#inspired by that one fic umm I don’t know which one. sorry

[tunascribbles]

Something something HAZMAT AU

[blogfullofemos]

For Research Only Purposes

Inspired by @oharahive Miguel and Sweet Girl fics, I have too written a little excerpt for it. If you want to know, read Frustration and the rest after. Thankyou @oharahive for your beautiful contributions to my horehouse of a mind.

18+ READERS, NSFW

Warnings: size kink, a pass out, oral receiving f&m, mention of manhandling, overwhelm from sexual act, um Miguel going beast mode I guessss. We go by consent always in my realm. OH, and also squirting (I is so sorry.🙃)

Word Count: 2,874 😅

Pairing: Miguel O' Hara + female reader

       Miguel stood in front of his panel assessing the latest serum Lyla was helping him construct before his watch beeped with a video call. He adjusts his glasses as he brings his wrist up to see who’s calling, noticing your name. “Lyla, we’ll catch up on this later.” He informs her as he walks away from the panel. He picks up your call after the 6th ring, to be greeted by your beauty. “Hey.” you say shyly.

“Hi.” He says sitting on one of his many swivel chairs. He wonders where you are by the way your body language seems more reserved, as your reminded that Miguel needs glasses to see up close when researching. The many years of him straining his eyes on a screen finally catching up to him. Both of you not realizing the awkward silence building within the call, “Is everything okay?” Miguel finally asks, prepared to come help if need be. You bite your bottom lip slightly as you smile nervously, “I’m totally fine Miguel.” you say, trying to build up the confidence of why you called. “Umm.” you start out looking away from the video call to distract the intent look on Miguel’s face. “Can I come over tonight?” you ask with a slight cringe of embarrassment? Desperation? You couldn’t tell. But you watch as a smirk slowly appears on Miguel’s lips, “Okay.” he simply answers, knowing what you were suggesting. It’s been a few days since the last time you spent the night at his place, which consisted of you crying out his name as he ate you out like his life depended on it. His sweet girl clawing and kneading his skin to find some grounding throughout the pleasure full ordeal. You cleared your throat to break the awkward silence once again “I, uhh..” you drawl as your cheeks redden with what you were about to say, “I want to.” you say but stop yourself by biting the side of your cheek. Miguel couldn’t help but smile at your shy approach, “Why don’t you tell me later. When we’re both secluded.” he concludes, easing your anxious nerves.

“Yeah. Well I’ll see you later Miggy.” you say, ending the call before he could say his goodbye. His eyebrow quirking up as he just caught on to the new nickname you’ve given him. Unsure if he likes it or not. He doesn’t.

       It hit midnight as you entered his apartment using his open window, greeted with the sight of him resting on his couch in nothing but grey sweats. He couldn’t see you well as the full moonlight given your body a silhouette, your petite curvy frame exacerbated by some transparent dress you wore. Just that mere sight of you awakening the incessant need for you within Miguel. You walk closer into view for him, showing a silk blush pink nightgown that stopped just at the start of your luscious thighs. The material leaving nothing to the imagination as your pierced nipples budded under the fabric, it must’ve been cold tonight. Miguel couldn’t help but place his hand on his crotch by the sight of you, his cock at half mass as he gave it a squeeze to ease its speeding build up. He chuckled as he looked at your feet, you wore matching slips that had tiny bunny faces at the top. His sweet girl can be just too cute at times. He adjusted himself, so that he could rest his back on the armrest, opening his legs to make room for you. “C’mere bebita.” he beckoned with a gravel to his voice. Your walls instinctually clenched as you never heard his voice like that before, your wetness slowly coming to. You seductively follow to his call, placing your knee on the couch cushion to crawl over his broad body. Hearing his breath catch into his throat certifying your little act was working wonders for him. You were now above him, with your knees on each side of his hip as you rest a hand on his shoulder. The other in his ruffled curls, “Missed you.” you whisper breathlessly.

     He gives you a peck on the lips before saying, “It’s only been a few days (Y/N).”.

“A few too many.” you quip as you take his lips to yours. The kisses were light and short as you were more focused on the feel of his soft hair wisping between your fingers, “Can’t. Help. But. Wonder. If. Any. Spider. Saw. You. Like. This. Tonight.” he says between kisses, expressing the thought that was causing a little bit of possessiveness to broil up within him. You couldn’t help but giggle making you deepen the kiss more as you learn more about the man before you. Miguel places a hand on your side as the other rests on the nape of your neck, massaging the area a little earning a quiet moan to leave your lips. You nip at his bottom lip and give a little lick causing him to grunt at the sensation and squeeze your side, as your tongue entered his mouth. Miguel was fully hard after that little assertion you gave; it was a first and God did it want to make him take control of the situation. But he knew you were still loosening to him, that you needed to take the reigns when it came to this. He twirled his tongue with yours and sucked on the muscle making your hand grip his hair from the suggestive sensation. You break the heated make out session to catch your breath, never breaking the closeness between you two. “Remember earlier.” you bring up as you even out your breath. He nods as he pecks your lips once more, sliding his hand from your side lower to your butt. He inhales sharply as he realizes your nightgown barely covered your backside in this position, even if he tried to make it. His cock bouncing eagerly to feel you against him. “Miguel, I want to suck your cock.” you admit finally with a seductive tone.

      God, Miguel is going to be in trouble if you keep talking like that. His cock spurting precum out his swollen tip, as he gulps audibly. Before he could accept your offer you hungrily take his lips with yours and start to tongue kiss again. This time Miguel becoming much more vocal and needy with his hands. He brings your nightgown up just enough to fully expose your bare bottom, as he peaks over you to see you didn’t wear anything under once again. His sweet girl not really as innocent as she seems, and fuck did he want to flip you over and bury himself in your warmth. He squeezes your ass cheek making you break the kiss to place your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, hissing from the pinch as you grip his hair once again. You close the distance between you two as you finally grind against him, making his head fall back. Maybe you like a little pain to your pleasure, Miguel thought as you kept a slow pace against him after. “(Y/N).” he gasps as he felt you bite the side of his neck before suckling on the now sensitive area. The hand that was on the nape of your neck now within your hair, you placing the hand that was on his shoulder now on the other side of his neck, guiding him to bare his neck more with your thumb. Miguel thrust against you as you marked his skin, confused by the action as he couldn’t do the same to you but the sound of your sucking drowning out any possibility of a coherent thought. You pushed yourself up as you used Miguel’s chest to anchor you, you quicken your undulation as you felt a wave course through your body. “Miguel.” You say quietly as you toss your head back, reveling in the sensation of your clit rubbing against his covered cock.

      He wasn’t going to last long at all if you kept this up, his cock leaking profusely as he felt your entrance wet the area. You look back at him with lazy lust blown eyes as he grips your waist to stop your movements fully, “I think its time to follow through on your plan, bebita.” He says reminding you of why you came in the first place, blushing.

“Oh yeah.” You softly say. You adjust yourself so that you’re face were between his legs, his big cock prominent under his sweats. Your walls clenching for it but you knew better than to let him in now, scared of the stretch. “Oh wait.” You say as you brought yourself up to take off your nightgown, exposing your perky pierced nipples with a dangly spider pendant. You catch as Miguel’s cock springs up under his sweats, making the wet patch bigger near his tip. “Fuck.” Miguel says as you go back into position. You hook your fingers to the waistband and bring his sweats down, till his cock swings back up to rest on his lower abdomen. This time you went straight for it as you licked from the base all the way up to the tip, seeing his eyes flash with red as they crossed before he dropped his head back again. You suck his tip into your mouth and suckle as you flick your tongue at the slit, making him slap his hands on whatever he could find purchase on the couch. “Ease!! Easy bebita!!” he says breathless, shooting his head back to look at you. You take his cock out with a pop as he juts his hips up after, smirking at his body’s need for you. You take his cock in your hand and wrap your fingers around it, unable to fully encircle his girth. As you slowly start to pump his cock, you couldn’t help but rub your clit at the sight. Miguel’s toes curling as he watches you play with yourself in front of him, you hum with satisfaction before taking his cock in your mouth once again. This time lowering even more than before, sucking all the way back up. You feel his hand rest at the back of your head. “Can you take more?” he asks with urgency as you look up at him, with his cock still in your mouth. 

     You nod, but Miguel bit his bottom lip needing more confirmation. He gently tugs your hair, letting you know to take him out of your mouth. You do and pout, “Miguel.” you say.

“You know how lost I can get when I’m close, are you sure you want to do this?” he pushes, concern furrowed between his brows. You blush as you look away from him, “I did some research on how to handle this.” You inform him making his mind explode with what you possibly do in your free time. His sweet girl definitely not as innocent as she seems, but fuck was it hot. “It doesn’t hurt to try.” you admit with puppy dog eyes, and that was enough confirmation he needed. “Give me a kiss.” He says and you do. A rather hungry kiss between the both of you before going back into position. “Okay I’m going to place my hands in your hair, and if it gets too much please let me know. Pinch me, scratch me, whatever you do, let me know.” He says seriously.

“Okay.” You answer. You put his tip back into your mouth and suckle it with more energy, making him buck up. You gag as his cock brushes the back of your throat as his hips fall back down on the couch, “Fuck bebita, m’sorry.” He apologizes through clenched teeth. But quickly realizes your hand working on your clit faster, as you also bring your mouth back down his length. “Fuck.” He sighs as he rests his head on the armrest, this time guiding you up and down his cock. Just enough to not have you gagging, but close enough to it at times. You moan as a wave of pleasure washes over you as you assess the man before you. The way he moans your name as his adams apple bobs with every noise he makes, the way his chest flex from his arms working your head on him, his abs tensing and untensing with every breath. Your legs start to tremble as your orgasm inches nearer, your noises becoming louder. Miguel brings himself to look at you as his stomach goes in knots, “Keep your eyes on me bebita. Just. Like. That.” He pronounces fucking into your mouth faster.

        This time you start to gag after every bob, excessive saliva mixed with precum seeping out the sides of your mouth and coating your chin. “You look so good like this, doing such a good job for me.” He encourages you as he sees your eyes watering up. You were so close and hearing his words were making it that much more closer. He could tell by the way your thighs and ass jiggled as your noises became more languid. Suddenly his thrust became sloppier as he pushed your head even closer to his pelvis, your gagging coming out even harsher. He held you down for a little before pulling you off with a pop, spurts of his cum falling onto your face as grunts of your name fell out his mouth like a chant. Fuck, was that hot. As he finally slows down jerking his spend onto your face, in no time at all he manhandles you so that your back rest on the cushion as he went between your legs. “MIGUEL!” you cry out as he sucks your swollen clit into his mouth, with a rumbling moan. You couldn’t help but grip his head and grind against his mouth, your legs almost locking him in but he used his strength to stop it. You look down at him with tears flowing freely as his cum still rested on your face, Miguel’s eyes turning red at the sight. Hungrily he lapped at your entrance, making you rock to the vicious rhythm, suckling your clit once more. “Ohh.. Mig-Miguel.” You gasp as your orgasm rips through you with a sudden jolt. A silent scream leaves you as Miguel tongues into you and slurps your juices loudly with an affirmative moan. “Just like that bebita. Keep going.” He says, rubbing his palm against your clit with a ferocious speed. You arch your back as you become overwhelmed with a heightened climax you never felt before, gripping the armrest above you as you cry out. With another stolen gasp, you squirt on his palm, splashing your juices onto him and yourself. Your body slumps as you finish, “(Y/N)?” Miguel says as he stops his movements, his eyes returning back to their normal color.

        “Fuck.” He says as realization hit him that you passed out from his service. He climbs on top of you and brushes your hair away from your face. He kisses your cheek, gently chanting your name to pull you back to him, as he lowers his lips to your neck. Because if you could, he could too. It’s only fair right? He bites the area before sucking a bruise to it. You wake with a shaky start, gripping your hands to his back as a trembling cry leaves you. Your nerves were on fire and your mind muddled, “I’m so sorry bebita. I overdid it.” He apologizes pulling your head into the crook of his neck. He flips you over so that he could embrace you, giving you comforting kisses and apologies till your nerves calmed just enough. You weren’t mad at him at all, you were honestly blissed out but you knew he wouldn’t be fine without admitting he did too much. You sigh as you sleepily look up at him, “You okay?” he asks, brushing his hand through your hair. You just nod, too spent to do much else. He smiles, “Good. I’m going to get something to clean you up okay.” He says helping you slide off of him as he got off the couch. You watch his ass walk away as far as you could see, amazed at the many perks he’s been bestowed in this life. You close your eyes as sleep quickly tries to take a hold of you, before feeling something wet glide against your face. You open your eyes to see Miguel lovingly smile at you, “Go back to sleep bebita, you deserve it.” He says kissing your cheek. And with that you close your eyes once more as sleep took hold of you, Miguel making sure you were completely clean of the mess you both made tonight. He looks at his window to notice the sky turning lighter by the minute, you definitely not fit to do any missions today even if it were to be an anomaly. He looks at you once more after cleaning himself, brushing his thumb across the mark he left on your neck. A strong sense of pride forming within him as he picks you up off the couch and towards his bedroom, so you could sleep comfortably.

[frenchiefitzhere]

I want… I want to know… all of them. All of the answers from the ask game.

what a greedy little asker you are!! /pos

🤦🏻 A fanfiction/chapter you are embarrassed about having written?

Oh, well, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be anonymous, now would it? /hj But there are definitely a few I don’t feel totally comfortable having out there with my name attached. And yes, they’re spicy. And nearly all of them involve a certain academy president.

💔 Least favorite ship you have written about?

(Oh, I’m gonna get shit for this, and let me tell you how much I care: zero.) I’ve only written one piece that was really for Vincent/Lovely, and I’m not gonna get into why Vincent is not my favorite. But he’s just not. And the piece had less to do with them and more to do with what was going on with me at the time, and it’s really more about Lovely’s turning.

❤️‍🔥 Favorite ship you have written about?

*does a little dance* Obviously: Marie and Colm Greer. I love them (in case you couldn’t tell by the 81K words). I proudly gave them their backstory. And I am downright fucking GLEEFUL over that shit.

📃 Ever written something inspired by someone elses fic?

Why yes! My song “By the Lights” was directly inspired by @teafairywithabook’s fic “Feels Like Home”

⛰ Hardest fic to write?

The current one about Imperium James.

✏️ The first fanfiction you ever wrote? (doesn’t have to be a posted fic)

I’m not sure which came first, but back in the 1900s /PeePaw voice…

I probably wrote at least a dozen Lois & Clark and Gargoyles fics. I’d share them but they’re a) handwritten and b) unfinished.

💻 The first fanfiction you posted?

Tabula Rasa (Imperium!Damien/Angel). Because what happened immediately after that first Imp!Damien video?

🎧 A certain song you listened to while writing a fic?

I have a few playlists, all instrumental.

For Caelum and other fluffy content

For Colm and Marie (instrumental covers of 80s classics)

For baddies 

🔬The fic you had to make the most research for?

@ejunkiet and I really dug deep to make sure “An Honest Man Like Yourself” (Milo & Colm) fit the canon timeline and fit it with everything in “Cannoli Canon”

🔥 Hottest fic you ever written?

Oh, I took it down from AO3. But it was a weekend in the country with President Moore and his trusted self-insert. I mean, his trusted assistant.👀 (I still read it sometimes. It’s for me, honestly.)

👽 Strangest fic you ever written?

New Kindred. I always wanted to go back and develop this storyline more but the characters seemed like they wanted to belong to their own universe and not really be in a fic. And it’s the only time I wrote a song to go with a fic

👀 What’s an idea you had for a fic that you never did anything with?

I want to write a Sandman + Redacted Elliot or Blake crossover sooooooo bad.

✍🏽 How much do you plan your fics beforehand?

Lol. I wish. Usually they happen very organically. In fact, I often start without any idea where they’re going.

😚 A fic you liked writing more than other fics?

It’s my not-so-secret cult favorite: An Unsettling Settlement (Imperium Adam & Imperium Lasko.) 👌🏻 The fic that took the fastest to write?

If we count them as fics (and I do), then most of the voicemails and phone calls I do as Marie happen in 10 minutes or less. I essentially ad-lib them and then just edit slightly. 

🌈 Your favorite tropes to write about?

Character backstories. I love filling in the blanks within canon.

Childhood/school sweethearts is my favorite romantic trope.

📬 The best comment you ever received?

Umm…I will collectively say that any time y’all are like “FRENCHIE IS MARIE IT’S BASICALLY CANON” and the like… I’m not gonna lie: I screenshot all of those and keep them in a special smile file.

🔪 The fic/chapter that hurt the most to write?

The final chapter of the Cannoli fic (Sorry Marie! Sorry Milo! )

💾 The longest fic you have written (either with most chapters or most words)

“Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli” (32053 words). My opus to Milo’s parents.

I also may have Imperium Sofia’s backstory written. Good luck, Investigator. 

🏚 A fic you more or less abandoned?

I have two, but one I might actually finish. “Bye Bye Blackbird” which is a “through the looking glass”/crossover thing with Canon!James in the Imperium. Unfortunately, I’m not sure I know where to go with that one post-Cataclysm. The other is where Imperium!Lasko decides to get turned into a vampire. That one actually still works…maybe even better given the ending of Cataclysm, but I’d have to go back and change some things.

😅 Was there a fic/chapter that you were nervous about posting? Why?

I’m always nervous about posting anything even remotely spicy because even though I’m a whole-ass adult, I’m also a professional person with a job and stuff so I’m always paranoid about being discovered.

📺 Any references to other media that you put in your fics?

I will always and forever enjoy the way Marie compares Colm to George McFly after their meet-cute.

🥚 Any easter eggs you put in a fic that you hoped people would notice?

For “An Honest Man Like Yourself”, @ejunkiet and I decided Colm Greer's title at DUMP is “Deputy Investigation Commissioner for Central Services:

Also, several of the Marie/Colm fics (not just the first one) have lines from The Godfather as a title. (I guess that counts as an easter egg and a media reference!)

😮 Anything you included in your fic that you didn’t expect people to like?

Seriously, Marci. My very first OC in my very first fic. She was really only there to usher people into Imperium!Lasko’s office, but now she has like a whole arc with him. They banter. They…do other things together. Also, I liked her so much that she also exists in the canon universe. I wrote a very fluffy one for that: “Welcome to Doughlia”.

🏳️‍🌈 Do you write the most m/f ships, f/f ships or m/m ships?

I try to mix it up. For the Redacted listener characters, I never write them gendered, regardless of how I conceptualize them.

🌾 A fic you really want to write but you haven’t (yet)?

Since I kind of count my songs as fics, I’m gonna say: a song for Morgan. I love Morgan, and obviously he doesn’t have a ton of content. And content is the hardest thing to work out when I’m doing any song. (Characters can’t just sing: they have to sing for something and/or about something.)

😊 The fic that you’re the most proud of?

I actually think it’s my anonymous posted Imperium!Sofia one. It focuses on political intrigue, which is not a genre I read much of, let alone writing it, so the fact that I came up with something that I actually think is entertaining and builds the suspense while also answering some questions, I was very happy with that.

🪡 The scene you worked the hardest on in any fic?

The final scene of “An Honest Man Like Yourself”.  Wanted that bridging experience to be juuuuuust right. 

🎡 Your favorite scene to write in -insert fic-?

I love WhiteKnight!Colm. I love him. So I love the first chapters of “Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli”  and “Rosie”. They are very dear to me.

💩 The scene you hated to write the most in -insert fic-?

Let’s just say the comparative study between why Michael is a schmuck and a loser and Angel’s 1000x better off with Davey  was based on real life, so me writing that Michael scene out was really more like me writing in a diary and that was… at least it was cathartic…

🪜 Tell us a random fact about any fic!

Even when I’m writing a traditional, prose fic, if it has Marie in it, I usually start brainstorming by ad-libbing into a voice memo. :) 

🎨 Show us a sneak peek from a WIP! “What do you think, Prince Firecracker? You’re the expert,” Collins laughed bitterly. “He smell like flames to you?”

[asirensrage]

for the behind the scenes questions: 8, 10, 18, 25 (there’s a heaven above you), and 30?

Raith! I'm always happy to see you pop up into my ask box. Thanks for asking!

8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

Absolutely! I always listen to music and usually have playlists for each of my fics that I listen to when I write. Umm...the last song I was inspired by was Palace by Dessa but it was for this gif set lol. Though, Unholy by Sam Smith was in my head when I was doing smut drabbles earlier today.

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

Dialogue and plot! I love building up the scenes, especially when things are getting good. I like trying to get readers to react lol.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

“I’m not a kid!” “You look like one,” he shot back.  “What am I even going to tell them?” I sat up quickly and glared at him. “That I’m a grown ass woman who earned adult privileges by being an actual adult walking around in a Tammy suit? And that when they treat me like a kid, when they look at me and see her and not me, it makes me feel insane! Like I’m small and breathless and not actually here. How about that Hopper? How’s that sound?” I hissed, trying to not lash out. My hands were shaking. “I’m putting in all this effort every single fucking day for someone else’s life! I might never go back to my own! Or I could wake up there tomorrow and this was all for nothing! I could have ruined this girl’s life!” I suddenly burst into tears. I couldn’t stop myself. I bent over, trying to stop, to just calm down so they couldn’t hear me. It just made it all worse. Something deep in my chest ached at the reminder that I was stuck here and I wasn’t me.  Hopper’s arm went around me, pulling me into his side. “I know ki-Kate. I’m sorry.” He patted my back a couple times and I let out a broken laugh at the attempt. None of this felt worth it right now. “I try…I try so hard,” I said, wiping the tears off of my face even as they kept falling. “It doesn’t fix anything that matters. Why doesn’t it matter?” I cried harder.  Hopper remained silent, but he didn’t move. He just sat there, hand awkwardly on my back until he pulled it away. “It does,” he finally said. “Might not see it now, but it does.” “It doesn’t feel like it.” “I know, but you matter. The little things you do add up Kate and before long, you can see the impact it has on the people around you. Or sometimes you never find out how much something you did or said meant to someone. That’s life. You just gotta live it as best you can, no matter what comes your way.” He paused for a moment. “But I admit, body swap is pretty weird. Don’t suppose there’s any set of directions on how to do that right, but you do a good job, even if nobody tells you. You’ve done right by Tammy, her parents, her classmates and everyone else you stick up for and make friends with.”

This is from Tammy Thompson Takes on the Upside Down. I enjoyed writing this scene because it really gives insight into Kate and the pressure she feels playing Tammy. I wanted to show her how other people are seeing her and I think what Hopper says here is really important for anyone tbh. The little things you do add up and sometimes you can see the impact you have on others, sometimes you can't but that doesn't mean it isn't there.

25. Which idea came to you first in there's a heaven above you (Don't you cry)?

Honestly? It was the idea of time travel without control. I liked the idea that it happens without warning and you have no say where you go or when. Also the idea of waking up on a beach sounds awful and I couldn't resist.

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

Oh god. Every fic idea has turns into a long fic. Okay, it's not new because I've talked about it, but Reality is Fictional is a cooperative fic between me and the readers about travelling the multiverse and the impact it has on someone (as well as playing with the mary-sue trope). It'll be a lot of fun...once I get to it lol.

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

[little-lee-froggie]

I am healing you!

Yay, I’m here again! This is the third fic I’ve posted, so I hope you like it! This is another DSMP one, so sorry if that isn’t a fandom you’re in! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that kind of stuff, don’t read this :) Also!! This fic was inspired by another creator on here, but I can’t remember their name. If I find it, I’ll put it here:

If you happen to know who it is, please tell me, cuz this story would not exist if I hadn’t been inspired by them! So, without further ado, here’s the story:

warnings: tickling, and a little bit of swearing, but I think that’s it (if I’m missing any warning’s, please let me know)

Ler: Dream XD

Lee: reader

____________________________________________

You had a more adventurous mood today, and wanted to go exploring far out into the wilderness. You went to Phil and asked him if you could pack food and stay out all day, to which he agreed, as long as you came back for a check in when he called you on the server chat, so you agreed! You thought it might be fun to find a stronghold and make it into a nice little base/greenhouse for pretty flowers and things needed for potions, so you asked Techno for some eye of ender, and he agreed after hearing your plans, giving you a compass to the house as well so you could make an underground tunnel to the house and also incase the second stronghold of the server was super far away.

You thanked Techno and said goodbye to him and Phil, and you were off!

You had been walking around for quite some time, and you were close to the stronghold, you could feel it, when you came across a person taller than Ranboo, who was the tallest person you knew. The person had a green cloak and a mask. They looked a bit like Dream, but they were to tall and had a different mask.

They looked at you, and used an ender pearl to get in front of you to make you stop. “What are you doing here? Why have you come so far out?” The person said very dominantly, scaring the young person in front of them for a minute.

“I-I’m looking for a stronghold to make a gathering centre for potions, dies and animal products” you said. The stranger seemed like they didn’t trust you at first, but after some more explaining on why you wanted to find it and how very few people on the server know that you exist, so having to far to gather for potions would be a danger if Phil had other things he needed to do.

They believed you, and were quite fascinated by how your life was lived, and you spoke to each other a lot, as they joined you on your search for the stronghold.

They were so interesting that you got so transfixed on the person to the point where you tripped over a tree root that you didn’t see was right in front of you, which resulted in a sprained ankle and a bruised knee, elbow and hip. Dream XD, as you learned the person was, who when you met them at first seemed intimating had shown that they are just trying to protect the server, and they quickly dove down to help you and gauge how bad your injuries were.

The sprained ankle was the worst, but you could both already see the bruises forming on your knee and elbow, and your ankle was swelling. “Do you want me to heel you?” they asked, their overlapping voice filled with worry.

“Y-you can do that??” you stuttered from both the sudden pain and cuz the show of care from an almost complete stranger made you a bit shy. “Of course I can, I am Dream XD, the god of this server after all :)” they said with a clear smile in their voice, but their face still hidden by a mask. “Umm.. if you don’t mind, sure” you said shyly but still had the small amount of trust in your voice that you had gained towards the god.

About thirty seconds latter, you had sat yourself down on a large stump of a tree and XD knelt down in front of you, putting their hand on your ankle. You flinched a bit at the sudden touch to your hurt ankle, but after awhile, it was done and even had a strange tingly feeling that normally came after Phil or Techno had tickled you.

You shivered at the feeling, trying not to giggle. They then started to heal your elbow and moved their hand in order to get to all the places and make sure to heal it properly. You expected it to hurt a bit, but that’s not what ended up happening. Instead of it hurting, it… Tickled.

You stiffened at the sudden feeling in an attempt to make it more bearable and not let out giggles that might let your new friend learn about your hyper-sensitive skin, but, to your dismay, they noticed your tense nerves.

“Sorry, does it hurt? I’m trying to be gentle, do you want me to be more so?” they asked with concern in their voice. You thought about it, knowing that if you said yes, it would tickle more and your cover would be blown by a giggle or squeal, then your done for, but if you say no, your nerves would stay tense and your elbow would heal more, making it 10 times better worse because the pain would be gone, and your found out anyway. You just decided to shrug and let fate decide… fate was a bitch. With in the time it took for you to decide, XD had continued to tickle- sorry, ‘heal’- your elbow. “Ok, well, your elbow is pretty much done, and you’re other bruise is way worse, so I’m going to do your knee now and be a bit more gentle” they said. ‘Well, SHIT’ you think.

You knew your knee was significantly more sensitive than your elbow (which wasn’t even a bad spot of yours, but for some reason, when XD was the one tickling it, your elbow was way worse. Probably because they’re a god….). To make matters worse, when they were in the process of moving their hand down to your knee, their hand accidentally hit your hurt hip, causing you to finch in pain.

“Is your hip hurt to?” They asked as they paused from your reaction. ‘Note to self: Don’t EVER leave jack SHIT up to fate, or you might risk the possibility of getting tickled by a god’ you thought as you stumbled on your words; “Umm, y-yes, but it only hurts when-when you touch it, I-I really don’t want to be an i-inconvenience… it’s fine, you don’t have to tic-heal it!!” you stutter out nervously.

“Oh, uhhh… o…k? It’s really not an inconvenience though” they said, clearly quite a bit worried about their new young friend, their overlapping voice filled with concern. After a few seconds of just looking at each other, XD moved their hand to your knee, even gentler than before. Just their hand on your knee was already slightly maddening, causing your muscles to tense up again.

