. For example, if ever there’s a big storm or hurricane hitting your town and there’s a chance of the power being cut, you have to go grocery shopping before. Otherwise you have only two options. Either wake up at the butt crack of dawn and hunt down which grocery store is still open (and that’s only if no one else raided it before you ). Or you have to survive on the only things still good in your pantry - probably molded bread and peanut butter- until the nearest store opens.

Y/n being the intelligent teenager she was, decided to go with option one. So she woke up super early, wrote a note for her brother - which he probably wouldn’t even see, carefully attached a cooler to back of her bicycle and made her way into town. It was now almost two hours later. She had finished buying the necessities for the next few days and had already put all the perishable things inside her cooler and taped it shut so it wouldn’t spill its content onto the road.

She looked at her phone quickly. The hurricane had not only taken away the power but also the cell service towers. Which meant she couldn’t contact any of her friends at the moment. A sigh leaving her lips, she made her way to Kie’s house, hoping the other pogues hadn’t already picked her up.

“Hey, girlie,” her friend greeted as she turned into the driveway. “Hey, cutie,” y/n responded, placing her bike against the side of the house. “The pogues haven’t come by yet?”

“Nope, it’s just you and me for now. Come, we’ll go chat one the deck until they come.” Kiara motioned to the dock further away. “So, how bad is it at the chateau?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” she sat down beside Kiara, “no power, leaking roof, the yard is pretty dirty too, oh and I think a tree fell down.”

“Yikes.”

The two girls looked away in the distance as they heard the sound of a boat engine approaching them. “I think that’s our ride.”

Y/n saw her brother nudge JJ’s arm and point at her. “See, I told you she’d be here.”

“I left you a note, dumbass, didn’t know you couldn’t read anymore,” she put her cooler and her backpack onto the boat before getting in. “I went to get food for the week so we wouldn’t, you know, starve.” JJ snickered at her comment.

“Well, good morning to you too, y/n/n.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Here’s your breakfast, you greedy cow.” She tossed him a breakfast burrito. It was still warm and fresh, bringing a tasty smell in the air as it flew from y/n’s hand to her brother’s.

“Hey, no need for such words, I was only being polite.” Stated John B. “Thank you, for feeding me, my dearest sister.” Y/n cringed at his horrible impression of a British accent.

Just as she was going to make a joke about it, she noticed something sticky on her arm. Turning her head to the front of the boat, her eyes landed on JJ. He was, once again, trying his stupid beer trick, which failed and only resulted in splashing alcohol everywhere but in his mouth.

As she heard all of her friends complain about his behaviour, she decided it was enough and got up. She was about to take the bottle out of the blond’s hand, when the boat crashed into something. The impact had been hard enough to eject JJ out of the boat and make him fall right into the marsh.

“Ugh,” y/n groaned loudly. Since she had been standing when the boat stopped, she had tripped and fell into a very uncomfortable position. She had landed butt first on the hard metal edge of the boat, hitting her thigh at the same time.

“Jesus, Pope!” Kie said from where she was seated.

“You okay, JJ?”

“I think my heels touched the back of my head.” Usually, this kind of remark would have made y/n laugh, or even smile, but right now, she was not in the mood for laughter.

“Is everyone else okay? Y/n? Kie?” John B offered his hand to his friend. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“I think I broke my ass,” y/n winced as pain shot in her leg. “God, I never knew I was that flexible.”

The girl untangled her legs from the unnatural position they were forced into and reached for the cooler, taking a beer bottle inside. To minimize the pain she walked in a penguin-like way, taking very small steps. She must have looked very ridiculous doing so due to the weird look Pope gave her. She hissed as the cold of the bottle hit her leg. “What even was that?”

“Sandbar. The channel changed .” JJ swam back towards the hms. “No shit.” “Ugh this is probably gonna mess this whole place up.”

Pope approached the end of the boat, looking down with confusion painted on his face. “Guys,” his eyebrows scrunched even more, his eyes focusing on something hidden in the depth of the water. “I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Shut up.” “What?” “No way.” “Uh?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at the spot where Pope’s gaze was fixed. To her surprise there was actually a boat there, sunken and stuck into a pile of sand.

“Oh my god.” She looked back at her friends behind her. “He’s right!” She focused her attention back to the boat, trying to catch details of it. A thought crossed her mind. Could it be? No, it couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. There was no way that was her father’s boat down there, right?

“Guys.. Is this?” Y/n looked at her brother, he had thought the same thing as her. “It’s a boat!” Pope shouted with excitement.

“Holy shit he’s right, let’s go!”

Y/n’s friends all rushed to remove their clothes and jumped into the water. They seemed so excited. A small feeling of anxiety grew in the pit of her stomach. She felt left out, but at the same time she was scared. She practically knew the marsh like the back of her hand and yet she couldn’t help but worry. She looked down at the boat, it was way too far, she could never swim that deep.

The girl winced as she sat on the tip of the boat. She was looking at her four friends, their figures slowly shrinking as they swam deeper. When she looked at them it seemed so easy. Here they were swimming so carelessly. Why couldn’t that be her. Maybe one day she’d get over her phobia, but for now, it seemed impossible.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the heads of her friends reappeared at the surface. She could hear them talk with excitement, but they were too far for her to understand exactly what they were saying. Clearly, they had found something.

“You guys found anything cool?” She offered her hand to Kie. “It’s a Grady White,” JJ shook his wet hair. “A new one of these is like 500 Gs easy.”

“It’s a primo rig.”

“Yeah, that’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge.” JB added, making his sister’s smile disappear. “Maybe it hit the jetty or something.”

“You surfed the surge?” Kiara’s tone dripped with worry. “What the heck.” Her voice lowered down as she spoke those last few words. “That’s my boy! Pogue style!” JJ encouraged, giving a slight pat to John’s back.

Y/n frowned at his words. “Please don’t encourage him, J.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “It was a very stupid thing to do.”

“Wait, wait. Do we even know whose boat it is?” “No, but we’re about to find out.”

“Wait ,” y/n gripped her brother’s arm, “ are you sure it’s safe?” “Yeah dude, it’s too deep.”

John B bent down to pick up the anchor from the compartment where it was kept. “Only for the weak and feeble JJ.” “Well, I’m not resuscitating you I’m just making that clear.”

“That’s fine.” He turned to his sister, who was looking at him with worried eyes. “Please be safe, okay bird?” She was using the nickname their father had given him when they were younger. She barely used it anymore, so he knew she was really worried.

“I promise,” he nudged her shoulder softly, “little bug.” “Diver down, fool.”

“Diver down.”

Taglist

@drewswannabegirl @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @poguestyle17 @im-a-stranger-thing @lasnaro @thoughtsofthestars @briandaflores19 @lunaposey @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc

This means it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[dontbeunraisonable]

Little Yellow Flower - Kaminari Denki x GN!Reader

This was a request from my one of my darling amigas who is not on tumblr. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: swearing i guess, one (1) bad pick up line

Denki has to be the most dense person you have ever met in your life. The first day of class he was “laying on the charm”, showering compliments and offering to show you around the school even though you were both first years and he got lost looking for the bathroom.

The compliments were about anything from your eyes to your smile to the way you wrote your notes to the way you tied your tie. The dedication and attention was endearing. So, naturally, you flirted back.

You talked about how cute his smile is, how his training has improved his quirk, how funny he could be, his hair. You reverse uno card his ass and started using cheesy pick up lines.

“It’s handy I have my library card with me,” you said, jokingly lowering your invisible sunglasses,” ‘cause I’m definitely checking you out.”

A bunch of third years shushed you two as you both cracked up while (pretending to be) studying in the library. But it was worth the glares, as his giggling was the most wonderful thing you had ever heard in your life.

You always paired up with him for group projects, even though he sucks at them, just to have an excuse to sit with him and hang out one-on-one. Because you guys definitely did not work hard on those projects.

Unfortunately, he seemed oblivious to the fact that you liked him. So you slowly came to the conclusion that all his joking around was just that: jokes. You weren’t hurt or offended, as flirting between friends wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t leading you on or anything, you had just misread his intentions.

You just continued your flirtatiousness, but wondered if your conclusion changed your behaviour unknowingly. Were you flirting too often now? Too infrequently? Would he notice if there was a difference?

Luckily for you, Denki did not notice, as he was coming to the same conclusion to you, and was worrying about the same things. What if all his flirting just looked like joking around between two friends? That’s how it began, just goofing around with a cute classmate, but somewhere along the line, he realized that he actually did have feelings for his best friend.

No one noticed the new tension between the two of you, and each of you were hoping it was just your imagination that things were more awkward.

That brings us up to now, where you are currently herding a brain-dead Denki out of the training grounds. You weren’t sure why Aizawa Sensei kept putting you two together, but neither of you were complaining.

Today had been more combat training, and Denki had stayed intact for a while, but at the end he decided to go out with a bang. He did well, but now you had to drag his ass back to the locker rooms. You held his hand and slowly led him. He was babbling and wiggling around, getting distracted by everything. You were never letting Sensei assign you the farthest training spot again. You didn’t have a particularly short fuse, but damn were you impatient to go and take a shower and get a snack. You were both covered in sweat, and your gym uniform was sticky. This was not a hot moment for you.

Denki somehow slipped his hand out of your grasp and bent down to grab something off the ground. You turned to him tiredly, wondering if he was gonna pick up a bug, debating which was worse: him shoving it in your face or him trying to eat it.

“Hey,” you sighed, tapping his shoulder, “can we keep going I really wanna-”

You were cut off by a small flower being shoved in your face. It was a little yellow flower, one that came from a weed that had sprung up in a crack in the sidewalk. He dropped it in your hands and bounced off, the idea of a snack finally permeating his thick skull and entering his brain.

“Alright”, you thought. “That’s it.”

You caught up to the bouncing fool, and when he paused to giggle “wheyyy”, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. All you could taste was his sweat, and you think you might have smashed your nose in a bit too hard. But that giggle of his erased the worries from your mind, and the two of you continued on.

That night, after a nice shower and plenty of food, you were working on homework. You had procrastinated on an assignment rather skillfully, and now you had to really pound this one out or you’d be screwed.

But your brain was a little busy at the moment. He was brain dead, so he surely wouldn’t remember the lil cheek smooch right? Right? God, you hoped so. How could you play that one off as just joking around? ‘Haha yeah you don't kiss your homies? Huh weird haha sorry bout that man’. That is not convincing in the least!

No matter how many times you looked at your mathematics book, your mind replayed his cute little giggle. The yellow flower was sitting on your desk.

You prayed that this wouldn’t hurt your friendship.

Your phone buzzed, waking you from your daydreams. Denki had texted you.

“Ayo you busy? I dont wanna do english”

You hadn’t seen him since you got back to the locker rooms, as you kept missing each other, and the fact that he didn’t seem to text any different assured you that he had no idea what happened.

“No come on over. I dont wanna do maths”

A few minutes later you heard him at your door. “Hello?” he called out in the highest possible falsetto.

“Hello,” you said in your most intimidating and deep voice.

He opened the door, peeking his head through with a weird smile on his face. You mimicked him, flashing him your worst smile. He closed the door behind him and flopped onto your bed.

“I think Mic Sensei wants me dead. I can’t memorize vocab to save my life and he gave us homophones. The quiz is in two days and I have decided to quit hero school and become a professional gamer.”

“With your aim? You’re better off staying in school, my guy.”

He wiped fake tears from his face, and suddenly noticed the flower of honor on your desk. A slight rush of heat went to the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden from your view. But you still noticed his pause.

He turned to face you, his look falling from your face to your hands. “So,” he said, a new hesitancy in his words, “are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You looked at the elephant shaped eraser in your hand. “You got something to say about my eraser, you snob? This is a wonderful eraser and it doesn’t have those weird smudgy things like your nasty one does.”

Denki snorted. “No, I’m sure your eraser is amazing. I meant… you know, what happened earlier? After training?”

Your heart stopped. “Oh. Right. That.”

You looked away from him and nervously scratched at the back of your neck. You had almost convinced yourself that you were okay. But you had been a fool.

“Did you,” Denki quietly spoke up, “mean something by it?”

You avoided his gaze. “Would you be upset if I did?”

A slight smile graced his features. “No, of course not. I just want to know if you… ya know, felt the same way?”

Cue the buffering symbol on your forehead. “The same way,” you repeat to yourself, unwittingly aloud.

“Yeah. Do you, like, like me, or something?”

You turned to face him, your scratching hand falling to your lap. “Yeah. Yes, I do like you. In a more than friend way.”

A large, contagious grin split across his face. Your own mouth followed suit, beaming at the boy sitting with you. A giggle echoed through the room, gracing your ears.

“You really do like me? You’re such a nerd!” He fell back on your bed, poking your leg. Then he sat up again. “Why didn’t you tell me? I sat here thinking it was just me.”

“Why didn’t I tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?” you accused, poking his chest in revenge.

You two continued poking each other, accusing the other of being an idiot. Finally, Denki pulled your hands into his lap, and he leaned in towards you.

“Can we… kiss for real, now? Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, but neither of you moved. Then both of you cracked up realizing that neither of you knew what you were doing.

“Okay,” you said, “I am going to hold still, and you…”

“Mm.”

He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes. He softly pressed his slightly puckered lips against yours, and held them there for a few seconds before pulling away a few inches. You leaned forward again to meet his lips, and pressed a series of soft butterfly kisses to his lips. You both pulled away, trying to catch your breaths.

Your eyes opened again, and you could see that his face was bright red.

He wrenched his hands from yours and slapped them over his face. Another giggle left his lips, and you reached out to pull his hands away.

“Ai!”

A little zap shot through your hand when you touched him. He looked at you in worry.

“Oh shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to zap you! Did it hurt? I-”

“Bro, shut up, it was just a little zap. I’m fine. It wasn’t like the damn playground slides that could kill someone.”

He calmed down and rubbed your hands apologetically.

“Wait,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Are you still gonna call me bro? We kinda just kissed.”

“I don’t know. Can we kiss more?”

He crawled closer to you, moving the maths book out of the way. He froze a little, then placed his hand tentatively on your shoulders. You leaned into him and met his lips with yours.

You two spent almost half an hour kissing, soft little pecks, slowly gaining confidence in what you were doing. Slowly getting used to the feeling of the other. Slowly learning what the other liked.

From then on, any time you two were alone or far from the group, soft kisses were exchanged. His arm was looped through yours any time you walked together, and his ears were almost permanently tinted red when you were near.

Posted 2020 December 1

[wtf-yoongi]

Stage lights. ‹‹part III of III››

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | you visit jungkook on tour for the first time

genre/warnings | high levels of fluff + relatively new relationship + warning: features jk being extremely tired in between sets + but it’s ok because you look after him afterwards and now my heart is clenching 

words | about 7k total (part III is 2,565)

✨ read part I here ✨

☁️ read part II here ☁️

note | kinda belongs in the same universe as this one, but can be read separately. i got carried away and wrote this huge thing, so i decided to separate it into three parts *laughs* kinda sad this is over and totally devastated by jk’s last words let me warn ya

When the show’s all over, things feel completely different. The messy room is even messier – but no one really cares at this point, collecting items at a much slower pace. People are talking more loudly now, laughing more freely, knowing that the work is done and that it was yet another successful night. 

You leave your worries in a box in the back of your mind, although you can still hear Jungkook’s words echoing inside your head every now and then. When you look at him now, it’s almost impossible to think that this is the same person that left the stage mid-concert like that – even after having performed the rest of it. He looks a little worn out, yes, but happy and satisfied. Everyone has recovered from the intense final act, changed into more comfortable clothes, put on hats and beanies to cover some of the weirdly sticky hair – and positively look like any other person in the world after a day at work.

With the tension gone from the room, you feel much more comfortable now – not like you belong, but like you fit in enough. The same goes for when you move from the messy room to another one filled with tables, Jungkook taking your hand on your way there and telling you all they serve is Korean food, playfully adding that you could only eat rice if you wanted.

He was joking, of course.

Even if things could get weird – and you predicted them to – they really don’t. Jungkook leads you to a table that sits six and the seat next to you, that you would expect to remain empty, is soon taken by a smiling Hae. Namjoon sits in front of you and all of a sudden the table is full. 

Conversation flows as easily as possible when two languages are being spoken and not all people can fully understand both – and it warms your heart to see everyone at least try for your sake. Jin even stood up at one point to do an impersonation of an annoying American interviewer and you felt the need to apologize for the whole country in between laughs and red cheeks.

When everyone is done eating and drinking, you stand up again, moving back to the messy room for long enough to pick up your personal belongings. Jungkook said you would be taking a van back to the hotel downtown and you nod as you feel him take your hand again to walk through the halls you came in earlier in the day. A few moments before stepping foot outside, though, he lets go abruptly.

You don’t mean to look at him like that, but you do it anyway. From the concerned look on his face, you must appear surprised and hurt in equal parts.

“Sorry, bad habit,” he apologizes, but doesn’t take your hand back. “I can’t really be seen with anyone, so I don’t usually… Even when there’s no one around…”

“Oh…” You nod and your expression changes again. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, there’s really nothing…”

“You’ll have to teach me these things, you now? Let me know when I have to do or stop doing something,” you say, now noticing how close you two are and taking a few steps away from Jungkook. “Do we have to keep a safe distance? I’m not being ironic, really, I’m just asking,” you add as you see his face fall.

He snorts, moving a little bit more awkwardly and brushing a hair strand out of his face. “Kinda, yeah.”

“It’s really ok, I don’t mind taking a few precautions,” you reassure him, turning your body and taking a few steps backwards so he can see you better. You point at the black baseball cap on your head and smile.

He smiles back at your words and doesn’t say anything even after you pile up in the van along with other people, opting for just taking your hand again and squeezing it tightly.

The ride back to the city is silent, conversation between everyone dying down the further away you are from the stadium. It seems, you think, exhaustion finally hits. You feel it too, eyes heavy as the adrenaline and nervousness from it all aren’t running through your veins anymore. You raise your eyes just enough to see Jungkook staring outside with dreamy and tired ones, ready to rest your head on his shoulder and nap until you get to your destination.

When your eyes open again, the van has stopped and Jungkook is slowly running his left hand through your hair to wake you up.

“We’re here,” he says slowly and you straighten your body to see people are lazily leaving the van. He laughs lightly. “Can’t believe you didn’t wake up with the screaming outside. I had to close the curtains.”

You’re in what seems to be the back of the building now and your brain finally tells you there’s noise going on, a not-so-distant high-pitched cheering. It gets very loud, then it calms down again, and you notice another van pulling up next to yours.

“Sorry,” you apologize out of habit and Jungkook shakes his head lightly, nudging you to move towards the door with a small smile on his face.

You fix the crooked cap on top of your head and blink a few times to wake up a little better, finally getting up to leave. Outside, you can only see a reduced number of staff members and you assume this hotel really isn’t for everyone – much less the number of people you saw working earlier in the day.

When outside, you wait for Jungkook and follow him into the backdoor. There’s a tiny elevator only a few steps into the building and people are waiting to go up in groups of three or four. It takes a while, but you eventually find yourself in a long corridor, dragging your feet through the carpeted floor.

“Tired?” Jungkook asks, stopping in front of a door and touching the key card to the lock.

“Don’t think I can say that after today,” you admit with a scoff. “And it’s still early in New York, I shouldn’t be this sleepy.”

“How early?”

“Google says there’s a six-hour difference,” you say, entering the room after Jungkook and immediately moving to relieve your shoulders from the weight of your backpack. “So, yeah, still early.”

When you look around the room, it looks lived in, but not nearly as disorganized as you expected it to be. You know Jungkook has slept here already and it seems like room service wasn’t allowed. The bed is still kind of messy, but in a comfortable and inviting way – the way freshly made hotel beds never are.

Next to his open suitcase, you see yours, though – and that’s how you know at least someone has access to this room with the exception of Jungkook himself. It is pressed to the wall perfectly and you notice there’s a foreign, fancy paper bag sitting on top.

“What is this?” You ask, turning back to Jungkook, who’s placing his jacket inside the closet. “This isn’t mine.”

“It isn’t from me, sorry to disappoint,” he smirks. “Open up, let’s see what’s inside.”

