#random notes found somewhere deep in my drafts

[rhiannons-bird]

Alastair as Batman

he's perfect for the whole Bruce Wayne aloof act

Cordelia would so want to join in and he couldn't stop her from becoming a superhero

Thomas as this cute photographer/journalist who slowly figures things out

[jeonginslefthand]

Harbor Lights ✨

Pairing: Hyunjin x female Y/N (Established relationship (BF x GF), idol!Hyunjin x photographer!Reader)  Genre: Straight fluff, wholesome romantic date fluff  Word count: 1.7k+ Plot summary: Hyunjin decides to take you on an early morning walk along the harbor bridge before he has to perform his idol duties (and possibly for a quick photo shoot with his fav photographer ;)) Warnings: None. Maybe some cheesy lines here and there but what’s romance without some cheesiness to it?  A/N: So this was a random idea that I completely wrote up at 3am (no seriously it was 3am when I wrote this—). Although this was a 3am idea, this is [mostly] proofread and has been through many changes and drafts. I’m still a little new to writing shorter fanfics like this so constructive criticism is welcomed! But other than that hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you all think.

Stray kids masterlist

~~~

“[Y/N] wake up!!” 

You sleepily turn over in your sheets as your boyfriend shakes you awake. Usually, he’s in a rush to get to a dance practice or a recording session. He only has time to give you a small kiss on your cheek thinking you’re still asleep (you’re not though. All of his moving around naturally wakes you up). But this morning he’s up at who knows what hour trying to get you up for reasons you have yet to find out. 

“Hyunjin…” you sleepily say as you turn to check the time. 5:30 AM. Way earlier than when he usually wakes up. “Do you need me for something? Why’re you up so early?” 

“Come on, it's not that early.” Hyunjin pouts. “Get up and get dressed! We’re going somewhere special.” 

You sit up in bed looking at Hyunjin confused, raising your eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!!” Hyunjin teases. “Oh, and bring your camera with you.” 

Hyunjin leaves before you can question him further. He rarely asks you to bring your camera. That’s only reserved for special occasions like sightseeing on world tours and special dates. Maybe he is taking you to a special place for a breakfast date? It would be a miracle if he found a place that opened before 6. Maybe he wants to have a mini photoshoot? Hyunjin’s always saying you take photos like a professional (and always makes sure to get his good side). 

With all these thoughts running through your head, you get up from your bed and start getting dressed. You don’t put on anything too flashy, grabbing a hoodie and some oversized jorts. You top off the outfit with a pair of worn out Converse and a beanie. As you pick up your camera, Hyunjin comes back into your room with an even bigger smile on his face.

“Ready to go [Y/N]?” He asks.

“Yeah. You still haven’t said where we’re going.” You respond.

“We’re going on a little walk. I just want to spend time with my girl. It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

He has a point. With the next comeback around the corner along with prepping for the tour, it’s like he’s never home. You knew it wouldn’t be easy being with an idol, but deep in your mind, you wished you could spend more time with him during these comebacks. Although you would prefer not to be up so early, if it meant spending more time with your boyfriend then it’s all worth it. 

The two of you leave your cozy apartment and you start following Hyunjin as he walks. Wherever you’re walking must not be far if he didn’t immediately hop in the car (although technically this already counts as starting the walk). The two of you get a little further and see a bridge and a harbor appear. Hyunjin stops and grabs your hand as he turns to you. 

“We’re going to walk on the harbor bridge! I hear the view is breathtaking.” Hyunjin explains. 

“I feel I’ve seen this bridge before…” you start to look at your surroundings and see you probably passed this area a few times. 

Hyunjin doesn’t respond and he pulls you toward the bridge. You take note of your surroundings as the two of you walk on the bridge. There barely is anyone on the bridge. You see one or two people in workout clothes taking a run in the opposite direction. The two of you are practically alone and you start to understand why Hyunjin chose this place. The sound of the water flowing below you coupled with the chirps of the morning birds and the slow rise of the sun enhances the peaceful atmosphere. The warm breeze flowing along your neck gives you a feeling of comfort. You could take in the atmosphere for hours, wishing that time would stop so you could take in this moment with just your boyfriend.

You both find a stopping point in the middle of the bridge and you take a step forward taking in the view. Hyunjin was right, it was absolutely gorgeous. The sun perfectly hits the water to give it a subtle glimmer. There are two lookout goggles and a bench on the opposite side of the goggles. You and Hyunjin go up to the goggles and look through them to get a better view of the water surrounding you. As you back away from the goggles, you study the rest of your surroundings and think to yourself this looks like a scene straight from a painting. Just looking at what’s in front of you gives you the inspiration you need to snap some quick photos. 

You pull your camera out and start to take some pictures of the water. Hyunjin slowly sneaks up behind you and begins to cuddle you from behind. 

“Knew you wouldn’t resist the chance to take some photos!” Hyunjin teases.

“Shut up!” You respond. “I will admit, this is peaceful. I miss spending quality time with you like this.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t respond and embraces you some more, taking in the feeling of your presence. He didn’t need to respond. You knew he felt the same. The two of you sit in silence for a moment as your mind wanders off.

You turn to Hyunjin appreciating his beauty in this moment. The sun is doing wonders for him… you think to yourself. The rays of the sun hitting Hyunjin’s skin at the right angles make him glow brighter than he usually does. You’re hit with a wave of inspiration thinking of how you can capture this moment on your small camera. 

“Can you pose right here for a moment?” You ask pointing at a spot on the bridge in between the lookout goggles. Hyunjin smiles and quickly walks over to the spot with his back against the bridge getting in a casual pose. You hold your camera up adjusting yourself trying to find the right angle.

“You look so beautiful when you're taking photos. I don’t understand why this is just a hobby.” Hyunjin says. 

“And I don’t understand why you just paint as a hobby.” You respond still trying to get the perfect angle. “Your paintings are beautiful. Every time I see one I’m transported to another world. So what made you choose the idol life?” 

Hyunjin thinks for a moment before responding. “Because I love the stage. I love being up there performing, dancing my heart out. It’s something I don’t think I’ll fall out of love with. If I turn painting into a job, I’m afraid I won’t love it as much anymore. Nothing I make will feel like… me.” 