Then they started the healing process of moving their hand in a way that made your already sensitive nerves even more sensitive. It had not even been a second, but you couldn’t take it… You let out a loud giggle-filled squeal, which quickly caught XD’s attention.

“Ohhhh, I get it now~”, their voice teasing with the obvious hit of a smirk hidden under their mask. “Ahahaha, nohohoho!!! XDhehehehe, stohohohop!!!” you say, clearly not meaning it. In all honesty, you absolutely loved being tickled and would often provoke Phil and Techno in order for them to tickle you. If we’re continuing to be honest, Phil and Techno would tickle you without being provoked.

“You know, healing takes quite awhile on the knee” they say, obviously not only trying just to heal you anymore. “You have to take awhile, really make sure that it’s alllllll fixed because your knees are very important, you see” they continued, disregarding your small shrieks of laughter.

“You put a lot of wait on them, so you really need to take your time and get EVERYWHERE, like the knee cap…” they say, moving their hand to the cap of your knee “the sides of your legs leading to the bottom of your knee…” they said, once again moving their hand to the place they had just spoken about “but the MOST IMPORTANT place to make sure you get to is the under knee” they said, moving their hand with their words as they spoke.

Your cute noises went from giggles to laughter, as one of your worst spots was being attacked. “HEHEHEHEYY!!! XDHEHEHEHE!!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!” “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have worned you! It might tickle a bit~…” they said as if they weren’t Murdering you.

After about ten minutes of the teasing, taunting and tickling, they eventually exclaimed “all done!” almost with excitement. You felt relief that it was over, but then again, you didn’t want it to stop…

You got up thinking that you were continuing on your search for the stronghold when their hand grabbed your arm, sitting you back down. “Oh, you must have misunderstood! I didn’t mean all done with the healing, I meant all done with your knee! Don’t think I forgot about your last injury~” they teased, lifting the hem of your shirt to reveal a bad bruise.

“That one’s going to take awhile, to” they said teasingly, but they were genuinely serious about that, it would take over ten minutes to fix.

“Heheh…” they laughed menacingly, and just when you were about to open your mouth to protest, their hand started to move around and around, tickling your hyper-sensitive hip. You screamed with laughter as you thrashed around on the seat-like stump, the god not letting go. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAXDHEHEHESTOHOHOHOPAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!”

You didn’t mean to say stop, you enjoyed it, plus it was helping a lot with the pain of the bruise slowly. After almost twenty minutes of XD attacking your hip, they eventually stopped and you both continued on your search for the stronghold, however, every so often, you would receive a few pokes on your side, just to remind you that XD knew your weakness, and you would never forget that.

Needless to say, you made a good friend that day!! :)

____________________________________________

That was the story! I hope you enjoyed! I remember these being a bit longer, but then again, I read really slowly, so sorry if it was to short. Once again, if you know who the creator is of the fic that this is based off of, please tell me, as I want to give credit where credit is due! Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you next time! Byeeeee!!

-Froggie :p

[tryingmydarndest]

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

[kylejsugarman]

wow i wasn't expecting so much kind feedback from that post :’) below the cut is the fic, “love will not break your heart”. PLEASE remember this was written five years ago and i wasn't expecting to fall back into moral orel but here tf we are ❤️ 

i. idolatry

"Who does that cloud look like?"

"Umm…" The brunette tilted her head pensively, tracing the arbitrary peaks and valleys of the cloud in question with a critical eye. Her expression of solemn concentration buckled under a luminescent smile as she finally identified the cloud's likeness. "It's Joshua! See the beard?"

"Oh, wow, you're right!" He pointed to an adjacent puff of condensation on the verge of dissipating under the snowy glare of winter sun. "And there's the city of Jericho!"

She giggled in agreement and rolled onto her side; verdant streaks of earth branded her baptism-white cheek. A strand of sandy hair had escaped her new red headband (he had nervously presented it to her and promptly melted at the sight of her grateful beam) and now unfurled down the length of her pearly face. He brushed it back into place, then blushed.

"Uh, sorry."

"It's okay, Orel," she said with an adoring laugh. His timid eyes--coppery pools into which one's best qualities were inevitably reflected--found her own, then flicked downwards in humility. Though she appreciated his respect for her, the reverence with which he treated her was slightly disquieting. There was something to worship in both of them, something she felt she failed to adequately express. "Orel?"

The eyes, lit dreamily by a refulgent sky. "Yes, Christina?"

She touched a hesitant hand to his face and waited for the momentary tension of his form to abate as he recognized the tenderness of the gesture. There was the inexorable flutter of panic in her gut, as if her father were crouched behind one of Inspiration Peak's many bushes waiting to snatch her and drag her back into the study, but she quashed it readily. Her love for Orel was stronger than her fear of her father and with its pristine power she could have demolished that study with a single fiery glance.

But Christina had always favored creation over destruction, so she leaned over and pressed a soft, pink kiss to Orel's mouth. She tried to whisper "Happy Valentine's Day" to establish her motive, but was immediately silenced as he braced himself up on an elbow and shyly reciprocated the kiss. He tasted like candy heart chalk and mint.

"I love you," he said after he had bashfully withdrawn his head.

The world was shiny and new, the clouds morphing cheerfully behind him into benevolent figures who would shelter the tender bloom of their love. And Christina Posabule reached up to frame Orel's face in her gentle hands and said "I love you too" for the first time.

.

.

ii. respect

"Ugh. I never did understand the appeal of French toast."

Dottie scrutinized the buffet offerings, her angelically-proportioned visage contorted into a rictus of disgust. Her plate was sparsely garnished with a serving of greens and a mimosa, which she had already taken a drag from. As she eyed the decadent bricks of syrup-drenched toast, Florence calmly forked an omelet onto her own plate and waited for Dottie to make a decision. The Valentine's Day brunch was rarely an extravagant affair, but there were certainly enough dishes to satisfy even Dottie's impossibly high culinary standards.

"I think French toast is wonderful," Florence said. She expected this remark to be met with a haughty sniff or snide comment, but Dottie abstained. She even summoned a mordant grin.

"Well. I suppose the French are the superior culture for a reason." The blonde delicately pronged a lone slice of French toast onto her plate, taking care to select the most lightly-sugared piece on display. "Alright, I'm done. Quick, before I change my mind."

Florence led Dottie back to their booth, which had been denoted by the placement of their respective pocketbooks on the table (Florence's sturdy handbag looking markedly haggard next to Dottie's designer clutch). The two women supped here together after church, a tradition that had been inaugurated shortly after the Reverend's Easter sermon. Dottie had apologized to Florence in a rare fit of humility and promised to stop berating her roommate for her figure; Florence, ever the victim, dutifully accepted her apology. However, Dottie had surprised her by making a noticeable effort to curb her cruel commentary and even started contributing to the community by taking on sewing projects. Her lovely dresses soon filled the closets of every woman in Moralton--including Florence's. The rather flattering candy-pink wrap dress that Florence was wearing now was Dottie's handiwork, a fact the blonde managed to work into every conservation.

"Darling, that dress is absolutely divine on you," Dottie said, lighting a cigarette.

"Yes, thank you." Florence smoothed down the collar and smiled at the sight of her freckled hands. A modest diamonded band adorned her ring finger.

Dottie noticed her admiring of the piece of jewelry; she pursed her polished lips expectantly. "I really think you should've sprung for something bigger."

"Oh, I think this is just lovely the way it is," Florence insisted. She elevated her hand in order to demonstrate the diamond's iridescence. A slant of noon light caught the mineral and fissured apart into chromatic prisms; diamonded specks twinkled across the laminated tabletop. It was a rather appropriate expression of Florence's own appearance, something the ring's buyer had obviously taken into consideration. "Aren't you happy with your ring?"

"Me? Why I'd rather die than have this ring taken off my finger." Dottie inspected the arrangement of jewels gracing her own finger, which were independently lustrous and set into an ingot of platinum. The colors matched the sheen of her blonde curls perfectly.

An inexorable smile pressed dimples into either of Florence's cheeks. "You really like it?"

Dottie flicked her cigarette ash into the table's decorative vase with an insouciant tap of her manicured finger. Her expression was characteristically enigmatic ("you can't let them think you're interested," she had lectured Florence as she practiced looking jaded in the mirror), but the favor with which she regarded the ring was unmistakable. Finally, she said "I love it" in an emphatically decisive voice tempered with genuine affection. An affection that Florence reciprocated with an echoing of the sentiment before cutting into her omelet and watching Dottie slice willingly into a piece of French toast.

.

.

iii. requited

"Um, anything else, Steph?"

The tattooed, pierced, and freshly dyed vision of beauty glanced up from her book, eyes lightly glazed from an hour of reading. She had salvaged a rather intriguing volume of essays about evolution from a seedy bookshop in Sinville and was determined to complete the tome before it could be snatched and tossed on the literary pyre. Forghetty's wasn't exactly the ideal location for intellectual pursuits, but Stephanie had abandoned the shop at the mere notion of Karl and Kim Latchkey requesting some disgustingly romantic apparel for the holiday and decided that she deserved  some discounted Valentine's vodka for soldiering through the week unscathed.

"Another vodka would be great."

Dolly smiled warmly. "Coming right up."

As the blonde scooped ice into a tumbler, Stephanie became suddenly and acutely aware of the candy-pink heart branding the small of Dolly's neck. Despite having stitched ink into countless arms and sides, she was shocked by the heart's symmetry. It was absolutely flawless.

"One vodka," Dolly said, sliding the glass across the condensation-varnished bar. Her fingers were impossibly long, slender--piano fingers. Stephanie could not fathom why these trivial details fascinated her so, but she was suddenly pressed to learn more about the daisy-pretty bartender who had dutifully refreshed her tumbler for the past hour. Starting with that immaculate tattoo.

"Thanks. Uh, Dolly? Where'd you get that ink on your neck?"

"Ink on my--?" She palpated her neck in befuddlement before remembering the previous night and giggling wanly. "Oh, it-it's just pen. My friends thought it would be funny if I actually got a tattoo, so they had the guy draw it on, but I… I chickened out, I guess."

"Oh."

"It's not that I don't want a tattoo," Dolly quickly amended, tipping Stephanie's colorful arms an appreciative nod. "I'm just kinda chicken about needles."

Stephanie quirked an amused eyebrow. "So you would get a tattoo?"

"Well." She sheepishly wrung a damp cloth out over the bar top and made a concentrated effort to appear occupied by the menial task. "Maybe."

"That heart's pretty cute. I think it would look nice back there."

Roses bloomed in Dolly's porcelain cheeks. Though her friends had never abstained from making passively nasty comments about Stephanie's unusual appearance and proud deviance from Moralton's constrictive status quo, Dolly had always fostered a secret respect for her. There was something alluring about Stephanie, something that begged back story: Dolly longed to read the text that accompanied the illustrations trellising her arms like ivy. "You think so?"

"Definitely. And if you're scared of needles, I've got an assistant who could probably distract you," Stephanie added with a playful smirk. Orel had curbed several customers' needle anxiety with breathless sermons about the incredibleness of Jesus and anecdotes about his occasionally distressing adventures ("and then I died! Three times! It was neat!")

"Would you really give me a tattoo?" Dolly asked, equally hopeful and horrified.

"If you're up for it."

Dolly twisted the cloth in her hands for a moment. The yearning to know Stephanie--to know every corner, every fold--was blossoming urgently in her chest. She wanted more than a tattoo. She wanted to familiarize herself with the inky mysticism enshrouding Stephanie Putty and if that meant romance, if that meant public scorn and disappointment and disgusted looks, so be it. She wanted Stephanie. She wanted all of her.

"Doll?"

"Y-Yes," Dolly sputtered, visibly flustered. Then she grinned cautiously and set down her hands on the bar top, allowing Stephanie to admire their delicate whorls and pearly nails at a closer proximity. "I'd love that."

.

.

iv. infatuation

"I know you think I'm stupid, Marionetta."

They had cloistered themselves away in a small clearing that provided some margin of protection from their schoolmates' scorn. A mild sky opened above them, achingly empty, painfully wide. As he stared into its doleful depths--oppressing himself not to betray the shame making dewy his eyes--he recalled the passages he had studied about the atmosphere. His old teachers had refused to teach the subject, citing the lack of a Heaven in the textbook's diagram of the Earth's atmosphere. He imagined it was sandwiched between the mesosphere and thermosphere, an impossible realm illuminated by auroras and burning space debris. But in the absence of substantial evidence that such a place existed, he was content to call the clearing Heaven, as long as Marionetta was there.

The girl smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dotted skirt. Even

[ggukcangetit]

Name of the Game: ksj fic (M)

title: Name of the Game

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/au: Anastasia AU, fluff, mystery, a bit of angst, smut, comedy

rating: 18+

word count: 14.2k

warnings: lost identity, slightly graphic description of a car accident including mentions of blood and dead bodies, minor character deaths mentioned, mentions of nightmares, mentions of past trauma, y/n gets lost multiple times, sexual content including oral (f and m receiving), kissing, grinding, fingering, breast play, nudity, unprotected sex (PLEASE USE PROTECTION).

summary: The Hotel -Strange, The Manager - Far Too Charming, The Situation - Dire, The One in Trouble - You.

a/n: here’s my adaptation of the 1997 animated Anastasia film! the idea of the hotel was inspired by the Spanish tv series - Grand Hotel! i didn’t manage to finish this by the deadline. but it is finally over. i’m not very happy with how this story turned out but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless. this was part of the Wish Upon A Star collab featuring some incredible writers and their brilliant adaptations/interpretations of different stories from our childhood. 

The address seemed correct. You had asked three people on the way over, and they had all pointed you in the same direction, accompanied by a knowing look. And in a way, they were completely correct. Concordia was a Gothic style castle, standing tall in the midst of acres and acres of lush green fields - a foreboding structure lost in time, separated from the rest of the world by sheer distance. In fact, the nearest payphone and gas station had been almost 100 miles away -  which you had used to phone the Mins.

“I think I’m almost there,” you spoke into the phone, surveying your surroundings doubtfully. “I asked a bunch of people and they all told me it’s just a few minutes away.”

They had lied. It took you at least 3 more hours to bike there.

“You sure you aren’t lost, kiddo?” You could almost see the teasing grin on Yoongi’s face.

“Oh, would you look at that? My time’s almost up” - you rolled your eyes at Yoongi’s giggles filtered through the receiver - “I’ll give you a call once I find accomodation, Yoongi! Take care, and don’t swipe any more tangerines from the shop!”

“Look out for yourself, kiddo.”

You had lived with the Mins for the better part of your 21 years of existence. They had found you almost 12 years ago, sitting under a large tree, bawling your eyes out. You had no memory of how you had gotten there, or who you were - just your name and a very battered piece of sheet music in your pocket. It was solely due to the kindness of a young couple who ran a modest cafe that you were even alive at this point. Their only son, Yoongi, preferred to lord his 4-5 year age difference by calling you ‘kiddo’. You would rather die before admitting it, but you really adored the nickname. 

Living life without an identity, without any roots, without a past - it was inconvenient at best, and unsettling at worst. You were eternally grateful to the Mins for everything they had done for you, but the first indication of financial distress arising from difficulties at the cafe had prompted you to pack your bags and leave in search of a job. 

Concordia was a name everyone knew. It was one of the oldest hotels in the country, passed down through 4 generations, known for its grandeur, luxury, and exquisite service. But most importantly, the food at Concordia was absolutely legendary. People saved up money throughout the year, so that they could travel to the hotel and try the food just once. And as a person who didn’t have much to lose, you decided that this would be the perfect place to apply for a position in the kitchens. 

What you hadn’t expected was to come across a gigantic looming structure, more suited for housing a reclusive vampire with horrible mood swings or a flamboyant literary figure prone to wild fantasies and nights of debauchery. Or both. 

You had almost turned back after seeing the castle for the first time - it didn’t seem like a place you’d want to spend more than a few seconds in. But something inside you kept nudging you forward.

There were two men standing at the main doors, looking equally formidable and archaic as the building they were guarding. After a few terrible attempts at convincing them to let you in, you gave up on the idea.

You looked around carefully. Surely there was another way of getting in. Once you were inside, you could convince whoever was in charge to give you a chance. You just needed one chance to prove yourself. Just one. 

Just then, a couple of people walked out using some kind of side entrance - a magnificently dressed woman and a young man with a certain swagger in his steps.

You crept over towards them, hoping that something from their conversation would help you out.

“I don’t understand why that silly girl creates such a fuss about bringing food to my room!” The woman rolled her eyes and brought a cigarette to her lips.

The young man took a lighter out of his pocket and lit the cigarette with a practiced sort of ease. “I’ll have a word with her, don’t worry.”

You strained your ears, trying to figure out just what they were talking about. Something to do with the hotel?

“But Mr. Kim,” she continued, taking a step closer to the young man. “Why can’t you bring my food up to my room?” The tone of her voice had most definitely changed, dropping a few octaves as she tilted her head to one side. 

“Now, now, Mrs. Trent,” he replied, with a hint of a chuckle. “You know that’s against hotel policy.”

With that, he took a definite step back. 

“Shame,” she continued, sweeping her eyes over him. “Make sure Kate doesn’t make any more mistakes with my room service.”

“Will do, ma’am,” replied Mr. Kim. He bowed to her and showed her back inside using the side entrance.

This was your opportunity. 

You followed behind them, making sure to maintain a decent amount of distance, and slipped in before the large door slowly creaked shut.

The inside was comparatively more inviting than the exterior. Lanterns at every few feet provided soft, warm lighting, and the decor looked a lot more modern and familiar than expected. The side entrance opened into a sort of lounge area, filled with comfortable sofas, small wooden tables, and a few dozen bookshelves. A record player -

“Can I help you?”

You hurriedly stepped back from the person you had bumped into - the man from earlier, Mr. Kim. 

“Uh…” You floundered for words, caught off-guard by how handsome he was. Chocolate brown eyes, devastatingly plump lips, ridiculously broad shoulders, and strong eyebrows - one of which was quite beautifully arched as he sized you up.

“I-I got lost. I wandered away from the lobby. C-could you”- you straightened your posture, mustering up all of your confidence - “direct me back there? I need to complete my check-in.”

Mr. Kim stared at you for a few moments. He seemed to be considering your words. You weren’t dressed half as extravagantly as the woman from before - who was probably a good example of the hotel’s usual clientele - but you somehow resisted the urge to tug at your clothes self-consciously.

“Of course,” he flashed you a brilliant smile, gesturing towards another part of the hotel. “This way, ma’am.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, quickly turning it into a cough as he turned towards you inquiringly. 

“Sorry, my throat is absolutely parched.”

He smiled again. “I’ll get one of the staff to bring out some water and refreshments for you.”

You nodded weakly and stood there, trying to look like you belonged. 

As soon as Mr. Kim was out of sight, you headed in the direction he had gone. Hopefully it was towards the kitchens. If not… well, you didn’t want to think about that.

It was soon evident that you were lost. Whatever this corridor was, you had no idea where it led or whether Mr. Kim had headed that way at all. Perhaps you should have waited near the front desk and thought your plan through…

“Are you looking for something?”

You whirled around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It belonged to a middle-aged woman, with a soft kind of beauty that had aged gracefully. You probably should have stuck to your story about being a guest who had gotten lost in the hotel. But something about her kind eyes encouraged you to tell her the truth.

“You want a job in the kitchens?” she asked, sounding a little skeptical. “My dear, there’s a way to apply for such positions. Why don’t you go back home and look at some proper avenues to apply for hotel internships?”

“Please,” you tried to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Just give me a chance. If I’m not capable, I’ll leave. But please, don’t turn me away.”

She sighed. “What’s your name, child?”

“Y/n.”

“What?” Her eyes seemed to well up for a moment, but she gathered herself quickly. “Y/n… Umm, alright. We’ll give you a try. One week. And if things don’t work out, you have to leave without a fuss.”

You beamed at her. “Thank you! You won’t regret it -”

She shook her head with a resigned smile. “Call me Yuna.”

Your first impression of Concordia had been spot on. There was something definitely off about the place. At the end of your first day working there, you noticed that all the staff seemed to get along with each other but there was a certain tension whenever the owners of the hotel were mentioned. Nobody said anything, but an uneasiness hung in the air every time. 

“So tomorrow,” Yuna turned towards you. She was the head chef and you had spent the entire day observing her as she directed everyone in the kitchen. “I’m going to ask you to help Kevin with the breakfasts. It’s not too tough - but in my experience, you can tell whether someone has potential by the way they cook eggs.”

You smiled. She had a subtle sense of humor, and everyone working with her absolutely adored her. She was the mother hen and head chef all rolled into one. 

“And about your accommodations-”

An interruption arrived in the form of the last person you wanted to see.

“Do we have any strawberry pastries left?” Mr. Kim asked, sauntering into the kitchen like he owned the place. 

You busied yourself with some dust that had miraculously lodged itself into your left eye at that very moment, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. But unfortunately, those piercing eyes had spotted you.

“Look who it is,” he drawled, walking over with slow, deliberate steps. All the amiable attentiveness in his eyes had been replaced with a calculating smugness. “Our lost check-in.”

“Ah, Seokjin,” Chef Yuna interrupted your staring match. “I see you’ve met our newest recruit - y/n. Y/n, this is Seokjin - my son.”

You gulped. “N-nice to meet you, Seokjin.”

“It’s Mr. Kim or Manager Kim to you, Lost Check-in,” he said, with a definite sneer. “Mum, forget about the pastry. I have a meeting with Madam Iris in a few minutes.”

With that, he walked off, leaving you a humiliated mess. Chef Yuna opened her mouth to say something but you were off without a second thought. Manager or not, how dare he speak to you like that!

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim! KIM SEOKJIN!” you all but screamed, finally catching his attention. Although, if he hadn’t been ignoring you so obviously, he would’ve turned around sooner.

“What is it, Lost Check-in? I have more important things to do,” he asked, huffing much louder than necessary.

“Why did you speak to me like that?” You glared at him, trying to keep your temper in check. “I know I lied to you before but that’s no way to talk to another human being.”

He stared at you for a few moments, and once again you got the distinct impression that he could see right through you. It took all of your determination to not break eye contact.

“Because,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “You aren’t a guest here. So I don’t need to be nice to you. Do you understand, Lost Check-in?”

You stood rooted to the spot, goosebumps breaking out all over your body. 

“S-stop calling me that!” you yelled, long after he had walked off.

Concordia belonged to the Chavalenet family. Madam Eva Chavalenet, the matriarch of the family, was silent, formidable, and barely ever seen by any of the guests or staff at the hotel; Madam Iris Farrow, Eva’s daughter, was intelligent, graceful, and extremely beautiful. She ran the hotel along with her husband, Anthony Farrow, who was the family’s solicitor. Iris and Anthony had an eight year old son - Ryan - who was an absolute terror, and someone Seokjin did not like having around. 

Unfortunately, management meetings meant that he would be seated at the antique dining table in the Chavalenet’s residential quarters, trying his best to avoid whatever it was that the young heir would try and lob at him, while the boy’s mother rattled off a long list of things for him to take care of. Seokjin couldn’t understand why none of the members of the family attempted to, or even wanted to, keep the child under control.

“Seokjin,” Madam Iris began the meeting, pulling out her expensive looking reading glasses out of her equally expensive looking purse. “The last few months have not been good for the hotel. We will need to have some layoffs.”

Seokjin kept his expression neutral. This wasn’t the first time staff had been laid off over the past year. Whoever was managing the hotel’s accounts was either doing a terrible job, or the expenses had truly outrun the income they generated from the guests. The former was the more likely possibility because people paid a pretty penny to come and stay at Concordia, and as far as he could remember, business had been booming since he had been promoted to manager two years ago.

“We’ve reviewed the staff’s evaluation forms and come to the decision that housekeeping and kitchen staff need to be reduced by 8 overall. We’ll leave it up to you to make the final decisions.” She looked up from the stack of papers in front of her and gave him a small smile. “It’s going to be difficult, so make sure to consult Chef Yuna and get her opinion on the matter as well.”

Management meetings always proceeded like this. Madam Iris gave him orders, Anthony Farrow agreed to every word she said, and Madam Eva remained unyielding in her silence. Previously, the Assistant Manager would also join these meetings - but ever since the position had been terminated, it was always the four of them. And that annoying brat, of course. 

“Before I forget,” Anthony said, turning his gaze towards Seokjin. “Make sure the sheets in our room are washed with the new ultra fine formula detergent.”

Seokjin’s jaw ticked in irritation. Anthony Farrow had married above his station, doing everything that his wife and mother-in-law asked him to do. It was only while interacting with the hotel staff that Anthony found his voice and used it with incredible high-handedness.

“Darling, don’t bother Seokjin like that.” Madam Iris understood the strategy of appeasement very well. “I will speak to Helen when she comes up to our room tomorrow morning.”

Usually, this was when the meeting would end and everyone would head back to their rooms. 

Today, however, there was an unusual interruption in the form of-

“I’m so sorry! I got lost on the way to the kitchens!”

Seokjin stared in astonishment as you hastily tried to explain why you had quite literally stumbled into the management meeting. It wasn’t that you were doing a bad job of it, per se… It was just a very tough crowd. 

“How long have you been working here, girl?” snapped Anthony.

“I’m new,” you answered, shortly.

Before Anthony could express his outrage at the tone of your response, Madam Iris stepped forward and surveyed you carefully. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

Something flickered in her gaze but she masked it quickly. “Well, y/n, this is very disappointing indeed. Usually our staff know how to conduct themselves in front of the guests and the owners. I’m afraid-”

“Let her be.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Madam Eva who had spoken for the first time that night. In fact, Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken voluntarily in the first place.

“Mother?” Madam Iris looked confused.

“The meeting is over. No need for unnecessary fuss.” Her tone was final and no one dared say anything after that.

Seokjin wasn’t sure if you understood the significance of the moment. But before any further damage could be done, you had excused yourself with an apology and left the room. 

You woke up early the next morning, partly because of another nightmare and partly because you were anxious to get to work on time. Chef Yuna may have taken on a complete stranger the day before, but you were pretty sure her kindness wouldn’t extend any further if you messed up.

On your way to the kitchens, you found yourself lost once again. It was the hotel’s fault, really. It was far too large and had one too many winding corridors. How did the guests find their way around without getting hopelessly lost? Was there some sort of map that was given out to them at the time of check-in? 

A sudden movement from a few feet away caught your eye. It was a shadow - which meant that there was someone moving about in the alcove. 

Curiosity got the better of you and your feet headed towards the person, wondering who it-

“Mr. Kim?!” 

There was no mistaking those broad shoulders. Kim Seokjin stumbled slightly, startled by your presence. 

“I-I can explai-” he stopped abruptly when he realised it was you. “Oh, it’s just you.”

You glared at him, offended by his tone. “What were you doing just now?”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he shrugged, attempting to leave without divulging any more information. 

“So you just skulk around dark alcoves indulging in shady behavior for no particular reason?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was so easy for him to regain control of the situation with that penetrating gaze and intimidating body language. “But more importantly, what are you doing in this part of the hotel?”

“I got lost again,” you muttered, looking away in embarrassment. 

“And instead of being thankful that you bumped into someone who could help you find your way back, you’re accusing me of - what was it? Ah, that’s right, ‘indulging in shady behavior’,” he emphasized the last few words with air quotes.

“As if you would have helped me!” you retaliated. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you sent me off in the complete opposite direction and made sure I never found my way back again!”

“I wouldn’t have,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “But now that you’ve brought it up, I’m going to do precisely that.”

You gaped after him. What exactly did he have against you?!

“If you don’t take me back to the kitchens,” you said, making him slow down. “I’ll tell Madam Eva that you were lurking about in places you have no business being.”

It was a long shot. But something about the atmosphere the previous night had indicated that Madam Eva’s approval was hard to come by. And the entire room had been quite shocked when she had asked for you to be left alone. 

Seokjin stopped and turned around slowly. Your threat seemed to have done the trick because he didn’t look quite as smug as he had a few moments ago. “Fast learner, aren’t you?”

You held your ground, determined not to be shaken by his intimidation tactics. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” He began walking again, in a different direction this time.

You held back a grin and followed behind him.

“But if you ever” - he whirled around suddenly, taking you by surprise - “think of blackmailing me again, things will not end well for you. Understand, Lost Check-in?”