You slowly walk towards your suitcase, taking the bag with one hand to open it up with the other. When you look inside, you see a box of fancy pastries and a note.

“It’s from Hae,” you say and turn the note around to read the small message written in delicate handwriting. You laugh lightly. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”

“What? What does it say?” He asks from inside the bathroom. His voice is now muffled from brushing his teeth and you can’t help but laugh even more.

“Here’s what she wrote. Her words, ok?” You warn before continuing. “I hope it’s ok I’m writing you this. You’re American, you make friends quickly, right? It was great meeting you today and I can see why Jungkook won’t stop talking about you sometimes. He will never admit to doing this, though. Hope you have a great stay with us. XOXO Hae. P.s.: I’ve always wanted to write XOXO to someone. And then she finishes with a smiley face. How cute is that?”

“I love that you find it cute when she throws me under the bus like that,” he says, taking a towel to pat his lips dry. “I’m going to have a serious conversation with her.”

“But there’s food.” You show him the light colored box.

“She’s good, isn’t she? Diplomatic Hae.”

“She is. She brought me coffee before the show,” you say with a smile. “You told her I like macchiatos.”

“She asked me what kind of coffee you liked. I told you, she’s nice,” he shrugs. “You want to take a shower first?”

“Nah, you can go,” you say, putting the fancy bag on top of a side table. “I still have to open my suitcase, get my stuff and all…”

“Ok.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Jungkook reaching for the door in order to close it, but stopping midway for some reason. He widens his eyes a little, taking steps in the direction of his own suitcase.

“I have to grab some things,” he says with a weak laugh, lowering his body to reach for what looks like a pair of shorts and something else you can’t quite figure out. “Not on my own today, can’t walk around naked, can I?”

You take advantage of the fact that he can only see your side profile to simply shrug, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction from his words.

Thank God he can’t properly see your face.

When you open the bathroom door again, you feel relaxed – every muscle in your body a little bit too loose to function correctly. You put your head out to see Jungkook sitting in the middle of the bed, his legs spread out to both sides, with his big iPad in hand – you know he’s exhausted, but you also know him well enough. He will refuse to fall asleep while you’re not there with him.

“Hair dryer?”

“Oh…” He moves slowly, getting up again and reaching for it inside a random drawer. “There you go.”

“I thought you would blow dry yours.”

“I was going to, but too lazy,” he admits with a small smile. “It’s ok, it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll do it for you if you want me to,” you offer. “Come on.”

“You should just do yours, I…”

“Come on…”

You grab Jungkook by the hand, making him sit on the bed again and looking for the nearest power outlet.

“Let me baby you just for a little bit, ok?” You smile fondly at him, leaning in to lightly kiss his lips for the first time in hours. When you do it, you definitely feel like you should kiss more often. Much more often.

“If this is about today, I already told you I…”

“It isn’t about today,” you interrupt delicately, still holding his face close. “I have a feeling nothing I say will make you work in a more… Balanced way. Am I wrong? You don’t even need to say anything, I know I’m not.”

Jungkook laughs and his shoulders tense a little bit. “Yeah, people have mentioned this to me.”

“Well, if I’m not the only one… Maybe you should start considering it?” You half-ask, turning the hair dryer on. “Wow, this is surprisingly quiet. You own a fancy one, huh?”

You move your left hand through his hair calmly and Jungkook closes his eyes, his stance relaxing almost immediately. While you’re there, you also take the opportunity to brush your hand against his ears and neck a few times and you feel like he could fall asleep right there if it wasn’t for the low, but still a little annoying, hair dryer sound.

When you turn it off, you move your fingers to mess with his long bangs. “I noticed earlier your hair looks more healthy and fluffy.”

“The part that was bleached before grew out,” he answers lowly, his eyes still closed. “Do you like it like this?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you?”

“I like that it is easier to make it look decent,” he laughs quietly and finally opens his eyes. “Do you want me to blow-dry your hair?”

“Oh, no, you should go to bed, I’ll just…”

“Come on,” he repeats your words from minutes before. “Let me baby you a little too.”

Jungkook doesn’t stand up to blow-dry your hair, deciding to just stay seated and pull you down close to him. You have your back to him now and he’s careful to not miss any section, moving from side to side thoroughly. Having him play with your hair also relaxes your mind even further and a few more minutes pass before you’re turning back to him. 

“It’s ok,” you take the tool from his hands to turn it off. “You don’t have to blow-dry it 100%, it’s going to take too long.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we’re both tired, let’s just go to sleep.”

You don’t have to say it twice. As you place the hair dryer next to the bed somewhere, not even bothering to stand up again to take it back to it’s original place, Jungkook is already turning around on the bed and pulling you by the hand to lay next to him.

“I already said this, but thanks for coming,” he inhales deeply, snuggling into your side as you’re both trying to make yourselves comfortable. “I know it’s hard, but… If you can, you should come more often.”

“You should go to New York more often too,” you say and your voice becomes quieter when the next words leave your lips. “I miss you all the time.”

Jungkook smiles warmly at you and brings one of your hands closer to him. “I will. It’s my turn now anyway,” he assures you and leaves a kiss on your wrist. “And I miss you all the time, too. Actually, I bet I miss you more.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I do.”

“Oh, so you just got to that conclusion inside your little head?” You chuckle, bringing the hand that is already closer to him to trace his face. Even now, exhausted and ready to pass out, you don’t think Jungkook glows any less.

“Exactly.”

A few moments pass and you feel yourself begin to give in to sleep. The room is completely quiet now with the exception of your light breathing and legs moving to fit in a little better. Jungkook’s body is warm just like the last time you were like this and you wish, from the bottom of your heart, to always sleep by his side for as long as you’re alive.

All of a sudden, you hear his voice again.

“Are you still awake?” He asks, voice not above a whisper. When you open your eyes, Jungkook is staring longingly at you and it takes a second for you to catch your breath.

You nod with the tiniest of smiles, reaching out to touch the arm that is lazily draped across your waist. “Yeah, is there anything wrong?”

“No, not wrong, but… I think I’m in love with you.”

Read more ›› masterlist

[getsojaded]

chemistry || calum hood

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of weed, swear words, mention of injury, food & the slightest bit of sex talk

a/n: hey twt moots ;)) anyways, this is inspired by this post! i hope u all enjoy <3

-

It was about 11 pm, and I had just finished taking an unnecessarily large amount of notes for chemistry class. With a sore, shaky hand and a vision that was starting to go blurry, I had finally finished ten pages. Who knew that there was so much information about 5 organic compounds?

I yawned in my seat, stretching my arms out and removing my glasses. I was more than thankful that I can call it a night, and walked towards my bathroom to get ready for bed, which took a good 30 minutes. It usually doesn’t take me that long, but fuck, I was exhausted this whole day. After all my skincare was completed, I walked back to my bedroom and hopped into my bed, prepared for a well deserved rest. After slouching for a good three and a half hours, comforter and pillows had never felt so good against my body. 

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a loud ding! from my phone and I opened my heavy eyes, which immediately annoyed me. I ignored the first one and tried to go back to sleep, but one ding turned into six and I couldn’t take it anymore. I angrily ripped the covers off my body, sitting up right after reaching for my phone on the nightstand beside my bed.

6 New Text Messages from: calum hood

hey wyd rn

can you do me a favour

i need your help

im at this party right now and i’m about to get high as fuck but i forgot about our homework for tomorrow and i was wondering if you could do them for me

you don’t even need to make them look pretty like how you do it just take down the important shit

please

“What the fuck?” I whsipered to myself as I looked at my phone. “Who does this bitch think he is?”

to: calum hood

are you fucking serious right now

from: calum hood

please i’m really sorry LOL i completely forgot about it

i know your smarty pants finished it the second you got home please

i’ll literally buy you starbucks tomorrow morning

As much as I hated to admit it, his last text message kind of convinced me. I was a sucker for coffee, and could really stop spending money on it every morning. But was I really about to lose some more sleep just to do the party boy’s notes? I barely know this kid anyways. How’d this guy even get into college? 

to: calum hood

is it gonna be a venti

from: calum hood:

if that’s what you want, sure

I knew I was going to regret this decision, but I threw on my glasses and put my hair up once again, walking towards my desk. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I sighed out, opening my laptop and gathering my supplies together. I unlocked my phone, seeing that the time was 12 am. Am I doing this for coffee or am I doing this because he’s attractive and I couldn’t really say no to him? I groaned and leaned my head on my desk, texting him back.

to: calum hood

i hate you so much

get me a venti iced white mocha no whip and an extra espresso shot

actually no make that two extra espresso shots cause bc of your dumbass im staying up 

from: calum hood

i gotchu angel

thank you so much, see you tomorrow :)

“Fuck off with the petname and the smiley face,” I angrily cursed at my phone, picking up my pencil and beginning to write another ten pages of notes. 

“I hate this bitch,” I said, throwing my pencil onto my desk and slamming my laptop shut. The time was now 3:45 am and tired was an understatement for me. I crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediatly, hoping that these 5 hours of sleep will give me enough energy to get through class tomorrow.

-

“You have got to be fucking joking me,” I mumbled, reaching over for my phone to turn off the alarm. I was definitely not a morning person, and the fact that I didn’t get at least 7 hours of sleep meant that I was not going to be in a good mood today.

I slowly crawled out of bed and began trudging towards my bathroom, seeing I had gotten a text meesage from the man himself. I rolled my eyes seeing his name pop up, opening the conversation between him and I.

from: calum hood

goodmorning!

to: calum hood

fuck off

I set my phone aside, getting ready for bed in the slowest way possible. I honestly could care less about what I looked like today, so I decided on a hoodie and sweatpants. I went back into my room and packed my bag with everything I needed, including Calum’s stupid study notes. I threw it over my shoulder, putting on my shoes and walking out the front door, into my car. Thankfully my college was not too far from my apartment, so it didn’t matter if I was running a couple of minutes late.

Parking my car and walking towards class, more and more annoyance filled my body, hoping that nobody would say a word to me, or even better, look in my direction. As I walked into the classroom, I walked towards the empty seats in the very back, choosing the one closest to the wall. I got settled into my seat, leaning the side of my head against the wall, hoping that I’d get the tiniest bit of extra rest.

“The last text message you sent to me wasn’t very nice.” I heard a voice beside me say. I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the stupid Calum Hood. He was holding two cups of coffee - one for me, and one for him I’m assuming - and was wearing a maroon hoodie, which he actually looked really good in.

“I don’t think you deserve to have a nice goodmorning text, because you are the reason I’m in a pissy mood today, thank you very much.” I responded, taking my coffee from his hand and placing it on my desk. I reached into my bag and took the study notes I wrote for him, slapping it onto the desk beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as our professor began to speak up, indicating that class had begun. “What can I do in order for you not to be mad at me?” I turned to look at him. He had the biggest pouty face I had ever seen, which was absolutely adorable. But I’d never tell him that.

“Just shut up.” I sighed, turning back towards the board, opening my notebook and beginning to take notes. 

Not even ten minutes later, a green sticky note caught my eye as I was writing. My eyes gazed towards the sticky note, scoffing at what was written on it.

Pls forgive me :(

I turned towards Calum, who was currently well focused on the board in front of us. I lightly chuckled, knowing he was more than pretending to actually pay attention in this class.

I thought I told you to shut up, I wrote underneath his writing and stuck it back onto his desk, and continued from where I left off. I got maybe 5 words in before I saw the neon green appear back onto my desk. I can’t shut up if I’m not talking.

I rolled my eyes before crumbling the paper in my hand, looking at Calum once again. “You’re distracting me. What do you want?” I asked him, the brunette boy turning his head to me once again. 

“For you not to be mad at me.” He responded. “What can I do for you to at least smile at me? Besides telling me to shut up.” 

I stared at him with the bitchiest face I could put on, then rolled my eyes and began to take down more notes in my book. First, he makes me write ten pages for him and now he’s distracting me in class. Can he leave me alone for at least five minutes? 

“And now you’re not gonna talk to me. Fine, be that way.” He grunted. The two of went back to what to we were doing for the remainder of class.

-

“That’s all for today folks, I hope you have a good rest of your day and don’t forget to read pages thirty to thirty-five and finish questions one to twenty-seven.” Our professor said to all of the class, which resulted in me grabbing my bag and standing up immediately, wanting nothing more than to just get the fuck out of this place.

Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me-

“Hey wait,” Calum said and grabbed my hand. 

Fuck

“Yes?” I asked him, turning my body towards him as he let go of my hand. 

“What’re you doing the rest of the day?” 

“Nothing, why..?”

I saw that Calum had the cheekiest grin on his face after I gave him my answer. “As an apology for making you write down my notes, thank you very much by the way, along with making you angry this whole morning, how about we go get breakfast on me, and we can do our homework together, except I will do all the work, and you just copy my answers? How does that sound?”

I thought about it. One part of me just wanted to flip him off, go back home and get the sleep I missed out on last night. The other part of me was actually kind of down for that idea. Free food, free homework answers and I get to hang out with pretty boy? I wasn’t really losing anything here, huh? 

“I mean, I would say yes, but I took my car here and also I’m dressed terribly right now, the last thing I need is for more people to see me looking like this..” I trailed off, looking down at my current outfit and laughing lightly. “Babe, you don’t even look bad whatsoever right now. However, if you insist, you can go home and change and I can come get you when you’re ready. Is that a plan?” He asked in response. First angel, now babe? What is this guy doing?

“I mean.. I could do that...but-” “Pleeaaasee?” Calum cut me off, pressing his hands together, acting as if he was praying. 

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go with you! I’ll go home and get ready, and I’ll text you when I’m done.” I responded as the both of us walked out of the classroom, towards the parking lot. 

“Pinky promise you won’t cancel on me last minute?” Calum asked, extending his arm and putting his pinky in front of me as we reached my car. I hadn’t even noticed that he walked me to my car, which honestly made my heart flutter when I realized. 

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed lightly, taking my pinky and sticking it out with his, interlocking it. “Pinky promises mean everything, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He responded, winking at me then walking away. Getting into my car, I hit my steering wheel, squealing while I repeatedly hit my head against my wheel. “Fuckin’ angel, babe and sweetheart?! What’s next?” I asked myself, driving back to my place to get ready for this little study.. session? Hang out? Date? 

I never noticed how nervous I was to hang out with Calum until four different outfits were placed on my bed, with no ability to choose which one looked best. “Fuck, these are all terrible.” I groaned, flopping onto my bed and closing my eyes. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, seeing that Calum was calling.

“I know you pinky promised that you wouldn’t cancel on me, but angel what is taking so long?” He asked, laughing into his question. “I’m so sorry,” I groaned, getting back up and looking at the outfits I planned on my bed. “I’m having a little wardrobe crisis. I have zero idea what to wear.”

“You could’ve showed up in the hoodie and sweatpants and I’d still find you gorgeous,” He responded, making my heart flutter for what felt like the hundreth time today. This man throws small compliments left and right and it’s kind of driving me crazy. “But lemme see what you got planned out. I’ll make it easier for you.” I responded with an okay, quickly snapping a photo of the clothes that were currently on my bed. 

“Okay first off, none of these are bad at all. I think you could’ve chose any of these and rocked all of ‘em. Second, little shirt big pants is always the way to go. I say the second one.” He told me, choosing a white long sleeved shirt and the baggiest light wash jeans I had in my closet. It might’ve been basic, but Calum was right - you really can’t go wrong with a little shirt big pants combination. 

“Okay, thank you.” I sighed in relief, taking the clothes into my hands and walking into the washroom to change. “You can come now, I’ll text you my address. I’ll probably be done by the time you get here.” 

“Now was that so hard?” He asked in response, causing the both of us to laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit. Bye bye!” 

“Bye Calum, see you later.” And with that the call ended. I quickly changed into my clothes, put my laptop in my bag - along with everything else I needed - and slipped my shoes on. Once I finished doing so, I heard a loud honk outside, indicating that he was outside. 

Walking out of my house I saw Calum exiting his seat, walking over to the other side and opening the door for me. “Wow, what a gentleman.” I laughed as he closed my door and got into the drivers’ side once again. “You look great.” He told me, his eyes focused on my outfit. “All thanks to you.” I said nervously, as he started the car. “Where are we going again?” I asked him. 

“You can never go wrong with IHOP,”  He said proudly, with a wide grin on his face. “How’d you know I loved going there?” I asked him, gaining a chuckle from him in response. “Not sure if you knew this, but I’m a mindreader.” He joked, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh in response. 

Arriving at the place and ordering our food, Calum and I began to have a little conversation. It started off with an are you still mad at me? which resulted into talks about other classes, finals and parties. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a party?” He asked in shock, me shaking my head as I took a sip of the water that was given to me. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been in college for what, two years, and you’ve never been to one?!”

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I go to school to learn and not to party. I don’t ask people to take ten pages of notes for me so I could blaze up, unlike somebody I know,” I responded, Calum looking at me in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just called me out like that. I said I was sorry!” 

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re making up for it with free food and free homework answers, so I decided to get over it.” I responded, laughing. “Also, when are we gonna start doing the questions?” I asked as the waiter came with both of our plates of food, thanking them as we began to eat. 

“I mean, we could go back to my place and work on it, if that’s alright with you.” Calum said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Is that your way of trying to get in my pants?” I asked jokingly. 

“You’re a fiesty one aren’t you?” He asked, with a simple nod from me in response. “Well to answer your question, no that is not my way of doing such a thing, I’d be much more smooth about it.” 

“Oh, so you think you’re slick or something?” “Nah babe, I know I’m slick.” There’s the cocky party boy that I was much more familiar with. I rolled my eyes in response.

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said.. Anyways, I am fine with working on it at your place.” I told him, getting a nod in response. Throughout the whole breakfast, we got to know each other quite well. I learned that he played soccer in highschool, but due to a torn ACL he had to quit. But because of that, he got into music and started playing the guitar. I told him that if there’s enough free time when we finished, he should play me something. He happily agreed to it, saying that I will fall in love with him after I hear his singing. I just roll my eyes at his cocky compliments about himself. 

I also got to hear his totally wild college parties that he goes to, telling me about this one time one of his friends’ houses got shut down due to the various noise complaints from neighbours down the block. “you should come join me in one”, He offers, with a “fuck no” in response from me. 

“C’mon, they’re not that bad. They’re actually really fun, and everybody’s always so nice.” 

“I literally can’t tell you the last time I got high, and the last time I got drunk it was not pretty, I’m retired from that shit.” I said, as he paid for our food and began walking back to his car.

“Oh, so you used to be rowdy?” He asked, the two of us laughing in unison. “High school me was a different story, we don’t talk about that.” I responded. “The things I would do to see that side of you. You gotta go to at least one before you get outta this place. They take a lot of stress off your shoulders for the night.” He told me as we walked towards the front door to his place, which made me laugh at the fact that he tried to make parties seem like a really good thing. A simple Maybe, was all I responded with as we got settled into his apartment, which was fairly clean to my surprise. 

We were currently sitting across each other at his dining table, the both of us reading over the textbook and him answering the questions after every section. He worked effeciently, which also took me by surprise. I underestimated this guy a lot, didn’t I?

A good two hours later, Calum had finished all the questions for homework and I had finished copying them down, thanking him for doing such a thing.

“It’s no problem. I had no idea that the notes were ten fucking pages long, you deserve a break after that- wait, you wear glasses?” He asked me, analyzing them.

“Yeah, only at home though. I don’t really like how they look on me,” I replied, taking them off and rubbing my eyes. He took them in his hands and put them back on me, smiling. “They look really cute on you, I like them.” He said, causing me to blush. “What’re you so flirty for?” I asked. Keep these compliments up and I might just fall in love with you before you even sing, I thought to myself.

“Well, with somebody as pretty as you, I gotta slip in a flirty remark every chance I get, eh?” He smirked, taking my hand, and taking the both of upstairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my guitars in my room.” He reassured me as we walked inside his room. He took the guitar from the side of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing me to sit down next to him.

“Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Try me, Hood.” 

He chuckled, playing the intro to Sam Smith’s Leave Your Lover. “Holy shit, I love this song,” I whispered, watching his hands strum the guitar.