“And that’s how I feel about photography. Well, almost. Maybe as the years go on, I’ll feel differently and turn this into my side hustle. But for now, I want to enjoy this without worrying about how much money I can make out of it.”

You adjust some settings on your camera as you position it towards Hyunjin again. “Besides… isn’t it kinda hot knowing I only take pictures for you?” 

“Okay, there’s no denying that.” Hyunjin laughs. “But one day, promise that you’ll consider selling your beautiful pieces. They don’t deserve to be kept locked away in your computer.” 

“Only if you promise to do the same with your paintings.” 

“Hmm… maybe…” Hyunjin teases.

“Very funny. Shut up and hold still for a moment.” 

You finally get the angle you want and snap a few shots of Hyunjin. He changes up the pose a couple of times and you adjust accordingly. The rays of the sun continue to enhance his beauty as it rises. It’s like he’s naturally photogenic with his energy complimenting the entire scene. You finish taking the photos and show them to Hyunjin. He smiles appreciating the way he looks through your lens. 

“Okay, it’s your turn now!” Hyunjin smiles. “Go and pose on the bridge!” 

You’re hesitant at first, but you slowly hand Hyunjin your camera as you go to the same spot he was in. You’re not used to being in front of a camera, but you do your best to get in a comfortable pose. Noticing your struggle, Hyunjin walks up to you and helps you with the pose. 

“Just relax. Pretend there isn’t a camera. It’s just you and the harbor atmosphere.” Hyunjin softly says to help you relax. 

Hyunjin’s soft voice helps you relax, comforts you even. You look off in the distance zoning out for a moment until you hear a small CLICK!

“Perfect! Keep posing naturally like that. Like your beautiful authentic self. You look your best when you’re not worrying about what’s around you.” Hyunjin reassures you, continuing to make you blush with his soft voice. 

He takes a couple more photos and you go back to get your camera from him. You look through the photos, admiring the way your boyfriend captured your presence. It’s amazing how you’re able to see yourself in a different light (both figuratively and literally). 

“What do you think? I’m not as great as the professional [Y/N], but I think these do your beauty justice.” 

“They’re amazing Jinnie!” You respond. “A few retouches in Lightroom and maybe these will look almost as good as my photos,” you say teasingly.

Hyunjin laughs before responding. “How about we continue our walk darling? The rest of the bridge leads to the next city. It’s long but if you’re up for it I think it’ll be worth it.” 

“I think that sounds perfect!” You respond with a smile. 

The two of you finish your walk along the bridge. It took about twenty minutes to get to the end of the bridge to the next city and you take a photo with Hyunjin celebrating the moment. You notice a coffee house near you and politely drag Hyunjin for a quick coffee date and a bite to eat after all the walking. The two of you chat it up enjoying each other’s company, completely losing track of time taking in the moment. As Hyunjin is telling his stories from idol practice yesterday, he suddenly remembers he had his phone on silent and he pulls it out. He opens it to multiple missed calls from Chan and a few text messages from him. Hyunjin quickly gets up and you quickly follow him as he opens his phone to one message in particular:

BangChan: Hey! Are you coming to practice or what? 🤨

[st-kitten]

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.5

after their incident, a few days later, she came by earlier, at around 4 pm, hoping the change in time would make her study better. but to no avail

when kiyoshi entered the cafe at 5pm, she awkwardly greeted him and he asked her to come to the back in the storage room. hoping it wouldn't be another discussion about the incident, she followed him. standing in front of him as he dug through his locker, she looked around. it was like a storage room combined with a resting area and a washroom

kiyoshi pulled out a book from his locker and handed it to her. it was her own textbook, but a few editions older "i have it on my laptop tho" "trust me. a paperback may surprise you" she found it strange that he'd go to this length to help her with studies he wasn't even familiar with. but she took it anyway

she began reading it instantly. she found out several differences between the content and she was surprised to notice a great deal of censorship in certain chapters due to contemporary politics and grey-shade conflicts. it suddenly gave her a boost to turn her argument around and put in a crutch of corruption and illicit blanketing in the sociopolitical evidence of the foreign affairs in her syllabus. the old edition was somehow more truthful than the internet and she had never been more inspired to dive and dig deep into her discipline. kiyoshi watched her throughout her study. she was extremely engrossed in her work and he could hear her type furiously, taking down notes from the tattered book he'd found in a library after bullying imayoshi to find it for her from her university. boy was he glad he found it. or rather imayoshi did. he didn't want to see y/n's defeated appearance after the hours she put in her work

even after he'd left, leaving hyuuga to close the cafe, y/n worked on her assignment until midnight, when hyuuga reminded her that the cafe was about to be closed. she couldn't take her eyes off the damn book and begged him to let her stay. hyuuga couldn't agree so easily and eventually asked her to go to her dorm or something. she argued saying it was a little too late to go back on the campus as the university had curfew. hyuuga sighed and invited her to his apartment. he had a twin bed in his room as it was the bigger one out of the two. it was meant for imayoshi or sometimes their friend izuki who came by and stayed over when he had work around the area. y/n thanked him a million times, her nose buried in the book throughout the drive to his apartment. hyuuga actually found it charming. he was sure that he liked her studious side. if only he was more interested in academics like y/n, hyuuga would be able to spend more time with imayoshi on a book or two instead of panting and damn nearly killing himself dribbling balls behind his overly cunning bf with a stamina of ten horses

hyuuga welcomed her into the apartment, showing her his room. she thanked him. being a weekend, she was expecting to take a well-serving all-nighter to study and actually type a proper draft of her assignment instead of just random points. what she wasn't expecting was to run into a half-naked kiyoshi in the washroom, a toothbrush dangling in his mouth, when she opened the door to wash her face, preparing for her night studies

"you? here? what... how?" she asked, trying to be modest and not check him out kiyoshi nearly swallowed the toothbrush seeing y/n in the bathroom. spitting the paste out and rinsing his mouth, he looked back at her "I live here." "okay... guess hyuuga forgot to mention that... sorry, I'll let you get back to your... uh... routine"

"i'm done. you can use the bathroom… there's a spare toothbrush somewhere, I think." kiyoshi was just as awkward as her. but he left the bathroom and rushed into the kitchen to down a glass of water, spilling some on his chest.