Overall, your second day working at Concordia had not been very eventful. Chef Yuna had been very pleased with how you had prepared the eggs and potatoes for breakfast. She was looking more inclined to keeping you on permanently. Besides that, not much had really happened. You found out more about your coworkers - Kevin, Michelle and Laila. All three of them had been working there for more than two years and seemed likeable enough at first glance. 

Chef Yuna herself was something of a genius in the kitchen. While she didn’t cook often, her instructions were impeccable, and the one dish that she had cooked for dinner had been so incredible that five guests had sent back compliments to the chef. On top of that, her pleasant personality made her a hit with almost everyone. 

You could see where Seokjin got his charms from. He had a way of drawing people towards him with a combination of beautifully arranged words, intuitive actions, and overall handsome aura.

Although, there was something slightly sinister about the way he operated. You realised that the incident with Mrs. Trent had not been a solitary one. Manager Kim regularly charmed gifts, favours, and cash out of the guests. You had observed him on more than a couple of occasions, just chatting with some guest, and before you knew it there was something small being passed into his hands. And it wasn’t just women who gave him things either. 

“I hope you enjoyed the classical music session in the grand hall last night, Mr. Cowen,” said Seokjin, talking to the elderly gentleman seated near the balcony. “There’s another one scheduled for the end of next week, if you’re still staying here at that time.”

Mr. Cowen seemed utterly delighted to hear this, and not only extended his stay at the hotel but also pressed a rather thick envelope into his palm. No doubt, this was a regular occurrence because Seokjin was just incredibly smooth at handling everything that people handed to him. 

You made it a point to avoid him as much as possible. And your little stunt that morning had also ensured that Seokjin left you well alone. All in all, it was an arrangement you were quite happy with.

“Y/n, don’t forget about tonight!”

You turned towards Laila, confusion lining your expression. 

“Tonight?”

Laila rolled her eyes. “I told you about it yesterday, remember? We have a staff gathering every Friday evening! It’s basically a small party where we eat, drink, and dance to music on the manager’s boombox! It’s a lot of fun!”

You scrunched up your nose at the mention of Seokjin. But Laila looked so excited that you figured it was worth going to. Not that you had any other grand plans for the evening…

“Sure! Where does the party usually happen?”

“There’s a large unused room below the lobby,” explained Laila, eyes sparkling in excitement. “The Chavalenets don’t keep any hotel events there because it’s on a lower level, so we take advantage of that and have a good time there instead!”

“Sounds fun! I’ll be there!”

“Oh, and don’t forget to dress up!”

You stumbled on thin air. “Dress up?”

“Of course! It’s a party, y/n!” 

“I don’t have any fancy clothes…” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

That did not seem to faze Laila. “Well, it’s a good thing I have tons to spare!”

Later that night, you walked into the forgotten room below, dressed in a knee-length, midnight blue dress courtesy Laila. She had insisted on you wearing a pair of sparkly earrings as well, claiming that you absolutely could not proceed without it because it matched the little sparkles in your dress. 

You were quite glad that you had followed her advice because everyone else clearly took these small Friday gatherings very seriously. In fact, this party turned out to be the most free-flowing gathering you had encountered since stepping into the hotel. Gone was the stiff, unnatural feeling that usually clung to the atmosphere. Replaced, instead, by normal conversations, comfortable interactions, and a general feeling of warmth and comfort. 

“Y/n, you look beautiful!” Chef Yuna walked over to you with a big smile on her face. 

“Thank you! Though, I’d say most of the credit goes to Laila for letting me borrow her dress.”

Chef Yuna laughed and pointed you in the direction of the snack table. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of every dish sitting there - shrimp appetizers with a subtle garlic dip, baskets full of freshly baked bread rolls, two large bowls of salad, slices of turkey, chicken, and salami, and a very delectable looking cake with fresh cream and strawberries.

“Y/n, where did you learn to cook? Do you have any formal training?” Penny, who worked at the front desk, had only spoken to you in passing before. 

“Oh, the family I lived with owned a cafe,” you said, sipping the punch slowly. It was a little too tart for you. “I used to help out a lot here and there, and eventually got quite interested in cooking. But I don’t have any formal training.”

“That’s odd.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Penny shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have any training or experience, but Chef Yuna still hired you. I can’t see why.”

“Well, I’m grateful that she gave me a chance,” you said, a small frown gracing your features. “Otherwise I’d be unemployed and homeless.”

Penny took this as an indication to leave. You wandered around the room, avoiding people, and mulling over her words. It was a bit odd that you had been hired. Although you had tried to keep yourself from overthinking the reason behind it, now that Penny - a relative outsider - had pointed it out, you felt a little uneasy. Surely, there wasn’t a sinister motive involved…

“Shoot! The tape’s jammed!”

Kevin fumbled with the boombox, trying to open it and take the cassette out. A mass of wriggly black tape shot out after a few moments, startling him enough to make him lose his balance and fall on top of Laila. 

“My dress!” Laila yelled, as the punch spilled on her cream colored outfit. 

“I’m so sorry!” Kevin hastened to get off her, and looked around helplessly.

“Let me take a look at it,” you came over, inspecting the tape and boombox. “I can fix this but I’m not sure about your dress, Laila.”

Kevin was relieved that the tape emergency was over, but one look at Laila’s furious expression wiped the relief off his face. Chef Yuna placated Laila with promises of a home remedy for the stain, while you busied yourself working on the boombox.

Yoongi’s obsession with music, and any and all technology related to music, meant that you had seen him fixing countless tangled cassette tapes before. The boombox hadn’t eaten any of the tape, thankfully, so you looked around for a pen or pencil with which to wind the tape back into place. There didn’t seem to be any in the room, but Michelle told you that there was plenty of stationary in the backroom of the kitchens. 

While walking up the stairs, you noticed something moving about in the shadows. Was it Seokjin being shady again? Surely not…

“UGH!!!!!”

Alas. It was exactly that.

Well, not exactly. This time around, something had frightened him so much that he had let out an almighty shriek, jumped two feet into the air, and accidentally hurled a large bunch of keys in your direction. 

You realized it was accidental because a few seconds later, Seokjin’s frantic voice could be heard searching for the keys.

“Where is it?” he muttered, crawling on all fours. 

You contemplated giving him back the bunch without any fuss. But the image of his annoyingly handsome face staring at you condescendingly made you reconsider your course of action.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, walking up to him slowly. 

Clearly, the man didn’t do well with sudden noises because he let out yet another loud yelp and fell on his backside. 

“What’s wrong with you?!” he demanded. “Why would you sneak up on someone like that?”

“I was walking by when I saw you being shady again. And for the record,” you added, kneeling down beside him. “It wouldn’t feel like I was sneaking up on you if you weren’t sneaking around yourself.”

He frowned at you, and you realised that he was still in his formal work clothes. Although, you could tell that he had been rummaging about for quite a while because his shirt had come untucked and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You tried not to let the pronounced veins on his arms distract you. The last thing you needed was for his obnoxiously large ego to become even more bloated by realizing that you found him extremely attractive.

But really, you didn’t need to worry about him realizing anything. For Kim Seokjin was busily trying to comprehend the fact that you were wearing a relatively short dress and kneeling down next to him. Never before had he contemplated how long and slender your legs were - but now that he had caught more than a glimpse, he couldn’t quite get those thoughts to leave him.

“What were you doing, anyway?” you asked, realizing that no one had spoken for a significant amount of time. “I’m beginning to think you’re either a sleepwalker or a very clumsy pervert.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. He got up quickly and dusted his pants, glaring at you the entire time.

“Neither. And you need to mind your own business, Lost Check-in.”

It was your turn to frown. “Stop calling me that.”

“Stop getting in my way,” he retorted.

“Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Or else what? You’ll get me into trouble?” he sneered.

You smirked and brought the bunch of keys out from behind your back. “Not at all. I’ll just keep the hotel’s main set of keys to myself and watch you get yourself into trouble.”

“Give that back!” He lunged at you, trying to get the keys back.

You should have thought this through more thoroughly. The initial advantage you had was now gone, and instead, the man before you was able to use his height and ample shoulders to his full advantage and trap you against the wall. You held the keys behind your back, determined to keep them away from him as long as possible.

Now that you were backed up to the wall, Seokjin had to press himself flush against you in order to get closer to the keys. His hands moved wildly, trying to feel for the keys and brushing against your thighs instead. 

The sudden contact made you jolt upwards, knocking both your heads together and temporarily ceasing the fight. 

Although, if anyone had seen the two of you, they definitely wouldn’t have thought you were in the middle of a fight - the angles and movements were much more like two people feeling each other up very heatedly.

“You’re such a pain,” Seokjin muttered, rubbing the spot on his forehead you had bumped into. The tips of his fingers were placed very gently against his forehead, but somehow the movement itself was extremely aggressive.

The image was so bizarre that you burst into giggles, doubling over and collapsing onto the floor. He stared at you for a few moments before the corners of his lips started twitching upwards as well. Sighing slowly, he sat down next to you.

“You’re very strange,” he said, though it lacked the usual crisp annoyance.

“You’re one to talk. Lurking in shadowy corners on more than one occasion,” you retorted, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed. “If you must know, I’m looking for the treasure.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Growing up at the hotel, I had always heard about rumors of a great treasure that was hidden somewhere here. Mind you, no one really knew anything concrete about this treasure. But the rumors were always fantastically exciting.” He paused, leaning his head back against the wall.

“If you’ve known about it for so many years, why are you searching for it now?” you asked.

“Because I don’t think the hotel will be running much longer.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Why not?”

“Financial problems. I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s not been looking good for the past year.” A sad smile graced his features. “This hotel is my home, and it feels weird to think about a time where it won’t be a part of my life anymore. But I have to plan for the future, look ahead and make sure there’s a plan b in case the worst comes to.”

You remained silent. How were you supposed to respond to this?

“Anyway,” he continued. “Can I have the keys back?”

You looked at him, surveying his features closely. Once you moved beyond how handsome he was, you could see the determination in his eyes as well. This man was a survivor - just like you. That’s why you decided on your next course of action.

“I’ll help you.”

He blinked a few times. “Huh?”

“I’ll help you,” you repeated, handing the bunch of keys to him. “I’ll help you look for the treasure.”

It had been a week since you had started working at the hotel. Chef Yuna was satisfied with your work and hired you on a six-month contract.

“That way,” she said, while passing the contract to you. “You are free to leave the hotel if you find somewhere else you want to join. If not, we can just draw up another contract for you to continue.”

You smiled at her. She really was a very kind and compassionate person, who always looked out for the people around her. Unlike her son… 

Although maybe Kim Seokjin wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought he was.

“Lost Check-in! Don’t you look lovely today!”

Correction: he was just as bad as you had thought.

“Can you not breathe down my neck, Manager?” you said, through gritted teeth. He was currently standing right behind you, staring at the soup from over your shoulder. The close proximity meant that you could feel his breath on your neck - which was extremely unsettling.

He backed away a little and stared at you with mischief dancing in his eyes. You frowned and crossed your arms across your chest, anticipating some kind of sabotage. And sure enough, he suddenly leaned forward, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Do you know where the gummy bears are?” He pulled away slightly, tilting his head and gazing at you inquiringly.

“The gummy bears…?” you repeated, slightly dazed by the sensation of his lips on your ear.

He grinned and flicked your forehead softly. “I’ll just ask Laila.”

Apparently, Seokjin had a slight gummy bear addiction. Chef Yuna had banned any sort of gummies from the kitchen for that exact reason. Somehow, Seokjin managed to overcome that obstacle as well - he would ask the grocer to smuggle in his favorite rose colored gummy bears, even going as far as saying some guests had requested it but wanted it kept a secret. 

Laila, who you thought had a pretty obvious crush on Seokjin, was chosen as the gummy guardian in the kitchen, and occasionally, Kevin also helped hide the stash when things got too chaotic. It was only Michelle who would possibly disapprove, and therefore, was kept completely in the dark. 

“What was the manager talking to you about earlier, y/n?” Michelle came over to you after tea had been prepared for the guests. 

“Oh, uh-” you saw Laila desperately shaking her head from behind the counter. “Nothing in particular. He was just being tiresome.”

Michele frowned but nodded her head. “Okay. Just don’t fall for what he says, okay? Do your job properly and listen to Chef’s instructions. Everything will be fine that way.”

You nodded your head. What a curious thing to say… You wondered what had brought about this response from Michelle. Everyone in the hotel seemed to be very fairly fond of, if not incredibly smitten with, Seokjin. This was the first time you were witnessing such an explicitly negative response towards him. Even Madam Iris and her husband maintained a level of aloofness associated with the upper class. 

“Why does Michelle hate you?” You were standing next to Seokjin as he tried to jimmy the lock on a random cupboard in some random room. You still hadn’t been able to figure out what his process for finding the treasure was - it just seemed like a bunch of inaccurate guesses. But at least he had finally relented to your persistent nagging and asked you to join him on his next escapade.

“Why do you think she hates me?” he asked, frowning as the lock wouldn’t budge. When you didn’t respond, he turned towards you and chuckled at the skeptical expression on your face. “Okay yes, she isn’t particularly fond of me.”

“I figured that much out myself, funnily enough. What I’m asking is why?”

He hesitated a little, as if trying to find the right way to explain the situation. “Michelle and I were - uhm - we had a brief dalliance a couple of years ago. In fact, it was right after she had started working here. Things didn’t end well…”

You pressed your lips together, desperately trying to keep a straight face. It didn’t help that the tips of Seokjin’s ears had started to turn red as he finished recounting his story.

“You played her, didn’t you?” 

“No way! I would never-” he stopped, realising that you would not fall for his stories. “Yeah well, it’s not like I promised to marry her or something! We just kissed a few times and she helped get a couple of persistent guests off my back.”

“Yeah, you played her.”

He sighed, pushing past you on his way out of the room. “Whatever.”

It was incredibly amusing to see him annoyed and flustered like this. You made it a point to find out a few other things that would possibly elicit the same reaction from him. Maybe there was a particularly scandalous gummy bear story you could wedge out of Laila. 

Just as you both rounded the corner, something small and fidgety dashed into you, successfully knocking you off your feet. 

“Hey! What the hell?”

The bane of every hotel staff’s existence, the reason why a large crate of tomatoes had rolled down the main flight of stairs, the culprit behind the large pudding stain on the special ivory tablecloths, the spoilt young heir of the hotel - Ryan Farrow sat on the floor opposite you, seemingly delighted about the fact that he had managed to topple a new victim.

“Watch where you’re going, kid,” you said, trying to keep your temper in check. You had heard dozens of stories about the terrors unleashed upon your coworkers by this child, and even though this was your first direct interaction with him, you were already extremely annoyed.

“You watch where you’re going, old lady!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet and sticking his tongue out. 

“I am not an old lady!” you yelled, chasing after him as he began running off in the direction he had come from. “Hey! Get back here! You should say sor-”

The sight of a very displeased Madam Iris stopped you in your tracks. Ryan grinned at you from behind his mother, made a series of unfortunate gestures, and ran off before you could chase after him.

“Y/n,” Madam Iris spoke with a calmness not reflected in her eyes. “I’m not sure I understand what you were doing just now.”

You stood still, knowing that she had more to say, more excessively long sentences to use, more haughty expressions to display. 

“I can’t imagine that you’d be chasing my son around the hotel,” she continued, raising a thin eyebrow. “Yelling at him to apologize to you. What exactly would my son need to apologize to you for?”

“I wasn’t yelling at him,” you replied, stiffly. “He was too far away so I had to speak loudly. Also, he was running through the corridors very fast and could’ve hurt himself along with someone else. I was ju-”

“How dare you?” she frowned at you. “How dare you think you have any right to tell my son what he can and cannot do? This is basically his hotel. You work for him as much as you do for me and my mother.”

You bit your lip harshly to stop yourself from saying something that would land you in further trouble. 

“If I ever see you treating my son like that ever again,” she looked you up and down with a disdainful expression. “I will have you sacked immediately. Understood?”

You didn’t trust yourself to say anything more. Madam Iris gave you one final look of disapproval and walked off. 

“That was quite something.” 

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I don’t feel like listening to your bullshit right now, Seokjin.”

After getting no response, you removed your hands from your face, only to be greeted by a large hand full of rose gummy bears. Seokjin stood in front of you, wiggling his eyebrows and nose, trying to indicate that you should take some of the gummy bears from his hand.

He looked cute. 

“Is there something wrong with these gummy bears?” you asked, once you had recovered from his oddly endearing actions. 

He frowned, a soft pout forming. “I’m appalled. Whatever differences we may have, Lost Check-in, I would never put my precious gummy bears in danger.”

You remained unconvinced, so he picked up a single gummy bear between his thumb and index finger, and popped it into his mouth. After a couple of chews, he thrust the gummy bears towards you, gently bobbing his head up and down to signal to you that it was safe to try some.

You rolled your eyes and picked up a couple of them. Seokjin was watching you intently, trying to gauge your reaction to his favorite treat. 

Your first instinct was to say that you hated it - it would be so much fun to watch his disappointment. But his large brown eyes were filled with a clear emotion - anticipation - the kind you feel when introducing your best friend to something you love. At least, that’s what you’d imagine the feeling would be, because you never really had a best friend before. 

“I like it.” It was a simple statement but somehow, it managed to earn a full-blown smile from him.

“Excellent! I knew you’d like it!”

Your face felt hot as he grabbed your hand and shoved the rest of the gummy bears into it.

“Oh, and I got this for you.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket and pulled out a battered looking document. “It’s a map of the hotel - it’s quite old but I’ve scribbled down any new additions or structures that may have been added more recently.”

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, trying to avoid the more pressing question of why he was going out of his way to give this to you.

“Madam Eva gave it to me,” he replied, simply. 

“Madam Eva? Why would she give you a map of the hotel? Didn’t you grow up here? Why would you need it anyway?” The questions poured out before you could really check yourself.

“Oh hush, Lost Check-in,” he tutted, shaking his head. “I got it from her to give to you. So you wouldn’t keep losing yourself in dark corridors. I wouldn’t want you to bump into someone else like you did with me.”

“Huh?” was your very intelligent response.

Corridors. So many corridors. None of them leading anywhere. Just an endless path. No destination in sight. No doors on any sides. No rooms. Not a single person around. You were all alone. A single object far away. Too far away. The corridor doesn’t end. A figure in black. Growing larger. It was coming for you-

“It was a nightmare… thank god...” You woke up in a cold sweat, breathing harshly as you struggled to gather your surroundings. 

You were in your room, the gentle sounds of Michelle’s snores calming you down while you got up to get a drink of water. It didn’t seem like you would be able to get to sleep anytime soon so you decided to study the map Seokjin had given you. 

It was no wonder you kept getting lost in the hotel - it was massive and there were a number of rooms within rooms whose existence you wouldn’t be aware of unless you specifically knew where to find them. 

Your eyes wandered over to the top left corner of the map. That particular section of the map was much more faded than the rest of it, making it hard to decipher exactly what was there.

“Seokjin!” You burst into his room just as the clock struck 6 in the morning. “I think I know where we should be searching next! Th-”

You nearly collided with the table in the centre of the room as you realised exactly what you had stumbled upon. 

Seokjin doing his morning stretches. Seokjin, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches. Seokjin, wearing a peach colored t-shirt and tiny pink shorts, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches. Seokjin, whose ears were now a bright red, wearing a peach colored t-shirt and tiny pink shorts, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches.

“Y/n?” he asked, looking very confused.

“Thigh- I mean, hi!” You looked away from the lower half of his body, donned in the most ridiculously tiny pair of tennis shorts you had ever laid eyes on. “I have an idea.”

“Okay? Is it related to knocking before you burst into someone’s room at the crack of dawn?” he replied, grinning cheekily.

“Shut up!” you scoffed, turning away from him. You didn’t need him to see how affected you were.

“Okay, just gimme a minute.”

Soon, he was back, appropriately dressed and smelling like strawberries. Of course he smelled like strawberries…

“So what was your great idea?” he asked, sitting down on the floor.

“I was looking through the map of the hotel,” you said, opening it up. “And this place right here on the top left corner of the map - I think this place would be worth a shot.”

“No.”

“No? Why not?!” You were slightly annoyed at how quickly he dismissed your suggestion.

“Because,” he said, pulling the map closer to himself. “This is where the Chavalenet suites are located.”

“Oh…” You frowned at the map. “But that means there’s a greater chance of finding the treasure over there! Have you looked there before?”

“No, because only select staff are allowed there during fixed hours. Madam Iris insists on it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I think we should check it out. Come on, we’ll be very careful! They’ll never know we were there!”

The earnest look in your eyes seemed to make Seokjin waver. He stared at you for a few moments before shaking his head resignedly. 

“What’s the worst that could happen… Ah, fine. Let’s plan on exploring that section of the hotel while dinner is being served. I know that Anthony requested a special performance by that famous children’s magician, so they should be occupied for much longer than usual.”

You grinned, collecting the map and getting ready to leave the room. “I’ll meet you outside the kitchens at 7!”

It was exactly twenty past 7 when you rushed out of the kitchen, nearly colliding with Seokjin in the process. He tapped his watch a few times, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.  

“I hate that woman!” you huffed angrily, slipping into your jacket. “She actually requested that I peel all the potatoes for tonight’s dinner. Do you know how many potatoes were served tonight? 200!”

“You peeled 200 potatoes by yourself?” Seokjin raised his eyebrows in alarm. 

“No,” you sighed. “Chef Yuna got Laila to help me out but Madam Iris kept popping in every few minutes so she had to go back to doing something else. Mind you, I might not have finished at all tonight if she hadn’t helped me. But it still took an insane amount of time.”

The two of you walked towards the Chavalenets’ section of the hotel. It was located at the back of the building, effectively cut off from the usually busy portions of the hotel. 

“Why is this family so weird?” you complained, picking at a thread on your jacket. “One doesn’t speak, one is an evil tyrant, one is a spineless asshole, and don’t even get me started on the kid!”

Seokjin chuckled softly. “They weren’t always so weird. Especially not Madam Eva.”

“Really? I don’t believe it. She just sits there and watches her daughter do whatever she wants.”

“No, it’s true. She was a very powerful woman - used to command the attention of everyone in the room. Everyone respected her and she really cared about everyone in the hotel - staff and guests included. In fact, she was the one who introduced special events for guests during the evenings. She also had part of the hotel renovated so that there were more staff quarters.”

“So what happened?”

“A couple of things. About 15 years ago, Madam Eva’s husband passed away quite suddenly. Everyone was pretty shocked, but in hindsight it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. He liked to live it up - smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish, and ate everything the doctors specifically asked him to avoid. Anyway, around the time of his death, rumors about the treasure started circulating. There was speculation that he had left something behind but hadn’t told the rest of the family. Overall, his death created a lot of upheaval in terms of property and inheritance issues.”

Seokjin paused, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“It was about two years after that that Madam Eva’s son and his family died in a car crash. Adrian, his wife Sophie, and their little girl - who funnily enough had the same name as you.”

“Really?!” you asked, eyes widening in surprise. That would explain why Chef Yuna and the Chavalenets had reacted so strangely when they had heard your name.

“Yeah,” he said, turning towards you with a sad smile. “I still remember that day clearly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Madam Eva as devastated as she had been that day. The police barely managed to stop her from going to the crash site. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if she had managed to get there - apparently, the explosion was so bad that only a few body parts were recovered.”

“Wow…” You didn’t know what to say. The story sounded horrible on its own - what must it have been to actually have to live through it?

“Anyway, here we are” -Seokjin pointed at a couple of large doors next to each other - “that’s Madam Iris’ study and her and Anthony’s bedroom next to it. On the other end of the corridor is Madam Eva’s room and an empty ballroom where they sometimes hold meetings.”

“Okay, let’s start with the study.”

Madam Iris’ study was a very well organized room. There was no way you could rummage through it without moving something out of place. Seokjin suggested that each item should be returned to its place as soon as it was inspected, making sure that nothing was left to be put back at the end. It seemed like a pretty efficient system, but unfortunately, there appeared to be nothing useful that could point you towards the treasure.

“I knew it!” Seokjin stood up and waved a large paper notebook frantically. “I knew she was tampering with the books! There’s no way the hotel could be doing as badly as she claimed!”

You frowned and took a quick glance at the notebook. Not being familiar with any of the accounts, you looked at Seokjin for some help. He began explaining every single mistake with a feverish excitement, his words coming out faster as he got more excited. 

Suddenly, you heard a noise from outside the room. 

There was no need to check who it was - in whatever scenario, you and Seokjin could not be caught rifling through the papers in Madam Iris’ room. 

“Seokjin!” you whispered frantically. “Shut up! There’s someone coming!”

He wasn’t paying any attention to you, excitedly rattling off different things from the notebook. The voices were getting closer and in a last desperate attempt, you pulled him behind the large red curtains and smashed your lips to his.

That seemed to shut him up for a moment. But as he realized that your lips were on his, he attempted to pull away. There was no way you could risk letting Seokjin talk right now. So you moved your lips over his, kissing him fast and hard, while your fingers frantically tapped a pattern onto his left arm. Hopefully he would notice the pressure on his arm and understand that you were trying to tell him something - that you were trying to tell him to shut up for a few minutes.

Thankfully, he stopped struggling after a few taps on his arm, focusing on kissing you instead. 

You nearly missed out on the conversation happening at the other end of the room because Seokjin’s lips were just so damn powerful.

“Iris,” you recognized Madam Eva’s voice, low and stern. “I’m running out of patience. When is that lawyer husband of yours going to be done with the new staff contracts?”

“Mother, please, have patience. Anthony can’t just rush through such an important task. We need to everything is absolutely perfect before handing it over to you.”

“You have until the end of the month,” Madam Eva said, her voice ringing with finality. 

The door slammed shut and the sound of the two pairs of footsteps slowly receded into silence.

It took you a few seconds to realise that the coast was clear. Pulling away from him hastily, you took in the sight of his bruised lips and dazed expression. Pushing aside the delighted feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach, you brought his attention to the conversation you both had just overheard. 

“Sorry about that - I had to find some way to shut you up quickly! But more importantly, we need to find those contracts! Did you hear what they were saying? I’m sure Iris is planning something sinister!”

Seokjin had not, in fact, heard anything that had been said. His brain had started glitching as soon as your lips had descended on his. But it was only when you started tapping his hand, did his world come crashing around him. 

“Y/n! We aren’t supposed to be here! I’ll get into trouble if they find me here!” 

9 year old Seokjin had quite a few reservations about raiding the special chocolate cabinet that was kept locked and stored inside the grand ballroom. 

“Shh!” you whispered, pouting at him. “If you keep screaming like that, they’ll definitely find us!”

“What?!” Panic seized his entire body, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could think about them. “I knew it! This is a disaster! I’m going to be in so much trouble! Mum is gonna-”

The feeling of something soft on his cheeks made him halt his word vomit. Your lips, to be precise. 

Before he could overreact to this as well, you began tapping his forearm rhythmically. The movement snapped him out of shock, alerting him to the fact that two of the hotel staff were currently taking away the old centre pieces on the tables.��

He pulled away from you slowly, nodding his head to let you know that he would be quiet until they left.

It was a good 15 minutes later that the coast was finally clear. However, Seokjin’s ears were still red and his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Sorry, Jin,” you apologized, grinning at him mischievously. “I had to shut you up quickly!”

It came back to him in a rush. A pile of memories, falling from the sky and burying him under the emotions he had kept locked up for more than a decade.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. Madam Eva’s beloved granddaughter was still alive. You were still alive. You were Madam Eva’s granddaughter.

“I can’t believe I kissed him like that!”

You were currently having a mini meltdown inside your room. Thankfully, Michelle was still working so you had the whole place to yourself to rant about your ridiculous choice of actions.

“I could’ve just covered his mouth with my hand!” You buried your face in your hands. “But NO! I had to use my mouth to cover his mouth! What was I thinking? No! What is he thinking?! Fuck!”

This was getting too much. Your face felt unbelievably hot, and you couldn’t make sense of your own actions. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t kissed a guy before - in fact, those sloppy kisses you had shared with Yoongi’s best friend, Hoseok, had been quite enjoyable. But that was after Hoseok had said that he liked you - you hadn’t just jumped him out of nowhere!

“I’m such an idiot!” you groaned. 

There was no point screaming to yourself inside the room. Perhaps a walk around the hotel would help you calm down. You’d probably get lost again and it would take hours for you to find your way back. The perfect distraction!