He began to sing, immediately amazed by his voice. It was so soft and raspy, I literally could listen to it all day. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder. He laughed softly when he noticed, continuing on with the song. 

He finished playing the outro, which caused me to open my eyes and look up at him. “So, how was that?” 

“It was beautiful, your voice is so pretty.” I responded, smiling at him. “You should drop outta this whole college thing and just become famous.”

“Oh man I wish, but I think it’s too late for that.” He told me, now leaning on my shoulder, which made me want to scream and kiss him. “Did you fall in love with me yet?”

I patted his cheek with my hand lightly. “Not yet Cal, not yet. Stil kinda angry about that whole ten pages of notes thing.” 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nah.”

He laughed, then took my hand and intertwined it with his, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “What if I told you I’d be down to do this again, minus the whole ‘let me do this for you today as an apology’ thing?” He questioned, lifting his head from my shoulder and looking at me.

“What do you mean, ‘this again’?”

“I mean picking you up with a coffee before class, bothering you the whole time, getting breakfast with you afterwards, studying together, and then playing a song for you once we get too lazy to finish our assignments.” He replied with a soft smile that made my heart warm and my cheeks red.

“And what if I told you that I’d be down to do those things aswell?” 

“Well then my love, I will pick you up on Wednesday at 8:15 with a venti iced white mocha with only one extra shot of espresso, because I won’t keep you up to write more notes. After class, I’ll take us to any place you wanna go. Denny’s? IHOP? Waffle House? You name it. Then, we can go back to my place, study our asses off and then I can play you as many songs as you’d like. How does that sound?” He offered, the biggest smile appearing on my face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now if we’re going to be doing this... does this mean I can finally take you to a damn party?”

“Fuck off, Hood.”

[maehara-san]

strawberry feelings

Pairing: AU!Katsuki Bakugo x F!Reader

Summary: After looking for months for a job position you finally get an opportunity at a big company. Being the assistant of the angriest person was going to be a lot harder than you thought it would be.

A|N: I can’t believe you guys managed to get my series list to 1k+ notes! That’s insane thank you for sharing my series it means the world <3 <3 We are also close to 700 followers as well! I love you guys thank you so much!!

🄼.🄻🄸🅂🅃

ⓉⒶⒼⓈ  ⬇⬇⬇

Beads of sweat kept running down the sides of your forehead. It was impossible to keep going, you knew your body would end up giving out any second.

“I-I...” you huffed out as your calves were getting ready to give out at any second. “I-I can’t! Tenya!... Y-you’re going too...d-damn fast!”

The blue-haired man turned around and stopped, taking a good look at you he realized you weren’t lying. Iida moved his glasses up the bridge of his nose into a comfortable adjustment. “Alright.” he said, “Let’s stop here and walk back home.”

“T-thank you!” you mumbled and collapsed on to the ground panting heavily. As much as you tried to breathe properly it was impossible getting enough air in.

“I get that I didn’t run for almost three weeks....b-but was it necessary to get up at 6 in the morning?” you questioned looking at him.

“You were the one who said you wanted to get back to running.” he answered, “I won’t be able to do it later since one of my patients is having surgery today...”

“Right...little Yui.” you said “H-How is she doing?” you grabbed your filled water bottle and began to drink sighing as you felt the cold water running down your throat.

“Yui is doing better, we hope this surgery will be the last. After all, she’s barely a kid, and getting these many procedures is too dangerous for her body to handle.”

You smiled softly looking at him “Don’t worry. She’s in good hands, Yui is being treated by the greatest Surgeon in the world!”

He smiled small “Thank you Y/n. Are you ready to head back? We have an hour until we have to go back to work.”

“Yes, I’m ready to go home and get myself cleaned. I need to ASAP since today there’s a lot to do,” you added.

“When aren’t you not busy?” he joked.

“Stuff that happens when you become an assistant I guess.” you shrugged “I’m stopping by after work to bring you dinner though.”

“I can’t wait to look forward to it then.” he chuckled.

After an hour and a half, you’d finally made it to the company on time with fifteen minutes to spare. You checked in at the front desk, quickly making your way over to the cafeteria to pick up Midoriya’s coffee for the morning.

“Busy morning?” Sara asked as she handed you the fresh cup of coffee along with a treat.

“A little you could say that.” you answered chuckling and gave her the money, “I’ll see you at lunch!”

She waved goodbye only shaking her head, smiling at your silliness. You checked the time seeing you had five minutes left. You headed to his office and began sorting everything out for the day. The coffee was neatly placed on his desk, the papers that were scattered across were put back into the same file.

The phone then rang, you quickly went over and picked it up. “Midoriya’s office, [name] [last name] speaking,” you spoke grabbing your notepad and pen ready to write a message down.

“Hello this is Hassaku Daisuke from Iwate school of Engineering.” he said, “Is Mr. Midoriya there by any chance?”

“I apologize but he hasn’t arrived yet. Would you like to leave a message?” you asked.

“Please tell him to call me back as soon as possible. I’d like to speak to him about something important. I’ll leave you my number so he can contact me.” he said.

You then agreed and wrote down the phone number making sure it was correct. Afterward, you bid him goodbye and hung up, you placed the sticky note on your desk where it won’t get lost.

“Hey.” someone spoke, you turned around and saw Bakugo standing there by the door.

Your cheeks turned a light pink “H-hey...Bakugo.” you softly smiled “Midoriya hasn’t arrived yet if you were looking for him.”

“Actually... I came to see you.” he rubbed the back of his neck feeling nervous to look at you. “I wasn’t sure if you had anything to eat yet...” he then moved his arm forward to show you two plastic food trays. “Are...you hungry?”

It was hard to contain the smile that was spreading widely by the second. Trying to keep yourself calmed down you nodded shyly, “I-I am...I was about to get something to eat.”

Bakugo smirked, “It’s a good thing I showed up first then.”

‘The way he dressed today makes it hard to look away, I can’t believe he brought me food.’ you thought ‘Maybe...he’s changing...’

“What?” he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Oh no!” you raised your hands while shaking your head, you chuckled lightly “Sorry...let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

A small smile formed on his lips, his heart was racing and smirk was impossible to hide. You opened your plate to see Tamagoyaki on top of a bed of rice and a side of miso soup with some slices of salmon as well. The steam hit your nostrils making your stomach grumble. you didn’t realize how hungry you were.

“This...looks delicious. Thank you for the food Bakugo.” you said, “They’re all my favorite foods.”

He nodded “You should start eating...or else...you’ll pass out throughout the day.”

Sitting down next to each other you tried your best to calm your beating heart.

"Have you spoken to Mina?" he asked.

"No not after the conversation we had. Denki and her have been busy these days." you answered, "I'm surprised she hasn't messaged me she usually does."

"As long as she hasn't told you anything embarrassing about me then I'm fine with that." he admitted "I can't believe she opened her mouth," he mumbled poking at his rice before grabbing it with his chopsticks.

"I mean...all in all I'm glad she told me what was going on." you confessed "It...well...- gives clarity on how things are now at least." you chuckled rubbing the back of your head. "That's a good thing no?..."

Bakugo nodded biting his inner lip "Yeah...just not the way I wanted you to find out."

"But it worked and I'm thankful she told me that night. It helped make things clearer for me now that I understand."

He placed his chopsticks down on the table and looked at you. "About Abigail..."

"You don't have to explain it to me." you said "I know you both have a past...and I'm not inclined to say anything when I don't know how it happened or how you're feeling. All I ask is...for you to be honest...as long as you're doing that then...that's all that matters."

"Mhmm." he sounded sure yet at the same time he was conflicted about how things will turn out.

You smiled brightly and then dig into every piece of food in front of you. It was truly heaven how all the flavors came together so well. “I know that Kaminari and Todoroki are into business as well...but what about Iida?” Bakugo asked.

“Iida chose a different profession he was set on going into business with Todoroki then he had a troubling moment in his life and decided to pursue into being a doctor,” you answered. “He’s a great surgeon, after studying for 12 years he was able to finally be part of a hospital and is now doing surgery for almost 2 years.”

“That’s...a lot.” he said, “I’m surprised he never gave into to changing is occupation.”

“He did actually, a few times. Some of the professors weren’t all that understanding, they were tough which brought his confidence down. Still, he never gave up even when it was impossible to pass at times.” you smiled small “I admire him...he’s been so strong, sometimes I wished I had his dedication.”

Bakugo placed his chopsticks down and turned to look at you. “I know I was a dickhead...and you wanted to quit. But I think you have a lot more guts coming back here despite all the bullshit I threw at you. You’re definitively strong and not weak for wanting to leave. I was at fault for that. You are doing fine now, even if another problem happens you know not to back down. That’s what you’ve always shown.”

“It wasn’t easy...still isn’t actually.” you admitted “A lot of people still believe that I was the one who screwed up on the project.

“Fuck them.” he abruptly said.

You were taken back by his use of words knowing these were his employees he was talking about. “I-I know they were talking bad but I don’t it’s necessary to talk like that-”

He then cut you off “-it doesn’t matter if they’re my employees or not. They’re talking crap without even knowing shit in the first place. It’s not acceptable, I’m not going to defend them if they’re acting like a bunch of high school punks. This isn’t a playground anymore, if they’re brave enough to talk crap behind your back then they’re too weak to tell you upfront.”

As much as you tried being the good person you knew deep down he was right. People like that shouldn’t be respected, it’s not okay to start rumors where you’re supposed to be professional.

“I hate to say that...it’s the way to go but in the end...” you sighed “You’re right Bakugo. Sometimes it's impossible to change their mind no matter how hard you try.” you played with your fingers looking down at your lap as flashbacks began to come back.

There was a change in the mood, Bakugo noticed it right away. Something was hurting you, yet it wasn’t his place to ask you about the problem not when it was troubling you so much. He moved his chair closer to you and held your hand.

Without any warning or signs, he was holding it protectively. You couldn’t talk, there was something about him that made it impossible to speak. He looked at you in the eyes. With his look he saying so much to you even if it seemed like he wasn’t.

“It’s fine.” he softly spoke.

Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest. You couldn’t look away from his red orbs. “Please don’t let me fall.” you suddenly spoke not realizing what was coming out of your mouth.

“Never.”

Your lips curved into a small smile hearing his reply.

A knock then sounded at the door disrupting the moment between you two. “Ah! Here you are [last name].” Your friend and colleague, Nakano, spoke as she opened the door seeing you and Bakugo together.

“Nakano, hey is there something you need?” you asked.

“Mr. Midoriya is here he’s waiting for you in the conference room,” she said.

You looked at her confused, “In the conference room? Did he say what for?”

“All he mentioned was about it being important. He told me to take care of any calls that came in.” Nakano replied.

“Oh.” you said, “I see, thank you I’ll be right out then.”

She excused herself and closed the door. “You should get going it’s important you don’t want to keep him waiting,” Bakugo spoke.

“Right.” you slightly smiled, “Um...thank you for the breakfast. I’ll make sure to finish it later when I get back. I’m sorry I have to go.”

“It’s fine.” he replied “I need to talk to Kirishima about something. At least you have something in your stomach.”

“I’ll see you later then,” you said grabbing your phone and clipboard along with a few other important things. Bakugo gave you a nod, you turned back around to look at him again before closing the door.

Your heart was still beating when you left the room. You weren’t sure how to comprehend what happened in there. All you were sure about was how your chest tightened when he held your hand in yours.

‘Whatever happens...I don’t want to be afraid of going forward.’  you thought. Upon seeing the room you took a deep breath and calmed yourself down before walking down the stairs.

When you arrived in the lobby you saw someone standing in front of the main deck. “I need to speak to her please, if you tell her who I am I’m sure she’ll know who I am.” they impatiently spoke.

“I understand but she’s in a meeting right now with Mr. Midoriya. I can’t interrupt-”

“Suzuki, it’s okay,” you said walking over to the person who had their back turned towards you. “Is there something you need that’s important?”

The mysterious stranger then turned around, your legs took a step back not believing who it was. “W-what...are you doing here?” you questioned trying to keep your voice down.

“I need to talk to you.” they went to touch but you moved your back not wanting to be anywhere close to them. “Don’t...touch me...”

They sighed “You must come with me.”

“Why would I want to go anywhere with you, Reo?-”

“It’s your dad.” he answered, “He’s at the hospital.”

Your eyes blinked not comprehending what he had said “What?... Why did they call you to come? You have no business with them.”

“I was at work when your mother called me telling me about your dad. She didn’t have anyone else to call. She insisted that I’d come for you so you could go see him.” he explained.

“It doesn’t matter...there’s no reason for me to be near them...please leave,” you said swallowing the cries that wanted to erupt. “I don’t want to have to call security.”

“I understand that you don’t want to see me but they’re your parents first.” he said “The least you could do is push away that anger and go see them. I’m not sure how injured he is.” Reo then took out a card and wrote down the address of the hospital he was at. “If you change your mind this is where he is.”

The numbers were immediately recognizable to you “He’s in the hospital where Tenya is working at?”

He nodded “Tenya offered to look after him, I don’t know much about your dad’s details. I was at fault for all that happened don’t hold the grudge against them. You know how long it has been...don’t let more years pass by.”

Reo then left, Bakugo walked down the same stairs after seeing the mysterious man leave. “Is everything alright?” he spoke.

Your phone then vibrated, Tenya had sent you a message telling you about your dad’s condition. “Yeah...everything is fine,” you answered. “I should get going, Midoriya is probably waiting for me.”

“You don’t need to lie,” he said.

“I’ll talk to you later Bakugo.” you excused yourself and went to the conference room. He followed you and managed to stop you before entering the room. You were going to ask him to let you go but he spoke.

“I’ll tell Midoriya what happened. You should go to the hospital you have a job to be next to your father,” he said.

“And I have a job to do here as well, I can’t drop everything and go see them,” you added. “I’ll go once I’m done-”

“You can come back and do the work he told you to do. Right now something else is more important than attending a stupid meeting.”

‘He was right...why was he right?!’ you thought, struggling to find an answer to this whole mess. Sometimes you preferred to not have had parents, now when everything was set and done it’s like fate wanted to mess with you.

You relaxed your arm, “Fine...” you softly spoke, Bakugo then let go of your arm “I’ll go...I will be back in time before we all get together in the afternoon.”

“I’ll tell Midoriya and let him know you needed to get something done,” he said looking at you. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” your eyes looked at the door and then left leaving Bakugo alone.

He opened the brown double door, inside he saw all sorts of people standing around. Some he knew while others were only strangers he didn’t care about. “Midoriya,” he called out.

The green-haired man then turned around to see his colleague standing there. “What is it Bakugo?” Midoriya asked.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

➞➞ tags closed ➞➞ 

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[cutelittlestar]

Maniac: Chapter 1 || Peter Parker x Detective!Reader

Summary: Detective Y/L/N is a notorious menace among the criminals but a hero to New York City. When a serial killer surfaces in New York and leaves a trail of dead bodies, it is up to Y/N and Spider-man to partner up and catch the killer before more lives are at risk. 

Note: In this series, Peter and the reader are in their early twenties, like 23 or 24, something like that. Also, this reading will serve as an introduction to the series, so it’s a bit long (sorry!). Let me know what y’all think, and I hope you enjoy :) 💕 

Warning(s): topics of death and murder, violence, blood, angst, cursing. MATURE CONTENT, 18+ 

Word Count: 7.6k

The light illuminated from your desk lamp was the only source that provided warmth as you sat in the empty precinct; the enormous pile of paperwork sitting on top of your desk heavily criticized you as you sat back and drank your cold coffee. You grabbed your hair in frustration as the task of completing the paperwork was by far the worst part of being a detective, but you knew you had the capability of managing it. If it meant that the people you arrested were going to live a life in prison, then you made the paperwork your top priority to complete, even if it meant you had to spend a night at the precinct. Of course, while you had no right to complain about the workload a detective was expected to do, you do have the right to critique your fellow officers, as their lack of effort became your burden. 

However, a smile formed on your lips as you recalled your first day of work, which was two years ago, but it felt as if it was a day ago. The work ethic of your comrades was unbelievably horrible; no wonder the crime rate in your district was so high, the detectives lacked the efficiency to fulfill their duties. Yet, everything changed once you arrived. You brought something that no one else could bring: hope. With your dedication, rigorous work ethic, and courage, you turned the place around, and people praised you for it. You were a hero in your district, and people began to emulate you. If there was a case that no one dared to do, you were the first detective to take it. If danger was around the corner, you ran towards it. Your honorable work was noticed not only in your district, but throughout New York as well. However, as you gained the attention of the public and began to be on front headlines, you also caught the attention of criminals, who all wanted to end your crusade against crime. Yet, that didn’t frighten you one bit. 

You sipped your black coffee once more before picking up the first folder and instantly began to work. Once these papers are done, I can head home and rest until my next shift, you thought to yourself as you wrote down crucial information on various papers. 

As hours passed by, you were nearly complete with your paperwork before you heard the sounds of heavy footsteps approach you; you picked up your head, giving a smile to your partner, Michael as he stumbled towards you. Michael Romero was your partner since the moment you became a detective, and while his charm and flirtatious attitude was a bit obnoxious, he had a good heart. 

“Romero, you’re up earlier than usual,” you stated in shock, smirking as he let out a big yawn, scratching his neck. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled, but he returned the grin, pulling a chair beside your desk and sitting down. You continued to work, your eyes focusing on the paperwork as you felt his eyes gaze on you. It was a common thing he did; yet, no matter how many times you told him to stop, he didn’t, so you learned to live with it. 

“I woke up just for you, darling,” he jokingly said back, propping his left elbow on the desk and picking up a pen and a folder from the pile. You merely shook your head in disapproval, ignoring his flirtatious tone as you continued to write on the paper. “When will you stop calling me darling?” you questioned, taking your eyes off your paper and looking at him straight in the eyes. The pen rested on his bottom lip as his eyes hovered over the piece of paper, and you softly kicked him on the leg, knowing he was intentionally ignoring you. He chuckled, settling down the folder and pen on the desk before staring at you. 

A grin settled among his face, his eyes shining due to the lamp desk, “when you agree to go on a date with me.” You let out a light laugh as Michael continued stretching out his joke, but it began to dawn on you that he wasn’t joking around once you saw his lips form a firm line and his leg began to shake from anticipation as he awaited your response. You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, not prepared to start this conversation again with him. 

“Mike...” you started off, calling him by his nickname, as an attempt to tell him your tone was serious. You didn’t know how to let him down softly, you had a strict rule: to not date anyone from work; while he was charming and sweet, you didn’t want your love life to impede how you did your job. 

Michael shook his head, cutting you off before you had the chance to let him down once again, “C’mon, Y/N, you can’t deny the chemistry we have; I know you have a rule about not dating your coworkers, but you and I are different,” he reached down to grab your hand, and he continued to speak as you didn’t interrupt him. “Let me take you on one date, and I swear on my life, that if you don’t fall in love with me after the date, then I’ll never bother you again.” The way his eyes pleaded reminded you of when a child begs their mother to let them eat a cookie before dessert, and while it was tempting to say no, you also questioned if saying yes was the right choice. As part of you screamed ‘no’, the other side imagined you being romantically involved with Michael; he was endearing, he made you laugh, he made attempts to cheer you up when you faced a setback, and your other coworkers joked about you and Michael acting like an old married couple. 

Maybe agreeing to one date wouldn’t hurt, you thought to yourself. As you opened your mouth to speak, you were interrupted by the sound of your ringtone echoing in your jacket. You pulled your hand away, which was being gently held by Michael, as you solemnly smiled at him and excused yourself, fishing out your phone before picking up. 

“Detective Y/L/N speaking,” you spoke, further distancing yourself from Michael as you leaned back on your chair. 

“Y/N?” the frail voice said, to which you instantly recognized. The irregular breathing of the voice alerted you, and your ears picked up on the distress that was embedded in her tone. You stood up straighter, indicating to Michael that this call was important. 

“Glimmer, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” you worriedly asked her, standing up as you didn’t hesitate to find her if you needed to. You gave Glimmer, the sex worker, your phone a year ago when you were called to investigate the murder of another girl, Amanda Carson, who was brutally murdered in the back of an abandoned building. 