he needed a moment to think. he was sure that he had feelings for her and he was terrified of the fact that despite being with riko, he wasn't feeling guilty of it at all. in fact, every time he and riko went out, he could barely focus on her. he kept thinking of y/n and the kiss they'd shared. kiyoshi didn't even bother to remember y/n's bf, someone he'd already rivalled against. now that she was in his apartment, kiyoshi didn't know what to do. he could just leave her be, but knowing that she was one room away from him, that too in hyuuga company made him a bit jealous. not that he didn't trust his friend

kiyoshi fought back against interrupting them and simply went into his own room, sinking in his bed, trying not to think of y/n. hours passed and he couldn't sleep. he felt hungry and got up to get some leftovers from the fridge. the kitchen diagonally faced the living room, so when he entered, he saw y/n sprawled on their couch, her laptop, placed on the coffee table, illuminating her face in the dim light. she was still reading the book he'd lent her. kiyoshi blushed hard and hid his face in the refrigerator, eyeing a box of leftover pizza and some soggy fries

he took them out and was about to head back into his room when he saw y/n almost fall of the couch trying to reach a pen. he scurried to her side trying to catch her, but she fell nonetheless, the book hitting her face. kiyoshi stopped just before her, but his feet skid on the carpet and he too fell down, his torso hitting y/n face next

"bitch, fuck! how much do you weigh?" she groaned

kiyoshi chuckled, getting off her and sitting on the floor, back resting against the couch. she still lay on the floor, the book covering her face. kiyoshi's eyes rested on her abdomen, which was bare open as the shirt had risen up due to the fall. he'd cut his hands off before he thought of touching her. or so he thought. he pulled her shirt back on her stomach, covering it properly

"get up. you'll sprain your neck," he said

she simply looked at him from above the edge of the book. "kiyoshi..." 

his name from her mouth was the most beautiful sound he'd heard

"mmm?"

"can I keep this book forever? it's perfect," she asked

kiyoshi laughed. "imayoshi would kill me"

she got up and sat beside him

"this book is amazing. i wrote nine pages, kiyoshi. nine! that's the best I've done this month!"

"that sure is something. how much is left?" he asked

"oh i finished the assignment two hours ago"

"hah? then wyd rn?"

she gave him a cheeky smile "i love this book. I'm dissecting it. for curiosity"

"fuck… you really love studying don't you" kiyoshi sighed to himself

"i love putting effort into learning."

"that's very nice… aren't you sleepy?"

"no. I've never felt more awake. ik i keep talking about the book but you have no idea how much it means to me".

"glad i know now."

they sat in silence for a while. kiyoshi asked her if she wanted pizza. her response, a classic, was that all the knowledge had made her full. he snorted and got up to pick up the plate

while he ate, she narrated some of her observations in the book he'd given her versus the book she was using before. kiyoshi didn't understand a single thing. but the sight of her being eager to talk to him made him feel as if he could learn the law in a single night

y/n realised that she'd been rambling about her notes to a man who probably was asleep by now. when she peered at him, she found him staring at her with a small smile. an innocent, humble, and warm smile. it was then that she noticed how peculiarly gleaming his eyes were. it changed his whole appearance. his hair, perhaps due to the tossing in bed, was more wild than usual

"did i bore you?" she asked,

"you could never," he said in a raspy voice. his head was resting on his elbow that dangled on the seat of the couch, showing his long, attractive neck

"so you were actually listening to all of it?"

"yes"

"oya? then tell me how the anthropomorphic backdrop of a nation's political identity helped shape its legal functioning regarding individual rights and freedoms?"

"tomato garlic pepper. that's what happened."

y/n grinned at his pathetic description of a pizza. but who was she to complain? she swatted his chest, which was covered by a soft pink hoodie. pink looked good on him, she thought. he laughed heartily

"sorry for keeping you awake, kiyoshi."

"I'm not. talk more if you want to."

y/n softened at his comment. how could he be so kind? for a fraction of a second, she thought about how hanamiya, despite being so smart, never bothered to listen to her worries or comments. whether it be about her studies or in general. sure, he was affectionate, but he wasn't considerate. y/n didn't always want the expensive dates and overpriced gifts. hell, one time she wanted a mug of coffee and hanamiya ended up taking her to a french bistro, ordering a platter of fancy french delicacies. y/n indirectly sought the decent comfort she found in the cafe at other places. she knew now that it wasn't entirely the cafe. it was kiyoshi. kiyoshi teppei made her feel comfortable and at ease with herself, no matter where they were. she noticed how he matched her energy effortlessly. if she was studying, he'd turn the music low, adjust the temperature, and quietly place her coffee on the table. if she was taking a break, he'd replace the coffee with a glass of water, placing a small snack or two. she noticed how the window seat table was never occupied unless she sat there. when y/n wasn't studying, kiyoshi would try his best to keep her company or asked hyuuga to do so. she didn't realise how comfortable and nice these little acts were until she couldn't find them anywhere else, with anyone else...

I'm deadass writing a novel here... next part coming up!

[astranne]

Jason Todd, the Idol

notes // after ranting over my drafts, then wonho, then jason again and then connecting the dots- here i am, with an idol au. jason as an idol, who would've thought. and before you come at me, this is based on the headcanon that sandra woosan is jason's mother. here is a link. this is not edited/proofread, yall are literally reading what i typed and i deleted nothing. enjoy shitty conversations and random grammar mistakes 😌

It happens after he almost gets killed by Batman, again. He almost lost his voice, another scar added to the many he has already. But he survives, he survives goddamn Batman, the fucking Joker, he just... lives another day.

He's bitter, of course, who wouldn't be. But he's especially bitter towards the person who saved him. His mother. His actual mother. Apparently Sheila lied like a bitch she was, may she burn in hell, and his mother was Sandra Woosan. And she finally deemed him worthy to be recognized as her son.