The walk was beginning to do the trick - you were so busy examining the different paintings and statues lining the corridors that you ended up at some random part of the hotel, too immersed in what you had found to overthink the kiss.

“A piano?” You walked into the small room, marveling at the beautiful ivory piano situated in a corner. 

“It looks like no one’s used this in years,” you muttered to yourself, opening the keylid and lightly running your fingers over the keys. “Shame… it looks so magnificent.”

An idea popped up in your head. When the Mins had found you 12 years ago, the only object in your possession had been a roughly folded set of sheet music. Yoongi had saved up enough money to buy a second hand piano - but there hadn’t been enough keys on it to play the last page of the sheet music. 

But this grand piano would do nicely. 

Sneaking a peak around the room, you made sure that no one else was there. The last thing you needed was for Madam Iris or anyone from her family to catch you here. 

“Okay, let’s try this.”

The first note sounded rich, and the tone was definitely of more superior quality than the one you had practiced on with Yoongi. As you continued playing the piece, your thoughts wandered over to the Mins. A wave of homesickness hit you suddenly and images of the cafe sailed through your mind - you wondered how they were doing. Was the cafe managing a little better now? Maybe you’d use one of the hotel’s telephones to call Yoongi and see how they were doing…

“Huh?” You stopped playing, confused by the sound coming from the key you had just played. 

You were now on the last page of the sheet music - your right hand on the highest scale available. The e flat key did not sound right, and you checked the sheet music to make sure you were playing the right one. 

“No… this seems right. Why does it sound off?” you wondered, pressing the key a little harder this time.

All of a sudden, there was a loud creak and one of the wooden panels behind you sprung open. You nearly fell off the piano stool in shock, just barely managing to hold on as you waited for someone to jump out from the shadows and attack you.

Thankfully, no one did. But the panel remained open, subtly inviting you inside.

“What’s the harm in checking it out?” you reasoned with yourself. “No one’s going to find out.”

And so, you stepped through the opening, walking into a very large room filled with trunks of different sizes, a few large cabinets, and dozens of pictures set up all over. It almost resembled some kind of store room. Upon closer inspection, you realized that all the pictures were of the same people - a young man with a soft smile, a very beautiful woman standing next to him, and a little girl who never seemed to be facing the camera when the picture was taken.

They looked so familiar. Like something out of a dream. A dream that you were struggling to grasp at as it slipped away into your subconscious. 

With every picture you examined, the ache inside your chest grew. Soon, there were tears falling from your eyes as an overwhelming rush of memories hit you like a ton of bricks. Your father showing you the different keys on the piano while your mother fussed about not having enough time to teach you how to write. Your grandmother talking you on walks through the property, telling you stories about how there used to be deer and rabbits before most of the greenery was cleared away. Your family showering you with so much love while you raced about the hotel making new friends, playing hide and seek, and dragging your best friend along with you.

“It can’t be…” you wiped away your tears furiously. “How can this be true…”

You sat down on one of the trunks, burying your face in your hands. Your head hurt. Your chest hurt. Everything hurt. You wanted to cry. You also wanted to punch your way through the hard stone walls. 

You felt… lost.

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked his wife, the fear very apparent in his voice.

Madam Iris snapped at him. “Of course I’m sure! Would I be joking about something like this?”

Anthony gulped and looked down at his hands. “So Adrian and Sophie’s kid is still alive… what if they are too?!”

“No, they’re not,” she replied, shaking her head definitely. “I saw their bodies in the crash. It was just that pesky kid I couldn’t find…”

“You don’t think she’s back for revenge, do you?” 

“I’m pretty sure she has no idea about her true identity,” Madam Iris contemplated. “But it’s better to not take any chances - we should get rid of her quickly. Before someone else realizes who she is.”

Anthony stared at his wife doubtfully. “Doesn’t that seem a little extreme? I mean… she’ll probably never figure it out if she hasn’t already.”

“My darling,” Madam Iris sat beside him and took his hand in hers. “How many times have I told you not to use that little brain of yours? It’s landed us in a fix quite a few times already. So please, leave the planning to me. And just do as I say.”

“You aren’t joking, right?”

Seokjin sighed and shook his head. He had been trying to explain everything to his mother for the past half an hour - but every few minutes, she would give him a skeptical look and ask if he was playing some kind of elaborate prank.

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

Chef Yuna rubbed her forehead tiredly. “It did catch me by surprise when she said her name was ‘y/n’. My mind immediately thought of the little girl running around the hotel, stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Seokjin smiled softly, recalling all the memories he had of you when you were both children. 

“Including yours, if I remember correctly,” his mother teased him.

Seokjin’s ears turned red and he cleared his throat loudly. “I don’t know how to tell her… that she’s part of the Chavalenet family. Probably even the next heir if we consider the inheritance laws.”

Chef Yuna nodded her head. “The oldest child of the oldest child will inherit the property.”

She looked at her son who was busily examining the skin around his fingernails - a habit he had picked up around the time of his promotion. It signaled a great amount of anxiety inside him. 

“Maybe you should talk to Madam Eva about this,” she said, gently. “It’s probably the best course of action right now.”

Seokjin nodded his head. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that Madam Eva would have to be told about this revelation. It was the next logical step - she would be the best person to tell you the truth.

But his heart felt heavy. On one hand, he was incredibly glad that you were still alive - his childhood friend, the only person he ever remembered being really close to. On the other hand, this meant that both of you belonged in separate worlds - worlds which were leagues apart, worlds which didn’t have any place for each other.

A part of him, selfishly, wanted to keep the truth to himself, and be able to stay by your side for a bit longer. Over the past couple of days, he had come to the startling revelation that he had feelings for you - and the thought of never being able to act on those feelings made his heart clench painfully. 

He wanted to kiss you again - properly, this time. But now, even if you somehow managed to return his feelings, there was no way the two of you would ever work out.

Life was quite unfair sometimes.

Madam Eva had tears in her eyes as she hugged you tightly to her chest. Soft sobs wracked her entire person, and you patted her back awkwardly.

“My sweet child,” she managed to say between sobs. “My sweet y/n. I can’t believe that you’re here in front of me! That you’re alive! I missed you so much!”

Truth be told, you were very overwhelmed by everything that had been going on the past couple of days. You had even briefly contemplated running away and going back to the Mins. 

But then Seokjin had told Madam Eva the truth - the truth you had no idea he was aware of.

And that had stung.

“How long have you known?” you asked him, once things had quietened down a little. 

“Two days,” he replied. His eyes looked sad and that annoyed you even more. Why was he sad?! He was the one who had figured out your identity and then revealed it to your family without once thinking of telling you anything! If anyone should be sad, it should be you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone was clipped as you tried your best to control the anger underneath.

“Huh?” 

You uncrossed your arms from over your chest. “If you knew, why didn’t you tell me? I should’ve been the first to know! I’m the one it affects most! How could you not tell me?!”

Seokjin recoiled a little. “I- uh- wasn’t completely sure. I didn’t want to confuse you.”

You let out a mirthless laugh. “How considerate! You didn’t want to confuse me? Well how do you think I feel now?! I was ambushed by a family and a past that I wasn’t prepared to confront! I was barely able to wrap my head around the memories that suddenly assaulted me when the whole hotel came crashing down on me in tears and embraces! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL, SEOKJIN?!”

You were yelling now as tears streamed down your face. Seokjin attempted to reach out to you but you brushed his hand aside roughly.

“Don’t touch me.” The words felt like they were choking inside your throat. “And don’t talk to me. Ever.”

You didn’t have much time to yourself as the hotel began preparing celebrations in honor of your return. The first item on the agenda was a bonfire organized by your grandmother. Everyone was very excited about it because it had been years since she had actively taken part in any hotel event. 

“Feels like the good old days!” Chef Yuna said, barely able to contain the excitement in her voice. “You lot have never been to an event organized by Madam Eva - they’re really a once in a lifetime kind of experience!”

It was just around dusk that everyone gathered around a large bonfire, prepared for an evening of song, dance, and wonderful food. The guests along with the hotel staff were extremely excited about the bonfire, but there were three faces that looked like they would rather be anywhere else but here.

The first was Madam Iris, whose hazel eyes burned with a cold anger as she watched everyone fuss over you. The second was her husband, Anthony Farrow, who looked pale and kept glancing at his wife nervously. And the third was you, who felt like you deserved none of this and couldn’t reconcile whatever was going on with what you had known for so many years.

“It has been many years since my heart felt any kind of joy,” Madam Eva began, looking around with a bright smile. “As many of you know, I lost my husband 15 years ago, and shortly afterwards, my son and daughter-in-law were killed in a car crash. All these years, I thought that I had lost my darling granddaughter as well - but somehow, the heavens have granted me a miracle. It’s been so many years since I last saw you, my dear y/n, and I cannot express how happy I am to see you again.”

Everyone clapped and cheered as she gave you another hug. Maybe you didn’t deserve it, but it felt nice to be showered with so much love and affection. You just wished you could remember something more - you had absolutely no memory of the car accident that had killed your parents even though many other little details about your past were very clear. 

“Please, everyone help yourselves to the food and drinks prepared by our talented Chef Yuna and her incredible team!”

Halfway through the event, everyone had scattered to different parts of the grounds. Besides the main bonfire, a number of small heating devices had been set up so that people could stay warm outdoors. 

You had just finished a small plate filled with dishes Chef Yuna had made. They were all incredible but everything felt like sandpaper in your mouth. You wondered when it would be okay for you to go back inside without it looking too impolite. 

Trudging back to the bonfire, you noticed that only Madam Iris was sitting there. You were in no mood to interact with her - she hadn’t been subtle about expressing her dislike towards you even after finding out who you really were.

Just before you could turn back, she stood up and walked over to pick up something that had fallen on the ground. She was wearing a billowy black cloak over her expensive clothes and the bonfire behind her illuminated her silhouette like…

The air is full of smoke. You cough and sit up, looking around for your parents.

“Mum! Dad!” you yell, coughing furiously. “Wh-where are you?!”

The smoke is getting in your eyes and you rub at them to try and clear your vision. You try and get up but the shooting pain in your left leg stops you. There’s a huge gash below your knee, red and brown as the dirt on the road mixes with your blood. 

“Mum! Dad!” you scream again, hoping that they might finally hear you. “Help me, please!”

Suddenly, a huge explosion rocks the area, sending you flying into the nearest obstacle. 

Your back hurts as you try and sit up again, trying to see where the explosion came from. Your eyes catch sight of a brilliant orange light, roaring against the night sky. 

A fire. 

And in front of the fire, stands a figure in a black cloak, looking so frightening that you start crying in fear.

“HELP!” you yell, struggling to get to your feet. 

The figure is getting closer and something inside you knows that you need to get away from it.

“HELP ME! PLEASE!” You have somehow managed to stand up, but fear keeps you paralyzed in place.

A sudden gust of wind blows through the night, shifting the direction of the embers, and you catch a glimpse of their face.

Suddenly, the ground beneath you wobbles and you find yourself hurtling down the side of the road. You try desperately to grab onto something but your momentum is too strong. You finally come to a stop after crashing into a tree, the last of your consciousness slipping away as the face comes back to haunt you.

It is your aunt, Iris.

“It was you!” you screamed, as the memories came back - the car crash, the chase that led to the crash, your parents’ frantic voices, your mother pushing you out of the car before it crashed. “You were there that night! You were chasing our car that night! You’re the one who watched us crash and didn’t do anything about it! You killed my parents!”

Madam Iris glared at you with unbridled hatred. “Shut up! Just SHUT UP! You ruined everything, you stupid little bitch! I was this close to getting everything!”

A fight ensued as Iris attacked you with all her might. At one point, Anthony joined in as well, and you were worried that you would be outnumbered. But somehow, Seokjin managed to find you and subdued Anthony quickly. After that, it didn’t take long for you to get the better of Iris - a few punches and she was down. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked her, panting for breath. 

She sat down by the tree, exhausted, but spitting venom from her eyes. “Fuck you.”

It turned out that Iris didn’t need to say anything. As soon as your grandmother had looked at Anthony sternly, the frightened man had opened his mouth and spilled each and every one of his wife’s secrets. It was quite a sad story overall. 

On that fateful night, 12 years ago, your father had found the ‘treasure’. Both he and Iris had been looking for it for days, believing that it was either a lot of priceless jewels or some very important property papers. After your father had found it, he had tried his best to keep it hidden, but Iris had found out about it anyway. A huge argument had taken place, following which your father had decided to run away with you and your mother. You had all snuck out in the middle of the night, driving off in a car with some of your belongings. Iris had given chase and watched as the car had crashed and then burst into flames. She had also believed that you had rolled down the edge of the road to your death. 

Over the past 12 years, she had tried to find out where your father had hidden the treasure, but did not succeed. In fact, it was you who had stumbled across it the night that you had found the hidden room behind the wooden panel. 

Alas! The treasure was not so much a treasure as a horrific surprise. Your grandfather had apparently sold off the hotel a few days before his death - and hidden the fact from everyone, including his wife and children. However, he had hidden the legal papers so that neither the new owners nor his family would ever be able to prove the fact. It was one last ridiculous game he had played before succumbing to all his vices. 

Iris’ grand plans of selling the hotel citing financial losses - which she had orchestrated herself - had also been foiled by the discovery of those papers. She and Anthony had been taken into police custody for further questioning. 

Your grandmother had taken the news of the sale relatively well. She had immediately packed her bags and left to visit the new owners, hoping to garner some goodwill in the process.

All of this had happened in a matter of a few hours, and you had completely forgotten about the injuries you had sustained from fighting your aunt. So, that was why you were currently sitting in the room behind the front desk, trying not to fidget as Seokjin tended to your wounds.

“That was… an interesting series of events,” he said, trying to ease the tension in the air. “I never really liked that woman but I definitely didn’t think she was that crazy.”

You remained silent. Seokjin continued to clean the cuts and scrapes carefully. Once again, you noticed how he gently held the cotton swab but then shook it vigorously to get the excess antiseptic off. It was strangely endearing, and made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Jin?” you used your nickname for him. 

He looked up from the cut on your knee, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Do you have any rose gummy bears?”

He blinked a few times before smiling and nodding his head. Quickly finishing up with the rest of injuries, he asked you to wait while he raided the secret stash. 

“Here.” He handed you a small bag full of his favorite gummy bears and sat down next to you.

You gave him a small smile and took out a couple of gummy bears, swiftly popping them into your mouth. Seokjin said nothing, waiting patiently for you to finish eating as many as you wanted.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, after a while.

“Of course.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Seokjin’s ears turned red as he stared at the wall in front of him. His side profile was so gorgeous, soft lines defining his strong features. 

“Can I?” you asked, making him turn towards you. “Not to distract you. Not to prevent people from finding us. Nothing like that. Just” - you tilted your head to one side - “because I want to.”

He nodded his head slowly, giving you the permission you hadn’t asked for the last time. 

You drew him closer and softly kissed his lips. After a few seconds, he responded as well, cupping your cheek with his hand, and returning your kisses with enthusiasm.

“Why do you want to?” he asked, in between kisses. “Why do you want to kiss me?”

You pulled away and frowned at him. “You’re an ass. Why do you think I want to?”

He grinned, kissing you behind each ear and starting a slow path down your neck. “Indulge me.”

“It’s because- ugh!” you gasped as he nipped at the sensitive spot near your collarbone. “Because - because -”

He stopped his assault on your neck, eyes twinkling playfully. “Because?”

“Two can play at this game,” you muttered, incredibly embarrassed and equally turned on. You moved over to sit on his lap, grinding against him while leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. Once his entire neck was sufficiently covered with light nips, you moved back to his lips, kissing him deep and hard.

“Y/n,” he gasped into your mouth. “I’m going to explode.”

“Are you now?” you whispered, swiping your tongue into his mouth and feeling your insides curl with pleasure. “Good.”

“I’m serious,” he managed to say between some very loud moans. “I’ll ruin my pants if we keep going like this.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping off and making quick work of his belt buckle. “Take it off then.”

“W-what?” he choked, unable to believe what he had just heard.

“Take off your pants.” You raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down carefully. “Do you know how many times I've thought about seeing that cock of yours after walking in on you doing morning stretches? Why the hell would you wear such tiny tennis shorts anyway?"

If possible, Seokjin's ears turned even more red. "A-are you sure? We don't need to rush or anything."

"Yeah, we don't. But I want to. So," you said, rubbing your palms along his legs. "Take off your pants."

Seokjin grinned, the cheeky glint back in his eyes. "If you insist. But I'm not going to be the only one losing their pants."

"With pleasure," you replied.

The pants were off and soon, the two of you were back to kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. His tongue ravaged your mouth while one of his hands dropped down between your legs and started rubbing you over your panties.

"Feels - mhmm - so good." You matched the rhythm of his fingers, bucking your hips into his hand. Your hand also moved down from his neck and palmed his cock, drawing the most delicious moans from him. Very soon your top and his shirt joined the pile of pants, leaving you both in just your underwear.

"Y/n," Seokjin groaned, taking in the sight of your breasts. "You're so hot."

The two of you remained like that for a bit, almost completely naked, tongues down each others' throats and hands rubbing each other into ecstasy. You felt wetness between your legs, clenching violently when he parted your panties and stroked you between your folds.

"Fuck..." you moaned into his mouth.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he mumbled into your mouth. "Do you want me to use my mouth?"

Your brain could barely process what he had said, but you nodded anyway, senses hazy with pleasure.

"Okay, lie down for me, y/n" he said, pulling away from you. "Let me make you feel good."

You lay down on the sofa, legs parted, as Seokjin hovered over you. "So beautiful. So wet."

He began peppering your inner thighs with light kisses, making you squirm in pleasure. Making his way to your core at an agonizingly slow pace, he finally removed your panties and licked a stripe between your folds.

"Jin! Fuck! I-" Your hips shot up at the intense feeling.

He paid no heed to your moans, licking and slurping your pussy until you were absolutely on the edge.

"I'm close! Please!"

Seokjin plunged a finger inside, using his other hand to keep your legs down. The sensation of his long, slender finger inside you combined with the sight of his head between your thighs was enough for you to reach your climax.

Stars exploded in your vision as the orgasm rocked through you. Seokjin continued his beautiful work on your pussy until you breathed a shaky sigh of pleasure.

"Did you like it?" he asked, teasingly. There was no way he could've missed your screams of pleasure.

"How about I show you just how much I liked it?" you asked, sitting up and playing with the band of his underwear.

Seokjin smirked and quickly shimmied out of his underwear. "Be my guest."

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock - it was huge. Would he even be able to fit?

"Tell me what feels good," you said, licking long stripes up and down his length. Precum was leaking from his tip already, and you used your tongue to tease him further. Seokjin moaned, gripping the fabric of the sofa as you sucked his cock a few times.

"Don't tease, y/n," he managed with a lot of difficulty. "I don't think I can control myself for much longer."

Pressing a few small kisses to his tip, you leaned back and positioned yourself in front of him. "Okay, I think I'm ready."

A pained expression crossed his face as he took in the sight of you kneeling on your knees, waiting for him to cum.

"Maybe next time," he said, pulling you up to him and placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Right now, I want to be inside you."

"Are you sure?" you asked, returning his kiss.

"Yeah, but let's hurry," he mumbled, taking his throbbing red cock in his hand.

You laid down on the sofa again, spreading your legs for him. He positioned the tip of his cock in front of your entrance, rubbing you a few times before entering slowly.

"Tell me if it's too much," he whispered into your ear, before placing kisses all over your face and neck.

"Mm hmm,"you mumbled, getting used to the stretch.

Seokjin moved his mouth from your neck to your breast, placing sloppy kisses on the mounds before taking one of them in his mouth. You shuddered with pleasure as his tongue swirled around your nippled.

Your senses were getting overwhelmed again - Seokjin had started thrusting into you while simultaneously moving his mouth onto your other breast.

"Is this okay?" he managed between thrusts, his voice hoarse and delightfully sexy.

"Y-yeah, just do what you need to," you said, gripping his biceps with all your might.

He grunted in response, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The room was filled with the sounds of both your moans, and you knew that a second orgasm was building.

Just then, a shrill ring sounded through the room, startling you both. Seokjin barely managed to keep himself from falling off the sofa, placing a hand over his chest as he looked around wildly.

It was the telephone.

Seokjin sighed and pulled out of you, quickly going over to pick up the receiver.

"How can I help you?" he asked, standing there in his full naked glory.

You bit your lip as you drank in the sight of him - from his rippling shoulder muscles to his abs to his tapering waist and dangling cock.

"Of course, madam. But it is currently 2 in the morning. Please call after 7 am in order to make a reservation. Thank you. Have a good night."

Clicking the receiver in place, he rushed back to you, jumping onto the sofa with a smirk.

"Now where were we?"

this took me 2 hours to format on the site T_T i am exhausted. please give it some love! i would love to know what you thought of this story! please like and reblog! thank you! tagging @yoongsgguktae​ @sugamonster22​ @anglofmrcy​ @blue1928​ @jinpanman​ @thatlongspringnight​ @thatmultifandomhoe​ 

[awhiskeyriver]

Author Interview

I was tagged on main by @hutchhitched @endlessnightlock and @softlikethesunset12...Thank you all so much! ♥️ ♥️

Name: Amelia

Fandoms: The Hunger Games

Where do you post?: AO3 and tumblr

Most popular multi-chapter: The Bet

Favourite story you’ve written so far: Whatever one I’m writing ends up being my favorite for the moment because I get so emotionally invested, haha. I think of the stories that are still posted, my favorite is The Bet. Of all the ones I’ve written, period, I think With Eyes to Hear.

Fic you were nervous to post:  Dysphoria, because I didn’t want to offend anyone and was nervous I hadn’t gotten everything right. The Bet because I knew there was going to be a lot of drama before the HEA and also it was my return to writing after a 3-4 years hiatus.

How do you choose your titles?: I hate thinking up titles and it is usually the last thing I do. They are so difficult. Usually I spitball a few options with friends and see which one fits the best. I also like them better when they’re simple.

Do you outline?: Umm...yes, very much so, haha. I cannot write without an outline because I have to know where the story ends in order to properly pace the flow. I usually write a basic outline first, then add in more details and then finally do a chapter by chapter outline.

Complete: Uhhh, I haven’t counted in a long time haha. Over 20 for sure in my lifetime fic writing, but I don’t know exactly.

In Progress: I have 3 posted WIPS and I have two stories in The Panem Nightlocks universe to write annnnd outlines for three new stories in another sports!romance genre mapped out. So...eight?

Coming soon: The Tutor (Annie x Finnick’s story from The Panem Nightlocks), and a new hockey romance that will begin with Everlark :) not named yet.

Do you accept prompts?: Yes, when I’m looking for a writers block jumpstart or just a palette cleanser here on tumblr. But I usually don’t accept prompts for anything more than a drabble. I have to be inspired to write something so it’s hard for me find too much inspiration from something being given to me.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I’m super excited for the new series I’ve been mapping out. @roxys-turing-machine has been listening to all of my ramblings and helping me piece together some really awesome outlines and I think you guys are really going to like it!

Upcoming story/stories you are most excited about: I have so many stories that are on my ‘to read’ list I’ve lost count. I’m sorry to all the stories I haven’t been able to read yet! I promise I’m getting there :)

Thanks again for the tag lovelies!

I don’t know who’s done this already, but I will tag @wendywobbles @southsidestory @winegirl65 @papofglencoe @jhsgf82 @bethpeaches123 @im-doing-hot-girl-shit @sunsetsrmydreams @the-sun-and-the-sea

[hotchley]

balls fair in love and war

So... this is the fic inspired by the AU in this post. Umm... it's a shambles, I low-key hate parts of it, the ending is rushed, but we're going with it before my laptop dies </3

Ignore any and all medical inaccuracies. I did a bit of research, but a lot of it confused me, so... this is not an accurate representation of a concussion. Like seriously. Also ignore any ethical issues, they're just... it's fine. As usual no proofreading. Umm.... don't ask where Rossi is. I don't know.

Taglist (I guess? I don't actually have one, it's just for this lol): @eldrai @willlemonheadsupremacy @shmaptainhotchnersmain @sarcvstiel @unionjackpillow @katytheinspiredworkaholic (you said you would read it so... is that okay?)

A very big and grateful thank you to @aaron-hotchner187 for giving me a title!! And to everyone else that gave suggestions, you are also much loved <3

Also, the way Hotch acts as a teacher is inspired by the way I think @ellyhotchner will be when they become a teacher <3 and everyone go and tell @whump-town thank you because she: told me about penlights, gave me the easy tiger line and is just overall a good person.

Trigger Warnings: concussions, fear of brain hemorrhages, hospitals, self-blame

read on ao3!

Like most things that went wrong in Aaron Hotchner’s life, his current predicament could be blamed on Emily Prentiss. He would not hear otherwise. And he didn’t think he should be forced to hear otherwise, given he was the one sitting on a hospital bed in a thin gown that did nothing to keep him warm, whilst she got to sit outside with a cup of coffee.

She had, admittedly, looked absolutely horrified when the accident occured, and had spent the whole journey to the hospital apologising again and again. He’s pretty sure she offered up her first-born child to him at some point as a form of penance. As well as her apartment. And he definitely remembers hearing something about grading his papers for him.

So whilst he may not want to be anywhere near her offspring- especially if they’re like her- and whilst he may definitely not want her apartment- he doesn’t care what she says, it is haunted- he will be taking her up on that last offer. Did he feel suitably appeased by her squirming the whole time, and by the fact that she was the one that had to explain to the principal why there were two classes screaming, crying and a teacher on the floor?

Yes, but there was no harm in milking it.

If he’s being completely honest, he felt like he was taking advantage of a hospital bed. He was sure he was fine. Yes, it hurts to move his head and he feels dizzy, and he probably has all the symptoms of a minor concussion, but he just really doesn’t want to be in the hospital.

Besides, he needs to make sure the kids aren't traumatised. It can’t have been easy for them, watching him just fall to the ground and hit his head hard enough for there to be blood. Emily could be traumatised, he didn’t care. But their students? Absolutely not.

He sighs. He wants to hand in his resignation now. Going back is going to be so embarrassing.

“I don’t think you understand. He is my best friend, and if he doesn’t get this blanket, he will- Spencer, what will he do if he doesn’t get this blanket?” A voice says from outside.

Aaron closes his eyes. He wants the ground to swallow him up. Forget returning to school, the next few minutes of his life are going to be even more embarrassing than the time Emily tricked him into being part of the Christmas pantomime. Haley hadn’t been offended, thank goodness, but still. It took him three months to be able to meet her eyes.

“He’ll- he’ll- I can’t even say it, it’s just so upsetting,” Spencer lies.

“Ma’am, sir, if you would let me speak for two seconds. Miss Prentiss said that some of her colleagues would be coming with Mr Hotchner’s things. All I am asking for is proof of identity,” the floor receptionist says.

The apologies immediately start to pour from the mouth of Penelope Garcia, whilst Spencer Reid just takes out both their driver's licences. The receptionist clearly approves, because before Aaron knows what’s happening, he’s being embraced by someone who smells like roses, and his favourite blanket is being draped over him.

“Oh my goodness, you don’t know how grateful I am that you’re alive,” Penelope says.

Aaron gives her a slight smile. Penelope is one of his favourite people, despite all their differences. And he likes to think he’s one of her favourites. He wouldn’t be thinking wrong.

“Penelope, I’m fine. Seriously. This is just a precaution. I promise it isn’t that bad,” he says, even though the light is starting to hurt his eyes.

“Isn’t that bad? I saw you and Emily taking your classes outside, which was weird to begin with because you both have classes that don’t require being outside, what were you doing? And then, I’m watching because the class can be trusted to sketch without my guidance and I’m curious. But then I turn my back for three seconds to help someone, and everyone is screaming, and you’re on the floor, and there’s blood everywhere and- it was scary!” she says.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron says, for lack of anything else to say.

“I don’t want you to be sorry! I want you to stop getting hurt!” Penelope exclaims, whacking him in the shoulder.

“I don’t want you to be sorry either. It was hilarious to watch, my students were in hysterics,” Spencer adds. Penelope glares.

Aaron isn’t surprised. Him and Spencer get on- they even have shared interests- but they also have some of the same classes. And as a result of the different subjects and ways they teach, it seems to them that it is impossible for their students to like them both.

“So, not that I don’t appreciate it, but why are you here?” He asks.