You were absolutely destroyed once you found out about her murder. You arrested Amanda for public intoxication while patrolling your designated neighborhood, but once she unveiled her tragic story to you while intoxicated, you began to realize that she wasn’t a threat to society; rather, she was a survivor who just struggled to find herself. Since then, you always took care of her whenever you spotted her walking down the street, either by giving her warm food or drinks when it was cold or offering to let her crash at your place. Hot chocolate was her favorite. Glimmer was Amanda’s sister, and they were both kicked out of their house at the age of sixteen; since then, they’ve wandered the streets of New York looking to gain money in exchange for sex. They both were too stubborn, declining to stay at your place while you worked, and no matter how many times you insisted it was alright, they brushed you off, going back to their usual schedule: standing in their infamous corner late at night. 

You were met with silence for a moment before Glimmer spoke again, “I-I’m fine, I’m just stuck in a sticky situation. Do you think you can come?” She hesitantly asked, to which you easily agreed, grabbing a piece of paper and jotting down the address Glimmer gave. Michael stood up as well, running to the locker room to grab his jacket once you signaled to him you were both needed. “I’ll be there soon, Glimmer,” you confirmed to her, grabbing your jacket and heading out the door with Michael behind you. 

“Please come soon,” Glimmer said before hanging up.              

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You immediately got out of the vehicle, walking towards the cop car parked towards the end of the street; the red and blue lights flickered, indicating to the other neighbors that something horribly occurred near their homes. You flashed the two police officers your badge before speedily walking towards Glimmer, who sat on the curb of the street, her hands cuffed behind her back. Her face was tainted with red, blue, and purple marks, there was a long gash on her forehead, and she had a few cuts and bruises on her knees. You kneeled down, softly placing your hand on Glimmers’ shoulder; she flinched at your touch, but once she noticed it was you who was consoling her, she relaxed. You briefly stood up, taking off your jacket and covering Glimmer’s body as her short dress failed to provide her warmth during the cold night.  

“What happened?” You softly asked, ignoring the police officers’ glares from the corner of your eye. She sniffled the snot that was running down her nose, and there were tears in her eyes; they fell down her cheeks, but you quickly wiped them away. 

“I was walking down the street before a man jumped me and started to attack me; the neighbors called, and next thing I know I’m being handcuffed by those assholes,” she stated, turning her head to glare at the officers who mishandled the situation. 

Anger immediately settled within you, and you stood up, walking towards the two police officers and Michael. From the looks of Michael’s face, he was infuriated was well. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” you loudly exasperated, disregarding the confusion written on their faces as you interrupted the conversation between the officers and Michael. “A woman gets attacked by a man and you decide to handcuff her?! Who the fuck is your superior officer? I’ll gladly let them know how you poorly mishandled the situation,” you spat, feeling your blood boil. This was the exact reason why victims do not confide in the police department; they completely dehumanize people and misuse their power that only leads to further conflict. 

One of the police officers, a man whose badge read ‘MaCay’, turned away from Michael and stared you down, utterly raged that you dared critiqued how he “resolved” the situation. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but we went with what was given to us. Look at how she’s dressed, you can clearly tell she’s a prostitute. So, I arrested her.” The other officer, a male as well, nodded his head, agreeing with what his partner said. You looked at Michael, completely shocked with what he said; MaCay deliberately profiled Glimmer due to her appearance, never taking into consideration the circumstances; it took all of your might to not punch him square in the face. 

Your stance remained stoic; instead, you stepped closer to MaCay, sending a deathly glare that had the potential to cut the thick tension. You felt your eyes twitch in frustration; holy shit, who the hell gave this man the chance to become a police officer?!

“So,” Michael stated, coming in between MaCay and you in order to ease the tension, “you mean to tell Detective Y/L/N and I that you arrested a woman because she ‘looks’ like a hooker instead of the man who attacked her? Where the hell is the perpetrator?” Michael harshly asked as his eyes flashed in rage. Both of the officers remained silent until one of them spoke, “he’s in the back of our car as we speak.”

While these officers were complete idiots, at least they didn’t let the man escape. You felt your anger simmer down, but there was still a strong resentment towards the men standing in front of you. 

“Thank Thor that you have him because if you didn’t, this would’ve completely ended your careers,” you spat out, rubbing your forehead as you were unable to comprehend how the lack intelligence. “So, officers,” you said in a condescending voice, ”I suggest you take off those handcuffs before you have to worry about a lawsuit,” you declared, crossing your arms across your chest. The two officers didn’t say a word, looking at one another, not knowing what to do or say. 

After a short while, the officer, Salgado, took out the keys to the handcuffs, walking towards Glimmer; he knelt down and took off the handcuffs. Glimmer let out a breath of relief, rubbing her swollen, red wrists. You didn’t bother to thank the officers; instead, you walked towards Glimmer, a modest smile on your face as you watched her face contort to reassurance. You heard Michael continue to yell at the officers, but you drowned them out, focusing on the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry you went through this Glimmer, I’ll make sure these officers get some sort of punishment for the way they treated you,” you stated, reaching your hand out to rub her shoulders. Glimmer sorrowfully smiled in appreciation, thanking you for your admirable actions. You could tell Glimmer felt uneasy, but she hid her fear, straightening her back in attempts to look composed after what just occurred. 

“How about I drive you back to my place? I’ll feel a hell of a lot better if you stayed at my apartment,” you offered, giving Glimmer the opportunity to have shelter instead of living in her small car. You watched Glimmer’s face contort in hesitation; she was like a feral cat, she learned to survive in the streets, and she didn’t need any help from anyone else. 

“I’ll pass on that offer, detective, but thank you,” Glimmer stated, declining your offer. You sighed, knowing her response before she even told you. You tried so many times to take care of her, but she always rejected your offer. She was used to this life, and it was a difficult process to try and make her see that she could escape it. You watched as Glimmer bit her lip, as if she was having a battle within herself if she should reveal what was on her mind. You furrowed your eyebrows, noticing her shift in behavior, “something wrong, Glimmer?” 

Glimmer’s eyes flickered from you to the two police officers. Her facial expression flashed between worry to hesitation, but they were quickly disregarded as Glimmer shined a toothy grin, “No, detective, I’m fine.” However, you didn’t buy it. You grabbed her by the shoulder, directing her away from the police officers to ensure she could speak without fearing the others would hear the conversation. 

“You can tell me, Glimmer.” You stated, pleading for her to open up. Yet, Glimmer shook her head.

“I said I’m fine,” she bit back, deciding to not confide in you. You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding to drop your interrogation. You didn’t want to scare her off, so you bit back your tongue and nodded, taking Glimmer’s words. 

“Alright...I’ll be going then,” you softly smiled at her, attempting to hide your melancholic expression, “take care of yourself, Glimmer,” you whispered, rubbing her shoulder. She nodded her head, listening to your words before taking off your jacket that was loosely hanging on her shoulders; however, you shook your head, declining her attempt to give it back. 

“Keep it,” you responded before walking away, indicating to Michael that your task was over. You breezed passed the officers, barely acknowledging their presence as you walked towards the car. You sat in the passenger seat, watching the police officers get in their car and drive away as Michael turned on the car; Glimmer stood on the sidewalk, her eyes staring straight into yours as she tightly held onto your jacket, clutching it for dear life. She sadly smiled as she watched your car drive down the street, disappearing into the night. 

That night, you didn’t get much sleep as your mind wondered what Glimmer was going to say. 

What made her change her mind?

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The sound of your ringtone disrupted your morning thoughts, and you reached towards your nightstand to pick up your phone, Michael’s name appearing as the caller ID; confused as to why he was calling you so early in the morning, you hesitantly answered. 

“Michael? Why are you calling me so early?” you questioned, sitting up and rubbing your face in attempts to get rid of the groggy feeling. 

“Y/N...,” Michael softly spoke, the demeanor in his voice causing your heart to beat faster. Horrible scenarios ran through your mind, yet you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. The world seemed to remain still as Michael’s words finally registered in your mind. Your body stiffened and your mouth went dry. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, unable to process the information given to you.  

“I’ll be there soon,” you stated in a monotone voice, pulling the phone away from your ear as you ended the call, not wanting to hear anything else come out of his mouth. From that moment, everything went blurry. You don’t remember getting dressed, getting into your car, and driving to the crime scene. You faintly remembered exiting the car and Michael approaching you; his mouth opened yet no words came out. All you remember was your heavy breathing as you walked towards the yellow tape, pulling it over your head as you approached the white cloth that covered the body from the public.

“Detective Y/L/N,” a voice said, completely shaking you back into reality. You looked to the right, noticing how your commanding officer worriedly eyed you. Your glossy eyes indicated to her that you were still unable to comprehend the horrific events, but she knew your expertise was needed. You wiped your eyes, rubbing your face as you tried to hide your emotions, but to no avail, your commanding officer read you like a book. She walked towards you until she stood next to you, placing a warm yet firm grip on your shoulder. “You can take a day off, if you’d like to,” she declared, knowing this case, in particular, was going to be a sensitive topic to handle. 

Though, you shook your head, “no, I need to be here.” Your commanding officer gave you one deep look, her eyebrows furrowing as she noticed your stoic posture. However, she knew deep down that you were breaking. She sighed, knowing your determination was too strong to deter you away from crime. Nevertheless, what you were about to see was going to be difficult to stomach. “What you’re about to see... you need to be prepared,” she slowly declared. You nodded your head, listening to her words. “Take all the time you need,” she said before walking away from you, leaving yourself alone for a moment before you regained your posture. You took a deep breath before walking towards the scene, putting on gloves as you intended on inspecting every inch of the crime scene. 

A forensic woman crouched near the body, scattering crime scene markings and jotting down notes on the paper attached to the clipboard; she turned to face you, noticing how you hovered over the body yet did nothing to step closer. Your hands shook by your side, but you clenched your fists, indicating to the woman with your head movements to unveil the body. She obeyed your order, grabbing both ends of the cloth and revealing the corpse. You felt your breath hitch in your throat and tears threatened to spill, but you refrained them from breaking down. 

You cleared your throat as you observed Glimmer’s corpse lay in front of you, her soulless eyes staring into yours. You crouched down to further inspect the trauma her body endured shortly after her death. You felt sick to your stomach as you continued to stare at the body; it felt wrong, Glimmer was supposed to be a survivor, not a victim. 

“Tell me what you know,” you spoke out loud, looking away from Glimmer’s body to the woman. The woman nodded her head, grabbing the cloth to further expose the injuries Glimmer had.

“Time of death was around four in the morning, given by how fresh the blood is. Same memo as the death of Amanda Carson: multiple stab wounds in the legs, thighs, arms, and chest,” the woman declared, pointing to the various wounds littered across her body. You nodded your head, attempting to ignore the gut-wrenching pain you felt course throughout your body. You were just with her two hours ago. How could you have let this happened? “The victim attempted to block the stab wounds, which is why her arms are positioned in a defensive matter. She put one hell of a fight,” the lady stated, attempting to lighten the mood and suggest that even though the victim died, she fought as best as she could. 

The woman stopped speaking, directing her focus on you instead of the body that lay in front of her. Judging by the way she hesitated, you knew there was something else that was crucial to Glimmer’s death. 

“While the victim-,” you cut her off, starting to feel your blood boil as she kept directing Glimmer as just the victim. “Her name was Glimmer,” you harshly snapped, your eyes sending deathly glares. The woman closed her mouth, nodding her head as she understood her mistake. “Yes-my mistake-Glimmer suffered exact injuries as Amanda Carson, but I don’t think the stab wounds killed her.” You furrowed your eyebrows, attentively listening to the examiner’s words; “my interpretation is the blow to the side of her head was what ultimately killed her,” the woman remarked, slightly moving Glimmer’s head to the side to expose the deep head injury that nestled itself behind her ear. The gash seemed to have been made by a weapon, possibly a hammer or a crowbar, but you would have to wait until forensic came back with the results.   

The sight of Glimmer’s body became too unbearable to observe, so you stood up, ignoring the dizziness. “Check her fingerprints and mouth to see if she was able to get any of the perpetrator’s DNA,” you ordered, to which the woman agreed, requesting one of her men to bring her cotton swabs. You stepped back, observing the workers inspect every inch of the crime scene, leaving you to your thoughts. 

You should’ve pushed harder, you said to yourself. Maybe if she came home with you that night, she still would’ve been alive. The immense guilt began to eat you up, and you allowed it to consume you. It was your fault that she died, and there was no one who could change your mind. You promised Amanda before she died that you would protect her little sister, and you failed. 

“Detective Y/L/N,” the woman yelled, grabbing your attention, causing you to walk towards her. She was kneeling beside Glimmer’s body but stood up as you came closer; her face became as pale as a ghost as she held onto a piece of paper in her palm. You felt your heart beat faster as you waited for the woman to speak up.  

“What is it?” you asked, feeling your body shake in anticipation. 

She looked at you with worry, panic written across her face. She didn’t say a word, handing you the bloody paper, allowing you to read it for yourself. The blood hadn’t completely dried off, causing you to carefully rub off the excess liquid onto your glove; the cursive word brought shivers down your spine as you fully became aware of the killer’s intentions.  

This killing won’t be my last. I intend on making them vast as you keep living in the past. I suggest you move on, Detective Y/L/N. 

You felt your heart boil in vexation; the killer’s note was planted on Glimmer’s body, mean for you to find. Thoughts began to swirl in your mind, thinking of possible scenarios as to why this note was directed to you specifically; you made many enemies once you became a detective, so the number of suspects was far too large to narrow down. You tightly grasped the note, thanking the woman before walking to your boss, informing her of what you discovered. 

“Captain,” you called out, getting her attention, causing her to turn around to face you. She quickly excused herself from the other officers at the scene, walking towards you as she noticed your shaken state. “What’s wrong?” she asked, stopping in front of you. Knowing you would fumble your words, you showed her the note left for you, watching her eyes widen as her eyes trailed over the words. 

“The person who killed Glimmer also killed Amanda. I know two is just a coincidence, but this note proves that we have a potential serial killer on the radar. We have to-,” you were cut off as your boss raised her hand, signaling you to stop talking. She heavily sighed, grabbing a pair of gloves, putting them on, and taking the note away from your possession. You irritatedly waited as she called one of the officers, who put the note in an evidence bag before walking away. She grabbed your upper arm, pulling you away from the other officers, but you shrugged off her grip, maintaining your stance. Her lips formed a tight line as she, as well, began to become frustrated. 

“Listen, Detective Y/L/N, you can’t just freely use ‘serial killer’ in a sentence. You have to be careful with your word choice because if the public ever hears what you said, our asses will be on the line,” you narrowed your eyes as you listened to your commanding officer who told you to be quiet. Your fists were clenched as you were unable to believe what she was telling you. 

“With all due respect, Captain Parish, Glimmer’s death fits the same memo as Amanda’s murder; I can’t just ignore it, we have to publicly notify the people,” you responded back, further substantiating the argument that a public statement needed to be made. 

“Except for the fact that Glimmer died due to a head trauma; Amanda died of blood loss. Detective, I’m telling you, as your superior officer, to back down and let another detective take the case. You just notified me that you’re too close to the case,” she barked back, her voice louder than before. Silence filled the atmosphere as officers stopped moving, becoming aware of the small bicker between the Captain and her fellow officer. Parish cleared her throat, rubbing her eyes; she, too, didn’t get much sleep the other night. 

“We don’t have enough evidence to make a statement; instead of protecting the citizens, we’ll cause more people to become afraid,” Captain Parish told you, her voice barely above a whisper. While you wanted nothing more than to find the killer, you knew what she was saying was right. Sending an alert out this early will possibly create more panic or make it more difficult to catch the murderer. You lowered your head, rubbing the side of your face as you realized your reaction was inappropriate. 

“You’re right, Captain,” you stated, apologizing for your misbehavior, “I’m sorry, I just want to find the son of a bitch who killed Glimmer.” Captain Parish’s facial expression flashed to extreme pity as she realized your condition. There were bags under your eyes, your body posture was losing its stance, and your eyes were bloodshot red. However, she understood your desire to find the murderer; she wanted to find them as well before it was too late. “No need to apologize, detective, but I’m ordering you to take an absence for the rest of the day. Get some sleep,” she commanded, her tone indicating that there was no room for debate. It would be best to just obey her orders. She walked away, preventing you the opportunity to speak anymore. 

Although you wanted to fight back, you agreed with her. You haven’t had a good rest for the past couple of days, and you needed to regain your sanity before you attempted to arrest the murderer. You looked back at the crime scene once more before taking off the gloves and walking towards the yellow tape, ignoring the screams and questions emitting from news reporters who swarmed around you once you walked towards your car. You sat in your car for a few moments, continuing to ignore the yells before turning on the ignition and driving away, heading towards your apartment. 

Once you were safely parked on the street across your apartment, your hands shakily held onto the steering wheel, unable to process what you witnessed. Suddenly, it finally weighed on you that Glimmer Carson was dead, and the person who murdered her left something for you. Did the killer know of the relationship you had with Glimmer? With Amanda? Were they following you? Why did they say you were living in the past? Why did they tell you to move on? What did it signify? Who did they plan on killing next? And, was there any way you could prevent another murder? 

Paranoia filled your mind, and you felt your heart beat faster as you stared at your apartment. Was it even safe to stay at your apartment? The gun strapped to your waist didn’t even assure you that you were from harm’s away. But, where else would you go if you decided to leave? You contemplated the idea of staying at Michael’s apartment, since he offered on various occasions, but you didn’t want to put his life at risk as well. Your lives were already dangerous enough, and you didn’t want to put your burden onto him, he was already stressed enough. Your ringtone brought you back to reality, and Michael’s name appeared on the caller ID, but you hesitated on responding back. You let the ringing continue until your voice mail answered the call, and you knew after the third call, he would stop calling since it was your usual way of notifying him that you wanted to be left alone. 

You reassured yourself that you would text him later, telling him you were sleeping, but as of right now, you needed some time to clear your mind. Yet, sleeping in your apartment made your stomach twist and turn once you began to settle on the idea that the murderer knew of your every move. Suddenly, an idea popped in your head, and you took out your phone, opening up your contacts, scrolling until you found the name you were looking for. As the name appeared on the screen, your finger looming over the dial button, you refrained yourself from pressing it. It’s been about two or three years since you’ve seen him, and you didn’t even know if he was going to pick up. It was still early in the morning, he was probably going to work soon, and you didn’t want to burden him with your issues; but, he was your last option, and you knew that he would be able to protect you if there was any danger. 

You pressed the dial button, holding the phone over your ear, hoping that he would respond. After the second ring, you heard scuffling noises come from the other side of the call. Your hands turned sweaty as you didn’t know what to say. 

“Y/N?” he stated, confusion seeping out of his voice once he realized that it was you who was calling him. After so many failed attempts of him trying to call you, he was taken aback yet relieved once he saw your name pop up on his phone; he didn’t miss a beat and instantly picked up the phone, content that he would finally get to hear your voice. The soft sound of his voice brought a tiny sense of hope, and you began to recall memories you shared with him. You pulled back the hair that fell in front of your face, leaning your head against the window. 

“Hey, Pete. It’s been a while.”  

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Your hands felt clammy once again as you stood in front of Peter’s door, waiting for him to let you into his apartment. You briefly explained your situation to him, and he instantly understood your concerns and paranoia, telling you to come over. Now, as you stand here waiting, all of your emotions that you swept under the rug were now slowly crawling back into your life. The last time you spoke to him was when you were a senior in college, and you never had the heart to tell him why you disappeared from his life. Peter was your best friend since high school, and when you left, it utterly destroyed him; he thought he did something wrong, and you offered no explanation. Yet, he knew you were a detective, as he took the time to read every newspaper that spoke of you, and while he was extremely proud, he couldn’t help but wish he was beside you. 

While you were anxiously waiting for Peter to let you in, on the other side of the door, Peter was pacing back and forth in his room, thinking of various things to say once he saw you. His hands were clammy as well, and he was frightened of seeing you. After everything you guys went through, your friendship was suddenly broken as soon as you graduated college and became a detective. However, he pushed the heartache he endured for years to the side once he realized that he was finally going to be able to see you again. While the circumstances were unfortunate, he hoped he had a chance to rekindle your friendship. 