Yeah, well, fuck her too. Fuck her, fuck Talia, fuck the Replacement, just- fuck everybody. Jason is so done, done being played, done dying, done getting hurt over and over again.

While he makes the decision to leave, his biological mother starts to talk about legacy and him learning from her. He can't exactly tell, he stopped listening to her a long time ago.

He left as soon as he could. But then Talia got him and she too started talking about going back to Gotham or joining her, it was his choice after all, she would support him no matter what.

Bullshit.

Jason didn't do anything she said and just left. Once again. Praying to any deity out there he would be actually left alone.

His prayers are answered. Somewhat.

-

He's somewhere in Japan, in a cozy little restaurant, drinking shake and eating awesome ramen. Jason is having a peacful time, until a random teenager plops right next to him and asks him what's wrong with him.

"Don't mind me, but you are gorgerous- like man, who made you?" Jason just stares, not knowing what to answer.

"Alright, who made you sad? Looking like this doesn't do anything for your beauty, I'm telling you."

And Jason just... spills. He tells the stranger how he found out about his birth mother, about his father, and just dumping everything. And the teenager has good advice.

"Just do something that has all of them shaking in rage, because you're doing what you want. And do it fucking good- slay it, show them who the boss is. Write a book, become an actor, a farmer, marry someone- hell, become a buddhist! Just something nothing your shitty parents want from you. Do what you want."

But Jason doesn't know what he wants. Not anymore.

-

He wanders around first, not knowing what do to and where to go. From Japan to Australia, then to Spain, then to Brazil- all around the world, searching for something he wants, while rubbing it everyone faces.

A group of teenager girls help him make his decision.

-

Jason hears them gushing over something, and from what he could hear and see, it was about some famous people? Actors, maybe singers? They are very enthuaiastic about it, which is the reason why he goes up to them and asks them bluntly about it.

They just blink, shocked a man like him would want to know what their talking about, not in a negative way, just simply curious.

Idols. They're talking about idols.

-

Jason decides to become an idol. And he would be fucking good at being an idol.

He is not prepared for the shitshow.

-

He does his research, reads about rumors, goes deep into the fandoms and collects any kind of information that could be helpful.

And once he thinks he's prepared enough, he signs up as a trainee.

-

His trainers and the company quickly realize, how fast Jason learns. When they ask, he just shrugs and goes, "I trained martial arts, dancing is pretty much similar. And singing is easy once you get over stage fright."

They put him in a group close to their debut, announce him and people freak the fuck out.

-

It's his presence, his ease in dancing, that dangerous smile, his eyes, his hair- the white streak, the muscles. And his voice- the smoothness while singing, the roughness when rapping.

He's introduced as Jason, stage name Shiva and quickly becomes the center of his group.

-

Sadly, it doesn't work long with his group.

Classical drama happens, their fans are fighting everyone, the members are doing shit they shouldn’t do and the company disbands the group.

But they don't let go of Jason. Not that he wants them too.

He threatened the CEO of the company, if they don't give him the career he wants to rub in his parents faces, he's going to sue, after destroying him and his lifework. And he will do it without hesitation. The CEO believes him.

-

Shiva starts a solo career. And without a group holding him back, Jason takes over as a K-pop idol.

There are many internet fights about him being a K-pop idol, when he's chinese and american. While fluently speaking korean, japanese, spanish, english and some more languages.

Jason doesn't care about that, it only makes him even more famous. Something he definitely wants. And he gets very famous.

[silentexplorer18]

The Nights I Hold You Close

Summary: As painful memories from your past are brought to the forefront of your mind, you have difficulties sleeping. Feitan notices and provides a surprising amount of support.

Pairing: Feitan Portor x Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, flashbacks, nervousness.

Word Count: 3,000+

Note: I was going through my old drafts and found a few I hadn't posted. I really liked this one, so here it is. Hopefully it brings everyone some joy!

Read on AO3 ▪ Masterlist

Night watch was almost always boring, which was never a good thing. However, lately two things in particular were making it worse. First, your latest mission with the Troupe—the mission you were currently guarding the hideout for—had stirred some deeply unpleasant memories from the forgotten abyss of your psyche, resulting in flashbacks and other horrors you would rather have avoided. Secondly, Feitan, your closest friend and constant night watch partner, had figured out something was off.

In all honesty, you should have expected it. The lack of sleep, the memories that would flood your brain at random times, the emotional overwhelm in your gut that put your whole body on edge, it was all evident in your—still remarkably subtle—body language. Something was off.

The rest of the Troupe hadn’t realized anything was amiss yet, but that wasn’t particularly surprising either. They didn’t know you as well as Feitan did. How that came to be was partially a mystery. When you’d been accepted into the Troupe, natural ability had placed your skills on par with Feitan. Whenever possible, the two of you gravitated toward partnering up. Eventually, when the group parted for individual pursuits, Feitan had contacted you, asking for backup on a mission. You’d been working together off and on ever since.

It was only natural that he’d notice the subtle change in your demeanor and body language. But that didn’t mean you had to like it. Or want it to happen, for that matter.

Your only saving grace was that he hadn’t figured out exactly what was bothering you. However, with the quiet, exhausting nights watching for enemies that would never come, it was only a matter of time before he figured it out. Or asked.

If he asked you directly, you wouldn’t lie. You trusted him, and, although he would never say it, he trusted you to some degree as well. You wouldn’t dare put that trust in jeopardy.

But that didn’t mean the glances he kept giving you weren’t unnerving. It didn’t mean you wanted to tell him the truth, even though you would.

He’d been staying closer than normal. Usually, even when alone on guard duty, he put some space between the two of you, settling for an upper position while you sat in the middle, staring down the hallway. However, lately he’d been right by your side.

“You quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence.

Maybe that was part of why he was figuring things out. You were so tired. The exhaustion had been building for days. The lack of sleep made it more difficult to handle the flashbacks during the day, but sleeping was somehow so much worse.