Spencer and Penelope glance at each other, and Hotch feels like he’s dealing with two students that have tried to set up two of his friends.

“Garcia. Reid,” he says. In the same tone he uses when dealing with two students that have tried to set up two of his friends.

“We thought that if we came, JJ wouldn’t, but uhh-” Spencer starts.

JJ bursts into the room before he can finish. “”Hotch! What happened? I mean, I’ve heard what happened because Strauss came and told me the basics, but still. Why were the two of you in the playground? Are you okay? Let me see that bump on your head. I also brought your lunch in case you were peckish.”

“Well basically-”

“Why does Emily look like she’s about to start crying?” Haley asks, entering.

Everyone but JJ turns and stares at her with a slight look of horror. Aaron slides down the bed slightly, hoping the blanket can cover the furious blush that he just knows stains his cheeks. Him and Haley went on a date once, after he asked her in a moment of impulsivity. It was the worst thing he’d ever done, for both of them.

“Oh come on guys, we’re professionals. JJ asked me to come because apparently, Aaron listens to me? I said he’s just too afraid of me to disobey. Which, I meant as a joke, but you do know that I don’t hate you right? Sure, the date was a disaster, but you do know we can still be friends?”

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he confesses.

“That’s why I brought her with me. To prove you wrong,” JJ says. “But yes, why is Emily so upset?”

“Because I almost killed my best friend and traumatised our students and I’ve ruined his life and our careers and he can get me fired and press charges, but all I wanted to do was make him laugh, and this is the first place where I’ve felt appreciated, and I’m going to lose it all,” Emily sobs from outside.

“Can you bring her in?” He asks Penelope.

She obliges, and Hotch pats the area next to him. Emily sits beside him, wiping her eyes on the corner of the extra blanket they brought.

“You didn’t almost kill me, it’s a mild concussion at most. Our students have seen worse, and they will be fine. My life is not ruined because you will be doing my grading. I’m not going to get you fired or press charges, and you’re not about to lose any of this. Okay?”

“You always know what to say,” she says.

He ruffles her hair.

“Love you. Platonically,” he tells her.

She gives him a bright smile, and he can feel himself smiling back, less embarrassed about everything.

And then she starts laughing hysterically, and deliberately shoves him, causing him to almost fall out of the bed, only stopped by Haley and Dave each grabbing one of his arms and pushing him back up. Of course, Emily just looks at him like she hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I cannot believe you fell for that. As if I would ever be that upset. Honestly. Haley, maybe I should replace you as drama teacher!”

Haley raises an eyebrow. “Ah yes, because the last time you got others involved in theatre, it ended so well.”

Emily has nothing to say.

Aaron does. He turns and swears in French.

“Naughty boy. Don’t let anyone else hear you. Especially not my class, I told them what that meant after you said it when I stole your stapler and then told you I’d given it to Miss Brooks.”

He pales.

“Speaking of your classes, how did this happen?” Haley asks, clearly sensing the need for a change in topic.

Emily looks at Aaron.

“It was your fault!” he says.

“Well it was your idea!” she counters.

He sighs. “So what happened was…”

Hotch and Emily’s classrooms are next to each other. To Hotch, this is both a blessing and a curse. It means he could keep an eye on her. It also means he had to keep an eye on her. See, Emily isn't irresponsible, and she would never actually endanger her students, but sometimes, she leans towards danger.

How, when she teaches modern languages, is beyond Hotch, but regardless. Strauss had actually hired Emily, not just for her abilities, but because she believed someone needed to keep an eye on Hotch. How the times have changed.

Hotch is on break duty, and he can't see anyone from his class. Which is weird. He tries to keep their lives as stress-free as possible, and he was always willing to help anyone that needs it, but certain assessments could not be avoided. But still, he expects to see at least one of them outside, if only to get a few minutes of fresh air.

Emily smiles at him sympathetically before she walks into her classroom. It is like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. Sympathy from Emily isn't comforting. Not when it was aimed at him. If anything, it just makes him more scared. The last time she had looked at him like that, he had explained how his date with Haley had gone from one disaster to another.

And then she laughed.

So he pushes the door open, stepping back in case something fell on him. It wouldn't have been the first time. But nothing does. So he steps into his classroom, expecting to see his eleventh grade literature class doing something suspicious.

They aren't, and suddenly he understands exactly why Emily had looked at him like that.

Because his class has never looked so upset or defeated. And his heart breaks for all of them. It has been a while since he was fifteen, but he wouldn't ever forget the feeling of helplessness that seemed to define his existence. Nor would he forget how everything felt like too much and not enough.

"What happened?" He asks them gently.

Violet, a quiet girl that always tells him what Miss Prentiss had said about him, burst into tears. One of her friends patted her back, but it's clear they didn't quite know what they were doing. Neither does Hotch, but goddammit, these are his kids. Nobody is going to hurt them.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you want to go somewhere else?" He asks her.

She shakes her head. "I just- I want all of this to be over, but then I don't because it means going to college and leaving here and having to grow up, but I just- I have no fucking idea what I'm doing and it's all too much."

He winces at the use of swear words, because he is still a teacher, but that also means he feels a sense of pride that she's able to voice what it is. Because now, he may not be able to fix the situation, but he can help.

"I know. That's okay. That's normal. And you'll work it out. You know, I almost became a lawyer."

She looks up, her eyes red, but starting to sparkle again. "A lawyer."

"Yep, I almost also applied to the FBI Academy. It was actually Miss Prentiss that talked me out of that one. Well, it wasn't really talking but the true story is a little too… inappropriate for school."

"I can't imagine you doing either of those. You'd get bored as a lawyer, and you would never smile as an FBI agent," Clarissa says.

Hotch blinks.

She shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then she offers him a piece of candyfloss, which he rejects.

He checks his lesson plan. And then his planner. And then the calendar he keeps on his table. Emily always makes fun of him for being so organised, but Spencer admires it, and that makes him feel cool, so he focuses on that instead.

"I have a compromise. We don't need to do a lesson today, we have more than enough time to cover everything because we're already ahead. I let you do whatever you want for the remainder of the lesson- whether that's colouring or crying or dancing. But you have to do it outside. I didn't see any of you at break."

"Really?" Violet asks.

He nods. "Of course."

Everyone cheers, and grabs their bags, clearly ready to not use their brains for a bit. Aaron gives them the most warm smile he can manage, but he can't help the small surge of guilt that accompanies his lack of realisation.

As his class exits, happily chattering away to each other, Emily pokes her head out the door.

"Mr Hotch, what are you doing, and can I join?"

Immediately, all eyes are on him.

"Please?" Violet asks.

Clarissa pulls out the puppy eyes.

Thomas falls to his knees.

"Oh my god, yes fine, okay, just- everyone be quiet before Strauss finds out and shouts at me," he says.

Emily runs back inside, and soon, they're all just milling about and having fun on the playground. It's nice, both for the students, and the teachers, to have a bit of a break from the world, and to spend a few moments away from it all. Some of them are running around, playing a game of tag, some of them are simply sitting around, and a few are colouring.

"Do you still like playing catch?" Emily asks him.

"What?"

"Catch. Remember, you used to play it with Sean all the time when we were in college."

"I mean yeah, I would probably get involved, but I'm not quite sure-"

"Think fast!" She shouts, and she lobs a netball at him.

The last thing he thinks, moments before his head meets the ground with a large amount of force- enough for there to be a small amount of blood- is: how is it always her? Every single time he gets into a situation, it's her that causes it. That has to be statistically impossible. Maybe he should ask Spencer…

"So yeah! And now I'm here!" He shoves Emily, who has the audacity to look offended.

Penelope kisses his forehead. Haley laughs a little, but Reid just blinks like he can't quite believe how stupid his co-workers are.

"Well. From what I've heard, it was a pretty good shot," JJ comments.

Haley turns to her. "From everything we've just been told, that's what you choose to pick out?"

"I'm a gym teacher, can you really blame me?"

Emily mutters something.

"You were what?" Garcia asks.

"I was aiming for his leg," she repeats.

"Emily. I know you teach languages, not biology, but look at me. Head," Hotch says, pointing at the bump he's not going to cover up, "Leg." He points at his ankle.

"It's always lovely when people know their anatomy. Saves me a lot of time," a new voice says.

Hotch turns in the direction of it, ready to make a snarky comment, but whatever words he had thought of die on his lips as he suddenly feels like he's been transported into a medical drama full of unrealistically attractive protagonists.

Because the doctor who has just walked in is the most handsome man he has ever seen. His smile is easy and genuine, and his eyes seem to twinkle with mischief. And his arms, oh god his arms seem like the safest place to exist. Aaron can't help but wonder what it would be like to have those arms wrapped around him-

His cheeks warm. No.

"Hi, I'm Dr Morgan. But you can all call me Derek. I'm here for Aaron Hotchner. Who I am going to assume, is you," he says, looking straight at Hotch.

"I- yes. How did you know?"

Dr Morgan- Derek- somehow smiles even more. "Well, even though there are far too many people in here- did all of you somehow miss the two people at one time sign- you are the only one in a hospital bed wearing a hospital gown, so. I'm no profiler, but it was pretty easy."

If it's even possible, his cheeks flush more. But one word sticks out to him. "Wait, profiler?"

"You got me. Crime procedurals are my guilty pleasure. I always said that if I joined the FBI, I would become a profiler. Obviously, I went down a very different route."

"Obviously. Wait, too many people? Oh god, I'm so, so sorry, if you need them to leave, they can. In fact, I also feel a lot better, so if you would like me to also go, I really, it's no trouble."

Because he is an idiot- there really is no other justification for this- he tries to stand up. And he does. He also gets a few steps in before the world starts spinning and he almost loses his balance. Derek somehow moves fast enough to guide him back to the bed. Aaron tries and fails to ignore how warm he is.

"Thanks," he whispers, slightly breathless. And not just from almost hurting himself again.

"It's not a problem Aaron. Both things. Your friends can stay, we're just doing some simple checks," Derek says.

"Oh everyone calls him Hotch," Penelope says.

"Aaron is fine. Really." Because he likes Derek calling him Aaron. He wants Derek to call him Aaron.

And then he meets Emily's eyes and he realises his mistake. There's a common denominator that exists with everyone that he tells to call him Aaron, and he knows that she knows what it is. He's fucked.

"Okay then. Well, can you explain to me what happened?"

Aaron is mesmerised by Derek's eyes. So mesmerised that he forgets to answer. "Sorry, what?"

There's a flash of concern, replaced by a smile. "Can you tell me how you ended up here?"

"Oh yes. So, I'm a teacher- so is everyone here. And I- I was outside, with my- my students when Emily- that one there- she, look, it's a really mild concussion, can I just be discharged? I'm sure my students are very, uhh, very scared," he stutters. Why can he never function when he likes someone? It's mortifying.

"I'm sure it is, but you can't blame me for doing my job. I'm going to take your heart rate now, okay? The stethoscope will be cold, but it'll warm up eventually," Derek says.

Aaron nods, and barely flinches when it touches him. If anything, he's more concerned by how close Derek seems to be. Not in a malicious way, but he's always had this deeply irrational fear that if someone got too close to him, they'd be able to read his thoughts. Which would mean Derek can hear both the fact that he has a crush and that he has this fear.

Derek pulls away, and Aaron exhales.

"Your heart rate is unusually fast. Normally that wouldn't be too concerning, because we expect that when patients seem anxious, but you've seemed pretty calm, up till this moment," Derek says, noting how Aaron tenses.

"Is he going to be okay?" Penelope asks.

Derek turns to her. "Of course he is. He's in good hands."

Aaron needs to get his mind out the gutter before his cheeks explode. Or before Emily opens her mouth.

"Aaron, I know you think the concussion is mild, but this is still a requirement. I'm going to turn on this penlight, and I'm going to ask you to follow it with your eyes okay? Follow the light," Derek explains.

He nods, and Derek turns the penlight on. Aaron flinches at the brightness of it, then tenses in slight fear that his lovely doctor is going to be annoyed at him or call him difficult, or sigh and say he needs to stop acting like a child. It wouldn't be the first time,

But Derek doesn't do any of those things. He does something very different.

He places his hand on Aaron's thigh. "Easy tiger. I won't hurt you," he says.

Aaron melts. His eyes drop down to where Derek's hand is warming his skin. He thinks Derek says his name, but he's too busy having a crush to hear him. And then suddenly, his thigh is cold, but Derek is touching his shoulder and he should be shying away from the light being shone in his eyes. But he isn't because he's too busy looking at Derek and his beautiful eyes to even pay attention.

Rather late, he remembers that there is a reason for Derek to be looking at him the way he is, and he tries to follow the light. But the headache he's had since he came around is only getting worse, and the light isn't helping.

Derek isn't smiling anymore.

"Aaron. Be very honest with me. You've displayed difficulty with coordination, memory and speech. If I asked you whether or not you felt sick or nauseous, what would your answer be?"

Normally, he would just under exaggerate, but Derek seems to genuinely care. So he chooses to be honest.

"Yes?"

Derek's eyes widen. "Aaron, I don't want to alarm you, but I like to keep my patients informed. You're going to have a CT scan done immediately, and there's a chance you may be rushed into emergency surgery."

Everyone, including Emily, starts to panic, but Derek leaves the room to grab a nurse to help, and to tell someone else to make sure there's a clear room. Aaron isn't completely sure what's happening, but his head is killing him, so he lays down again. It only helps a small amount.

For Aaron, the CT scan isn't too bad. If he knew the reason it was being done, and that it wasn't a routine procedure, he would probably have spent the whole time panicking. But he doesn't, and so he sits there- well lies there- with a slight smile on his face. The migraine he's had has been getting worse, so keeping his eyes closed for such an extended period of time is actually quite enjoyable.

It is far less enjoyable for everyone that is upstairs, waiting to find out whether or not their friend has a brain hemorrhage. That's what Derek told them after Aaron was carted away, still seeming very out of it. They needed to test him for a brain bleed. And if he had one, then it would just be a case of waiting to see whether they could treat him. And even if they could treat him, it wasn't guaranteed that he would get back to normal.

Emily, in spite of all of her teasing comments, isn't coping. Because it's still early, the floor is relatively quiet, and Derek is technically on his lunch break, so he's sitting with them in an attempt to provide them with some sort of comfort. He's not sure where this emotional attachment to these random people has come from, but it's formed itself and now he's determined to provide some comfort.

"I really was aiming for his leg," Emily whispers.

"Hmm?" Derek asks, not quite following.

"When I threw the ball, I really was aiming for his leg. He had lost consciousness by this point, but I started crying when he hit the ground. He forgave me. He told me he loved me, platonically that is, and I laughed at him. He's going to die, and he isn't going to know how much he meant to me."

"He's not going to die. He may not even have a brain bleed. But if he does, we're going to save him, and you're going to be able to spend the rest of your life telling him how much he means to you. I promise," Derek says.

Even though there are tears in her eyes, Emily turns to him and smiles. "You're a good man, Dr Morgan."

"That's all I've ever wanted, Miss Prentiss. So thank you. It means a lot to me." And it does. He replays the moment as he goes over to Spencer and Penelope, who he feels a strange sense of protection over. Like he needs to protect them from everything, which is weird, because once Aaron is discharged, he'll probably never see them again.

That shouldn't make him sad, but it does.

"Mr Hotchner's CT scan came back normal. There's no sign of a brain bleed," the nurse tells them, what feels like a lifetime later.

There's a collective sigh of relief, and when he's wheeled back in, looking tired but alive, Emily throws her arms around her best friend, who lets out a soft sound of surprise. Like he's not quite used to the fact that people love him. Derek smiles. His patient will be in good hands when he gets discharged.

"Wait, so what caused all of those problems?" Spencer asks.

The nurse shrugs. "It's probably as simple as: his concussion was more severe than we initially thought, but not as bad as we feared."

"Oh."

"And on that note, Aaron, we're keeping you overnight for observation. It's just to be safe. We can't be too careful. You gave everyone a very big scare when you got sent out," Derek says.

Aaron cannot, and will not, confess. Does he feel guilty? Yes. But he can live with the guilt. He cannot live with the all-encompassing shame that will come with explaining that actually, the reason he was stuttering and failing the penlight test was because of a silly little crush.

"Okay," he says, determined to be as compliant as possible.

"One- and only one- of you is welcome to stay with him, if you'd like," Derek adds.

Haley's eyes light up. "I'll do it! Jessica can bring me my things, and maybe you'll be able to look at me after we've spent another night together. Only this time, nobody's getting pneumonia. I hope so, at least. You're not cold are you?"

Aaron shakes his head. "But you really don't need to stay. I'll be fine on my own. Seriously."

"I know, but I want to. Believe it or not, I do actually enjoy your company."

He smiles.

"We should all be getting a move on. Jason and Erin will want updates, and I have lots of marking," JJ says. She kisses Hotch on the forehead before walking to the door, smiling at Derek for looking after her friend so well.

Spencer waves from where he's standing and Penelope showers him with affection. Emily is the only one that seems hesitant to leave.

"Can I stay till visiting hours end?" She asks.

"Do you feel like you can keep up with these two lovely ladies Aaron?" Derek asks.

Aaron has never enjoyed the sound of his name as much as he does when it comes from the doctor. "I- sure," he stutters, and he just knows his cheeks are a stupid colour. Emily frowns, as though she finds something suspicious.

Derek smiles. "Good man. I'll be back in a few hours to run the same tests as before. For now, take it easy."

Derek doesn't come back a few hours later, because he has other patients. It's a different doctor, and Aaron is both relieved and disappointed. Because on the one hand, he's not going to create another medical crisis, on the other, he wants to see Derek again.

Maybe he can get Emily to knock him out again…

"Your heart rate seems completely normal. And you followed the penlight exceptionally well, so I believe we have nothing to fear. Of course, you'll stay overnight, and we'll run these tests once more before you're discharged tomorrow, but I think we're out of the woods now," they say.

Emily gasps, and Aaron knows he's screwed. Luckily, both the doctor and Haley seem to not have heard, and she leaves with the doctor, so Aaron doesn't have to know right at that moment whether his suspicions are correct.

"Night Hotchner," Haley says a few minutes later.

Hotch is already asleep.

The entire team comes and collects him from the hospital.

Aaron is just grateful they're sending him home with a pack of all the things he now needs to do, because he spent the whole lecture admiring how handsome Derek looks with sun shining down on him that he didn't take any of it in. It's also Derek's signature on the discharge papers. He's reminded of high school, when he and his friends would make fake marriage certificates. Not that he's going to do that.

"Bye Aaron. I don't want to see you here any time soon, okay?" Derek teases.

"I won't make any promises," he replies, just relieved he does it without stuttering or blushing.

Derek smiles, and the twinkle in his eyes seems even more mischievous. "Miss Prentiss," he says, spotting Emily.

"Dr Morgan," she responds. She's smirking.

When Aaron asks her what was going on, she doesn't answer. Haley says it's probably linked to the emotions of the previous day, and she's usually good at reading these situations, so he doesn't push any further. Besides, he's too busy catching up with the meetings he missed, and the antics of his students, because a lot happened in the three days he was off, to give it much thought.

Two weeks pass, and the incident is almost completely forgotten.

But then he walks back into his classroom, having just finished a meeting, and he finds flowers on his desk. Tulips. His favourite. He immediately pulls the note out, and when he opens it, he almost wonders if he's concussed it.

Because he knows that signature. He's been staring at it for fourteen days. It's Derek's.

"Surprise. Aaron," a voice says for the doorway.

"How- what- I- what?"

Derek Morgan, still in scrubs and a white coat, smiles at him. "Want to pick a question I can actually answer?"

"How did you- what are you doing here? And why?"

"Well, you should thank Emily. After the other doctor took your heart rate, she came and told me her suspicion. Apparently, you always say you're Hotch. Even the students call you Mr Hotch. Which is strange, because I call you Aaron. And, you shouldn't have done the penlight flawlessly if you had a more severe concussion. So she thinks you have a crush. I didn't want to be unethical, so those flowers can simply mean: I hope you're coping. If you don't have a crush that is."

"What if I do?" Aaron asks, surprised at his own boldness.

"Then I would ask if I could kiss you before I take you out to dinner," Derek says, not missing a beat.

"And if I said yes?"

Derek takes three long strides, and he kisses Aaron like it's something he was made to do. Aaron melts against him, trying to memorise him as quickly as he can, before he realises he has all the time in the world to do that. Because Derek is going to take him out to dinner. Derek, who brought him flowers.

"That was- wow. Wait. You have a crush on me too!" Aaron exclaims with a grin.

"Of course I do," Derek says.

That stuns Aaron back into silence. "Wow," he whispers to himself.

Derek hugs him, and being in his arms is everything- no more- than Aaron imagined it to be. "I'm glad you're okay," he says.

"I'm glad you don't hate me," Aaron says, because he really doesn't know what else to say.

Derek laughs, and Aaron can't wait to find all the ways he can make that happen.

"We should say thank you to Emily at some point. If she didn't know you as well as she does, she wouldn't have realised you had a crush. And if she wasn't so terrifying when she wants something good for her friends, I wouldn't have sent the flowers."

"Can we say thank you later? I want to stay like this for a few moments," Aaron whispers, snuggling closer to his new boyfriend.

"Of course we can," Derek says, kissing his forehead.

When they eventually make it to Derek's car- Aaron can come back tomorrow and get his, it'll be fine, Aaron realises he has one more thing to say.

"Derek?"

"Yes, sweetness?"

Well. That makes him feel things he won't confess too, because he needs something to make him seem the slightest bit cool.

"I'm really sorry I made you think I had a brain hemorrhage."

Derek's laughter is so real that Aaron can't help but join in, and they end up not starting the car for five minutes because it would be irresponsible to drive in that state. And it's only when they're pulling out that they both realise something: Derek gets to see Aaron's family again, and Emily didn't need to hit him in the head again for him to get to see Derek again.

[deascheck]

A Better Release

Summary: After Sam and Dean save you from a Wendigo, you hide in your bathroom and release your overwhelming panic and fear in the only way you know how- hurting yourself. Sam and Dean follow up and find you bloody, and decide to show you a better way to release your emotions.

Word count: 2749

Warnings: self harm!!

THIS COULD BE VERY TRIGGERING. HEED THE WARNINGS IF THIS IS A SENSITIVE TOPIC FOR YOU.

A/N: Inspired by @samdeancass ‘s story Panic Attack, which you can find under Sam Winchester on the pinned Masterlist. As someone who has struggled with self harm in the past, I know all too well the addiction of the release it offers. I wanted to write a fic that simultaneously offers alternatives to that action, and helps people who struggle with it realize they aren’t alone in going through the struggle of self harm.

@waywardimpalawriter @that-one-gay-girl @winchest09 I thought you guys might be interested in reading this!

You couldn’t believe your eyes. A monster that had all but killed you was burning, shot by a flare gun. The two men who had saved you had come out of nowhere. They must have been tracking the thing that had you trapped and bound.

“Are you alright?” The taller one asked.

Still in shock, you nodded. The monster, a Wendigo you’d heard them say, hadn’t had a chance to seriously hurt you.

“Let’s get you home then….?” The shorter one trailed off, clearly inquiring your name.

“Y/N,” you managed to get out. “My name is Y/N.”

“Sorry to meet under these circumstances, Y/N. My name is Sam, and that’s my brother Dean,” said the taller man. His hair was much longer than his brother’s, you observed.

You shook their hands, still trembling, and accepted the ride home. You gave Dean your address and sat back in your seat, staring into nothing as you tried to process what had happened.

Sam and Dean didn’t say much as Dean drove. You were clearly in shock and they didn’t want to press you, which you appreciated.

When they pulled into your driveway, you got out and numbly thanked them for saving you and for the ride. You then walked up to the front door and went inside.

Once inside, it was like your dam broke. You sank against the closed door and sobbed. The fear, the panic, the shock, all washed over you like a massive wave, drowning you as it surged. You felt overwhelmed and almost felt like you didn’t know what to physically do with yourself. Then the thought entered your head. Almost like it came in the back door of your mind, it slunk in. A dark thought.

You stood up and walked to the bathroom, needing a release. You opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a knife. You knew you had a problem if you were keeping your knife in the damn bathroom, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s what long sleeves and long pants were for.

Sitting against the bathtub, you crossed your legs Indian style and stretched out your arm across your knee, a couple paper towels under your arm. You took the knife in your hand and slowly dragged it across your forearm, a thick line of blood following the blade. The sharp pain was a sweet release. You threw your head back in relief as the pain washed over you and the blood dribbled down your arm. Your fear and shock began to fade. Eager for another release, you drew another, deeper line. This time blood easily flowed from the cut, soaking the paper towels underneath your arm and dripping down your leg. You sighed at the feel of the physical pain overtaking your emotional pain. You drew the blade across your arm one more time, the deepest cut yet. A steady stream of blood started pooling on the floor.

You realized you had gone too deep, but you didn’t care. All you wanted to feel was the sharp, throbbing pain of your new lacerations. Your vision started going fuzzy, and your brain knew it was from blood loss.

All of a sudden, almost as if in the distance, you heard your front door bang open and the sounds of heavy, hurried footsteps rang through the house. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had no idea who would have barged through your locked front door but you were too weak to do anything about it.

“Y/N!! Oh my god. Sam!” Dean crouched down beside you and wrapped his handkerchief around your deepest cut. His hands and his handkerchief quickly became slick with blood. Dean patted your face quickly, trying to keep you alert. “Y/N! Stay with me, ya hear? We’ve got you.” But it was no use. You had passed out.

By then Sam had gotten to the bathroom and looked down in shock at the amount of blood his brother was crouching in.

“Dammit. My handkerchief is too thin! Sam! Go grab the first aid kit from the car. We’ve gotta stitch her up,” Dean snapped.

Sam disappeared for a couple minutes before returning with the kit tucked in his arm. He set it on the sink’s counter and opened it quickly. Sam pulled out a needle and some thread and crouched next to Dean. “Let me do it,” he said. “I’m better at this than you are.”

Dean shifted so that Sam had full access. Dean lifted your arm to set it on his knee so that it was elevated and Sam could reach it easier. Sam started with the third cut, working as quickly and effectively as he could. Once the cut was stitched, he moved to the other two cuts. In minutes, he’d finished and they both sighed in relief. You’d remained out of it for the duration of the experience, but you were slowly starting to come to.

Your eyes opened and your vision started coming back. Your eyes came into focus and saw the two brothers crouched in front of you, worry etched on their faces.

“Umm. What are you guys doing? Why are you in my house?” You asked weakly.

Dean answered first. “Well, you were so out of it in the car, we were worried about you going into full shock. So after we left, we decided to turn around and check on you to make sure you were going to be ok before we left for good.” He looked at you with an unreadable look on his face. “I’m glad we turned around.”

Sam continued, “When you didn’t answer the door, we figured something was wrong. I mean, we hadn’t dropped you off that long ago, and we were worried maybe you were having shock symptoms.”

You smiled weakly. “Nope, no shock symptoms.”

Dean rolled his eyes so hard his whole head moved. “Look, sweetheart, this?” he motioned at the mess and at your arm. “This is not healthy. If we hadn’t shown up when we did, you could be dead right now. We saved you! You know why? So you could LIVE! Not so you could live, then kill yourself!” His voice was growing heated, though you could tell he was trying to keep his cool.

“Clearly you need a way to release negative emotions,” Sam said softly. “Am I right?”

You nodded, somewhat sheepishly. “I know this isn’t healthy. I know it’s dangerous. And clearly I went too far with it this time. But you don’t understand,” you replied, keeping your voice low. “This erases all the emotions I don’t want to deal with. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. The physical pain takes over and for those short, sweet moments, it’s all I know.”

Dean tilted his head, getting an idea. “You say it’s physical pain you want? I have an idea. Come on,” he stood and lifted you with him, grunting as he did. “You’re gonna come with us. But first, we’re gonna clean you up, and then we’ll go.”

He released you and you swayed on your feet, unsteady from the blood loss. “Woah there,” he said quickly. “On second thought, why don’t you sit, and we’ll take care of this.” Dean scooped you up, blood and all, and took you to the kitchen and sat you down.

Sam followed with the first aid kit, and asked, “Where are your washcloths and towels?”

“In the linen closet to the right of the bathroom,” you responded with what little strength you had.