Peter slowly walked towards the door, taking a deep breath before turning the doorknob. Your eyes quickly shot up as you watched the door open, and you deeply inhaled as you were now face to face with Peter Parker. His hair was gelled back, as always, and he was wearing an unbuttoned flannel over a graphic t-shirt, which told a chemistry pun. You bit back a laugh as you realized that Peter did not change at all; he still looked like himself, a bit bulkier, but nonetheless, still the same. However, part of you worried that Peter looked at you differently. 

“Hi, Pete,” you softly said, giving him a smile as you still stood in front of his doorway. Peter’s heartbeat fastened as you still called him by his nickname, and he was suddenly an 18-year-old boy again. He had the desire to wrap his arms around you, but he knew that it was too soon. Even the mere presence of you brought back the heartache he felt years ago. Yet, Peter returned the smile, his teeth brightly beaming as he moved his body to the side, ”Hey Y/N, come on in.” You cautiously walked in, your eyes scanning over the apartment. The living room was a bit messy, but you weren’t surprised at all, giving by what his responsibilities were. You awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, not wanting to sit down on his furniture until he offered. Peter closed the door behind him, and he wiped his palms on his jeans, walking over to stand beside you. You turned to the side, giving him another simper. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Peter asked, breaking the heavy and awkward climate. You nodded your head, “water, please.” He bent his head before disappearing into the kitchen as you slowly walked around the room, taking in every inch of the room before he came back. Your hand delicately traced the dresser placed against the wall, looking at the photo frame. Your smile turned into a frown as you gently picked up the frame, feeling your heart drop as you saw a picture of Peter and his uncle sitting on the couch; it was taken days before Uncle Ben was murdered, and a lump formed in your throat as you clearly remembered the day you found out. It felt so odd knowing that Uncle Ben’s death occurred eight years ago; you extremely miss him, and he was one of the reasons you became a detective.

The sound of Peter’s footsteps alerted you, and you gingerly placed the frame back into its original place, wiping away the dust that was slowly forming around the photo; you turned around, walking towards Peter as he held a glass of water. You thanked him and unintentionally chugged down the water, the lack of sleep and food made you deeply crave water. Peter headed towards the couch and sat down, to which you followed his movements. There was another long moment of silence as both of you were unaware of how to start a conversation. Your friendship with Peter was so strong, but now, you were a complete stranger to him. “How’s May?” you asked, breaking the silence and tracing a light pattern on the glass as a way to ease your mind. Peter’s face was filled with delight as he thought of his aunt. “She’s good, got a promotion couple of weeks ago.” Your eyes shined with joy. May deserved the promotion; you’ve seen her diligently work for years, and you were glad her job was finally recognizing her hard work. 

“That’s really great, Pete. How are you doing? Is Jameson still a shitty boss?” you asked, a grin forming as you recalled the horrible yet funny experiences Peter had with J Jonah Jameson. Peter let out a chuckle, sinking further into the couch as he started to get comfortable. He scratched the back of his head, “Yea, same shitty ass personality, but as long as I give him photos of Spider-Man, he’s less of a douchebag.” A chuckle left your lips as you laughed at Jameson’s idiocy, which made him completely oblivious to the fact that Peter was Spider-Man. 

You’re still surprised that Peter is able to keep the secret from others; however, you were always observant, so you weren’t shocked once Peter told you while you were in his bedroom late one night as you were studying for a chemistry exam. Your ability to notice things others couldn’t made you a great detective. Peter noticed how your stoic demeanor shifted into a tranquil one, and he was content with himself that he was able to quickly change your mood. “How about you, Y/N? I see your face from time to time on the newspapers as you constantly fight criminals,” Peter conveyed, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, to which you shook your head in disapproval, but he could see how hard you were trying to hide your grin. 

“How I’m doing?” you repeated out loud, pondering as you tried to answer the question. It was a simple question, yet you didn’t know how to answer him. “I’m doing what I’ve always dreamt of,” you truthfully stated, looking at Peter’s eyes as he smiled to your response. He knew how much being a detective meant to you, and he was so proud of you; however, he detected the way your voice cracked as you finished your sentence. Your fingers traced small shapes on the glass, “but there are moments where I wonder if I made the right decision,” you softly whispered, trying to maintain a steady voice. You felt your eyes burn as you thought of Glimmer, but you wiped your eyes, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed that Peter was watching you. A frown formed on Peter’s lips as he observed how you were on the edge of shattering, but he remained silent. 

You let out a small laugh in attempts to lighten the mood, but your eyes were bloodshot red, a sorrowful and dejected look on your face. “I couldn’t protect her, and it’s all my fault,” you revealed, a hint of disgust and disappointment directed towards yourself. Your job was to serve and protect New York, but you couldn’t even save a life. Peter stretched his hand out, placing it directly on top of your hands, causing your fingers to freeze as your cold hands touched his warm ones. His lips were pressed, forming a straight line, not knowing how to console you, but his eyes glistened, telling you that he understood the pain you felt. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, his thumb slowly rubbing your skin. “I know it’s difficult, but you can’t blame yourself. You can’t save everyone. But, I promise you, Y/N, that I’ll do everything I can to catch the murderer,” Peter confessed, bringing his body closer to yours. He recalled the way your voice trembled when you called him, and he understood your fear as the murderer directly sent you a message, but he was going to make it his mission to protect you, even if it costs him his life. Your body melted into his as his other hand was placed on your upper arm, and you were glad that you were with him. 

“You can stay here as long as you want until we catch the murderer, I don’t mind,” Peter added, his lips forming an empathetic smile, ”we’ll work together; it’s about time Detective Y/L/N and Spider-Man teamed up to solve a case,” Peter stated, to which you agreed, a faint simper on your face as Peter attempted to console you. He always had the right words to cheer you up, and you began to regret the way you treated him years ago. 

“Pete, I’m so sorr-,” you tried to convey, but Peter cut you off, squeezing your hand. “I know,” he replied, “but how about you rest first before we have that conversation? You look like you’re about to pass out.” You looked at Peter, feeling guilty that you weren’t able to tell him the truth, but you were grateful that you were finally going to have the opportunity to sleep. You nodded your head, agreeing with Peter’s words. 

“Sleep sounds great,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake. Peter smiled at you, detaching himself from you and standing up. “You can stay in my bed, since I have to go to work in about an hour,” he stated, scratching his head, ”I mean-if, that’s alright with you?” You felt your heart warm as Peter still got nervous around you. “That sounds great, Pete, thank you so much,” you sincerely said, standing up as Peter ran to his room, making you assume that he was attempting to hide his dirty clothes or his Legos. You laughed to yourself, picturing Peter still having a Star Wars poster hanging above his bed frame. Once Peter called out your name, you started to walk towards his room. 

As you entered his room, you were slightly disappointed that Peter didn’t have Star Wars posters, his Legos, nor his other geeky items scattered across his room; however, you weren’t upset with the layout of his bedroom. He grew up, but you pretended to not see the poorly hidden Legos box under his bed. “Here are sweatpants and a shirt to sleep in,” Peter said, handing you a pair of his clothes. You beamed, thanking him as he continued to speak,” I have to start getting ready for work, but help yourself to anything in my kitchen if you’re hungry.” You nodded your head, awkwardly waiting for Peter to leave the room so you can change, but his innocent face told you he had no idea that you wanted to change. 

“Um, Pete, do you think you can leave the room so I can change?” you asked, a giggle escaping from your mouth as Peter’s face reddened from embarrassment. He playfully smacked his forehead, ”right, of course, sorry. I’ll let you change, I’ll come back to say goodbye.” Peter didn’t wait for you to respond before he scurried out of the room, still embarrassed by his actions. Once you heard the door close, you wasted no time and changed into Peter’s clothes, feeling your body about to shut down. You plopped onto the bed once you were finished, feeling yourself drift even though you attempted to remain awake until Peter came back. But, your body was giving up on you, and you slowly allowed yourself to fall asleep, thinking of Glimmer once more before your eyes shut closed. 

Unbeknownst to Peter, after giving you enough time to change and get situated, he softly knocked on the door, slowly opening it to say goodbye before he had to leave for work. However, as his eyes landed on your sleeping body, small snores emitting from your open mouth, his heart fluttered as he witnessed you completely knocked out; you were so tired that you didn’t even pull the blanket to cover your body. Peter beamed at the sight in front of him, tip-toeing his way to you, pulling the blanket over your body, to which you happily accepted. 

“Goodnight,” Peter softly whispered, retreating back into the living room. Peter grabbed his keys and jacket before heading out the door.

Taglist: @lukesbabylon​ @spideylovin​ @juliebean247​ @caitsymichelle13​ @averyfosterthoughts​

[siempre-pedro]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Pedro Pascal x Reader 

Summary: Everything is blissful when Pedro asks you to be his dance partner for a dance lesson he has to take for a new role, until you catch a contagious illness and have to cancel. Pedro finds a way to still dance with you and confess his feelings. 

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m obsessed with those songs but in another room videos/audio! I wrote this inspired by Paul Anka’s song...but in another room. I recommend listening to it while you read. 

Requests are OPEN

A gentle knock of your apartment door interrupted your glamorous dinner one Monday night. You folded the corner of your magazine and took one final bite of your Lucky Charms before getting up to answer it “Coming,” you shout, your mouth sill full of cereal.

Once you open the door, you swallow your food as fast as you can, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your hot neighbor. You’d known Pedro for years, he had moved in next to you and sent over a plate of baked goods and a note apologizing in advance for any noise. Both of you were smitten since that day. “Did I interrupt you again?” Pedro asks, grimacing at his awful timing.

“Nah I only got to the who wore it best section this time,” you chuckle, leaning on the cold door frame and tugging your knit sweater up on your shoulder. Pedro ran his fingers through his messy brown hair and then cooly put it in his front pocket “What do you need?”

“A favor,” he responds simply, “when was the last time you danced?” You squint your Y/E/C colored eyes and your lips pucker in thought.

“Senior prom. Why?”

“I signed on to do a project, and I have to learn how to waltz,” he explains, a pink tint rising to his tanned skin. You smile softly and cross your arms over your chest, motioning him to continue. “I found a class on Friday in Midtown, will you please be my partner?”

“Why me?” you ask, trying to hide a giddy smile that was threatening to make an appearance. The man of your dreams was inviting you out and all you do was stand there and look like an idiot! He looked so nervous and precious, standing there fidgeting on his spot.

“You know I have two left feet, I trust you not to laugh at me too much,” he laughs. That was fair, he did, hen he invited you to a friends wedding you got to experience that first hand. “Please, Y/N. I need you,” he begs looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Fine, fine, fine,” you agree “Friday.”

He sighs in relief and pulls his hands from his pockets “You are my savior, Y/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll see pick you up at 5 and we’ll take the Subway, yeah?” He plans excitedly, almost bouncing. You bit back a girly laugh and did your best to keep your calm composure.

“I’ll see you then.”

Except you wouldn’t. Tuesday and come and gone and when Wednesday came you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Your neck was so stiff it felt like you were tied to a board, and after some back and forth with yourself, you made an appointment and thankfully, they were able to see you right away. Pedro was texting you nonstop for updates and made silly jokes to calm you. Some made you giggle and others made you groan from second-hand embarrassment.

Those jokes didn’t help when your doctor stood in front of you, his clipboard under his arm, and his eyes looking stern down at you. The older looking man takes a deep breath before giving you the diagnosis “Its meningitis,” he tells you bluntly.

You blink a couple of times, cocking your head as far as it could go without it hurting…which wasn’t that far at all “Meningitis?” you repeat confused, you’d never heard of that before.

The doctor leans against the old counter and uses his free hand to press against the back of his neck “You have an infection that’s causing swelling of the membrane covering your brain and spinal cord, ” he begins to explain, and this is where your daydreams came to a rough stop “It’s highly contagious and often deadly, seizures, brain damage, hearing loss.”

Your eyes widened at the amount of emphasis he used in ‘highly’ “Oh,” was all you could say. Fuck now you were afraid you were going to die! You couldn’t tell Pedro you liked him if you were dead. “H-how bad is my case?” you ask meekly, your eyebrows turning upwards in worry.

“Thankfully we caught it early and the infection is only bacterial, I’ll be giving you the best antibiotics I can and you should come out of this with no side effects,” he tells you, taking his clipboard from his arm to start writing down a prescription. Here comes another kicker “You need to be quarantined for at least a week, no face to face interaction with other people.”

“I have a date Friday,” you say without thinking about what you just blurted out. The doctor looks up from his clipboard and gave you a look that said ‘are you serious?’

“Do you want them to get infected?”

“No.”

He laughs “Then stay home and rest. I’ll supply you with a few masks to get home, then no going out. You go to the pharmacy and go home. Got it?”

You smile at him “I do. Thank you, Doc.”

Telling Pedro you couldn’t go dancing with him may have been the hardest thing you’d ever have to do. You imagined it was going to crush him as bad as it did you. You lean back in your seat on the train, passengers saw your blue medical mask and creating a bubble around you, at least you were alone-ish. Sliding your phone out of your pocket you begin to text him ‘I’m on my way back.’

He replies almost instantly ‘How’d it go? Are you ok?’

‘I have meningitis. A brain infection basically.’

‘Jesus Christ. Are you going to live???’

‘lol yeah. I have to be quarantined for at least a week. I’m HIGHLY contagious. I can’t go with you Friday, I’m so sorry Pedro.’

Pedro’s quick responses ceased. You were constantly checking your phone every few seconds to see if he texted back. You watched your screen intensely, no pop-up messages were appearing, and when it did it was just an Instagram notification that gave you false hope. It took the actor 7 minutes to finally respond.

‘Fuck. Please don’t worry Y/N, I just really want you to get better! I’ll go to that bodega down the street and get you a few things so you don’t starve and stuff.’

Fuck this guy for taking care of you, fuck him for being sweet and nice and everything you wanted him to be. Too bad you were breaking both your hearts, you think. No Pedro was fine you assumed, just helping out a friend.

When you got back to your apartment you found two grey plastic grocery bags filled with Gatorade, semi-healthy snacks, and Tylenol you assumed. On the bag was a neon yellow sticky note ‘I hope I got you everything you needed. I’ll see you in a few days : ) – Pedro’ it read. You smiled softly to yourself and picked up the bags, ready for the lonely week ahead.

Thursday you were in the worst pain of your life, it was like that scene if Ferris Beuller’s Day Off when Cameron was in bed telling Ferris that he was dying, unable to move. That was you, 80s music and all as you laid hopelessly in your bed, surrounded by clear bottles of Gatorade and snacks that Pedro provided. Pedro himself was only adding to your pain, his constant texts asking how you were and trying to make you feel somewhat better was backfiring, you still felt terrible about the dance class. In the evening Pedro would knock on your door, leaving your mail in front of the doorstep.  Too bad you couldn’t move to get it.

Friday you were able to accomplish getting out of bed and slowly moving around your apartment. You were leaning on your kitchen counter, chicken noodle soup near boil in a silver pot in front of you. You checked the clock on your microwave ‘4:58’ it read in glowing blue letters, Pedro would be leaving at any moment. That is if he was really going of course.

He was, the door to his apartment closed loudly and a light giggle rang through the walls. You stood stiff, that was a female voice. You rushed to grab a medical mask in the living room, tugging on your gray oversized sweater and a good excuse in your mind.

Your door opened in a rush and you stood in the hallway, the speed of everything got Pedro and the woman’s attention. God she was beautiful, tall and bronzed with silky long black hair, if they needed a new Miss Universe it would’ve been her. She was your foil, you were there in sweatpants and your hair greasy hair pulled up into a high bun, a blue medical mask covering your frown but they couldn’t conceal your dark bags. “Y/n,” Pedro speaks cautiously like a man in a relationship getting caught with another woman. The tall skyscraper of a woman scans you up and down disapprovingly and you didn’t miss her taking a step back when you coughed. “This is Katerina. Kat this is Y/n.”

“Hi,” she sighs, and you simply wave at her before crossing your arms over your chest defensively. Katerina, you hated the way he said her name with that accent of his. Your heart was shattered, would rather dance with her. Your mind quickly flashed to him leaning in to kiss her while they danced, their bodies pressed together.

“What are you doing outside?” he asks you with concern.

You bit your quivering lower lip and replied in a faltering tone “I just came to get my mail.”

Pedro’s dark brown eyes look at you sympathetically “Do you need it right now?”

The tears started to form in your eyes, she probably thought you were ridden with disease “N-no.”

“Please go rest, I promise to bring it to you tonight,” he pleads.

“Pedro we need to go, the Uber’s out front,” Katerina interjects.

You didn’t say anything as he offers a guilty smile before walking off with her. Once their figures disappear down the hall you take in a sharp breath, tears falling down your cheeks. Why did you have to get sick? Why did it have to be contagious? Why did he choose her? You were so angry and jealous and it going to the window in your bedroom to watch him help her into the Uber fueled the angry green fire in your soul.

Later that night you sat on your couch brooding, that night’s rerun of Entertainment Tonight providing background noise as you angrily flipped through Vogue. Pedro would be back any moment, and you were just waiting to hear Katerina’s obnoxious giggles. Soon enough Pedro’s front door opened and shut, no exchanges of words or laughter could be heard. Maybe he did come home alone and you were worrying for nothing.

Music started to play from the apartment next to you, the 50s song you recognized from your father's collection and that one all the kids were into these days. Why was he playing it this loud? You could hear Paul Anka’s voice over Kevin Frasiers on the tv, the bass gently thumping the wall behind you.

Your phone started to ring, Pedro’s name and goofy face popped up “Pedro you’re going to have to pay another fine if you keep it this loud,” you say playfully as you answer it.

“How are you feeling?” He asks lowly.

“Better.”

“Good, stand up,” he instructs.

“W-why?”

“Do his for me Y/N, please,” he sighs.

You shrug and oblige, putting your magazine to the side and standing up in the middle of your apartment “Now what?” you inquire.

“Can you hear the music?”

“How can I not… I’m sorry, yes, yes I can,” you laugh.

“Good, now close your eyes and imagine I’m with you…we’re dancing,” he tells you and you do what he says. You smile and start slowly swaying to the song “I really wish you were with me tonight.”

“You didn’t like what’s her name as a partner?”

Pedro chuckles and closes his eyes “No she was fine. I just wish it was you… my first choice.”

“First choice?” you question.

“You’re always my first choice, Y/N.”

‘put your head on my shoulder’ you cock your head to the side and imagine your putting your head in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne bringing a sense of comfort. “I didn’t mean to get sick,” you confess.

“I know, I know… I’m not upset at you or anything. I just had bigger plans for this evening,” he admits, a pink tint rising to his cheeks.

“Which are?” you hum.

“I wanted to tell you that I liked you. More than a friend.” Your eyes open and you snap out of the fantasy, your heart ready to burst from your chest.

“Pedro,” you breathed, wishing he could see the blissful smile. “I’ve liked you since you moved in.”

There’s a silence on both ends, the romantic song filling the void but soon he speaks “Once your better you’ll dance with me?” he wonders.

“I promise,” you say, and the fatigue sets in, “I-I’m getting tired, I did too much today”

Pedro hums in contentment “Go to sleep, I’ll bring your mail and slide it under the door. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Pedro,” you whisper. As you hang up the song ends, your eyes look at the wall that divided your apartments and smiled all the way to your bed.

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

|Yoongi Scenario|

I don’t know if this would be triggering for some people but I am going to put a trigger warning just incase. There’s going to be discussions of body image issues and like the request asked, skipping meals that sort of thing so if that kind of stuff is triggering to you please don’t read on <3

Yoongi is beginning to suspect something is up with you. He’s not an idiot. He’s quiet, but that doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention oh no. Actually it is quite the opposite. He observes what is going on around him, deciding what to say and if he should say anything at all. So he notices that you begin skipping meals. You often used to go out to eat with all the members, but now lately when they’d ask you, you’d always say no, making up an excuse about having to study or go to work when he knew damn well you were just avoiding them for some reason. He was worried maybe you were avoiding him. Like he had done or said something to upset you. Because you would still hang out with the other members at times, but you had almost completely stopped seeing him all together. 