It was like you were falling and burning all at once. But that’s what you were doing now. It was dark, but oh, so light, nearly blinding behind your eyes. It throbbed against your chest in harsh pulses. A fire? A flame? Your heart? The sun? Yet you were still falling, and your body braced for an impact that would never come. It hurt to breathe, but it didn’t. The screaming was loud but the room was silent. Feitan was silent. Everything was silent.

Your eyes blinked back into focus, seeing again a vision of your friend who was now staring back at you. His eyes were wide, face watching with a surprisingly visible amount of concern. You breathed out through your nose, releasing a breath you hadn’t noticed you were holding.

“Where you go?” he asked gently, watching your vision completely focus in on him again.

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. You hated when it happened in front of other people, especially him. Usually nobody noticed under the cover of darkness, but he was just so damn attentive. “Somewhere I don’t want to be.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. Your hands moved to work the dirt out from under your nails. It was a welcome distraction from your mind.

“I go there too.”

You bit your lip, trying not to look as surprised as you felt. Fei was always one to shy away from emotions rather than bring them up. “How do you make it stop?”

His eyes filled with amusement as he looked at you over his bandana. “If I know, I not go anymore.”

You chuckled. “Fair point.”

Neither of you moved as Uvogin and Nobunaga came down the hall. “Ready to tap out?” Uvo asked with a grin. He was far too excitable for the middle of the night. Nobunaga looked much less jovial.

“Are you sure neither of you want to sleep?” you asked. “I can stay for an extra shift.”

They both shook their heads. “We’ll be fine. Besides, there’s not much else to do around here.”

“Well then,” you hopped up, stretching slightly. “Have fun.”

“Yeah,” Nobu nodded, scratching his chin. “Right.”

You headed down the hallway, the moonlight illuminating your path. Feitan followed alongside you, silent as always. His room came first. Regardless, you wouldn’t be going to your room anyway. The nights were awful when your headspace was unpleasant, so you’d been spending much of the night perched on the windowsill at the end of the hall. There was a pond out that way. In the mornings, you could see ducks. It was peaceful.

When Feitan dropped away from you, you reached above your head, stretching out as you continued down the hallway. Your muscles ached; there was nothing to do but train or play games while waiting for Chrollo’s next set of instructions. Sitting and waiting all day was almost as uncomfortable.

You tucked into the corner of the window, gaze trailing the horizon. The trees rustled in the breeze, water rippling gently. The world was so much more beautiful than you’d ever give it credit for. Despite all the atrocities humans created, nature seemed to make small paradises. If only people like you didn’t exist to tarnish them.

A voice to your right startled you, Feitan staring intently from the shadows. “You not sleep?”

You tried to get by with a shrug. “Don’t feel like it.”

“Why?” He knew the answer, but he wanted you to say it. He had a way of prodding things out of you; he was a master interrogator, after all.

You worked the dirt out from under your nails again, grateful for a way to avoid looking at him. “It’s hard to sleep,” you conceded. “Bad dreams.”

“What you dream about?”

He watched as you hesitated, memories threatening to cascade across your vision again. He didn’t want that to happen; he wanted you to feel better. Although he enjoyed working with Phinks, you were his favorite teammate. He didn’t want you to truly suffer.

“Come with me.” He turned, looking back over his shoulder. “We talk in private.”

You hadn’t intended to follow, but before you completely realized what you were doing, Feitan was ushering you into his makeshift room.

A mat was placed on the floor, blanket folded neatly on top of a pillow. Undoubtedly, all of it was stolen. Like the rest of the Troupe, he only brought what he could carry on his person. Everyone traveled light.

He pointed to the mat expectantly, and you sat on the edge of it. He settled beside you, gaze gentle but expectant. “You not tell me what you dream about?”

You bit your lip. Although you trusted Feitan, your dreams were intense, almost too much to verbalize.

He nodded, your silence the answer he needed. Then he frowned, appearing to be deep in thought before turning back to you. “You no need to. But tell why dreams bother you.”

Why they bothered you? “I… I wake feeling frightened and…” you searched for the right word, tongue swiping across your lip as you avoided his gaze. “Alone.”

“You sleep here tonight?” he offered. To anyone else, he would’ve sounded nonchalant and uncaring, but the fact that he offered was jarringly compassionate in and of itself. He stood, walking away from the mat towards the other side of the room. It wasn’t large, but there was enough to create a sizable distance between the two of you.

But it was too much, too nice of him. You were a Hunter. You were a Spider. You should have been able to handle something as trivial—and common to both of those professions—as nightmares. “I couldn’t impose,” you said, already moving to stand up. Your room was just down the hall. “It would be a hindrance to you.” If you ran, you could probably beat him down the hall, though not into your room. “It wouldn’t be right—”

His expression stopped you in your tracks. “We are team. You need sleep. I think you feel better not so alone.” The look in his eyes was one of challenge, no, determination. He wanted you to stay. Then his lips upturned, eyes lighting with mischief. “Better for Spiders, too. You no work well when tired. Too cranky.”

You scoffed in indignation, eyes only slightly teasing. “Fine, then. Maybe I will stay, let your sleep suffer on purpose.”

He nodded, satisfied, and you inwardly grumbled. He’d only pushed your buttons to get you to stay. It seemed fitting his Nen didn’t lend well to manipulation; his personality could handle that all on its own.

“You change?” he asked, hiding how much your glowering amused him behind his bandana.

Oh. You hadn’t thought about that. You didn’t have a blanket, so you’d been sleeping in all your clothes. But Feitan had stolen something thick and fluffy to use as a blanket. You’d probably be too warm as you were. Your jacket would be too much. Even your overshirt might be too warm with your long pants on.

“Yes, if that’s okay with you.”

He turned without a word, back toward you. He trusted you completely. The realization was almost enough to make you dizzy. Quickly, you removed your overshirt and jacket, leaving you in an undershirt. It was modest, but still the most unkempt he’d seen you yet.

“I’m done.”

He turned as you snuggled under the blanket on one half of the mat, resting on your side. Slowly, he slid down the wall, sitting on a stone. His head leaned back against the cement, eyes closed, breathing already evening out. But you wouldn’t allow that.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleep. What you need to do, too.”

“Then why aren’t you getting into bed?”