Sam returned with a couple wet washcloths and a towel. Dean took the wet washcloths from him and gently started wiping your arm clean of the blood. Once it was cleaned to Dean’s satisfaction, he took the other washcloth and gingerly started wiping the blood from your legs. Sam looked at his brother with surprise on his face. He rarely saw this side of Dean.

You watched Dean as he wiped your legs clean, and quietly said, “Thank you, Dean.”

He merely nodded as he worked, but you could tell he was relaxing because his shoulders started to look less tense.

When the blood was all but gone, Dean told you to go get into a fresh set of clothes while he and Sam got everything cleaned up in the bathroom. Your eyes filled with tears at their kindness but you did as Dean asked.

You went to your room, tears running down your face. You pulled out a pair of loose, gray sweatpants and a baggy long-sleeved t-shirt and put them on, carefully putting your injured arm through the sleeve. Curiosity at what Dean had planned for you kept your thoughts busy as you dressed. You almost found yourself hurrying, interested to know where the brothers would take you.

Once the boys had cleaned up the bathroom for you, the three of you met back in the kitchen.

“Ready to go?” asked Dean with his eyebrows raised.

“I guess so,” you responded honestly.

“Good. Let’s head out,” said Dean. He opened the front door for you and Sam and followed you out, locking the door on his way out.

Sam opened the Impala’s backseat door for you, and you thanked him as you got in. Sam and Dean piled in and you were off.

They didn’t say much as they drove, only that it was going to be a solid four hour drive. You listened to the music playing, which you found amazing. It was a beautiful collection of classic rock. You knew a few of the songs, and found yourself humming along. One song, “Night Moves” by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band, had you singing out loud, with the boys looking pleased as they sang with you. As you sang, you found yourself releasing all the pent up emotion you had and channeling it through your voice into the song. It almost felt passionate. You realized this was a good release. This was healthy. And effective. This was something that could replace your blade. You finished the song with gusto, pleased with yourself for having found something that you enjoyed enough to be able to use as a coping strategy. You wished you’d thought of it years ago.

Dean smiled as he listened to you sing. You had a pretty voice, and you weren’t afraid to belt it out. Sam also had a grin on his face as he thought about how much better of a headspace you were already in.

The drive went by in a blurred mix of singing and sleeping. When it came to an end, Sam and Dean found you slumped over sideways, sound asleep against the leather of the backseat.

Dean opened your door and gently shook you awake, mindful of your arm. “Y/N? We’re here. You gotta wake up now,” he said tenderly.

You slowly woke up, blinking blearily up at him. “Already? Wow. Ok,” you said sleepily.

You hopped out of the car and stretched. You were in a massive garage with multiple old fashioned cars and a couple motorcycles. Your eyes went wide as you took it all in.

Sam and Dean laughed at your expression. “Welcome to our home, Y/N,” said Sam proudly.

They led you to the main area of what turned out to be a bunker. Dean said, “Y/N, follow me. I’m going to show you a good way to release some emotions.”

You blushed faintly but followed him meekly down the stairs. He led you to a gym area and over to a punching bag. “Now,” he stated, “I’m no pro at releasing emotions in a healthy way. I tend to shove them down and pretend they don’t exist by punching walls and drinking whiskey for breakfast. But your response to negative emotions? That could kill you, and we aren’t having none of that. So, put these on.” Dean handed you a pair of gloves. Obediently, you put them on.

“Ok, now put your hands up in front of your face like this.” He demonstrated. “Good! Now, punch the bag using your good arm. Don’t want to be ripping none of Sam’s stitches now.”

You punched the bag as hard as you could with your non-injured arm and instantly felt better. You looked at him with a smile as he steadied the bag. “Good punch, Y/N,” he praised. “Now, do it again.” You punched the bag once more. This was something you could get used to.

“I like this,” you told Dean. “A lot. It feels good. Like, a release just rushes out of me when my fist impacts the bag.”

He smiled. “Sweetheart, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to feel like.”

You smiled back demurely and said, “I’m going to get myself one of these.”

Dean nodded in approval and quietly guided you back up to the main room of the bunker. Sam was waiting for you there with something in his hand.

“My turn,” he said.

Dean smirked. “I leave you in my brother’s capable hands, Y/N. I’ll be in the kitchen with a beer when you’re done.”

You acknowledged his comment and turned to Sam, waiting.

Sam put a journal on the table. “This,” he said. “Is one way I release my emotions.”

You looked at him. “You write?” “I do,” he said

You looked at him inquisitively. “Ok,” you replied hesitantly. “What do I write about?”

He smiled broadly. “Anything and everything,” he answered honestly. “I tend to write about our hunts. I write about the lore I learn about, the situation we find ourselves in… I write a bit more informatively, but it’s still a release for me. It acknowledges everything I’m feeling by creating a place of information. I don’t know if that makes sense,” he ducked his head shyly.

“No,” you said. “I like that idea.” With that, Sam handed you a pen and pushed the journal towards you. “It’s yours,” he said. “Give it a try.”

You nodded and sat down. You opened the journal to the first page and wrote “Y/N Y/L/N” and flipped the page. Thinking as you wrote, you started to write about your experience with the Wendigo, and about how the boys saved you. You wrote about everything you felt and what went through your mind. You wrote about your response to your emotions and about how Sam and Dean were offering you other methods of releasing your emotions. You wrote about how you discovered one on your own; singing. You wrote for the better part of two hours before you stopped.

Sighing, you put your pen down, feeling immensely better. You felt like you’d acknowledged everything you’d been feeling, and that by putting it down on paper, it was real but not necessarily defining you.

Sam looked up from the book that he was reading and smiled. “Done?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly. “That was fantastic.”

“I’m so glad you liked it. Do you feel better?” he asked with concern.

“I really do. Between the singing, the punching, and the writing, I feel completely in control and balanced.” And it was true. You felt validated and whole.

“Excellent,” he praised. “Let’s go find Dean and we can talk about next steps.”

You thought about what he said as he led you to the kitchen. Next steps? What could that mean?

Dean lifted his head up when the two of you entered the kitchen. He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “How’re you feelin’, sweetheart?”

“Much better,” you said softly. “Thank you, Sam, Dean. I mean it. I wouldn’t be here, let alone alive, if it weren’t for you two.”

“About being here,” said Sam. He looked at Dean who nodded at him. “I think you should stay here, with us, Y/N. You can use us as your support system, and you can help us prepare for hunts with research and stuff.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?”

Dean chuckled. “What do you say, kiddo?”

You nodded vigorously, trying not to cry. You pulled Dean up by his hand, and grabbed Sam and pulled him over to you. You wrapped your arms around their waists and hugged them together, unable to formulate words of gratitude. They put their arms around your shoulders and squeezed you gently, letting you know they had your back.

You could tell already, they were your new family. You were going to be alright.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Longing

Chapter 1

Description: Chris Evans becomes obsessed with you when he realises he can't have you. Eager to be with you in some form or the other, he starts writing fanfiction, where both of you are passionately in love with each other. But what happens when his imagination starts to merge with his reality in his subconsciousness?

Warnings: This entire mini-series will contain smut, bad language and angst. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This first chapter is inspired by the GIF below from @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 's ShamelessHoesForChris writing challenge. Click here to know more

A/N: I do not know Chris Evans personally. This fic is a work of imagination and should only be used as such. It doesn't comment on Chris or anybody else personally. It is also not meant to destroy his reputation or paint him in a bad light. I admire the guy and he really seems like a genuinely nice person. Again, I repeat, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO TREAT IT AS SUCH!

A/N 2: I did search quite a lot on the internet and didn't come across a fic like this. Which makes me nervous and also kind of excited that I get to do something unique? Please please give me your criticism and feedback on this! Would love to hear your thoughts.

A/N 3: I have used a few big words throughout the series because this fic is from Chris' POV and we all know that he's a bit of a wordsmith 😅 I had never even heard these words before in my life. So please let me know if I have used them in an incorrect manner. 

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…

The best thing about shooting Defending Jacob? Chris got to stay in his house in Boston. The worst part about working on the set? He was currently stuck in a room engulfed in hot, angry flames of fire. The fire had abruptly started due to a short circuit and spread across the set in the blink of an eye. Coughing, Chris doubled down on the floor, his breathing becoming more laboured with each second. 

The smoke stung his eyes as he looked around for a fire extinguisher. He tried calling for help, but only small grunts managed to escape his lips. Just as he was on the verge of losing consciousness, he heard a voice. Your voice.

"Is anyone here?" you called out, your voice faint in his ears. "Hello?" 

Chris tried to shout again, but only sank further towards the floor.

Luckily, you opened the door of his room and found his almost crumpled body on the ground. Using the fire extinguisher, you managed to douse as many flames as you could, while also covering Chris with a thick blanket. As the room was still filled with smoke, you pressed a wet towel on his face, asking him to breathe through his nose. 

Slowly, you managed to drag him out of the room and into the corridor, the fire reduced to embers in most places thanks to your fire extinguisher. Chris being a heavy man, you tried your best to support his weight as much as you could, your body almost stooping to form a right angle.

Just as you thought you might be in the clear, you heard a crack from above. Looking up, you realised that the ceiling was about to cave in and so, on impulse, you pushed Chris out of the way, as portions of the false ceiling fell on you, knocking you unconscious. 

Chris, in his state, vaguely realised what happened, before he lost his balance and fell to the ground a few feet away from you, his left arm stretched towards your limp body, as if reaching out.

Sirens of the firetruck and the ambulance filled the heavy air. A deep groan escaped his lips as he attempted to crawl towards you, a failed effort. Where did it all go so wrong? he thought. I was supposed to be the one to save you angel! You should be falling in love with me!! And break-up with your good for nothing fiancé! 

Overwhelmed with emotions, Chris started drifting off to sleep, your name leaving his lips in the form of a desperate whisper.

🔥

8 MONTHS AGO

Chris met you for the first time at the table read for Defending Jacob. You didn't strike him as anyone special. Being the Junior Assistant Scriptwriter for the series, you were just in the room as a formality. It was your job to jot down the minutes of the meeting, and have the parts of the script marked which were supposed to be changed slightly. 

You managed to stay invisible for more such meetings. An introvert by nature, you kept to yourself even when the shooting started. 

It was in the Week 4 of the shooting when Chris actually started to notice you. He realised you were always absent from his house parties, never stayed around on the set for after-work shenanigans and, you never hung out with any of your crew-mates for a drink.

What really drove his attention towards you were your random acts of kindness. He once saw you feeding a homeless man in the alley behind the set. Unknown to you, it was where Chris often hid from his cast and crew to smoke. 

Then there was the bit with setting up of a mobile blood donation camp on the set, which was completely your idea. He had also seen you distribute fliers for animal adoption centres and NGOs who fought for climate preservation.

You always made sure everyone on the set ate before you did, and the ones who couldn't due to work, you were sure to help them and share their load so they could have lunch.

But one particular incident made him see that you were no ordinary woman. 

It was a particularly tough day on the set. They were shooting the 35-second sex scene between him and Michelle. While these scenes looked easy on the screen, they always made Chris feel uneasy about himself. "What if my body is not upto the mark?" , "I don't want to hurt Michelle in any way" , "God I hope I don't touch her inappropriately by mistake" and more such troubling thoughts clawed at his mind. After the scene finally ended, he felt the lustful eyes of the crew feasting on him, admiring his body on display. 

He hurried towards his van, avoiding to look at anyone, until his eyes met yours for a total of 5 seconds. He expected to see the same smirk to be reflected in your eyes as everyone else's. Instead, he saw a completely different emotion. He saw sadness, sympathy, and most importantly, recognition of his discomfort etched on your face.

After that, Chris started to keep a close eye on you. You always wore comfortable clothes, with loads of pockets. Yet somehow, they always fit you well. He also noticed that you always got your own lunch, refusing to eat the food available on the set. 

A few days after filming the sex scene, he decided to try to speak with you. Palms sweaty, he headed towards you and gently said your name. 

"Hi," he said, and stopped. 

"Hello Mr Evans," you greeted him back, a little surprised that he knew your name. 

He continued to look at you, bright cerulean eyes bearing into yours, apparently lost. You blinked twice, unfazed, and a little uncomfortable, "Can I help you sir?"

Chris shook his head slightly. He was so used to women fawning all over him, that your utter lack of excitement on seeing him deterred him a bit. 

He cleared his throat, a little flustered, *Ahem yeah… I wanted to ask… something… karaoke!" he managed to mumble, "It's karaoke night at my house. Tomorrow. Will you come? At night?"

"Umm… No Mr Evans. I am sorry I will not be able to make it," you politely declined while taking a small step back.

"Oh. Uhh… well we can have it any other night if you want," he cleared his throat again, sweat starting to gather on his forehead as he noticed your movement, "You never visit any of my house-parties."

You smiled a bit, "I like to go home early. I want to spend as much time as I can with my fiancé and my cat."

Chris raised his eyebrows at that revelation, "Fiancé? I… I don't see a ring."

"That's because there isn't one," your smile widened as you pulled the chain around your neck and revealed a locket. It was an intricately carved sunflower locket, with small, delicate curls nestled inside the petals. 

Chris glanced at it with disdain. It looked hand-made, cheap, "Is that… is it made from clay?"

"Yes Mr Evans," you beamed at the locket, admiring it with love and pride, "My fiancé is a potter and he made this himself. It took him over 6 hours just to carve all the petals. But he still made it because he knows how much I love sunflowers."

"So he's too poor to give you an appropriate ring?" Chris snapped at you. 

Offended, you looked at him in shock and anger as he continued. "You deserve someone who can afford to give you an expensive engagement ring. Not some cheap craft project."

You grit your teeth at his comment, "Unlike some people, I don't look at the price of the gifts, I look at their value. While this," you held the locket in front of his eyes, "is worthless for you, it is priceless for me."

You placed the locket back inside your shirt and walked away. Chris stood rooted at the spot, biting his cheek hollow. He hadn't meant to drive you away. He had just wanted you to see him as a prospective partner. 

As he turned towards his trailer, an idea popped into his head.

🔥

Next Friday saw you and your fiancé walk into the bowling alley. The production house had organised a "Bring Your Partner to Work Day" and you both were excited to step out of your routine lives. 

A few people on the set recognised your fiancé Aiden from his YouTube channel. Kenneth, an Assistant Set Designer, drooled over him, "Maaahhnnn! I love your pottery videos! They are so calming dude. How do you make them so relaxing?"

The ever shy and soft-spoken Aiden gushed at the compliment, turning a shade of red which you always found adorable. Aiden was almost the same height as you, with a lean figure and a kind, freckled face. Your friends always told you that Aiden's looks were nothing to brag about, but you disagreed. Because for you, this man was the most handsomest, cutest and sexiest person in the world. 

And you knew he felt the same way about you. That's why, even after being together for almost 5 years now, you two still looked at each other with heart eyes.

As the party progressed, you made sure to avoid Chris, and so far, you were successful. That was until he softly said your name. 

With dread in your stomach, you and Aiden turned around to face the man. Aiden knew of your previous encounter with Chris, and tried to square his shoulders as much as possible, but Chris' towering physique and personality literally made it impossible for Aiden to appear tough.

You gave Chris a curt nod and received a sweet smile in response. 

"I believe I owe you an apology," he confessed, "I am sorry. My behavior that day was inexcusable." He paused for reaction, but looking at your hesitant faces, he continued, "It was quite a hectic day on the set and I guess I took it all out on you," he looked towards you, "You know I am capricious by nature. It takes me some time to become gregarious. But," he raised his hands in the air, "I repeat, the way I acted was inexcusable. I am sorry."

He extended his arm towards Aiden, "You are a porter I believe."

"Potter, sir," Aiden corrected while shaking his hand and introducing himself.

You bit your tongue, knowing that Chris was mocking you with his false apology. 

He invited Megan to join the conversation, "Megan loves handmade ceramics. Maybe she would be interested in your work."

Introductions were made again, and as the conversation pursued, it arrived at the topic of your marriage.

"Have you guys decided on a date yet?" asked Megan as Chris looked at you. 

"We are planning to get married as soon as the shooting ends for DJ," you smiled.

"Oh really? Wow that's… unusual," Megan tried her best to hide her surprise.

"We don't know exactly when will the shooting end," Chris said with a frown on his face.

"That's not an issue Mr Evans. We are actually planning to get married at the courthouse," revealed Aiden.

"You know if money is an issue then we would be more than happy to help you guys out," Chris offered in a sincere tone. 

"Oh no no Mr Evans. Money isn't an issue," you clarified, "We have decided to donate the money we had intended to spend on the wedding."

"But thank you so much for the generous offer, we really appreciate it," Aiden added with a sincere smile.

"You know a lot of couples are doing that nowadays. It's a trend I believe," Megan commented, "Where are you going to make the donation?"

"The local orphanage where I grew up. We both love kids and, it just seemed to be the perfect choice," Aiden beamed at you. 

You mirrored his expression while Chris scowled. "I think everybody should get the wedding of their dreams, and you" he stated, pointing towards you, "deserve much more than a courthouse wedding. Don't you want to get married in a beautiful church? Walk down the aisle in a gorgeous white gown? And get married to a man who can actually fulfill your wishes and desires?"

Squaring your shoulders, you looked at Chris dead in the eye, "I am marrying the man of my dreams Mr Evans. The wedding ceremony doesn't matter to me. What does matter is the beautiful life we will begin together. Now if you will excuse us," you linked your arm with Aiden's, "we need to leave."

Chris watched you leave as Megan tried to distract him with something else. Tonight did not go the way he had anticipated.

He left the party shortly after you, directly heading for his home. Standing under the cold shower, he tried to reason with himself. He was acting out of character. There was no reason for his behavior. You had made it ample clear that you loved your fiancé and that nobody in the world could sway you.

Then why was he so hell-bent on claiming you as his?

Because she's perfect for you, a voice answered him. 

Yeah, but she belongs to someone else, he argued.

So what?, the voice urged, Fight for her. You saw her wimp of a fiancé. You can break him into two pieces without breaking a sweat. She is made for you. Just you, and nobody else.

"I… Just… No," Chris stammered loudly as he shook his head, trying to get rid of the voice in his mind.

He tried to meditate, but it didn't work. Dodger too, was unable to distract him. Even his books on self-help and mental health were of no use.

As a last resort, he opened his laptop, but his fingers halted at the search bar, the cursor blinking back at him.

He was too tempted to search for you again. The last time he had Googled you, he had been satisfied with the results. You often volunteered with a few NGOs, coordinated multiple donation drives, visited orphanages and taught underprivileged children. His heart had melted at a particular photograph- you were holding an 8-month-old girl in your arms, while looking over a painting drawn by a 4-year-old boy as the child looked up at you with a toothy smile. 

It reminded him of everything he wanted to have, but still couldn't. 

He closed his eyes and started kneading his forehead with his palms. Everybody he knew always only had the best things about him. Right from Scarlett to Mark to Olivia to every fucking person he had ever worked with, everybody said he deserved to have a loving wife, a stable family. 

And yet, here he was, on a Friday night, home alone with a beer bottle, on the verge of anxiety. 

Was it just anxiety though?

Who the fuck is Aiden and why does he deserve to be with her? the voice in his head was back.

They love each other, they want to get married, Chris reasoned.

He doesn't hold a candle next to you, the voice persisted, People love money more than they love others. She will come to you. But you need to let her know you are available. You need to take her to-

"No," Chris interrupted the voice loudly, "No. This is unhealthy. No."

Reaching for his phone, he searched for his therapist's number, when the voice chuckled, You really think a shrink is going to help you with this? Eh? They are only going to ask you to fuck another pussy, or read more books. And I will be damned before you touch another book about trees. 

Chris shook his head again, but in vain. Unable to find the number in his contacts, he turned to Google for the second time that night and started searching for therapists in his area. The voice tut-ted, Yeah, as if the psycho doctor is going to shut their trap about Chris Evans crying over a girl.

Chris almost crushed his bottle in frustration. He couldn't let the voice take over. Not now. Not after working his ass off to get where wanted in his career. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the screen again and came across the headline- "Why Do People Write Fanfiction?" The word fanfiction seemed vaguely familiar to him. He was going to ignore the article and scroll downwards, but the brief underneath the headline made him stop- …mostly, people write fanfiction to stay in touch with the characters they love," says leading Psychologist Andrea Williams.

Intrigued, he opened the article and started reading. Then he opened another, and another and by the time he was done, he had read 6-7 articles on the concept of fanfiction and what it entailed.

Sighing, he opened a new word document. He was reluctant to type a letter, let alone a whole fictional story. He had tried everything and yet, you chose to occupy a rent-free space in his mind. 

Now all he needed was a reference.

He minimised the document, and opened a new tab on his browser. His hesitant fingers typed the words - Chris Evans Fanfiction - into the search bar, and he instantly winced.

Millions of search results were displayed before him, and as he read the descriptions of each one of them, he realised that 99% of these stories were porn. There was no sugar-coating it. On the 5th page of the search results, he luckily found a story sans the erotica. It was a cute one-shot about him going on a first date with the reader. He read it with squinted eyes, afraid that a sex scene might jump out of the blue, but luckily, nothing of the sort happened. 

Chris liked reading it. It was an innocent story filled with romance. 

But the only problem? It was written from the reader's point of view. He checked a few others, and realised they were all written from the women's perspective, not his.

He sat back in his chair, turning his head such that he was looking at the ceiling, contemplating his options. 

You want her, the voice whispered.

Reluctantly, he typed the first word that came to his mind. Your name. 

Chris rested his chin on his palm, wondering where to start. If this were fiction, would tonight have gone different? Would you have visited his house for karaoke that night? 

Tapping his fingers on the desk, he bit his tongue in thought. Thinking it was better to start at the beginning, he started typing from his POV-

The first time I saw her I thought she was pretty. I saw her during meetings and the shooting. Then one day I saw her giving food to a homeless man-

Deleting his words, Chris shook his head. This was insane! Right? You were a real human being and it was unethical of him to write this! He needed to learn to handle his feelings. 

If you don't have the balls to fight for her, then be with her in the stories you write. Grow a spine Evans, whispered the insulting voice.

Hesitating, he tried to write another paragraph, which ended up getting deleted. 

Try again, the voice coaxed him. Pour your heart into this. Write better. 

Taking a sip of the beer, Chris started typing again-

It was lunchtime when I saw her arranging some equipment on the table. Her back was facing me as I carefully approached her, afraid to startle her. I breathed in her scent, light, floral and fresh, before whispering her name.

She turned around, a bit surprised to see me, but she smiled nevertheless. Oh gosh her smile. I had seen her smile a few times on the set, but in person, it took my breath away. 

"Hi," I managed to greet her shyly. She matched my response.

"I was wondering if you would like to sing karaoke with me? There's a karaoke party tonight at my house if you would like to come," I asked her hopefully.

Her expression turned remorseful as she apologised, "I cannot come Mr Evans. My fiancé won't let me."

Imagine my surprise when I found out about her fiancé. "I didn't know about your fiancé. Why won't he let you come?" I asked her, concerned as she started sniffing a bit.

"He's… he's very strict Mr Evans. He doesn't like it when I go out with my fri-friends or co-workers," she shared between her light sobs.

My heart broke into pieces on hearing her confession. I had often noticed her taciturn behaviour on the set, but I had no idea about the reason behind it.

I raised my hands to cup her face. I was itching to wipe her tears with my lips, but instead, I used my thumbs. 

"I want to help you. Please let me," I requested.

"Nobody can help me Mr Evans. I am stuck with a monster." She pulled a chain from underneath her shirt and I got a glimpse at the marks on her neck. "Aiden gave me this chain and locket instead of an engagement ring. He said it will be better than a ring. And now he-" she started sobbing harder. I pulled her into my chest, running my right hand through her hair as my left hand soothed her back.

"And now he uses it as a leash," my angel whispered, horrified, "he says I do not deserve a ring."

I hugged her tighter and thankfully, she buried her face in my chest, "You are no longer stuck with him. Are you listening to me?" I bent my face to bring my lips near her ears, "I will make sure that you are free of him."

She shook her head, reluctantly pulling away from me, "No Mr Evans. I cannot-"

"Yes you can," I interrupted her. "You are going to come to my house for karaoke tonight. Message Aiden right now, and tell him that I will be dropping you home. Okay?"

After some coaxing, she agreed. I held her close as she typed out the message, her hands shaking around her mobile phone. Finally she clicked on the SEND button.

I brushed a kiss on her forehead, "Wait for me in the back alley after the shoot, okay? I will pick you up from there."

She nodded gratefully in response.

I couldn't wait for the shoot to be over that day. In my eagerness, I even messed up a few takes, mumbling over my lines like an idiot. But eventually, I got through the day. 

I was excited when I picked her up after the shoot. I could see she was nervous and maybe a little bit scared, but she still entered my car anyway. So I made small talk with her and tried to put her mind at ease.

Finally, when we reached my house, she was in awe. 

"This is the most beautiful house I have ever seen Mr Evans," she gasped as I led her inside, "I don't think I have ever seen anything like it before!"

I chuckled, "I am happy you like it. It… it just feels empty sometimes, you know? I find loneliness ubiquitous in this house."

You looked at her puzzled expression and smiled. "Ubi-what was that word Mr Evans?" 

"Ubiquitous," I replied, "it means something that is present and is found everywhere."

"Ahh okay," she nodded, "thank you for teaching me."

"I will accept your gratitude only on one condition."

She tilted her head ever so slightly, "And what would that be Mr Evans?"

I smiled as I slightly bent down and held her hand, "You need to start calling me Christopher."

Visibly flustered, my angel looked down at her feet. "I-I can't Mr Evans," she said in a low voice.

"Why can't you?"

"I respect you too much sir," she confessed.

"Hey," I gently nudged her forehead with mine, "I want you to say my name. Please?" 

I stared into her eyes as she met mine. God.

There was something about her eyes that was absolutely riveting. The depth of her eyes pulled me in towards her as I read the plethora of emotions hidden within them. Her gaze searched my face for malice, deceit, but only found love and trust in return.

I slowly cupped her face as her breath hitched in her chest. I could feel my own heart race. Bringing my face as close as I could to hers, I whispered, the distance between our lips fast closing, "Please."

She parted her lips ever so slightly. I felt her warm breath on mine as she obliged, "Christopher."

I closed my eyes as I heard the most melodious symphony, my name draped in her sweet voice.

I dipped my head to kiss her, feel the shape of her lips, but she stepped back.

"I-I am st-still engaged Chris-Christopher," she stammered.

I straightened myself, my hands no longer cupping her face, "I understand. I am sorry. Would you like-"

Before I could finish, a car honked outside. While I was curious at the intrusion, her eyes widened with fear. 

"That's him," she gasped, "Aiden is here. He found me."

"How is that possible?"

"He has a location app installed on my phone through which he tracks my location," she revealed, visibly shaking at the thought of greeting her fiancé.

"Stay here. You will be safe inside. Let me handle him," I said, squeezing her shoulders.

I walked out of the house and towards the car. The vehicle didn't look in good shape, it's owner even more so.

Aiden manually rolled down his window and spat on the ground. Fumes of cheep alcohol and stale cigarette smoke escaped through the window. "Where is she?" he hollered.

"That's not your concern anymore. She's breaking up with you," I crossed my arms and stood facing him. "If you know what's good for you, you will leave her alone and stay out of her life."

Aiden exited the car at that threat, the door of the vehicle rattled as he opened it. "She said that?" he scoffed, "Color me surprised, I thought the little mouse had no fight left in her. Bring her out here. I want to hear," he wriggled a finger at me, "whatever the fuck you are saying from her own fucking mouth."

"Not going to happen Aiden. You followed her here against her own wishes. Now scoot off before I call the cops," I warned.

"You think I will be scared of some Hollywood prick who shits diamonds?" he sneered. 

"No. But you should be scared of the law. You are currently harassing the owner of this private property, not to mention you have clearly abused your girlfriend mentally, emotionally and physically. So be sensible," I took a step towards him, "and fuck off."

"STOP," she shouted as she trusted towards us. She stood in front of me, as if to guard me from her monster of a fiancé, "Please don't hurt him. I will come with you. Just let him be," she pleaded with him as he smirked. 

Before he could react, I pulled her behind me, making sure my body was shielding her from Aiden.

"She's a gold-digging bitch. You stay away from her," he pointed at me as he tried to reach her. 