On one of the few days you all did hang out together. Yoongi noticed you avoiding your reflection in every single store window. If you caught your reflection for even a second, you immediately looked away and down at your feet. Even when you all arrived back to your apartment he noticed the mirror you used to have in the hallway was gone. He could tell you were uncomfortable. But when he noticed you started to wear bigger clothing that’s when he finally pieced everything together. 

You weren’t avoiding him because he did anything wrong. You probably just knew how he noticed such little things about you and would probably piece together what was going on with you, just as he did now. As he’s sitting at your table, watching you laugh and joke around with the guys but not even having two bites of the food Jin had made for you, he decides he’s going to stay late and have a talk with you. 

After a movie all of the other members stand up to leave, but you don’t let any of them hug you like you normally would. You say your goodbye and then run off to your bedroom. They all look after you with a confused look on your face.

“You guys should go.. I think I should talk to y/n alone.” They all nod and leave. Yoongi walks towards your bedroom and knocks on it quietly. “Y/n? Is it okay if I come in?”

“Um.. I’d rather you didn’t I’m really not feeling well right so if you and the rest of the members could just leave that would be great.” Yoongi sighs and opens the door anyway. He finds you sitting on your bed, knees tucked up to your chest and fresh tears running down your cheeks. 

“Oh, sweetheart come here.” He holds his arms open and you run off the bed and immediately into his embrace. He can feel that you’ve lost weight now that he’s got his arms around you again. He clings to you a little tighter and you do the same. Yoongi lets you cry as he comforts you, giving you time to collect your thoughts. When you finally pull away he wipes your tears away and offers you a small smile to hopefully cheer you up. You do smile back even if only for a second. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

“For what?”

“Avoiding you... I wasn’t doing it because I was mad I just didn’t want you to...” You trail off not wanting to finish your sentence but Yoongi understands. 

“It’s okay y/n. I know what’s been wrong but, you know we have to talk about this right?” You nod and sit down on your bed, bracing yourself for the tough love from your best friend talk. He sits down next to you. He’s quiet for a few moments like he usually is when he is considering carefully what he wants to say.

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long has this been going on? The skipping meals, avoiding your reflection.. when did you stop seeing yourself as the beautiful person the rest of us see every day?” You look at him in surprise. Yoongi’s called you pretty before, maybe even cute but never beautiful. 

“Um.. I don’t know I guess I’ve always had body image issues but the last few months it’s just been really bad. Usually I am able to keep the thoughts away and tell myself otherwise but, this time I just got tired of trying so hard and kind of gave up on caring about myself.” 

“You know this isn’t good y/n. It’s very dangerous to get yourself into the mindset where you just don’t care anymore. You could end up in the hospital if you don’t eat and take care of yourself. You could pass out, it could cause lasting damage to your body. You need to stop angel, or it’s going to get worse.” You feel tears well up in your eyes. You know he’s right. If there’s one thing you could count on it was Yoongi being brutally honest and giving you the talk you needed to hear. 

“I know.. I know that. And I will try, I promise.”

“Do you.. want to talk to someone? I don’t think it would be a bad idea.”

“Not yet. I want to try and fix this on my own first. I’ve done it before and I think I can do it again.” 

“You don’t have to do it alone though. You can always come to me. Anytime you have those bad thoughts just let me know and I will do everything in my power to make you see how wonderful and beautiful you truly are. But keep in mind you have to see it yourself. I can tell you that I think you’re the prettiest person to ever walk this earth until I am blue in the face. But all of that means nothing if you don’t believe it yourself.” You nod.

“I know. And I promise you I will work on that. I’m going to focus on the reasons I have to love myself.” 

“Good! And if you need a reminder we have 3 albums talking about the journey towards loving yourself so! Not that I am trying to boost our sales or anything but we have 4 versions of each...” You burst out laughing at that and Yoongi shoulders start to shake as he laughs along with you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi. Really. You’re an amazing friend and I couldn’t ask to have anyone better in my life.” He smiles and pulls you into another hug. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I want to help you.” He pulls away and places a chaste kiss to your foreehead and ruffles your hair playfully. “Now get some sleep. It’s late. Tomorrow I will take you out for breakfast. We’ll start small maybe just a coffee and a muffin is that okay?” You nod. 

“That sounds perfect.” He bids you goodbye and is about to reach the door to your apartment when he has an idea. He goes to your drawer where you keep your sticky notes and pens. He writes for the next hour, hoping that you will fall asleep so he can quietly sneak into your bathroom and leave these for you. 

The next morning you wake up and walk into your bathroom. You are going to look in the mirror to see how messed up your hair is when something colorful catches your eye. All along the outside of the mirror, Yoongi has wrote things on post it notes with compliments and amazing qualities about yourself. 

Your eyes are gorgeous. Like wow the most beautiful I have ever seen. CEO of having beautiful eyes. 

You laugh at that and continue reading the others. 

I meant what I said what I said you were beautiful. The most beautiful. 

And what makes you even more beautiful is your kind and caring heart. 

Your body is perfect too no matter what those thoughts tell you. Remember a few months ago when you wore that dress? Yeah, that black one. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.  

Each one goes on like this and you soon start to feel yourself tearing up. The messages he left for you were so sweet and soon you are full on sobbing as you pull your phone out and dial his number. He answers, his voice groggy and sounding like you had woken him up. He doesn’t even say hello, just grunts. 

“Yoongi! You... Oh my gosh you made me cry!” 

“What? What do you mean why?”

“The messages you left for me!” 

“But why are you crying? They were nice weren’t they?”

“They were too nice! Oh my god you are the sweetest.” You continue babbling into the phone and Yoongi lays in bed chuckling and smiling to himself. 

“So... breakfast then?”

“I can’t go to breakfast when I look a mess because you made me cry!” 

“I’m sure you look fine, y/n. You always look gorgeous. Sexy. Lovely. 10/10 would b-”

“Yoongi!” You begin laughing loudly and he laughs along with you. One of his loud laughs that you rarely get to hear. It’s a nice sound. 

“Sorry. I’m just trying to get my point across. If it makes you feel better I can bring it back to your apartment if you want?”

“Yes please. I like that idea better. Then we can just watch TV or something and I can stay in my pajamas all day.”

“Alright, love. I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up and looks at the photo on his lock screen. He stares at the photo of the two of you, wondering how you can’t see that you are literally perfect. Sure maybe he’s biased because he’s a little bit in love with you. He’s going to confess to you, just not yet. He wants you to love yourself first. And he is going to be there for every step of the way and help you on that journey. Just like the other members were there for him too. 

[cinnamonbun-dai]

truth of villainy

(tamaki amajiki)

(｀・∀・') angst (｀・∀・')

-

1

-

Amajiki was fuming, hell even more than fuming at this point.

"Why didn't you tell me you were working with the P.L.F?" he shouted, accidentally finding out you, out of all people and heroes, was working along side the most wanted villains in Japan. "I'm undercover! Don't you get that! I'm trying to figured out a way to destroy them, to stop them." you try and reason, making sure to keep your cool. Yes, you were working undercover in the P.L.F, along side Hawks, deciding that having two people undercover would help with information, but with time, you started to agree with their ideology. "Then why hasn't this undercover stuff been talked about with other agencies, I would of thought that my agency or FatGum's would of known about it!" he started to feel his eyes water. "The only agencies that know about the case is Hawks and the gouvernement! They didn't want to put anyone else in danger." you raised your voice slightly, trying to get your point across. "Y-you're just a vigilante! I saw how you and Hawks' talked. You know what, how about you just run of to Hawks, be vigilantes or villains together!" he started crying, his angers getting the best of him. "I love you Tamaki, fuck, I didn't tell you cause I wanted to keep you safe. The P.L.F are a big organisation, bigger than you could ever expect! I don't want you to get hurt!" you start crying yourself, gripping the edge of the table. "I can't even look at you in eyes anymore (Y/N), you were a great hero, but I guess you fell from grace, you flew to close to the sun..." he cried, the use of your name and not the pet name he called you nearly all the time sent shivers down your spine. "You're on your way to becoming a villain..." he continued, the words you and Hawks' shared resonating in his mind. 'To be honest the P.L.F has a good point in society.' 'People rely on heroes too much, overworking everyone.' "I'd never become a villain, if I did I would end myself on the spot!" you shouted, your hands now moving up to your sleeves to grip tightly at your arms. "Just go some place else for the night, please... I-I need space to think." he said, more calmly than before. "O-okay..." you shakily say, taking your wallet and keys before putting your jacket and boots on. "I'll come back t-tomorrow or something... Love you Tama..." you don't hear him answer you, so you shut the door.

"H-hey Hawks, can you please stay at yours for a night or two?" you ask Hawks once you arrived at his apartment, your eyes watering more from the fact that this was real, you and Amajiki might of just broken up over some stupid mission, over your opinions. You loved him so much, it hurt so much to see him not anymore. All you wanted to do was to protect him and you never thought your ideologies would put an end to something you thought would be infinite. He nodded, opening his arms for a much needed hug. "It's gonna be okay angelwings... There,there... Now come on, I made chicken wings earlier." he patted your head, his comment on food making you laugh through your sobs. Maybe things happen for a reason.

-

2

-

A night had passed since you ended up at Hawks after your fight with Amajiki. And just because it was a new day didn't mean that your feelings weren't stirred, and you still had work to do. You managed to ignore your feelings during patrol mostly, avoiding certain areas you knew he would be patrolling at the same time. But of course, you had to stumble onto him.

"Angel, get down to area 13, Haroyu Street now! Emergency, 3 high-end Nomu, 4 regular Nomus!" you heard your ear piece say to you. You both knew it was going to happen, so there was no panic or hurry in his voice. "On it Hawks!" you reply, soon flying over the area he noted, seeing a high-end Nomu on the ground beneath. You started blinding it, hoping it would help the other heroes at taking it down since it's sight would be taken away. But it didn't. Which meant you had to swoop in and attack with the other heroes. After 5 minutes of fighting, managing to take one down with the help of Ground Zero and Uravity you saw a tentacle slam a regular Nomu into the ground. "Oh fuck me..." you mutter, sending a dagger to the Nomu to destroy it's brain. Seeing Amajiki right now was the last thing you wanted but you knew not to let feelings mess with work. "Suneater! Once you've finished knocking down that nomu, come and help us with the high-ends, two people have already been knocked down and we need at least 4 please!" you shout at him, he quickly looked at you and nodded before getting to his previous task. The fight against the nomus lasted a while, and a good number of people got injured and you ended up breaking a bone in your left wing (which wasn't really a big deal, it happened often) and a good number of bruises and scratches.  

"So, what ya gonna do if you and Amajiki have fully broken up?" Hawks asked, walking back to the agency with you after quickly meeting with Dabi. "I honestly don't know, in a perfect world: take a hiatus until I'm over him and get back on track with everything but shit doesn't stop so I can't take a break. I should really go over and see him after dinner." you explained. You recently had a meeting with the hero security agency about ending the missions since all the info you needed was now known.

After dinner you went over to Amajiki's apartment, either to go get the rest of your stuff or to make up. You opened the front door carefully in case he was sleeping. You go over to the kitchen to get a glass of water, trying to ease your anxiety with some water. "Y-You were good out there today..." you heard his voice behind you, making you jump. "Ah Tamaki, thanks, you too!" you turned the compliment back, turning to face him. You both stayed in awkward silence, not knowing what to do or say. "The mission is ending soon..." you finally speak up, breaking it. He looked at you confused. "The mission with the P.L.F, we're gonna be ending it soon. The means of ending it won't be pretty but at least it'll be over." you explain. You knew ending the mission meant risking your lives and breaking trusts that you spent months building. "Why couldn't you tell me about the mission sooner?" he asked, sitting up on the counter. "Because I couldn't, if I did and someone found out you would be in danger." you sigh, looking at him. "The P.L.F is bigger than we thought, they find things out with out you even being aware. And they have a nasty rep of going after their members loved ones and blackmailing them to giving them funds or more." you continue, remembering all the acts you ended up seeing during meetings. "Look, last night I might of overreacted. But I still think we need a break. It made me realise how much hero work and relationships don't mix. I really love you, even a bit too much, but I don't think we shouldn't continue our relationship, we barely see each other outside of work anyways, I mean when was the last time we were intimate sexually? 2, 3 months? And when was the last time we went on a date?" Amajiki words made a ball form in your stomach. Five years of love, of laughs, disintegrated by some words and missions. "Just because we're heroes doesn't mean we aren't allowed to love. I understand where you're coming from, but we still love each other, don't we? Yes there's issues with us not seeing each other due to hero work and missions, but, fuck Tamaki, I would give up anything to be able to call you min-" you were cute off by feeling lips on yours, easily knowing they were Amajiki's from their shape and taste. The kiss deepened from a mix of anger and desperation, both of you hungrily grabbing at each other like it was the last. Hell, it probably would be. You felt him lift you up from the counter, bringing you to the bed you knew so well.

3 hours later, you woke up on the bed, without Amajiki. "Tama?" you called out, maybe he was in the kitchen, but you had no answer. You got up, getting redressed. You noticed a sticky note on the mirror you use to leave little love notes on when you started work earlier than him.

'I am sorry (Y/N), Please pack your bags and leave I shouldn't of slept with you again It was a heat of the moment thing. It is for the best that we split up. You will always have a special place in my heart but we both aren't in the right moment or lives to have a significant other, no matter how much we love them I do hope we can stay friends, see you around Tamaki Amajiki '

Your heart broke even more, you quickly took your bags and packed your stuff, tears threatening to spill. Before you left, you quickly wrote a note.

'You'll always have a place in my brain and heart, but i guess being friends isn't that bad, See you around Amajiki'

You placed it next to the one he wrote you before you left, calling Hawks on your way trying to find a place to stay. "What's up angelwings? Did ya make up with Amajiki?" "No Takami, can I please stay at yours until I find a place of my own? I'm sorry." "It's all good, ya can stay for as long as you like angelface, tell me the dets when you get here. See ya!" you heard him beam before hanging up, smiling slightly at the new nickname. You knew once you got there you would allow yourself to cry your eyes out while he tried to reassure you by making corny jokes or feeding you some sort of chicken, making you chuckle at the way he didn't know how to deal with other people's emotions.

Maybe bad things are followed by good things?

-

(unedited)

[let-love-run-red]

The Adventures of a Single Father-6

AN: I’m so sorry loves, I know I said “this week” like two weeks ago but everything went up in flames after that. My S/O’s dad was hospitalized and I was caring for my grandma’s cats along with all my assignments from my classes, but here’s the long awaited next chapter! Again, I’m sorry for the wait :(

Tag list: @ktellmeastory​, @sincereleygmg, @0hour9am​, @siobhanlovesfilm​, @thefandomzoneisdangerous​, @darthseph​, @alyssah430, @pinkmoontribe-blog​, @ikbenplant​, @holy-kylo-stars​, @werosies​, @malefoygal​

When you walked into your apartment with the milk and batteries you were met by the sight of Laura perched on the counter top with Basilisk wrapped around her neck, watching the door.

"And she returns." Laura said with a grin as Basil flicked his tongue towards you. You smiled back at her before putting the milk in the fridge and tossing her the batteries.

"Awesome! The batteries in the remote were just starting to go out." She said, rushing towards the TV.

"Y'know i was thinking we could finally fix the controllers and play some more Battlefront?" You suggested. You heard a delighted squeal from Laura before she groaned.

"No (y/n) we don't have time." She said with a dramatic pout. You sighed. She was right, you had work tomorrow and she had the early shift at the vet's office. Besides, you needed plenty of energy to watch Cody tomorrow.

"Why do you have to be right?" You asked, flopping dramatically onto the couch beside her and leaning against her. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning back and stroking Basilisk as if he were an expensive fur ruff.

"Because I'm amazing darling that's why." She adopted a fake British accent and you giggled before standing from your spot on the couch and helping her up. Basilisk stuck his tongue out at you before turning to loop himself once more around Laura's neck

"C'mon, we should be going to bed." She said as she walked towards the hall that branched off into her room and yours. You followed behind her, pausing in her doorway as she gently untangled Basil and held him up to her face to make a kissy noise at him. She reached to place him in the tank when you spoke.

"Hey Laur," You said. She hummed in response. You missed your girl talks that the two of you used to have. "can I talk to you?" You asked. She immediately turned to look at you with concern painting her features.

"What's wrong?" She asked, walking towards you.

"Nothing, I just miss talking with you." You said. She smiled.

"Of course we can talk hun, go get your pajamas and we'll have a girls night. It's only eight." She held Basil up to her shoulders and he twined around her neck once more as she gently stroked his back. You smiled and walked to your room to change out of your work clothes at last and into pajamas. You walked into Laura's room to see her wearing a tank top and a pair of sweatpants with Kylo Ren's lightsaber on the top of the left thigh. Basilisk was draped lazily across her shoulders as she clicked away on her laptop.

You settled yourself on her bed next to her, pressing your side against hers, pulling the buffalo plaid blanket around your shoulders and bumping your nose against Basil's when he looked at you curiously. Laura pressed play and you watched Geralt of Rivia appear on the screen.

"The Witcher? Really? You didn't get enough of him in the game?" You teased. You knew Laura had a bit of a crush on Geralt.

"Hey shut up, be nice to me." Laura said, tossing a pillow at you and tugging at her blanket.

"Does Chris know about your hard on for Geralt?" You teased.

"Of course he does, he's got one for Geralt too." She said. You laughed and rested your head on her shoulder after making sure Basilisk wouldn't be crushed.

"So what'd you want to talk about?" She asked softly. You groaned.

"I don't know. Adam I guess?" You said. Laura immediately sat up and looked at you.

"Are you finally fucking him?" She asked quickly. You gave her a bewildered look.

"No?"

"Dammit, we thought the two of you would be fucking by now." She said. You blinked at her.

"What?"

"(y/n), honey, it is so obvious you like him. Like, you're worse than Chris and I were." She said before leaning over the edge of her bed and pulling out a plastic box filled with bags of chips and boxes of crackers. She pulled a bag of chips out and a few napkins and opened the bag before popping one in her mouth. Basil leaned out to scent the bag and dropped off Laura's shoulder. Laura sighed and picked him up, placing him back around her neck.

Obvious? How was it obvious? Did Adam know? Had he picked up on it? You felt heat rising in your cheeks as Laura held a chip in front of your mouth.

"Eat it and ask your questions." She said. You opened your mouth and crunched the chip before speaking.

"How obvious?" Was your first question. You hoped to God Adam didn't know how hard you'd fallen for him.

"Ok well obvious to me but I live with you," Laura looked at your face. "but I doubt Adam noticed. He's got Cody on him 24/7 that seems to be his main focus." She said before popping another chip in her mouth. You let out a breath.

"So, what about Adam did you want to talk about?" Laura asked, not really even paying attention to the show anymore.

"Well you apparently know I like him," You said with a chuckle. "i'm watching Cody tomorrow." You said. Laura gasped before coughing violently. Basil lifted his head and opened his mouth wide. You picked him up and gently pet him until Laura stopped coughing.

"He's letting you watch his kid?" She asked, turning to you with a red face and teary eyes. You chuckled and used your sleeve to dab at her cheeks.

"Yeah, he's got work at like 7 I guess, i'm going over at 6:30." You said to her. Laura wiggled her eyebrows in a joking way and you giggled, pushing her shoulder gently. She lay down on the bed, holding her arms out for Basil. You handed him back to her and she gently took him, kissing the top of his head as he wound around her hand.

You lay in silence with her for a few moments, watching her fawn over basil and listening to the Witcher in the background. You didn't want to go to sleep just yet, but you couldn't think of anything else to tell her.

"Laura, do you think I have a chance?" You asked, turning to look at her and rested your head against her shoulder.

"With what?" Laura asked in a high pitched baby voice as she stroked Basil's head.

"With Adam you dingus." You said with a laugh as you pushed on her stomach.

"Hey! Be gentle, I might be pregnant for all you know." She turned to look at you.

"Ew gross don't put that thought in my head while I'm laying on your bed. Basil, I'm sorry you've had to witness that." You said sarcastically, putting your face in front of Basil. He flicked his tongue out and Laura chuckled.