He peeked an eye open at that. When your gaze remained unwavering, he shook his head. No.

“If you don’t want to, I’m going,” you said, already shifting to stand up. “I’m not stealing your bed from you, Feitan.”

Sighing, he stood, undressing. You froze, watching as he moved methodically. When his chest and shoulders were bare, clad in nothing but a pair of pants, he settled in beside you. “You too stubborn.”

You grinned. “Yet somehow you still like me anyway.”

“Miracle can happen.”

His hands rested across his stomach, lying on his back. On your side, you admired him for a moment. Feitan was easily the most skilled person you’d ever met. But it was more than that. Whatever tentative friendship the pair of you had formed made your heart light. With him, you felt seen and understood in a way you seldom were. Even when he didn’t know exactly what to do, he still managed to do it. Closing your eyes, you gave him a reprieve, succumbing to the cumulative fatigue a few minutes later.

~

You woke warm, the sun just beginning to filter through the grime-coated windows. It took a moment for you to realize it wasn’t your room, and you could have laughed. Of course Feitan would find the only room in a deteriorating building that had fully intact windows. He was acutely aware of personal safety.

Feitan.

Eyes widening, you realized whose chest you were lying across. His arms were above his head, not touching you. Sneaking a glance, you saw his eyes were closed against the morning light, resting but not asleep.

He must have been acutely aware of your position on his body.

Someone as skilled as he was in combat wouldn’t have completely slept, especially not with a body squirming on his torso.

You shifted away, a bolt of nervousness echoing through your chest when his eyes peeked open.

“Sorry,” you whispered, feeling the tone adequate so early in the morning. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He smirked, and the expression in such close proximity made your heart leap. “I not mind. You no move too much.”

But it was enough. Anything within a few meters would have been enough.

“I didn’t want your sleep to suffer for mine.”

He dropped the arm farthest from you, brows furrowing into that trademark frown and fingers smoothing over the edge of the blanket. “You sleep better than alone?”

He always found a way to the core of the issue, deflecting your thoughts back on yourself. But it was true, he had helped like he predicted. “Yes. It was much better than before. Thank you for that. I was so tired.”

He nodded, hair pointing wildly across the pillow. The soft smile on his face, barely there, was enough to tell you he wasn’t upset about the lost sleep.

But still… “I’m sorry I made your sleeping worse, though. I can leave, if you want. Take an extra shift. That’ll give you some time to rest properly.”

His hand caught you, pulling you back into his chest before firmly wrapping around your side. “Stay longer. We get more rest.”

You froze for a moment before nodding against his shoulder, knowing better than to argue against his sharp tongue. After a few moments, you snuggled closer, nerves and adrenaline falling away to peaceful fatigue yet again. You barely heard him ask his next question, but you heard it nonetheless. “Come again tomorrow?”

Your arm slipped around his chest, fingers gently wrapping around his side. “I’d like that.”

So that’s exactly what you did.

But things didn’t go exactly to plan, whatever the plan was. Because it was hot. Too hot. Though it wasn’t your body. Oh, no. It was the fire. The sun. The world was plummeting, and you could hear the screaming. It was too much. You would have ran, but your legs couldn’t find the will to move. Maybe it was the burning. The searing pain in your chest was back. Was it your heart, or something else? It was hard to tell, impossibly hard to know. And yet the screaming continued. That was even worse than the burning, the darkness. It was all too much, but you had to fight back. You just had to. Something had to be done. But your body was falling, and all you could do was brace for impact—

The air was cool against your skin. That was the first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes. It was cool, and goosebumps prickled across your arms. That’s because it was dark; there was no sun.

The second thing you realized was that you were crying. You could only tell because Feitan—who you guiltily realized was already awake and watching you—was blurry.

You sat up, trembling from the adrenaline and the cold. He must have taken the blanket off you when you’d begun to panic. The world was eerily quiet except for your sniffles, ones you attempted to muffle as your eyes watered. It was all too much.

“I’m sorry,” you began, disappointed you’d ruined his sleep two nights in a row. You’d never wanted to burden him more when complying with his wishes. But he interrupted you with a swift raise of his hand.

No. He was telling you no. You shouldn’t apologize.

That only made you cry harder, water dripping from your chin as you muffled your cries with your palm. Tentatively, Feitan’s hand came to rest on your shoulder. When you didn’t brush it away, he kept it there.

It took you several minutes to regain your composure. During that time, his hand stayed firm—but not unkind—on your arm. The pressure was comforting, and when your cries reduced to mere sniffles, he pulled the blanket back over you, moving his hand from your arm in a silent gesture that you could hug him.

You hesitated, damp cheeks glistening in the faint moonlight slipping through the windows. He’d already done so much for you…

He sighed at the contemplation on your face. “It no bother. Me want to.” His hold was sturdy and sure, chest grounding under your cheek as he laid down with you. “You need to talk?”

Your eyelashes fluttered against his skin as you shook your head. “Not really.” After a beat of silence that threatened to allow your mind to wander, you bit your lip, snuggling a little closer. “But… could you?”

The silence you received in return almost made you tremble, embarrassment coursing through your body nearly as strongly as the adrenaline had.

But then he spoke. Melodious words flowed from his tongue, words foreign to your ear, but beautiful nonetheless. While chasing away your demons, he pacified his own, telling you the things he couldn’t find the words to say in English. In those whispered words, he poured more of his heart to you than he had to anyone ever before. As your breath fanned across his chest and his arms rested securely against your body, he told you everything he could think of, sounding much more eloquent to your ear than his own.

When it finally felt like his voice might go hoarse, he stopped, pulling you a little closer against him. He knew you weren’t asleep yet, but you were close enough that he hoped the silence wouldn’t bother you.

However, before you could succumb completely to your fatigue, you found the hand on his stomach, squeezing it gently in thanks. “Fei?” you mumbled. “What does that word mean?” You repeated if for him, feeling him tense slightly under your body. He’d used it so many times before, muttering it under his breath on missions with you. In his whispered ramblings, he’d repeated it over and over.

He could lie to you, but he wouldn’t. There was no way he’d jeopardize your trust like that.