I pushed him away once and kept my hand on his weak, thin torso. Turning my head, I asked her for the last time, "Are you sure you want to go with him? I can save you. I will protect you, provide for you and keep you happy!" I urged her.

She looked at me with hope and helplessness. Slowly, she glanced at Aiden who looked like he was ready to commit murder. Sobbing uncontrollably, she removed the chain with the sunflower locket and threw it at his feet. 

"Leave me alone," she managed to mumble at him.

Furious, Aiden growled and tried to pounce at her. Fortunately, I intervened on time and punched his sorry excuse of a face into the ground. 

She gasped as Aiden fell with a thud. Embarrassed, he slowly got up and dusted himself, muttering under his breath as he sat inside his wreck of a car. 

"Don't bother coming back to gather your stuff! I am burning it all tonight you cock-sucking bitch!" and with that outburst, Aiden was finally gone.

She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably at what had just transpired. I wrapped her in my arms to let her know she was safe. Within moments, I felt her ease into my body. 

I closed my eyes and smiled, my nose buried into her hair. My angel was safe. My angel was mine.

Chris blinked his eyes as he re-read his story. He already felt a whole lot lighter, his anxiety at ease, and mind exhausted. Clicking on SAVE, he finished the last of his beer and went to sleep, hoping that this was the end to his problems. Little did he know about the horrors that awaited him, behind the door he had just opened by writing that fictional story.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Chris Evans and his characters taglist: @onetwo3000

This story: @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @carpediemm-18

(If you guys don't want to be tagged in this, just let me know. No hard feelings 😊)

Taglists are open! Just comment, send an ask or a message!

[sincerelyella]

It’s Your Love - happy birthday Burnsy!

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Drake x OC (Alyssa); Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: It’s Your Love by Tim McGraw & Faith Hill

Characters belong to Pixelberry; OC Alyssa Devereaux belongs to my sister @burnsoslow​; Ella Brooks belongs to me.

Summary: The gang coordinates a surprise for Alyssa’s birthday.

A/N: It’s my Burnsy’s birthday and I’m sure everything I’m going to say she already knows! Firstly, I’m so sorry I changed my mind about which AU and which song for this fic like 47545024 million trillion times. Burns just freaking gets me mmkay? She’s my nakie twin, my soul sister, my football bestie and my biggest cheerleader. GUYS! Idk how I could have gotten through this year without her checking in on me, our football conversations or her amazing (and haaawwwwt) fics. Some dialogue in this fic, btw, was taken from a conversation we really had (and as usual, she is hilarious).

Burns, you know that I love you a BUTT TON and I will fight ANYBODY for you (where’s my vaseline?!) Thank you for always being in my corner, for giving me SEVERAL pep talks this year (because I’m dramatic), for believing in me when I sometimes didn’t believe in myself, and for loving me SO HARD. I really hope you have an amazing day and you enjoy your bday dessert and that you like this little fic.

-> please note, this is a rereblog and I am adding this fic to my ML. Today is not actually our sweet Burnsy’s birthday even though we would all like it to be lol

A/N2: This is set in The Loft AU by the way! Check it out here if you haven’t seen these guys’ shenanigans.

Warnings: Adult language, sexual innuendos, and major fluff guys!! The birthday girl wanted to be swooned and I will do my damndest to give her whatever she wants today.

Thank you so much @alyssalauren​ for letting me vent and letting me harass you with my whining … and listening to me change my mind about this for WEEKS - and also prereading for me along with @ofpixelsandscribbles​. I love you guys so much!

Words: 3149 (oops)

Alyssa was not feeling well. The more she coughed, the more she felt like death. “Oh, God, I feel like my brain is going to explode into itty bitty pieces,” she moaned with her arm draped over her face.

Drake bit his lip in an effort to stop a chuckle. She’s so fucking cute, and whiny. But cute. “Baby, it’s just a cold, you’ll be fine.” He slid onto their large king-sized bed and began to rub her lower back.

“It’s not! It’s the plague! Those kids at school don’t cover their mouths and sneeze up into the air! Like, I can see particles of their spit, just wafting,” she complained as she waved her hand in the air, mimicking the particles. “I bet you it landed on me or I inhaled that shit and now, look at me!” Her cute nose was reddened slightly from blowing out copious amounts of snot. She was seriously thinking about shoving some tissue in each nostril just to make sure nothing dripped.

Drake moved his hands upward and massaged her shoulders gently. “I can make you some soup,” he nibbled on her earlobe. “And make you feel … relaxed.”

“Mmmm,” she shivered at his words and sniffled. “Yes, baby, make me feel relaxed!”

A little while later

After Drake’s impressive two hour session of making Alyssa feel better, loud knocks sounded at their bedroom door.

“Lyssa!” Ella bellowed. “Lyss, you’re not answering my phone calls! Are you dead?!”

“No,” she croaked from the bed and stifled a laugh when Drake tripped trying to put on his boxers. “I was just getting my back blown out by my hot boyfriend.”

“Ew, TMI! Okay, are you covered up? I’m coming in!”

“No!” Drake yelled as he hurriedly threw on his pants. “Do not come in here, Brooks! I’m fucking naked!”

“Like I haven’t seen a naked man before,” Ella pushed open the door and rolled her eyes at Drake. “You aren’t even naked, Walker, get a grip.”

“No damn privacy around here,” he grumbled as he looked for a shirt in the closet.

“Hi!” Alyssa called out hoarsely from the bed as she tucked her comforter around her naked body. “I didn’t go to work today, I felt like death was coming for me.”

“I could hear you coughing from the kitchen. So, your blood pressure and that gnarly cough you have are what’s concerning me.”

“Yeah,” Lyss frowned and sniffed. “The cough is rough.”

“And gunky huh? Are you spitting up weird colored stuff?”

“No, it's clear and phlegmy!”

Ella narrowed her eyes on her best friend. “Lyss, did you take your blood pressure today?”

“I … umm no, I don’t like the machine.”

Ella let out a sigh. “You have to babe!”

Lyss’s bottom lip quivered. “I get scared my arm will explode.”

“Lyssa.”

The lip quiver always works with Drake. “… yes?”

“Your arm won’t explode.”

“If it malfunctions it could!”

Ella rubbed her hands over her face. “Alyssa!”

“In one of the Halloween movies, Michael Myers killed someone in the hospital by putting a BP cuff around their neck and pumping it until their head exploded!”

“What the fuck? Okay, no more Halloween movies for you!”

“But-”

“It’s not going to explode, Alyssa. You need to take your blood pressure. Do I have to hogtie you?”

“No ma’am, I’m taller than you!”

“By ½ an inch!”

Ella switched tactics. “If you don’t do this, I’m going to get Drake on you.”

Lyss giggled. “That’s hardly a punishment.”

Ella’s eye twitched and Alyssa held back a laugh.

After another 10 minutes, Alyssa finally agreed to only check her blood pressure if Ella did it for her and Drake had to hold her hand. Once the numbers were acceptable to Ella, Alyssa added to her terms. “Also, I want chicken noodle soup and those little soup crackers” - she sniffled - “and coffee.”

“Why not tea? That’s better I think,” Ella brushed some hair off of her best friend’s forehead.

“Coffee.”

“Cream isn’t a good idea for-”

Drake gave Ella a look.

“I mean … sure!”

“I’ll get started on that, baby,” Drake leaned over to kiss his girlfriend on top of her head. “Be right back.”

Ella waited until he closed the bedroom door behind him. “Lyssa.”

“Hmm?” She was already settled into the fluffy pillow and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Do you have a fever?” Not waiting for an answer, Ella leaned forward and felt Alyssa’s forehead with the back of her hand.

“Nu-uh,” Lyss mumbled and coughed.

“Lyss?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you want to put on some clothes?”

“Mmm, nope, I’m good naked.”

Ella chuckled. “Okay.”

She stood and left Lyss alone to rest. Ella wandered into the kitchen to find Liam and Drake as they stared into a large pot of broth.

“Is she asleep?” Drake asked while he stirred.

“Yep, she’s passed out,” Ella peered into the pot. “You need to add more onions.”

Drake tasted the broth again and shrugged. “Okay, more onions it is.”

Liam handed Drake the bowl of green onions. “So, what do you have planned for her birthday? Are you proposing yet?”

“I had planned to take her to the park and have a picnic,” Drake paused as he tasted the broth again from the ladle. “But seeing as how she’s not wanting to leave the bedroom, I might have to rethink my plan.”

“Hmmm,” Liam tapped his fingers over his mouth. “Why don’t you just have a picnic in the bedroom with her?”

“I guess,” Drake frowned. “That’s not very romantic.”

“You’re trying to be romantic, Walker?” Leo said as he walked into the kitchen with Maxwell with several bags from Nordstrom.

“Yeah, I am, if you must know.”

“I can help you out!” Leo’s wide grin made Drake narrow his eyes.

“What’s in it for you, Rys?”

“Oh, I just love helping my friends! Let me put all my stuff down in the bedroom, I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Leo was out of earshot, Drake hissed. “I don’t trust him!”

“I know,” Max replied. “It’s Leo we’re talking about. After he saw the movie Titanic he started the Billy Zane fan club.”

Ella stopped washing the dishes in the sink and turned. “Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,” Liam added. “Look it up, they’re called the Zaniacs.”

“Why does that make me angrier than anything he’s ever done?!”

Liam shrugged. “He also roots for Billy Zabka’s character in The Karate Kid.”

“Alright, guys! It’s romance time!” Leo announced as he came back to the kitchen.

Three days later

Leo, Maxwell, and Liam were busy setting up things for Drake and Alyssa’s outing at the beach.

“Why is Ella not helping us?” Maxwell huffed as he and Leo carried large boxes of twinkling lights.

“She’s here for Lyss, and to make sure Walker doesn’t sweat too much and get dehydrated,” Leo laughed as all three looked at Drake in the kitchen pacing back and forth.

“Fuck you guys,” his chocolate brown hair a mess after running his fingers through them more times than he can count. “I’m just … nervous.”

“Yeah, we can see that,“ Leo cackled as they walked out into the hallway and waited for the elevator.

“It’s going to work,” Liam reassured his best friend as he grabbed the guitar by the door and followed Max and Leo out.

“Drake, it’s going to be fine,” Ella put her hands on his shoulders to stop him from wandering around the kitchen; it was making her dizzy. “Liam is the King of Romance. Don’t listen to Leo, Alyssa is going to say yes.”

“How do you know that?” He began to babble and couldn’t stop himself. “What if this is too soon? What if she hates my singing? What if she says no?”

“You should be worried about whether she’ll get out of bed,” Ella looked towards the bedroom door.

“Oh my God, is she still in bed?!” He inhaled too quickly and began to cough.

“Okay, Walker, I was kidding. You know she adores you. She said ‘I love you’ first for crying out loud,” she gave him a concerned look. “Are you getting sick?”

“No, I don’t … get sick,” he sputtered as he continued to cough.

“Well you are pretty delicate, maybe you should slow down.”

He waved off her comment as his coughs began to dissipate. “I’m not delicate, I’m just” - he lowered his voice to a whisper yell - “proposing to my girlfriend and I don’t even know if she’s going to like this damn plan!”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Okay, so let’s just forget that you got sick watching Frozen.”

Drake glared. “No. I did not.”

“You also got a nosebleed watching Up,” she smirked.

“Oh my God, will you ever let that go?!”

Ella let out a chuckle. “Okay, fine then, why don’t you go and take a shower?”

“I already did,” Drake looked down at his sweat-stained shirt.

“Yeah, why don’t you go and take another one.”

He nodded. “Be right back.”

30 minutes later

“El! I need help!”

“Lyssa? What’s wrong?” Ella let herself into the bedroom Alyssa and Drake shared.

“My sinuses hurt and I dropped my dress and my book on the floor.”

“Okay?”

“Can you pick it up for me? It hurts to bend over.”

Ella hid a smile and bent to pick up Alyssa’s black dress and her book titled Remember Two Things. “I’ve been meaning to read this, how is it so far?”

“Oh it is so good,” Lyss put the book on her nightstand and pulled the dress over her head. “I’m at chapter 18 and these two have been in love since college-”

“No spoilers! I’m going to read it after you,” Ella found Lyss’ shoes under the bed and helped her put them on. “You take that medication I gave you?”

“The pill was too big.”

“Alyssa!”

“I’m kidding, yes, I took it,” she dimpled. “It was a gel capsule.”

Ella let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. You don’t need your sinuses to act up while you’re out.”

“Where is he taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Alyssa pouted. “No, I don’t.”

Drake appeared in the doorway with a brand new shirt that was miraculously dry. “Ready baby?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she stood and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “Thank you for helping me!”

Ella shooed the couple out the door and quickly called Liam to let them know they were on their way.

***

“Baby, why did you take another shower?” Alyssa eyed Drake’s damp hair.

“I … slipped in something Max spilled on the floor in the kitchen.” Fuck, I suck at lying.

“Oh,” Lyss chewed on her bottom lip and studied Drake’s side profile as he drove his truck through the streets of Los Angeles. “I was thinking … you’ve taken such good care of me while I’ve been whiny and sick and I wanted to thank you.”

“Of course, I care about you.”

“I love you, baby, I feel like we’re so good together.”

“We are, Lyss, I love you too,” he reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers.

Drake slowly pulled the truck into a parking spot and turned off the engine. “Come on, I have something I want to show you.”

Alyssa nodded. She hopped out of the car and took Drake’s outstretched hand as he led her into a walkway with arching shrubs above them. “What is this place?”

“It used to be a secret spot I went to when I was single,” he glanced down at her while she stared up at the greenery in awe. “I would just come down here to be alone.”

Suddenly, the archway lit up in thousands of little twinkling lights that illuminated their way down to the end of the walkway. “Oh my God,” Alyssa squealed. “I love this so much, it’s beautiful!” They came to the end of the lights and began to walk onto sand.

“Only a little bit further,” Drake mumbled as he took in the ocean, then focused his gaze on the large purple blanket that was sprawled out on the sand a few yards in front of them.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a little picnic the guys set up for us,” he gave Alyssa a nervous smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes! What’s for dinner?”

“Taco pizza and for dessert,” Drake excitedly climbed onto the blanket after removing his shoes. “S’mores brownie pie.”

“S’mores?!” Alyssa peeked into the large basket that held the pie. “Can we eat dessert first?”

Drake let out a loud laugh. “Whatever you want, baby it’s your birthday.”

Lyss opened the box where the taco pizza sat and she inhaled deeply. “Oh, no, we’re eating this first.” She grabbed a plate and separated two pieces, one for her, one for Drake.

“Thank you.”

They settled into a comfortable silence as they watched the waves cascade over the sand; the sun was slowly fading, disappearing behind the ocean, leaving its yellow-orange coloring over the blue hue of the water. Alyssa was sitting in between Drake’s legs, her back against his chest.

“This hit the spot,” she patted her stomach. “Taco pizza just like in Remember Two Things.”

“That’s where I got the idea from,” he kissed her on top of her head. “You told me how taco pizza sounded amazing and I had to get that for you.”

“You are amazing,” she leaned her head back and touched her lips to his. “Is that a guitar? Why didn’t I notice that before?”

Drake’s face turned a bright shade of red. “Uh, yeah, I had Liam bring his guitar out here.”

“Do you” - she pulled away from him and turned all the way around with widened eyes - “do you play guitar, baby?”

He nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I … Well, sort of. Liam taught me when we were teenagers.”

“That is so hot,” Lyss mumbled and she bit her bottom lip. “Will you play for me?”

Drake nodded. “Hopefully I’m not too rusty, it’s been years.”

“I know I will love it.”

Drake picked up the acoustic guitar behind him and began to tune it. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he went through each string and turned the knobs in turn. Alyssa watched as he dug into his jean pocket and pulled out a guitar pick. How is a man with a guitar so sexy?

“Here goes nothing.”

He strummed the guitar and smiled when it didn’t sound off-key. He took in a deep breath and began to sing.

Dancing in the dark, Middle of the night

Taking your heart, And holding it tight

Emotional touch, Touching my skin

And askin' you to do, What you've been doing

All over again

Alyssa was taken aback. She had no idea he played guitar or sang a note until today. Drake Walker singing country music just did something to her; not to mention the fact that she loved this song.

Oh, it's a beautiful thing, Don't think I can keep it all in

I just gotta let you know, What it is that won't let me go

She couldn’t stop herself, she started to sing along with him. It was a duet anyway.

It's your love, It just does something to me

It sends a shock right through me, I can't get enough

And if you wonder, About the spell I'm under

Oh it's your love

Their eyes were locked as they sang together. Alyssa harmonizing with him made his stomach do flip flops. He was a nervous wreck just thinking about singing and playing this damn guitar in front of her. But once she started to sing, he wanted to stop so he could hear her angelic voice instead of his rough one.

“Drake?”

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize I stopped.”

“That was so beautiful,” Lyss’ eyes were full of unshed tears. “I had no idea you could sing, baby.”

“I’m sorry I stopped, I wanted to hear your voice instead of mine.”

“Come on, let’s keep going!”

“I … I wanted to ask you something first.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

He set the guitar down on the blanket next to him and reached into his other pocket. “Lyssa,” he pulled out a black velvet box but didn’t open his hand just yet. “I wanted to make your birthday special, and I was so fucking nervous because I didn’t know if you’d like all this.”

“Anything we do together I love, baby,” she grasped his free hand with both of hers. “Don’t ever think I won’t like something you plan for us.”

Drake nodded. “I love you and I chose that song because it’s your love that keeps me wanting to wake up every morning,” he opened his left hand and she saw the box in his hand.

“Is that …”

“Alyssa Devereaux,” Drake opened the ring box and there sat three round diamonds on a gold setting. “Will you marry me?”

The tears were falling and one hand was clamped over her mouth in shock. She was crying so hard and overwhelmed with so much emotion that she struggled to speak. “Y-yes, Drake, yes!”

Drake’s entire face lit up at her words; he slid the ring on her finger and leaned over to kiss her. “Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?”

Cheers erupted from behind some bushes behind them, and the couple turned in surprise. Leo, Maxwell, Liam, and Ella jumped out, all with their phone cameras pointed in Drake and Lyss’s direction.

Drake scowled. “What the fuck?”

“Guys!” Alyssa jumped up and waved her left hand in the air. “We’re engaged!” Ella pulled her in for a big hug and the two of them began jumping up and down.

“Nice going, Walker,” Leo smirked as he shoved the last piece of taco pizza in his mouth. “You still sing real pretty too, just like in middle school.”

“Fuck off, Rys,” Drake snarled.

“You did good, brother,” Liam stepped forward and pulled his best friend in for a manly hug.

Drake gave him a half-smile. “Thanks for setting this up, and for all your help, Li. I know Twiddle-Dumb and Twiddle-Dee didn’t help much.”

Liam shrugged. “They picked up your pizza and pie. Got one for themselves while we were waiting for you to pop the question.”

“Taco pizza is the bomb,” Maxwell announced with a mouth full of food. “You guys are engaged! When’s the wedding?!”

“We’re still on cloud nine from being engaged, Max,” Alyssa chuckled. “We’ll all plan it out when we’re ready.”

“All of them?” Drake asked incredulously as the gang began to clean up the picnic area. “All of them are helping us plan?”

“You’re stuck with us forever, gorgeous,” Leo called out to Lyss. “You sure that’s what you want?”

Alyssa looked over at her fiancé, who just so happened to look at her. “I am so sure.”

[stillebesat]

A Hero’s Rescue (part 2)

Sanders Sides: Roman, Virgil Blurb: After being defeated in battle, the last thing Roman expects is to have a soaking wet hero show up at his doorstep. Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Superhero!AU Inspiration: This Post by @messythoughtsandscribbledplots Overall Fic Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Drugging (mentioned), Negative Self Talk, Threats of Violence, Death Talk Taglist in reblog. 

Part 1

Roman had made his mother’s special soup over a thousand times. To the point where he could do it on pure muscle memory--a feat he discovered after a particularly unrememberable encounter with one of Brainiac’s mind ray beams that he didn’t want to experience ever again.  

Still. Being able to feed himself with his mother’s soup even when his mind was completely blank of conscious thought was a good survival instinct to know he had...despite the circumstances. 

And yet. 

His master chefs had needed to take over the making of the soup halfway through after Roman had nearly sliced open his finger for the second time while dicing the onions because he wasn’t focused on the task at hand. 

Now though, with the main preparation done, he’d sent them back to their slumber, leaving him alone to stir the soup on the stove while keeping an eye on the pot of hot chocolate simmering nearby. At least he hadn’t managed to burn either one...yet. 

He supposed he could be granted a pass for being distracted though.

It wasn’t everyday he, a supervillain, had one of his nemesis’ over for a...well Roman had said kidnapping, but honestly, it was hardly that considering he’d left the kid alone to clean himself up without locking the door or even tying him up.

Roman exhaled, forcing his tense shoulders to relax as he reached up with one hand to check that his mask was still on.

Not that he’d let it or the crown he still wore to vanish. But he had to make sure.

Because he had a hero in his house.

He had a HERO in his House.

If any of the others ever discovered this--but no. He frowned. Someone had treated the young Thunderclap bad enough that he’d want to--that he’d come to Roman, no, to the Tyrant. To be--be---.

He let out another shaky breath, tilting his head to listen for the sounds of running water. For any indication that Whirlwind was still in the house.

For all he knew the young Rainspout had vanished as soon he was sure Roman had left the room. 

Or...he could be sneaking around the place right now. Looking for the Tyrant’s Lair. It could all have been a trick. A trap--NO. Roman growled under his breath.

There had been no mistaking the despondency and then the disbelief in Sparky’s eyes at how he, as Tyrant, was willing to take him in and treat him like a decent person--which Roman honestly needed to figure out how that was gonna go down for the next couple of days having a guest--instead of well...killing him. 

As Tyrant he was a lot of things…but an outright murderer? Hardly. Sure he could easily name a dozen other vile villains who wouldn’t have hesitated. To kill. To injure. To treat a hero, even a new one, like a punching bag. A dozen people Roman would need to check on to ensure they hadn’t mistreated Thunderclap in such a manner. Honestly, it really was a stroke of luck that the young hero had chosen to come to him first instead of--

Roman stiffened, hands going still on the pot as the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Static Electricity. 

Did Sparky realize he gave off that much energy? Probably not.

The soft coo of his dove confirmed that his new...guest? Yah. Guest was probably the best way to think about this. Had finally arrived.

“Fifteen minutes late, Whirlwind.” Roman said, fighting the urge to again check his mask to make sure it hadn’t slipped. “And here I thought heroes were supposed to be on ti--” He turned to the young hero standing awkwardly in the doorway with the dove on his shoulder, and promptly forgot to breathe as he caught sight of Sparky’s face. 

His maskless face. 

Roman jerked his eyes back to the soup, heart hammering in his chest as he gestured with a hand to conjure a simple silk mask, making it the same shade of purple as the pjs he’d created earlier that Sparky now wore. 

He coughed awkwardly, desperately trying to forget all the little details, all the bruises, he’d seen just from the two second glance at the, oh Crofters, he’d known the hero was young, but not a freaking teenager! What was he fourteen?!

He’d better have not been fighting a child this entire time. No, Sparky had to be at least eighteen. Please let him be an adult and not a minor. Because if he wasn’t...Roman would have to rethink his fighting strategies against his favorite hero. 

He clenched his jaw. And if...if the kid was actually freaking fourteen years old...then the perpetrator who’d hurt him like this would soon come to regret their actions because there was no way the Tyrant would let them get away with it.

Still looking away, he held out the mask to where he’d seen the hero standing, sending it with a flick of his fingers to hover near him in a crimson bubble. “You uh--forgot something, Thunderclap.” 

Perhaps he should have taken Sparky to a hospital first if he was so addled in the head to forget something so simple as keeping his secret identity intact in front of his enemy. 

 There was a soft sigh and a faint tingle as static electricity brushed against Roman’s crimson glow, like a finger poking into the side of a balloon, before the mask was pulled free from his hold. “I didn’t forget.” Came the quiet response as the hero edged closer, pausing by the oak dinner table, using it as a feeble barrier between them. “Figured you wouldn’t let me keep it on long anyways if I’m your…prisoner.”

Prisoner? Roman scoffed, moving to pull cups and bowls out of the cupboard, setting them down on the counter. “Even if I intended you to be a prisoner, Whirlwind, which I don’t by the way even if you are technically kidnapped, because otherwise you’d be in a containment bubble where I wouldn’t be risking getting myself shocked senseless by one of your little lightning bolts. I still have standards. I wouldn’t unmask you like that.” 

“....You wouldn’t?” 

Roman glanced at him from the corner of his eye, noting the mask was definitely still in the kid’s hands as he dished up the soup. “Of course not!” It was hardly fair play. Especially for a new hero. 

As the Tyrant, Roman may have enjoyed his battles with the Waterspout over the past six months, but they definitely weren’t ‘there’ yet when it came to him feeling any sort of victory from finally tearing away the hero’s mask to see the face of his enemy.

The moment he could corner that annoying army zapping Nerdy Wolverine though? Oh, that would be a sweet sweet victory he would savor for at least a year when he finally defeated Brainiac and rightfully discovered his true identity. 

Roman turned, two bowls of soup held in his hands as he carefully kept his eyes directed at the kid’s bare feet, noting that even there the hero had cuts and bruises. He fought back the flare of anger, adding a couple more potential acquaintances he’d need to pay a visit to on his ever growing mental list. “If I wanted to find out who you were, Whirlwind, I would have taken your mask off outside when you were kneeling at my feet in the rain.” 

He took two cautious steps closer to the young Hurricane, watching the feet as they shifted in place. He needed to tread carefully here. Go slow. His hero had been hurt and Roman needed to prove that Sparky was safe with him here. 

He took a breath, holding out both bowls to give the kid the option of choosing one, conscious of how the hero had been concerned that they could be drugged. Right. Drugged. Mentally he crossed off six names and added one more. “Beyond the fact that I would very much prefer it to happen after a long hard fought battle where I soundly defeat you, at least that reveal outside would be far more dramatic and rewarding than doing so in my kitchen of all places.” 

Wind whistled in his ears as Waterspout huffed a bitter sounding laugh as he tossed the mask onto the table. “Sorry to disappoint you then. But I’m done.” The lights flickered, the static electricity around them increasing. “Done with this...hero business. I can’t, Tyrant. It’s too much pressure. I’ll just fail.”  

Roman shook his head, frowning as he set the bowls on the table, gesturing with his hand to float the two mugs of hot chocolate by the stove over to them. “You haven’t failed me.” He said lightly, setting them down.

Scare him? Yes. It wasn’t every day that a hero comes to your home out of the blue asking you to kill them. 

Thunderclap snorted, resting his hands on the back of the chair closest to him, his fingers turning white. “Umm. Earlier today?” 

“I know you can’t make every battle, Sparky. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t show.” Roman said with a shrug as he pulled out a chair at the table and sat, pushing the purple mask closer to the kid while fighting to not adjust his own or look at the hero’s face. 

Sure he’d been disappointed. He always was when Thunderclap didn’t come to face him. Their battles were far more exciting, far more challenging compared to the other heroes he’d faced over the years. “You may not want to be a hero right now. But you’re injured. Exhausted. And hopefully hungry because I made you a ton of soup.” He twisted his hand, a soft red glow surrounding his fingers as two golden spoons appeared. He was careful to keep his eyes down away from the kid’s face as he twirled the spoons around his fingers. “After you eat your fill and get a good night's sleep in a big soft bed you might find you’ve changed your mind come morning.”

He could feel the static electricity continuing to build in the room until it felt like every hair on his body was standing on end. It made it difficult to not retaliate and send up a shield of defense against the lightning bolt that could be coming his way any second. 

But the kid had no reason to zap him. At least he hoped he didn’t. He just had to stay calm. Stay relaxed. 

Unexpectedly, the static energy vanished like an iceberg breaking apart leaving goosebumps racing up and down Roman’s arms as Sparky relaxed his grip on the chair. “You’re...not...acting how I expected you to.” 

He smirked. Good. The Tyrant couldn’t be just your predictable regular run of the mill bad guy. “Oh?” 

The chair scraped against the tile as Sparky cautiously sat down, his hand resting on the mask. “You...you care far too much about...” He shakily inhaled, the lights flickering above his head as he raised a hand, presumably to scrub at his eyes judging by the movement. “Me. No one ca--but you--and--and you don’t even know who--” 

No one cares? If he wasn’t certain he’d be electrocuted on the spot Roman would have pulled the young hero into another hug then and there. It sure sounded like he desperately needed one. 