"I do think you have a chance. He seems to like you, I mean he's letting you watch Cody." Laura said with a yawn. You stretched and rolled over so your back was facing her, and she reached over to scratch between your shoulders.

"Laura we should go to bed." You mumbled as her hand slowly stopped moving to rest on your back. She let out a soft snore and you turned your head to see her lying on her back with Basil on her chest as she snored with Basil curled around himself, breathing slowly.

You smiled, slowly getting up and picked up Basil, placing him in the elaborate tank Laura had set up for him with his humidifier, plants, and his heat lamp. It was almost a miniature ecosystem in itself enclosed in a 100 gallon tank. Basil slithered into his enclosure, promptly curling himself under the heat lamp. You slid the door shut on the front of the enclosure before pausing the show on Laura's laptop and shutting the screen. You gently pushed Laura's shoulder until she woke with a snort.

"Chris no let me sleep." She mumbled and you chuckled.

"Not Chris, best friend (y/n)." You said. She groaned and opened her eyes.

"Bed, c'mon." You said, poking her again. She let out a huff.

"I was in bed." She argued, rolling off the bed and helping you put the snacks away.

"Yes but you can't sleep with a bag of chips and box of snacks on your bed. I'd be a bad roommate if I let you." You said. She waved you away after giving you a quick hug, and you ventured to your own room for the night.

**

The next morning Adam was in a frenzy. Every time he thought of or did anything relating to Cody, he left a note on a sticky note to tell you where and what it was. Where his diapers were, formula, his favorite toys, his best blanket, the mittens he hated, the clean bottles, the large blanket he used for Cody to crawl on, to make sure you watched Cody because he liked to try to crawl into the back half of the apartment which was Adams wood shop and he hadn't fixed the baby gates yet so they kind of just pushed open and, and, and...

Adam wrote another note and stuck it to the top of the gates when he walked past it.

It was 5:54, you said you were going to come half an hour early so Adam could show you where things were and how to do feedings and to only try a little bit of the baby food jars because he was only seven months but Adam still wasn't totally comfortable letting him eat solids in case he was allergic or it upset his stomach but Dr. Garcia said he should but, but, but...

He wrote another note and stuck it to the shelf the baby food was on.

Then on second thought, he pushed all the jars to the back corner of the small pantry and put the box of minute rice in front of them.

Then pulled the formula from the pantry and set it on the counter. Then shut the pantry door so he wouldn't have to think about it. He heard Cody babble happily and looked into the living room to see Cody standing and clinging onto the couch.

"Dada!" Cody called, reaching one hand towards Adam before falling back onto his butt on the blanket. Adam walked over to Cody with a smile, picking him up and snuggling him against his chest. Adam playfully blew a raspberry at Cody while touching his cheek to Cody's, and Cody let out a squeal and a giggle.

"You excited little man?" Adam asked Cody, pulling him away and holding him up to look at Cody. Cody smiled his toothless smile. Well, almost toothless. Adam furrowed his brows and sat on the couch, sitting Cody on his lap as he gently opened Cody's mouth with his pinky finger. Cody squirmed as Adam brushed his gum. His bottom incisors were just starting to poke through his gums.

"Oh god why today?" He wondered aloud. He felt terrible leaving (y/n) with a teething baby, he remembered how bad Caroline said Sample was when her teeth started coming in. She would constantly scream, cry, wouldn't eat, and could never be soothed. She had gone nearly insane and Adam had to come watch Sample for a few days while she went out.

Though, he remembered how easy it had been once he got there. He had held her and comforted her, talking quietly to Sample as she cried into his shirt. She had finally stopped crying and fallen asleep against Adam's chest after nearly an hour of him pacing the room. As long as he held her, Sample was fine. He had made a bottle of formula and she'd taken half of if before crying. He'd spent the rest of the night coaxing her to eat and comforting her when she refused to let go of his shirt.

Then the memory soured when he remembered shortly after that Caroline had walked out on Laird. What was it with women he knew and walking out on their babies? He shook his head and looked down to see Cody chewing on his own hand. Adam gently pulled Cody's hand from his mouth, using the hem of his shirt to wipe the drool from Cody's mouth and chin. Cody squealed and tried to pull his head away from Adam's touch. There was a knock on the door and Adam's head snapped up as he instinctively held Cody closer to his chest. He stood to open the door to see you on the other side.

"Hey Adam, I'm not too early am I?" You asked with a grin. He felt a smile he couldn't control cross his face as he looked at you, your perfect (e/c) eyes that complimented your (s/t) skin and (h/c) hair, the nervous way you shifted your weight between your feet and the way your smile sparkled.

"Not at all, come on in kid." He said, not able to stop himself before using the nickname on you. You took it in stride as you shrugged off your coat and set your purse on the couch where he'd just been sitting. You turned to face Adam, ready for him to tell you what to do when you noticed a sticky note on the diaper bag by the door. You raised an eyebrow as you looked around the apartment.

There were sticky notes on the doors, the knobs, toys on the counter, on the cupboard, the bottles of formula in the kitchen, the door to Adam's room, the bathroom, nearly everywhere.

"Trying out a new organization system?" You asked with a chuckle, reading one of the sticky notes on the front doorknob. It read "I don't think Cody can reach this" and you chuckled. Adam's face turned red, the tips of his ears that poked through his hair turning red as well. You smiled and approached him, saying hi to Cody.

"So what do I need to know to watch this little guy hm?" You asked, making a funny face that caused Cody to giggle and squeal delightedly. Adam smiled a little bit, happy to just watch the two of you interact, but eventually cleared his throat and passed Cody off to you before walking you through the kitchen and explaining where everything was, how to make a bottle for Cody, and where the emergency numbers were listed.

He walked through the rest of the apartment, pointing out potential hazards and making doubly sure you knew about the gates of the wood shop, and that Cody liked to throw his toys behind the large African blackwood bookshelf he'd made and then cry when he couldn't reach them. Adam said if that happened, don't worry about it he would get them when he got home because the bookshelf was heavy and even he could barely lift it. He didn't know why he mentioned that part, some part of him liked being strong for you but he didn't know why. He shook his head and led you towards his room, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't curious about Adam's room. You knew your apartments were similar and two of the largest on the floor, and the rear half of the living room had been turned into Adam's wood shop. But you were surprised when he opened the door. You hadn't been expecting to see his mattress on the floor surrounded by stacks of acting magazines and screenplays. The blankets were bunched up like he'd just gotten up and the pillows were piled onto the other half of the bed. Across from the bed next to the radiator Cody's crib was nestled against the wall, with his changing table in the corner.

"Ok, his diapers are on that shelf under the changing table, and his clothes and blankets are, well, here." Adam said, stepping past you and walking towards the oak bookshelf between the two closets. He patted the middle shelf, the one at perfect chest height for him. He continued patting each shelf with Cody's things on it and explaining what each one was. Blankets, onesies, small outfits, diapers, nearly everything Adam could need during the night was stacked on the bookshelf.

The quality of the bookshelf, both this one and the one you'd seen in the living room, were amazing. You could tell Adam had put time and effort into making them both, and wondered why he didn't make woodworking his career. He could definitely make a pretty penny if all his work was up to this standard.

"Also, one more thing, I'm so sorry." Adan said, wincing slightly as Cody started fussing and chewing his own hand. You gently pulled his hand from his mouth and gave Cody a soft smile before tilting your head to Adam.

"He's teething." Adam said, waiting for an outburst.

"Aw poor man," You held Cody in front of you, "I'm sure that hurts little bud, I know growing is tough." You said, holding him close to your chest and patting his back.

"That's not a problem Adam, do you have any teething toys?" You asked. Adam looked lost and you chuckled.

"They're usually little rings with water inside them, they've got kind of a hard plastic?" You described the teething toys you'd used when babysitting before.

"Oh those things, We got a bunch when Hayley threw herself a baby shower." Adam said, opening one of the closets and digging through a bin at the bottom.

"Hayley didn't think they were cute enough for him to play with so, they just kind of got thrown in here." He said, emerging with a handful of teething toys in varying shapes and colors. You smiled, taking a fish shaped one and passing it to Cody. He took it and examined it before biting one of the fins at the back.

"I'll show you a trick Laura taught me." You said, taking some of the other teething toys from his hand and walking into the kitchen.

Adam watched you as you walked, admiring the way you moved, the way Cody seemed so comfortable with you, the way you supported his body perfectly and held him close to you. The way you talked to him, cuddled him, were there for him. He wouldn't mind waking up to you in his bed, caring for Cody. He wouldn't mind you curling yourself against his chest at night so he could hold you and protect you, welcome you into his little family.

He quickly shook his head when he realized you'd been calling him.

"You alright?" You asked with concern. Adam smiled and nodded.

"Yeah kid, yeah I'm good." He said. "So what trick did Laura teach you?" He asked. You grinned, opening the fridge and setting the teething toys on one of the shelves, placing one toy in the freezer.

"Sometimes having the toys cold helps, I don't know why but Laura's mom ran a daycare for eleven years with Laura's help and they both swear by this." You said with a smile as Cody continued chewing on the toy in his mouth.

Adam watched you as you watched Cody. He resisted the urge to step forward, hold both of you in his arms, pushed down that protective urge in him. It was there with Hayley, it's there with Cody, now it's there with you, and that scared him. He trusted you, he wanted you to be his. He wanted you to be part of his little family in his little corner of the world, tucked away in his small apartment in New York where he could keep it safe.

You looked up from Cody, seeing Adam looking at the two of you with a soft smile on his face. You felt a heat creeping into your cheeks as you looked back down to Cody, trying to suppress a smile. You didn't mind Adam looking at you like that. Actually, and you would never say it out loud, you liked it. You wanted him to look at you like that forever, wanted to fall asleep with him looking at you like that. You shook your head and glanced at the clock.

"Uh, Adam it's 6:45." You said. Adam quickly snapped himself out of his daze and looked at the clock frantically.

"Shit!" He called, running to the front room and slipping his feet into his boots, bending over to tie the laces quickly.

"Adam, calm down it's alright." You said comfortingly. Adam let out a sigh as he finished tying the laces, standing up and digging around on the table by the door for his keys. You walked towards the table, reaching under a piece of paper and handing Adam his keys. He smiled and thanked you, before quickly rushing out the door after saying goodbye to Cody.

"Alright little bud, we're gonna have fun tonight yeah?" You asked, holding Cody up in front of you. He giggled, pulling the toy from his mouth and reaching towards you.

"Mm-a!" Cody said delightedly as you tilted your head.

"Mama!" Cody squealed, finally forming the word. You blinked, slightly taken aback. If you'd expected anything from Cody it was certainly not that. You didn't even know he could speak yet.

You'd have to mention it to Adam when he got home.

[baekhyuq]

“Mister Off limits.” | Baekhyun (m)

Part 1

Genre: Smut

Word: count: 3k

Mini Playlist: Baby Dont Play - Wonder girls

Summary: Your brothers friends were off limits, your dads coworkers were off limits. But if one your dad’s coworkers are too handsome to resist, you might have to tip toe around his rules.

Masterlist

| Next >>

You yawn crossing your legs under you desk, the day had started boring and ended the same way. The bell to start 7th period rang and you tried paying attention through out the class period.

Your friend Jongin tapped you on the shoulder, making you turn around.

“Yes?” You whispered giving me a smile.

“When does this class end?”

“I think at 3:20.” You guess.

“Alright, do you want to hang out later? It’s the first day of winter break.” He sends your a smile.

“Yes! As long as my dad doesn’t text me to bring him dinner.” You groan, your dad would usually skip lunch and ask you to bring him food since he’s so busy. You would always come without fail.

Your father worked at a huge magazine company, as the CEO. After seeing how busy your father is all the time at the office you didn’t want to work there. Your father promised you a spot as an assistant for the winter break. It gave you something to do and a way to earn money. You regretted saying you would, knowing he won’t be easy on you. You couldn’t let your daddy down, not after what he’s done for you.

As if on que, your phone buzzes indicating a text. It’s from your dad of course.

“Hey sweetie can you stop by somewhere and grab me dinner, sorry, love you.”

You read it in his voice and can’t help but to feel bad your poor father being so busy he doesn’t eat. Of course you will bring him food.

You text him back quickly. “Yes dad, love you too.”

The bell sounds for 7th period to end and you stand and sling your back over your shoulder.

“Hey, Jongin I have to deliver my dad food. Sorry we can hang out another day I promise!”

Jongin smiles at you and ruffles your hair. “It’s fine, go deliver your food pizza boy!” He teases and runs from your swatting hands.

You stop by a local restaurant that sold soup. The weather was cold so your father should be eating something warm. You order two bowls of broccoli cheddar soup with a side of toasts. Minutes later your order was made, steaming emitting from the bag. You picked up the paper bag, thanking the employee.

The drive to the office was short, it being about 5 minutes from the soup restaurant. You tried to park in underground parking by your fathers silver car but you noticed a black 2018 RS7 Audi parked in your usual space. This fucking tool! The space is reserved for you, always! Well it’s technically for the COO aka Vice President but since the company doesn’t currently have one it’s always empty. But who the hell would dare to take your spot? Unless that is the company’s Vice President? You huff and put your car in park by the Audi, you write an angry note and stick it on the windshield wipers for when they come back. They’ll get a piece of your mind today.

Heading toward the automatic doors with food in one hand and your pass and phone in the other. You get to the guard and you show him your pass, he nods and allows you through. You press the elevator button and enter it, it’s just you and some man in a black coat. You press the top floor and the doors close.

“Ah its so cold outside.” The man says, his voice is deep.

You nod offering a tight smile, not looking at the man.

“We’re going to the same place?” You ask noticing he hadn’t hit a button.

He nods and you finally look at him, to say he’s handsome is an understatement. His hair is light as the clouds in the sky and his eyes are as dark as the night. His contrasting features cause you to stare longer than you meant to. The man clears his throat.

“You must work here. I’m new.” He says smiling, he glances down at your pass and you forget you’re delivering food.

“Oh no! I’m just here to drop of food for my father.” You giggle.

The elevator door dings and you look at him allowing him to go first. He shakes his head and gestures for you to exit. You kindly nod and leave the elevator walking toward your fathers office. You notice the mans walking the same way. You quirk an eyebrow, becoming suspicious of the man. Is he here to speak with the president?

You stop at the doors to the office and you hear the man stop as well. You turn around to find the man with his hands behind his back.

“So you’re the presidents daughter?” He asks before you turn the knob.

You nod with an eyebrow raised, if he’s new it’s normal for him to be meeting with the president but usually the president calls for the newbies himself.

“I’ll wait out here then.” He says.

“Y/n, my sweetheart. What did you bring today?” Your father smiles at you lovingly as you enter his office and sit the paper bag on his desk.

“It’s broccoli cheddar soup, from that restaurant across from the book store.” You’ve fallen in love with their cooking. “The weathers getting colder so you should eat warmer now.” You take out the bowls with seals on them. You notice they’ve given you three.

“You’re always looking after me, Y/n. This is going to be delicious.”

“Daddy, they accidentally gave me three?” You look at him asking if he wants two bowls and he declines.

“You should give it to Baekhyun outside he’s been working hard all day, I don’t think he’s had lunch.” Your father says eating the soup already. “He’s our new Vice President you know.”

Your body freezes in its place. The new vice president? You mean the new vice president that drives a 2018 RS7 Audi and currently has a very angry sticky note on it? You mentally kick yourself in the ass. This was going to be great to hear about later.

You turn to the door and stiffly walk over and open it. Baekhyun’s standing there with his arms crossed, bright yellow sticky note in between his fingers. He has a smirk on his face and it’s scaring you slightly.

“Oh ahaha. You got my note...” You nervously laugh. “Listen I’m so sorry I would have n-never wrote that if-if—“

“If I wasn’t the vice president?” He laughs at your stuttering speech. “I like how you called me a ‘poopy head that can’t park where they’re supposed to.’ That really took the cake as the worst diss.”

“Ugh, don’t rub it in.” You groan, he laughs at your embarrassment and you speak again. “I have a third bowl of soup, my dad said you didn’t eat so..”

He looks at you funnily. “I’d love some soup.”

Your father looks delighted to see you eating alongside his new coworker Baekhyun. You’re annoyed with his teasing manner and the fact that he keeps joking about the sticky note. You want to hit him on his head but you refrain.

“Actually Y/n and I met earlier.” Baekhyun says finishing his soup. You’re hoping he doesn’t bring up the note. “Even though it was one sided, she gave me this lovely note on my car. Even though I was in said car at the time.” He chuckles darkly.

You plead with your eyes for him to drop the matter, you father would scold you if he knew what you did.

“Oh? What does the note say?” Your father stops eating and puts his attention on Baekhyun.

“Why don’t you read it yourself, President.” Baekhyun passes the note to your father who reads it quickly before looking at you sternly.

“Y/n L/n!” He says your full name, “Why would you say these things to Mr. Byun! He’s our vice president you know!”

You groan in your chair at your father beginning his lecture about you being respectful to your elders. Which you completely understand, but the lecture is a bit unnecessary.

“Dad, I know..” You say meekly.

“As punishment your winter break job will be to be Mr. Byun’s personal assistant.” Ypu open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off.

“No if ands or buts.” Your fathers words pause you from objecting.

“Yes dad...”

Baekhyun’s shit eating grin was appalling to you right now.

“I’m going home now, Dad. Finish your food don’t let it get cold.” You hug your father. You turn to Baekhyun who playfully opens his arm expecting a hug.

“No hug and goodbye father to me?”

You roll your eyes and mouth “Fuck you.” to him. “Goodbye, vice president.”

The next day isn’t what you were looking forward to. The first day of your job as Baekhyun’s stupid assistant. All because of some dumb parking spot.

The minute you begin getting ready you realize you have no idea what to wear to work. You look up examples online, most of them involve the color black and skirts or dresses. You opt for a long sleeve wrap dress that hugs your body and stops at your knees. Obviously you would be wearing your huge winter coat because it’s literally freezing. You sling your purse on your shoulder and grab the car keys from your bedside table.

You make it to work on time, parking in a different garage from your normal spot since it’s...occupied. You take the elevator up to the top floor and you let it sink in that you’re basically this mans slave till winter break is over. You close your eyes and rub your temples, lets not get a headache so early in the morning. The elevator stops at a lower level floor and someone enters.

“Morning Miss L/n.” The voice belongs to who you think it does.

Byun Baekhyun. Vice president. Mister kiss my ass.

“Good morning, vice president.” You use formal titles no matter how mad you are with him.

The elevator door closes and it’s silent. You can smell his cologne and the scent of his aftershave almost. It’s intoxicating to you, you would never admit to him how good he smells.

“I smell good?” He asks.

You choke on air. “What?”

“You keep taking deep breathes you either have asthma or I smell good to you.”

“No—“ You shut your mouth remembering you’re his assistant. “I can smell your cologne, it smells nice.” Your cheeks redden at complimenting him.

He quietly hums, turning back to the elevator doors.

You both get off at the top floor, you greet your father before returning to Baekhyun, who you can’t seem to find at the moment.

You look left and right, in and out of rooms. You look like a lost child wondering around the office.

“Are you looking for somebody?” The voice scares you shitless. You turn to find Baekhyun, a grin on his lips his eyes kind.

“Yeah, you.” You roll your eyes and he walks to what seems to be his office. You follow behind closely. You both enter and you close the door behind you.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask, you’ve never been an assistant before. You’re not sure if you just stand by his desk all day till he needs something or do you make yourself busy.

“Ah, I want some coffee.” He takes off his coat, revealing his dark turtleneck underneath. He sits in his swivel chair, leaning back.

“Okay. I’ll be back.” You rush off to the small coffee shop downstairs, ordering a simple coffee. He didn’t say what kind so you guessed what he might like. You also ordered a pumpkin scone and a chocolate milk for yourself.

“Here’s your coffee.” you sit down the steaming cup on his desk, making a make-shift coaster. “I didn’t know what coffee you like so I just guessed.”

“First mistake, you didn’t ask to confirm.” He says, but nonetheless takes a sip. He makes a face at the taste, wiping his mouth. “This is really sweet, how much sugar is in this?”

“I’m not sure...you looked like a guy to like sweet coffee.”

“Get me another coffee.” He waves his hand at you shooing you off.