Closing his eyes, he squeezed you a little tighter, willing you to understand all the words he had and hadn't said.

“Love. It translate to love.”

Masterlist

[egcdeath]

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader 

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone. 

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub. 

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance. 

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black. 

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain. 

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream. 

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall. 

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted. 

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him? 

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.” 

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug. 

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you. 

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink. 

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth. 

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders. 

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

[gaudiasolis]

Hidden Spaces

So I’ve never written anything before but after reading SW and then literally any related fic I can find I have become, in short, a little obsessed. I thought that I would give it a whirls so pls be nice - here’s some anxious Lo. Also, I have nothing more than GCSE french so apologies in advance. 

Credit ofc to the amazing @lumosinlove

cw:anxiety (please let me know if there are any more or I should do that differently - this is my first post - I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable!) 

Logan had been feeling off for the last couple of days. It had snuck up on him, that familiar gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. The first sign that it wasn’t going to go away was this morning, as he moved on autopilot round the kitchen trying to make his morning coffee. Both his boys were already up and pottering about getting ready for practice, Logan, however, had been up for hours. He was ready and had been for almost an hour but he was stuck in his head, his mind spinning faster than his body could move. 

This feeling wasn’t new and he suspected that it wouldn’t be going away any time soon but he stuffed it down and out of his mind knowing that he could buy himself some time with a distraction, something to nudge his mind away from a complete spiral. 

Unbeknownst to Leo and Finn, Logan had been collecting a list of calming, panic relieving techniques hidden at the bottom of a shopping list note in his phone. Some of the tips had come from Heather, the Lion’s sport therapist, but most were things he had picked up over the years from tv shows, social media and many, many google searches. This list didn’t need to be a secret, in fact, Lo knew that sharing some of these things with his boyfriends would probably help all of them but for some reason it had started out a secret and he had kept it that way. 

He reached for his phone now, hearing the soft chattering of Leo and Finn as they brushed their teeth in the bathroom down the hall. The slight shake of his hand should have been the next tip off that this day wasn’t going to go to plan. It took a couple of goes to unlock his phone with his hands sweating but he got it open and found the note, moving his finger harshly up the screen and watching the words blur until they stopped moving revealing a random, and hopefully helpful technique. This one read: break down tasks into simple actions and give yourself the instructions. 

Okay, Logan thought, splaying his hands out on the cool countertop, take a deep breath in, you can do this. He started following the simple instructions in his head to make some coffee for the car ride into Hogwarts: fill the kettle and turn it on, get the travel mug from the draining board, get out a spoon, now the instant coffee granules, and just as he got to ‘get the milk out of the fridge’ his anxiety bubbled too high and he felt his eyes begin to water. 

“Lo, you almost ready to go?” Finn called from the living room. Logan took a deep breath through his nose and replied “Yeah just a sec” hoping that the others couldn’t hear the slight wobble in his voice. It must have worked because Finn’s acknowledging “okayyyyyy” was practically sang back at him as he shoved the lid on the travel mug, still only containing instant coffee grounds but that was the least of Lo’s worries now. 

The car ride into Hogwarts felt like it took forever with Finn sitting shotgun and singing along to the morning radio. Lo could tell that Leo suspected something was up. Normally, Lo would put up some kind of argument about sitting in the back, but this morning he’d just climbed in and put his seatbelt on without a word otherwise. 

Leo’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror as he backed out of the driveway in front of their apartment block. The concern on Leo’s face was clear and Lo didn’t think he could handle being asked if he was alright so he turned his head and pointedly stared out of the window for the rest of the ride, his hands almost white as they clutched his travel mug looking for some kind of grounding, something to feel to bring his focus back. 

The moment they pulled into Leo’s parking spot in Hogwarts Logan was out of the car, leaving his hockey stuff and his boys behind him, ignoring the concerned shouts from Leo and Finn as he took off across the car park.

Lo wanted to run, to hide, to get away from anyone who might ask him questions, want him to talk. However, Logan was well prepared to hide in Hogwarts stadium. One of the first things he had done upon being drafted was explore and make note of all the nooks and crannies that would perfectly fit a Logan shaped hockey player in need of hiding. 

The only person who had ever been able to find him was Dumo, and he made sure not to go anywhere that Dumo had found him before. So Lo kept walking, legs shaking, until he found himself almost at the top of the stadium, right in the nosebleed seats, he picked a row of seats where he could see the doorway but anybody on the rink couldn’t see him and sat down hard on the floor breathing long ragged breaths. 

The look on Leo and Finn’s faces as they rushed into the locker room stopped Dumo in his tracks from where he was stood chatting to Sirius by his stall - “Ça va?”. Dumo looked expectantly behind the pair as their eyes raked back and forward across the room - searching. “Où est Logan?” Dumo asked quietly but sternly. 

The busy locker room continued to bustle around them with only Dumo and Sirius keyed into the presence of a potential situation. Finn opened his mouth to speak but ended up taking several short breaths and swallowing hard as he stumbled out the words “He didn’t - didn’t come in here?”.

Leo placed a hand on Finn’s shoulder and gently took his kit bag from him, dropping it to the floor next to where he’d put his and Lo’s. He spoke softly “He’s here somewhere, he has to be. It’ll be fine” the concern in his voice came through as he practically whispered the last bit “- we’ll just go and look around a bit- right Fish?” The four of them left the locker room, with Dumo stopping to catch coach in the hallway and explain what they were doing. Coach Weasley nodded asking Dumo to let him know when they found Lo but otherwise the four of them were excused from practice that morning. 

Leo and Finn practically sprinted off down the hallway, with Dumo and Sirius having to run and catch hold of them - “We need a plan” Sirius said clearly still grasping Finn’s arm. Finn’s head turned to Dumo - “You know where he normally goes right? Where should we be heading?”. Dumo rattles off the list of places he’s found Lo in before and suggests they split up with Leo and Finn starting in the basement and working up and him and Sirius doing the opposite and working their way down from the top.  