“Kindness doesn’t need to be shown a face, Sparky.” Roman said softly, laying the spoons on the table with a quiet clink. “Just because I’m a bad guy...doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.” 

The kid huffed another shaky laugh. “Did...did you seriously just quote Wreck-it Ralph at me?” 

Roman jerked his head up in surprise. “You know--” 

The hero flinched back, causing the dove on his shoulder to take flight as his violet eyes half hidden by damp bangs flashed with panic while lightning crackled at his fingertips. 

Wait! Face! Gah! Roman twisted in his seat, hissing under his breath, his body tensing with the expectation of getting electrocuted. Great. Of course his love of Disney would come back to bite him at a delicate moment. 

This really would be much easier if the kid would just put on the mask already, so he wouldn’t have to worry--- but Roman wasn’t going to force him to do something he obviously was reluctant to do. Sparky was a guest…even if he was technically kidnapped. 

“I didn’t see anything, Whirlwind” He said as evenly as he could as the dove landed on the counter nearby with a soft coo, his mind racing as he turned his head further to stare at the pot on the stove. “But...judging from your reaction...perhaps you don’t actually want me to know who you are?” 

“I--I--” There was a thunk on the table as the crackling sound coming from the boy faded. “I don’t want to...be a hero right now, Tyrant.” He whispered. “I--I can’t--not now.” 

But the kid couldn’t exactly use his civilian identity in front of the Tyrant either since they were enemies. A pretty pickle. Except Thunderclap seemed to be forgetting one thing. He didn’t have to be either identity.

Roman glanced towards the young hero to see his face buried in his arms, purple mask half hidden underneath them. “Last I checked, Hurricane.” He said quietly. “There’s no rule saying that because you wear purple and white as a hero...that you can only ever wear those colors.” 

It would be a dead giveaway to the villains--for the smart ones at least--if the heroes did that.

Roman gestured, his hands again glowing crimson as he created a dozen more masks similar to the purple one the table, making each one a different color of the rainbow plus some boring shades like black and brown to give Raindrops a variety to choose from.

He turned away from the display as Sparky looked up. “If you don’t want to be a hero then pick a different color mask. You can be anyone you want to be under it. I can even conjure you a different set of pajamas so you can distance yourself further from your hero color scheme while you’re here. Just…” Don’t give up just yet. He shrugged. “Pick one.”

Waterspout reached out, hesitantly touching a blue mask, before shifting to hover over a green one. “...It can’t be that easy.” He whispered.  “What’s the catch?” 

 Roman made a face. “No catch. Pick a mask and then tell me a name to go with it.” He said, watching him from the corner of his eye as the boy lowered his head, his bangs hiding his eyes. “Any name.” He coaxed. “And I’ll call you that instead while you’re here. You won’t have to be a hero. You can just...be my guest.” 

“A guest. To the Tyrant.” Thunderclap said, putting an emphasis on the name.

That--the kid had a point. Roman exhaled. How could Sparky forget he was a Hero if his enemy, the Tyrant, was still around? Which meant...he would need to create his own alter identity as well. 

For the seemingly simple task of taking in a young hero and giving him soup...this whole thing was becoming more and more...complicated.

“No. Not to him. To me. Your host.” He stated, raising a crimson hand to his golden mask, altering it so that it became the same size and shape as the ones on the table, his crown vanishing as Roman made minor alterations to his appearance to keep Whirlwind from guessing his own civilian identity. 

He dropped his hand from the simple red mask he now wore, heart hammering in his chest at how...well naked he felt in the thing as he turned more fully to the kid, once more back in the clothes he’d been wearing while working on recreating his Knightmare Soldiers, careful to keep his attention on the masks on the table and not the hero’s bare face. No wonder Sparky was reluctant to wear this sort of thing. It hardly felt like a disguise at all. 

“You can call me Pryce.” He said, spreading his hands, fighting not to fidget under the weight of Sparky’s eyes boring into him, taking in his changed appearance.

“Pryce?” 

Roman nodded, watching Thunderclap’s hands twitching over his color options. “Yes.” 

It was one name he knew he would answer to that couldn’t immediately be connected back to his own civilian life.

“You’re serious about this? No heroes...no villains...just…us?” 

“So long as you’re here as my guest. Yes.” If Raindrops needed a break, then Roman would give him it. Anything to keep the kid from doing--from---from repeating--.

A soft sigh. “Okay.” Thunder rumbled in the distance as Sparky plucked up a plain black mask, placing it over his eyes. 

Roman blinked. Wait. Black? “Sooo...what? You going all goth on me now, kid?” He asked, slowly turning more fully towards the hero--to his guest as the boy looked up, already visibly relaxing now that Roman could look at him without seeing his identity. 

The corner of his lips twitching in a half smile as Sparky ran a hand through his darker hair, ensuring the bangs still half covered his eyes. “You have a problem with me wearing black?”  

Roman rolled his eyes. He was a villain who wore gold for a reason. Of course he didn’t like black. “Beyond it being such a common, dull, and boring color?” He waved a hand dismissively, vanishing the other masks. “No. Not really.” 

Thunderclap huffed, shaking his head. “Then...you can call me Andy.” He said, reaching for the closest bowl of soup, violet eyes flickering to him to check Roman’s reaction. 

Andy. 

Roman tilted his head. Not a name he would have picked for the hero. But he supposed that was kinda the point. “Andy.” He repeated. “Nice.” Not as nice or creative as Pryce, but he’d save his critiques for the boy’s lack of originality another day. “Is it short for the Mountain range?”

Spar--Andy choked on a laugh, shaking his head as he picked up a spoon. “No--not after--No.” 

“Pity.” Roman said, a more natural smile appearing on his lips as he grabbed his own bowl of soup, purposely getting the spoon to his lips before his guest to prove that the soup was safe. “After the Mints then? I would be more understanding of your emolicious choice in black if that were the case.”

Andy flashed him a smile, eyes sparking. “Only if Pryce is short for Price Tag. How much you going for these days? Two bucks?” He asked, taking a cautious sip from his bowl, only to immediately go for another spoonful.

  Roman nearly choked on his own soup. Price Tag? TWO BUCKS?! How dare he insult the Tyr-- Gah! Right. Not actively being the bad guy right now. But STILL. The audacity! 

No wonder he loved bantering with this kid.

“You’ll come to find, Hot Topic, that I’m priceless. You can’t afford me.”

Andy hummed, nodding like a wise old sage as he picked up the bowl in both hands, tilting it to his lips. “So your name is Less now?”

Roman clicked his tongue, watching the kid gulp down his soup like there was no tomorrow. Okay...he’d walked into that one. “No.” He said, summoning the pot over from the stove, so that the kid could get more if he so desired. 

“Pity.” Andy set the bowl down, glancing to the pot then to him. “Guess I can’t think of you any Less then.” He licked his lips, meeting Roman’s eyes before he could respond. “Not after--well...thanks--for letting me...crash here for a bit...Pryce.” 

Roman blinked, caught off guard at the sudden change in direction. A pity. He’d had a great retort to that earlier remark too. 

He took up the ladle, filling the kid’s bowl once more. “No problem, Peppermint.” He said as he also pushed the mug of hot chocolate closer to the hero, summoning a bag of marshmallows with a twitch of his fingers. He chuckled as the kid’s eyes once again lit up. “Stay as long as you need.” 

[estellaelysian]

Let me be in your Life like that (Dakota x MC)

A/N: First of all, happy Valentine's Day to all of you guys.

I was feeling so bad and guilty that I had written a fic for Ethan and Alishka and not for Dakota and Amber, that I couldn't help myself, and hence, I had to write this. So yes, you guys are in for a ride, and there are going to be two Valentine’s Day fics.

Also, this is complete fluff, because we are saving the angst for the series.

(And please excuse my errors if any, I haven’t gone through them!)

**********

‘Hey Amber,’ Dakota said, sounding slightly raw and throaty. ‘I am running late, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Go on and start the movie without me, I have already seen it anyway.’

Click.

Amber sighed.

No hey how are you? No hey, I am so sorry I can’t make it in time … just I am running late and go start the movie without me.

Classic Dakota.

‘What did he say?’ Mateo asked beside her. ‘Is he coming?’

‘No. He said he is running late. Oh, and that we should start without him.’

‘Oh,’ Mateo said, sounding just as dejected as she felt. ‘Well let’s start then.’

‘Yeah, let’s start.’

She balanced up the iPad she held, and at that very moment, she got a notification of a video message from Dakota.

Holding her breath, she opened the video, and there he stood, dressed in a hoodie, wearing a bright smile.

He grinned at the camera.

‘Hey Amber, I know it’s Valentine’s Day, and I know you are mad at me for not being there to watch the movie like we planned to do… Well, I am not at your house with you. I promise I am not standing you up, it’s the opposite of that. I love you, and I just want your Valentine’s Day to be perfect. I don’t know how to do this, umm … you know, I am just trying to do this perfectly, and my mind being the way it is, I can right now think of a million different ways this could go and I am freaking nervous, but all I know is I want this to be special and that you should always remember this. So, here goes…’

Amber pressed a hand to her mouth, keeping from saying anything as she watched Dakota step away and in the next moment, he was in the school, sitting in front of the green screen, talking to Jayden and Heather.

‘So, hello to both of you. I hope you are doing well on this bright day.’

‘Why yes we are,’ Jayden said, grinning widely. ‘And can I just say what a pleasure it is to have you here?’

‘Oh thank you. It is fun to be around you guys, but today I am actually here because I have something to tell my girlfriend.’

‘Oh yeah? Amber?’

‘Yeah, I think she is watching this right now.’

‘Uh, actually, there has been some technical problem,’ Heather said, looking at Dakota. ‘This is not broadcasting now.’

‘NO?’

‘No,’ she said apologetically.

‘But Dakota wait. I can arrange something,’ Jayden said, looking between Dakota and Heather. ‘Just gimme some minutes, I can–’

‘Nah, its fine actually, I can think of doing something else.’

‘No, no, just give me a few minutes…’

But Dakota was already leaving his seat in haste. ‘I am sorry, you guys, I’ll see you soon. For now, I’ve to go.’

And in the next step, he was at another setting, wearing a white sleeveless tee and blue jeans, smiling. She recognized almost all the classmates that entered the frame, all in same clothes.

Faint music started playing in the background, and Dakota made a goofy grin.

‘We could leave the Christmas lights up till January… this is our place, we make the rules. And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear. Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?’

Amber smiled at him singing, the best way he could, her hand still pressed to her mouth as he continued.

‘Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home … you’re my, my, my, my lover.’

The music stopped, and his voice rang out, loud and clear. ‘This is too cheesy,’ he declared, watching as the classmates danced and danced, not bothering to stop. With a scoff, he left the screen…

… to emerge a moment later at another location, this time the dog park, again, a trail of classmates following him.

‘Wise men said, only fools rushed in, but I can’t help falling in love with you.’

She giggled as one of the girls moved around and stumbled into him.

‘Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?’ he sang sweetly.

But their classmates were completely onto him now, flirting and seducing, pulling down his suspenders repeatedly, making Amber laugh. He tried dodging their attempts, but they continued, quite voluptuously, and he kept pulling his suspenders back on.

‘Cut, cut! CUT IT!’ he said, looking exasperated, and all the people stopped dancing or rather, seducing him. ‘Good god, this is a disaster.’

There was another change of frame, and now, he stood in front of Dairy Queen, amidst the people who barely paid attention to the camera that filmed him.

And then, all of a sudden, music came blaring through, and a man and woman who stood right in front of the camera started dancing, like professionals would.

She watched in awe as the woman was swept, quite effortlessly, off her feet and up into the air, as she spinned gracefully in the man’s arms.

And then another couple followed suit.

And then everyone was dancing to the music, and again, she saw Dakota singing as she smiled at the frame. But this time, it wasn’t right in front of the frame. He was barely visible as he sang and danced in the crowd.

‘I don’t wanna think too much, I just wanna feel. You know that it ain’t no rush. Let me keep it real. Just let me be in your life like that, in your life like that. I’ll bring the light right back, I’ll bring the life right back. I’m gonna make you want more, I’m gonna be your new favorite. Tell ‘em you’re closing the door, I’m the only for sure…’

He kneeled with a rose in his hand, smiling.

She giggled unknowingly, and again, the music stopped, this time, Lennox appearing out of nowhere.

‘Where is Amber? Is she here?’ Dakota asked, and she shook her head.

‘What? You didn’t bring her?

‘No, that wasn’t my job! Amy here was supposed to get her!’

‘Wha–’

‘I can fix it. Just wait a sec, I’ll call her.’

‘You’re gonna call her? he asked as she pulled out her phone.

‘Oh my God, you guys, I am so sorry,’ he said, turning to the crowd of dancers waiting expectantly. ‘I am so sorry.’

His mom appeared in the frame now, holding a fancy tux jacket. ‘Here, darling, put this on.’

‘Mom, what are you doing?’

‘Come on, put this on, you are gonna need it.’

He pulled on the jacket, and she handed him a small paper bag along with a laser tag.

‘Use this. Use it now!’

In a blind moment, he drew a circle down on the ground and jumped in, as a woman, who she did not recognize appeared in the video.

Soon, they were in a pursuit, running down the deserted and dark streets, but before long, the woman caught up with Dakota, snatching the bag right out of his hands.

‘Hey!’ he said, whirling around to face her.

‘She doesn’t need this. Did you ever think what might e in here? What is it that you are protecting with all your heart?’

She turned the bag upside down, and down fell bits of paper.

‘Nothing. She doesn’t need fancy gifts. She needs you, there, right now, and if you do want to give her something, it should be this,’ she said, handing him a basket.

And then she was gone.

By now, Amber was completely still, holding her breath. Dakota turned to look at the empty street in shock, but then, before long, started walking down, under the golden pool of light.

She recognized the neighborhood. He was getting close.

Oh God….

The doorbell startled her, and she looked at Mateo.

‘Go, open it,’ he urged, smiling at her. ‘He’d want to see you after so much of running around.’

A giggle escaped her lips as she stood and went to open the door, and there he stood, her Dakota, looking smart and handsome, and disheveled at the same moment, his hair tousled.

he looked absolutely perfect.

‘I love you, Amber,’ he whispered. ‘I love you so, so much. Here,’ he held out the straw basket to her, which seemed to be carrying gummy bears, roses and a few notes.

But she was way past caring about what was in the basket.

She threw her arms around him, and he held her as relieved laughter and tears left her body.

‘I love you too,’ she said, tightening the embrace.

**********

So yeah, that just happened. It is inspired from a video I watched, and ... yeah, sorry if things got too cheesy.

Thank you for reading.

Tagging: @tenaciouslandvoidgiant @choicesaddict5 @starrystarrytrouble @dakotasteach @kodysteach @vishhhi 

Let me know if  you want to be added or removed

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

A Chance Encounter | Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Hello! It’s been a while, I’m sorry! I’ve had a bit of writer’s block (a bit lmao) and it’s been really hard to write anything. I’ve got some requests but I just couldn’t think of anything, I’m sorry! This is all I could come up with so far, but I will definitely try to do all the requests soon! This is an idea I’ve had for a while, I did get inspiration from another fic I just can’t find it for the life of me! If you’ve seen it or recognize it, please tell me! Length: 2.7k Pronouns used: She/her

Summary: Izuku gets hurt and has to take refuge on your balcony. When you find him, you’re quick to help him. He most definitely takes note of all the Deku merch you have in your bedroom. You finally get to meet your favorite hero.

Taglist: @sweetlikepeppermints @peachy-yabbay 

Full Name: (y/f/n) Quirk: (y/q) Age: 25

Izuku winced as he grabbed his bleeding arm. He leaned against the wall, a deep frown on his face. He looked down at himself to see that he was a mess. His blood had started seeping through the tears in his suit. He could hear the villain getting closer, making him hold his breath as he hid behind a large dumpster. The blood dripped down his side and arm, the agonizing pain was difficult to ignore, but pushed through it.

Unfortunately, as much as he hated the idea, this time he’d have to retreat. When he was sure it was safe, he used his quirk and bolted. He could hear the villain yell and turned down the street, using the walls to hop around. Finally, he found refuge on a small balcony. He landed and quickly crouched down to hide. Due to his pain, he lost his balance and his back hit the sliding glass door. He winced and shut his eyes trying to breathe and calm himself.

Meanwhile, (f/n) shot up in bed, terror and worry written all over her face. Her panic flew through the roof when she saw a figure hunched on her balcony through her curtains. She almost screamed, but quickly clamped her hand down on her mouth.

It took her eyes a minute before they adjusted and she immediately recognized the suit. She’d been a huge fan of Deku and here he was on her balcony. Wait… was he hurt?!

Without thinking, she threw her bed sheets off and ran to the glass door. She pushed her curtains open, unlocked the door, and pulled it open. Izuku immediately shot up, ready to fight but breathed in relief when he saw a tired girl on the other side.

“A-are you ok?!” He immediately put a finger to his lips in an attempt to tell her to quiet down. She took the hint and started looking around, before gently urging him inside. Although he didn’t want to put an innocent life in danger, he had no choice. As long as he wasn’t spotted, he’d be fine. Izuku quietly followed her in and watched as she shut the door, locked it, and pulled her curtains closed.

(f/n) walked to the other side of the room and flipped her lights on, both of them winced at how bright they were. Izuku finally got a look at the girl, she was… beautiful, actually. His eyes trailed down and he almost smiled at what she was wearing. It was a cute little dress, with his hero suit printed on it. His emerald eyes looked around, his heart fluttering at what he saw. She had little figures of him, even some posters.

She was a fan? Just like him- well not like him. He was a little crazy when he was young, this girl only had a few things. Well… maybe a few more than he saw, because he caught sight of a couple of cute Deku plushies on her bed.

“A-are you ok? Wh-what happened?” At her words, pain shot through his arm, however, he gave her a bright smile and shook his head.

“Nothing. I’m alright, I’m sorry to bother you!” His smile was as wide as always, but (f/n) wasn’t convinced. She could see how hard he was clenching his arm, it must’ve really hurt. She even saw the gash in his torso, not to mention the cuts and bruises on his face, chest, and arms.

“Y-you’re hurt!” She argued, pointing to his arm, which he ended up hiding behind him.

“I’m ok, really! Please don’t worry too much about it. I’m a hero, remember!” (f/n) cautiously approached, not wanting him to leave. She gently reached out and he watched her carefully but allowed her to touch him.

“C-Come with me, please.” She said, as she took hold of his uninjured arm and led him towards the door. He nodded and followed, watching as she ran back to grab her phone… which had a cute little Deku case on it. He smiled a little as she led him out of her bedroom and to the living room. She had him sit down in one of her dining chairs, before she inspected his wounds.

(f/n) wasn’t a nurse nor did she know how to fix large wounds like that, but she would give it her all. Especially for her favorite hero.

“I’ll be back,” she said as she walked away. Izuku watched her form disappear before his green eyes scanned her little apartment. It was cute and cozy, he saw little decorations and accents he liked.

Within a few minutes, (f/n) had returned with a medium-sized box and a glass of water. She placed it on the table next to him and opened it, while letting him take the water and sip at it. He really needed it and he hadn’t realized it until now.

Taking out a bottle of disinfectant, (f/n) grabbed some paper towels before spraying them down.

She then looked back at the hero and slowly started to dab the paper towel onto his cheek. He winced at the stinging sensation as she continued, apologizing for it. It almost made him chuckle.

For the first few moments, he stared at the room around her, however, as she moved onto his chest and arms, his eyes locked onto her face.

She really was beautiful, this girl. She had (h/l) (h/c) locks, tired (e/c) eyes, and very soft hands. He almost facepalmed when he realized he didn’t know her name.

“What’s your name?” He inquired, watching as her cheeks turned red from embarrassment.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m (y/f/n), i-it’s nice to meet you, Deku.” He smiled at how cute she looked with that blush.

“Likewise, (l/n).”

“Y-You can just c-call me (f/n).” She answered, before looking at the large wound on his arm. She gently raised his arm so she could get a better look in the light. She grabbed some more paper towels and gently dabbed it on his arm, letting it soak up the blood. Izuku tried to push the pain out of his mind, he didn’t want to seem weak in front of a fan, but that was easier said than done. He felt bad that this girl had to patch him up. Not to mention the villain was probably still out looking for him.

Well, hopefully, the villain had given up on finding him and wasn’t terrorizing someone else. His eyes slowly trailed down (f/n)’s body, looking at the dress she had on. She must’ve been a really big fan.

“Cute dress. Do I know him?” He teased and watched as her cheeks flushed red. She immediately looked down, then back up at him with wide eyes.

“I-I uh, w-well it’s um-” He laughed at how adorable she was, which only made her cheeks brighten.

“You’re cute,” he complimented, “a fan?” She shyly nodded, as she removed his glove and gingerly pushed his sleeve up. She grabbed the disinfectant and sprayed it on his wound, making him hiss in pain.

“I-I’m sorry!” She cried, looking up at him. He shook his head again and gave her a pained smile.

“It’s alright, I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it!” He could see the relief in her eyes, the last thing she’d probably want to do is hurt her favorite hero.

Once (f/n) was done cleaning the room, she gently wrapped the gauze around it, like a bandage. She went around a few times before she used some medical tape to hold it in place. She pulled his sleeve down and helped him put his long glove back on. Her next target was the wound on his torso.

“C-Can you… umm.” She pointed to the wound and he nodded, removing his belt and then unzipping his suit. He unzipped it all the way, before pushing it to the side a little so that (f/n) could get to it. She tried to keep herself calm because there was no need for her to get flustered! He was injured and she was helping him.

He was pretty built, his skin was smooth and cold to the touch. (f/n) desperately tried to be professional, but damn… he was even better looking up close.

“I think you’ll have to stand for this.” She said, looking up at him. Izuku nodded and waited for her to back up before standing. He pushed his hero suit further and held it for her while (f/n) examined the wound further.

It wasn’t too bad, actually, it was just bleeding a bit more than expected. She used the spray on the wound before gently wiping it with the paper towel. She also cleaned off all the blood and dirt off of it. Once the wound was clean, she could see it even better now.

“It’s not bad at all, just bleeding a lot.” She commented, grabbing the gauze as unwrapping it. The blood helped hold onto the first couple of layers, after that, (f/n) needed medical tape. Once the bandage was on there, (f/n) used some water to clean up the rest of the bruises and cuts. They weren’t too deep and didn’t require any bandages. They mostly seemed like scrapes.

“Thank you.” He said softly, as she continued to wipe down his chest. She paused and looked up at him, her cheeks still tinted red. However, a smile took over her face and she nodded.

“Anything for you. You’ve done so much for us, the least I can do is patch you up.” She cleaned up the dirt around his face and cheeks before adding a little bit of ointment onto the smaller scrapes. “That’s all of them.” She announced, putting the paper towel down.

“I really appreciate it,” he commented as he pulled his suit back into place and zipped it up. “I’m sorry to barge in. I shouldn’t have come here, I was just trying to hide-”

“Please don’t apologize,” she interrupted him, her (e/c) eyes meeting his emerald ones, “like I said, you do so much for us. All of you heroes put your lives on the line for us. This is the least I could do.”

Izuku smiled at her, finally feeling that little achievement in his heart. He’d always wanted to be a hero who could smile and eradicate fear from people. He wanted to be the hero everyone looked up to, he wanted to be the hero that could make others smile, just like All Might. This girl, with such few words, proved to him he’d made it.

His gloved hand gently grabbed hers, a bit disappointed he couldn’t feel the softness, and he gave it a squeeze.

“You’re a great person, (f/n). I am lucky to have met you. Thank you so much.” He said, watching as she shied away. Sadly, (f/n) knew that’s where their interaction would end. He needed to leave and she wasn’t that special, so he wouldn’t be coming back. But at least… he knew her. He knew her name and hopefully, he wouldn’t forget for a while.

“Anything for you, Deku.” She mumbled, trying to keep her smile up. She led him to the front door and bid him a goodbye, watching as he activated his quirk and disappeared into the night. (f/n) closed her door and leaned against it, a smile on her face.

She met Deku. She helped him, he got to know her name and he even called her cute! She giggled like a schoolgirl, covering her face with her hands. She quickly cleaned up the mess she’d made and went back to bed, her mind still on the hero. Unfortunately, she was too excited to get any sleep that night.

~***~

(f/n) sighed as she laid down in bed. She wasn’t very tired but it was already two in the morning and she needed to get rest or she’d be exhausted the next day. She walked out of her closet, changed into her little Deku nightgown. She was still so embarrassed that he saw her in that, but at the same time, it was her favorite so she kept wearing it.

It had been almost a whole month since she’d last seen him, and sadly, she was correct. Deku wasn’t coming back. She knew that from that start, but her stupid heart kept some inkling of hope. Of course, that hope shattered as the days went by and she didn’t see him.

She frowned a little. Why did she think she was special? She was just another fan. He had thousands and… she wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Nothing that would catch Deku’s eyes.

(f/n) turned off her lights and laid in bed, scrolling through her phone. Deku had been pretty busy recently, he’d been rising in the ranks and he was officially ranked 9th this month. She was so happy for him, anyone who knew Deku knew it was his dream to be number 1. He was getting closer and closer and (f/n) couldn’t have been happier.

The sudden ringing of her doorbell almost made her drop her phone. She sat up, unsure if she heard right. She waited a few seconds and heard it again. Who would be visiting her this late at night?

“I swear to god, (bff/n), if that’s you this late, I will throw a fit.” She mumbled as she grabbed her phone and walked out to her living room. Her friend had a tendency to show up this late with food or snacks and as much as (f/n) wanted to reject her, she just couldn’t.

(f/n) unlocked her door and opened it, her eyes widened and she froze. The male turned around and gave her a bright smile.

“(f/n)! I really hope I wasn’t bothering you.” (f/n)’s eyes glanced down at Deku and saw that he was wearing casual clothing.

“Wh-what’s g-going on?” She asked, stuttering as the embarrassment crept up. HE CAUGHT HER WEARING THAT STUPID DRESS AGAIN!

“I know it’s really late, but it’s the only time I ever have. I’m usually busy with hero work during the daytime.”

“Th-that’s fine, a-are you hurt again?” He shook his head and laughed a little.

“Actually, no. I came here to see you.”

“S-see me? Why?” Although she may have sounded like an idiot, no one could blame her, she was faced with her favorite hero… again! He chuckled at her response and moved a little closer.

“Because I like you. And I wanted to be friends. Will you be my friend?”

“Oh, we can be way more than that.” She answered, without thinking. His eyes widened and she opened her mouth to defend herself but nothing came out. Instead, she opted to shut her mouth, and sighed in defeat. “Th-that came out wr-wrong-”

“Then let’s go on a date.”

“A date?!” He nodded and sheepishly chuckled.

“Can I come in?” (f/n) almost facepalmed at her actions. He was still standing outside of her apartment! She immediately opened the door and moved aside, letting him walk in.

“Sorry!” She said, shutting the door and locking it. He smiled at her and shook his head.

“It’s ok,” his eyes traveled down to her dress again, “Ah, you must really like this hero.”

“Oh um- well about th-that! You see,” as she fumbled around with her words, he waited patiently for her to explain herself. Of course, he was just teasing and he had to admit, that blush on her cheeks was adorable.

“Yes?” She pouted a little, her cheeks bright red now.

“You’re… m-my favorite h-hero.”

“Oh?” He asked, moving closer to her, making her look down, shyly. She couldn’t speak, so she only nodded.

“Well, you’re my favorite hero too.” Her head shot up at his words, clearly in disbelief.

“H-hero?! M-me? N-no way.” He laughed a little at her response and nodded, arguing back.

“You are. You helped me that night and I really needed it. I thought I didn’t, but I was in a bit of trouble. So thank you, again. To me, you’re a hero. You’re my hero.” Tears start to pool around her gorgeous (e/c) eyes, making him smile softly. He wasted no time before engulfing her in a hug. She hugged back, breathing in his scent. He smelled sweet, almost like candy. It was comforting and she really didn’t want to let go.

(f/n) was madly in love with a stranger, someone she barely knew. It was a little… sad at first. But now that she had a chance to get to know him, she was beyond excited. Especially when he’d asked her out on a date. Who knew, all she needed was a chance encounter with Deku, her favorite hero.