How dare he! Just because he’s vice president he can treat you like a bug. It’s not your fault for not knowing his preference. Now that you think about it you still didn’t ask, but you’re too scared to go back in and make his mood worse. Maybe he likes his coffee black?

You place a black coffee down on his desk, biting your lip in anticipation as he takes a sip.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He glares at you, his eyes stern.

You frown, “I thought that you would like black coffee if you didn’t like anything sweet.”

“Second mistake, you thought.” He rolls his eyes. “Go do it again.” He waves his hand.

You huff, crossing your arms. “What kind.” You’re not leaving this room without an order.

Baekhyun’s lips curl up in a smirk. “You understand now. Americano, make it quick.”

You return with his stupid cup of straight up tar and you slam it down on his desk. “Drink up buttercup.” You thought, he wouldn’t know you spit in it right? You laugh as he takes a sip and hums contently.

You finish your milk and are munching on your scone as Baekhyun goes through his emails.

“What are you eating?” He stretches his arms over the desk to grab it from your hands. You protest with a ‘hey!’

He smells it and looks at you and down at the scone. He takes a bite and smiles.

“That’s really good. Why didn’t you get me one?” He’s taking giant bites and you’re sitting in disbelief that he literally took your food.

“Well for one you didn’t ask and two you don’t seem to like a lot of things.” You said glaring at him as he wolfs down the rest of the scone.

“I want one tomorrow.” He orders, you nod rolling your eyes. “Your attitude is really bad did you know that?” He comments.

“Really? I didn’t know. Most people call me an angel.” You cross your arms in front of you, he’s irking you with every passing minute.

“They’re wrong, you’re more of a brat than an angel.” He laughs licking his fingers, you catch his eyes and your face reddens. His stupid handsome face looking sexy like that! He’s the sinner.

The day carried on with Baekhyun giving you small tasks to complete, they were very boring things. Like copying papers, stacking papers, organizing papers. Papers, papers, papers. You couldn’t get enough of the word. It was time for lunch and now that you’re at the office you can remind your father to eat on time. You stand up from your seat, Baekhyun’s eyes are on you.

“Make sure to eat lunch, i’m going to see the president for a second.” You mumble embarrassed that you’re reminding him to eat as well, like some wife.

“Why are you going to the president?” He’s playing with a pen on his desk.

“To remind him to eat lunch.” You respond with your hand on the doorknob.

You hear the smile in his voice as he says “Alright, you’re dismissed.”

You knock on your fathers office door, and hear a quiet ‘come in.’ You enter with a smile, seeing your father smile back you close the door behind you.

“Hello sweetie, do you need something?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I’m here to remind you to eat your lunch. I made something last night for you so you wouldn’t miss it.” You lecture him with a finger pointed, it’s all playful fun.

You set his lunch on his desk and he thanks you saying he’ll eat it on his lunch break.

“So hows being Mr. Byun’s assistant going? I’m assuming no complaints?” He asks folding his hands.

You blow out a huff of air, “I have a few.” You mumble.

“What was that?”

“Nothing father..” Your cheeks redden.

“I saw how you looked at him the other day. There’s no relationships in the office Y/n.” Your father says sternly.

Your eyes widen to the size of golf balls, you can’t believe your own fathers words.

“Daddy it’s not like that! I-I wouldn’t so that with him.” Your face is getting more red by the second.

“Am I making myself clear?” He says seriously.

“Yes father.” You leave the room and try to calm down, but your face is too red to disguise your feelings.

“Woah fire cracker, what’s going on?” Baekhyun passes you in the hallway. You want to yell at him scream at the top of your lungs that it’s because of him that your fathers lecturing you about hooking up with your superior.

“You’re the problem Byun!” You start, “My father was fucking giving me a lecture about not fucking my superior because he thinks I like you!” You yell at him, you’re lucky you’re in a part of the building where it’s empty. And no ones around to hear your embarrassing situation.

“You like me?” He’s taken back, a smile on his face.

“N-no you idiot.” Your stuttering doesn’t convince him.

“No?” Baekhyun grabs you and drags you into an empty room, he closes the door and slams you onto it.

“Listen here little girl. I won’t let you ruin my chance at this job, being the first vice president here is big news.” His tone is sharp, his grip on your arm is hard. “But when you tease me like this, giving up this job sounds tempting.” He leans in to whisper.

“So don’t tempt me, vixen.”

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #19)

(cw: vomiting, references to drugs) ----------

01/06/88   10:31 PM

Hey.

I’d thought that willingly bunking with Fix-it was weird. I had no idea.

You know pretty well my relationship to Wreck-it, but that’s not saying much. Anyone who sees us interacting basically knows the deal. There’s just not much more than the obvious. He’s huge, he’s dumb, and he’s got a temper shorter than a Nicelander’s arm, so, yeah, he’s my game’s resident prank and pestering dumping ground, fittingly enough. And, on the flipside, I’m small, I’m slick, I’m dang near impossible to catch when you’re that big and clumsy, and even when he does, and he throws me across the freakin’ map, I enjoy it. I’d wanna smash my face into the bricks, too, if I were him.

It felt a little close to insanity, then, thinking of welcoming myself to sleep on those bricks. I had basically nothing in my favor, other than the fact that we’ve never had a… y’know, serious fight, and very occasionally we’ll call a truce and rant about Fix-it over some root beers. Not much, but it had to count for something, right?

In any case, the arcade closed like any night. I was leaning back against my little lumpy brick knoll and idly plucking at my guitar by the time I heard those big elephant feet clomping on the bricks. I braced myself. Good or bad, it’d be uncomfortable.

“Alright, y’little guttersnipe, what did you leave me this time?”

He seemed to be talking more to himself than me. I guess he thought I’d left. Fair assumption -- why would I have stayed?

“Still here, trash gorilla.”

“What the--!?”

Stomp, stomp, stomp. He stood next to me, stance primed to smash if provoked. I didn’t bother looking up.

He barked, “You!”

“Me.”

“You wanna tell me what you’re doing in my home?”

He certainly didn’t sound happy, but I heard way more apprehension in his voice than anger. He obviously hadn’t forgotten what he’d seen on Niceland’s doorstep the night before. Remembering the look on his face just made me wish even more dearly that I had anywhere else to go. 

I paid more attention to my guitar than him, hoping he would give up prematurely. “No, not really.”

“Oh, well, in that case, sure, just hunker down and make yourself a little nest without even kind of asking me.”

“Wayyy ahead of ya.”

Buttons easily pressed, he growled, “You got until the count of five to tell me what you’re up to, before I bowl you right down into the river, got it?”

“Sure you can count that high, monkey man?”

“Y’know what, let’s make it THREE. One…”

I rubbed my forehead, sporting a vicious withdrawal headache. I’d been brainstorming all day on excuses to throw at him, but always came up short. How do I explain away willingly staying in a dump with Wreck-it?

“Two…”

I finally looked up at him, with the sharpest glare I had. “I had nowhere else to go, okay! Happy now?!”

Wreck-it wavered for a second, like I’d thrown a ball at his head. He squinted, suspicious. “Wait. What do you mean? You’ve got plenty of places to go! I mean, Felix would obviously love to put you up, and--” he slowed, bogged down with memory, “--well… I guess you… were kinda screaming and smashing stuff up there this morning, so... maybe you’re… still mad at him or… something…”

He scratched his head. “Okay, maybe not Felix. But you’ve got your own place. That forest still looks pretty intact to me, sister.”

I went back to staring at my guitar. “I can’t stay there right now.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

He went quiet for a minute. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fist relax a bit and rap gently against his leg. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit lower, but still reluctant.

He said, “You’re trouble, you know.”

“Thanks.”

“Everyone’s talkin’ like you’re big trouble. Like you could be dangerous.”

“What do you think?”

He paused. “...I’unno. I’m trying to stay out of it. It all sounds like a really… y’know, delicate matter, and... that’s not exactly my thing.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about a neutral party. Part of me grimaced at the inevitability of him taking the majority’s side eventually, and part of me felt… safer, I guess. Like this guy wanted to go on pretending everything would just work itself out if he ignored it, so he’d be less likely to get up in my business. I had a glimmer of hope that we could both pretend nothing was wrong, moving forward.

I fiddled with my guitar some more. “Well… that’s probably for the best, huh.”

“But,” he growled, “you’re making it real hard to stay out of it, coming here. I just know you’re gonna get me wrapped up in this stuff, somehow. I oughtta throw you out on your keister before you get the chance.”

Looking up at him again, I asked, “Are you going to?”

His brow furrowed and his lips pressed together. He looked me up and down contemplatively, lingering in odd places. I got the impression that he was remembering the sight of me torn to ribbons. And then his eyes plainly fell to my neck. Suddenly, he looked as if he’d just read the saddest sentence of his life. Up until that point, he hadn’t noticed that I was wearing things that had belonged to you, that much was clear.

I felt the way most sprites must feel when they’re seen naked. I wanted to bury myself under the bricks.

“Gnah,” he grunted and threw his hand. “Look, if we’re really doing this, we need to lay down some ground rules. And these are real rules, not cute little make-being-bad-more-fun-for-Mavis rules. Agreed?”

“But I love those. The second kind.”

“Agreed?”

“Yes,” I leaned my head back, “obviously agreed. List your terms.”

“Okay. Rule number one -- no screaming. Everything that happened this morning? Don’t do that.”

“Noted.”

“Rule number two -- no name-calling, and-- and no no no, you look at me, right here,” he snapped his massive fingers, “when I’m telling you these, okay? Remember these -- y’know what, go ahead and write these down, while we’re at it. Take notes. Never can tell with you what you’re gonna conveniently forget. Go on, get your book out.”

Could have been worse demands, but I was still literally sick and tired, and not in the mood. I just blew a raspberry at the sky.

“Mavis.”

I blew a harder raspberry.

“Gh, you little--” my entire bag smacked me in the face, and not gently. “Don’t test me, kid. Start writing or you’re outta here.”

With a mighty groan, I did what I was told, and took down greatly paraphrased notes as he continued.

“As I was saying, rule number two,” he started counting off his fingers, “no name calling. You can’t be in my home and call me ‘trash gorilla’ or ‘homo erectus’ all the time. Leave the mean names at the door. ...Y’know, the metaphorical door.”

I raised my hand. “Question.”

“What?”

“Can I get them all out now, so they don’t slip out later?”

“Wh-- No.”

“Dang.”

“Okay, rule number three -- this is a big one. I don’t wanna wake up with anything written on me, or painted on me, or in my shirt, or stuck to my hair, or shoved in my nose, and -- y’know what, let’s just go ahead and make that, ‘Leave Ralph alone while he’s sleeping.’ I don’t turn into a toy when I close my eyes, got it?”

“Fine.”

“Rule number four -- same as rule number three, but about my stump. The stump is off limits. Don’t even sit on it. It’s not there for you.”

“Weird, but okay.”

“Rule number five -- whatever drama belongs in there,” he pointed at Niceland, “does not belong here. Okay? Don’t chuck bricks at windows or antagonize the Nicelanders or scream at Felix, none of that. They see you doing that from here, while I’m around, they’ll think I’m with you on it, you know? They’re all already not big fans of me, so don’t make that any worse.”

“Sure.”

“Uh, rule number six -- anyone throws garbage in here with food in it, that’s mine. You go get your own food.”

“Sheesh, gimme some credit. I got some standards on what kind of garbage I put in my body.”

He glared. “Just stay away from mine, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I wrote it down.

“Number seven… you know, just don’t steal anything in general, food or otherwise. No sticky fingers.”

“What the cuss is there to steal, numbnuts? There’s nothing here but bricks and broken structures, and like, maybe a pie tin or two--”

“Ap, ap, ap!” He pointed at me. “Numbnuts? That’s name calling!”

Rule number two was gonna be harder than I thought. There are just too many names to call him, and you know I hate to waste names. “Okay, okay. Paws off, I get it. Anything else, highness?”

Wreck-it squinted at me, and I wondered if he was trying to decide if ‘highness’ counted as name calling. Apparently, it didn’t. But then he started looking around the expanse of bricks, obviously trying to think like me, and find any opportunities for mischief. 

“Number eight,” he continued, “don’t, uh… paint any of my bricks.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“...Why?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because I said so?”

“Okay, you’re really reaching, now, Wreck-it. I think you’re just about out of rules. You’ve also only got two fingers left to go,” I pointed at his eight counted fingers. “Which is, coincidentally, what she said.”

His face screwed up. “Eugh, Devs, okay, y’know what? Rule number nine -- no dirty jokes.”

“Seriously? You’re fine with Tapper’s dirty jokes!”

“Yeah, ‘cus his are nowhere near as dirty as yours! It’s GROSS, Mavis! And, just, ugh,” he pushed his hair back, pointedly looking away, “hearing how much dirty stuff you actually know about just… gives me the willies.”

“That’s what she--” the strain was nearly physical. “You’re gonna make this very hard for me. That’s what-- Ugh,” I pinched my brow, “I’m making this very hard for-- That’s-- GAHH--!!”

I threw my hat.

“Watch it,” he warned me. “Remember rule number one!”

“How can you be so squeamish!? You live and breathe GARBAGE!”

“NO DIRTY JOKES!” He pointed at me like I was a dog, continuing the trend of my cabinet-mates treating me like an animal. “THAT’S FINAL!”

“FINE! GEEZ! I’ll keep it suitable for all ages, including nine-foot-tall babies--”

“That’s name calling!”

I broke rule number one. But, to be fair, it was more of a furious shout to the stars than a scream. 

“FOR THE LOVE OF LITWAK, WHAT’S RULE NUMBER TEN!?”

“EASY, kid! This is the last one, so listen up! Rule number ten…” he had his hands on his hips, assessing me in an odd way. He was silent just a moment longer than I’d have liked, but when he spoke again, his tone was much more serious.

“Look,” he said, “I dunno what you’ve got on you, or got back in your little hideout, but I don’t want you bringing any booze or buffs here. I can’t control what you do out there, but while you’re on my bricks… you’re sober. Got it?”

I wanted to say no. My first instinct was to call it all off. The withdrawal was only flooding higher above my head with every passing hour, and the thought of being denied my release stirred up defiance in me that bordered on violent. He had no idea how useful buffs were to me. He had no idea how painfully and desperately I wanted one, just one.

But after that split-second passed, I realized there was no use getting upset. It wasn’t like I had any booze or buffs or even the capacity to get any. That would involve leaving the game, which… I wasn’t ready to think about. Besides, like I said before, the withdrawal really, really sucked. But I recognized it for what it was, and knew it would pass on its own. Hardly my first rodeo. 

The verbal reminder of how badly I wanted a buff, however, really brought back the emphasis on how bad the withdrawals were getting. Chills hit me like, well, a ton of bricks. My stomach churned and I made a grab for the bucket I’d brought with me.

“Okay,” I nodded, breathing heavy into the bucket. “Sober. Got it.”

For a second, Wreck-it seemed a mix of confused and concerned. “Are you--”

I retched. Hard.

“GEEZ LOUISE!!” His voice went way higher than natural, and I heard his feet stamp away behind me as he cried out to the Devs. Nine-foot-tall baby. From the other side of his stump, he called, “You didn’t tell me you were sick!”

“Didn’t come up ‘til now,” I didn’t have the strength to appreciate my own accidental joke. I called back, mostly into the bucket, “Don’t freak out, I don’t have a virus or anything. And don’t you dare try to make a rule about this, ‘cuz believe it or not, I ain’t doing this for fun.”

“I know that,” I could hear the eye-roll. “I’m not stupid. It just would have been nice to know what I was in for before I decided to let you stay here.”

“Well,” I was panting by that point, and the sweat was making a real comeback, “now you know. Your guest is sick. But she’ll get over it in a few days, and she’s gotten real good at silent puking.”

“...A few days, huh.”

The pounding of his fists against the brick scared the bits out of me -- just a thing he does before settling down, like a dog turning in a circle. After I heard him lie down, he asked in a tired, but not quite annoyed tone, “So… just how long are you assuming I’ll put up with you?”

I spat. “I… can’t say right now, I don’t think. But I don’t like this any more than you do. It won’t go on a second longer than it has to.”

He grunted. “If you say so, I guess.”

The conversation ended there, for a bit. I spent a while teetering right on the edge of puking, until I backed away from that edge enough to head to the river and rinse out the bucket. Since I’d started shaking so bad, climbing back up the bricks took way longer than it should have. It made me miss flying so much. Everything did.

Once I got back, I did my absolute best to arrange my nest of pillows in a comfortable way, but you can only do so much on a pile of bricks. I could feel their corners jabbing up at me no matter what. All the same, I settled in. 

After maybe ten minutes, I said, “Hey, Wreck-it.”

He grunted again.

“I’ve got some rules, too.”

“No you don’t. This is a favor I’m doing for you, in my home. You don’t get to make rules.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “Do I get to make polite requests?”

“I dunno. Are they ‘for-real’ polite or ‘Mavis’ polite?”

“For-real.” I paused. “I think.”

“...Seems unlikely. But, I’m listening.”

“Request number one -- don’t talk to anyone about me being here.”

He hummed. “Easy enough.”

“Request number two -- don’t ask me about what happened last night. About how I ended up on that doorstep. I know you’ve been thinking about it. But I’m not going to talk about it, so don’t ask. Don’t ask anything.”

“Woah, okay, okay. I wasn’t… going to. I won’t. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Don’t try to talk to me about…” my sentence derailed. I didn’t want to say your name out loud again. Felt like it would hit me too hard. “...about the 7th.”

He was silent for a long time.

“That’s fine with me.”

“...Good.” I felt just about ready to delete from exhaustion, but had the distinct feeling that sleeping would be near impossible. I was just pulling up my blanket when Wreck-it piped up again.

“Rule number eleven--”

“No. No, you’re done with those. You can’t count on your toes, now.”

“Last one, for real this time,” he insisted. “Rule number eleven -- just… just keep your dang clothes on, will ya?”

I didn’t laugh.

It was a bizarre feeling. I knew it was funny, but my sense of humor felt like wet firewood. That little spark of laughter just wouldn’t catch.

“I’ll try,” I answered, “but I still plan on bathing.”

He grumbled, but made no further comment. That was it for the night. We went about our personal businesses of trying to sleep through the wrongness of it all. It took him a bit longer than I thought it would, probably because he wanted to sleep with one eye open, but eventually, his trumpeting snores started. They’ve never really bothered me before, but getting them point-blank is really an experience. Needless to say, they were far from a lullaby. 

Not that anything resembling a lullaby would have helped. The sleeping conditions there were even worse than Niceland. Trying to sleep out in the wide open is just unnerving to me. My little nest faced away from the entirety of the map, and the dump doesn’t extend into another forest at its far end. It just fades away into blackness, farther than we’re programmed to roam. The air is cold outside of tree cover, and the bricks even more so, but nothing felt colder than that sight.

You sure can see the stars from there, though. But, of course, it was one of those nights where that’s a bad thing.

On a good day, the stars make me think there are good things even in the darkest places. The black sky here looks like it could stretch on forever, like if you flipped our game upside down, we would all fall into it and never see light again. That really freaked me out for a long time, when I first surfaced. But the more I looked at the stars and how pretty they are, the more I thought, if the sky really did go on forever, then there could be even more beautiful things out there. Including a place better than this.

But I can’t get there. That’s the bad part. Sometimes, all the stars do is make me feel trapped. The place I really belong could be out there, but I’m just stuck in a glass box I can’t break.

Feeling tiny and alone beneath that both confining and possibly endless sky, I found myself inevitably thinking of you again. I didn’t have a couch to fool myself with anymore, or any walls to imagine closing in tighter, but… I did have your scarf.

It reeked of memories. Not of events, but emotions. Smelling it felt like inhaling pure, raw panic. It made my head spin and really aggravated my nausea, but, for reasons I didn’t quite understand, I just couldn’t put it down. I knew it was keeping me up, but I didn’t care.

As I lay there awake, feverish as hell, smelling a mix of smoke and gasoline that was so distinctly you, staring up at the stars, I just couldn’t stop thinking… did you do what I never could, and find a way to get past them?

If you did, where did you go?

If you did, how could I ever hope to find you?

If you did, why the hell did you leave me here alone?