Logan wasn’t even sure he was awake anymore - wasn’t sure he was present in this world. All he could think about was trying to breath, the cold concrete floor leaching warmth from him. The world around him had become a constant buzz with sounds blending together - he could distinguish shouts from the rink and tried to focus on putting names to voices. He could hear James, for sure, his laugh echoing across the stadium as he teased someone - Kasey maybe? Talker? 

He thought he could hear Sirius but the voice was off. It wasn't a shout, it was too quiet. “Logan, Lo, hey Logan can you hear me?”. That was definitely Sirius. “You’re okay, hey Lo, just breath, it's me Cap - you’re okay.” Logan could feel himself coming back, his mind chasing Sirius’ voice grounding him. Sirius’ voice, softer than he’d ever heard it kept repeating comforts and reassurances. Then Lo could hear another voice - this one he knew instantly - this one meant home and safety - Dumo. 

Lo’s fingers still tingled as he tried to move them - to get some sort of sensation back. Suddenly warm hands were wrapped around his slowly rubbing them and the familiar smell of the Dumais household appeared around him. “Mon fils - c’est moi - peux-tu m'entendre?” 

Lo opened his eyes to the familiar loving face of Pascal Dumais and felt the slow calming relief of safety as two arms scooped him up into a hug. Lo sat like that, curled up silently sobbing, in Dumo’s arms as Sirius pulled out his phone to call Leo and Finn. 

Lo could hear the frantic voices of his boyfriends coming from Sirius’ phone as he reassured them that Lo was okay. Lo whined slightly, his heart and breathing rate rising and his face falling - Dumo quickly moved to reassure him that it was fine and that Leo and Finn were just worried and Lo didn’t need to worry about that. 

Sirius nodded to Dumo and said something Lo didn’t quite catch - Dumo leaned down and asked softly if Lo thought he could walk yet - with Lo’s slight shake off the head Dumo lifted him up and the three of them made their way down through Hogwarts to meet Leo and Finn at the car park with Sirius jogging ahead and sending anyone they came across in the other direction. 

As Dumo approached Leo’s car the sound of his boyfriends voices roused Lo and he reached out his arms for Finn to take him. The soft warm love of his boyfriends’ radiating his way with the comforting murmur of reassurances whispered into his ear as Finn attempted to climb into the backseat without relenting his hold on Lo. Leo pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and climbed into the driver's seat. Dumo moved to close the door fixing Lo with a loving look - “call me any time, mon fils - you always have a home with us, oui - je t’aime toujours”. 

The rest of the day was spent with the boys curled up on their sofa, Lo squished between his loves, with lots of cuddling and soft kisses as they binge watch all three Bridget Jones films letting Lo know that he’s always loved and can take his time talking or not talking about what’s going on.

[holidaywishes]

Turning Page

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: Please, please, please do 13. “your love is my turning page / where only the sweetest words remain” (turning page, sleeping at last) from the music prompt list with Freddie Andersen! I love everything that you write about him ! 💕

  Warning: angst, fluff, soft Freddie

  Author’s Note: I wanted to find a GIF of Freddie looking *wistfully* at the reader because that’s the vibe I got from this song upon first listen and this GIF really hit hard. I did a tiny bit of research on this song, as I often do for my fics, to see if it meant something to the songwriter and that’s when I found it was written for Twilight. It’s been like a decade since I’ve watched any of those movies so I had completely forgotten that any song other than Christina Perri’s a thousand years was used for Breaking Down... That being said, I still think this is a beautiful song that led itself quite wonderfully to some fluff. I didn’t want it to be a wedding though and I had to really stop myself for writing it that way and honestly, the angst kind of got away from me in this one, whoops! If you’d like to request a song prompt, for hockey players or characters from your favourite movies/TV shows, send ‘em my way and I will work on them! Stay Golden, loves! <3

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

  the song prompt masterlist

xx

Freddie’s P.O.V

  You met (Y/N) when you were 10 years old on her fifth birthday party. She had ribbons in her ponytails that intertwined with her soft hair easily and you laughed at the way she took a bow from one of her gifts to add it to the top of her head with a smile. A smile that permanently etched itself in your brain for years. She was the one who kept the friendship going after that day, saying she was curious about ‘Denmark’s Hockey Family’

  “I don’t know anything about Hockey” she said in her soft, almost squeaky, voice. You chuckled at her insistence but agreed to let her come to a few practices and teach her some things. After ten years, the two of you had become closer than you ever thought you would

  “Would you ever move to the States? Or Canada?” you asked and she scoffed at your question

  “Why?” she asked, adjusting the blanket on her lap while the two of you watched a movie

  “You know I want to go into the NHL...” you stammered, wondering if she’d say you were too old, at 20 years old, to get drafted

  “I know” was all she responded

  “Yeah...” you continued, rolling your eyes when she didn’t say anything more, “well, would you?”

  “Would I what?”

  “(Y/N)...” you laughed, “would you ever move there? like if I got drafted, would yo--”

  “Would I go with you?” she interrupted, finally understanding your point, “would you want me to?”

  “Well... yeah. I mean, if you wanted to. It would just be nice to have someone there... Who knew me, who knows me..” you stammered, keeping your head turned away from hers so you couldn’t see her reaction

  “Of course I’d go with you,” you could hear the smile on her voice, “I love... watching you play” after that, the two of you worked tirelessly to find out when a scout would be in the area but you worried that your time had passed.

  “FREDDIE!” your mom yelled for you as you sat outside

  “Ma?” you called back, rushing into the house to see what was wrong

  “THE DRAFT...” she screamed

  “Mom, calm down,” you smiled, “what about the draft?”

  “YOU GOT DRAFTED!!!!!!!!!!” (Y/N) screamed as she jumped on you, “OH MY GOD FREDDIE!!!” she peeled back to look at you, her arms wrapping around your neck, “YOU DID IT!”

  “Wh-aat?” you laughed, swinging your body around to watch the TV, “where?”

  “Anaheim!” your mom exclaimed and you took a deep breath, still not having set (Y/N) down

  “Well, shi--” you started, before catching your mom’s glare, “I mean... I guess I’m going to California!”

  “We’re so proud of you!” your parents smiled before walking over to you, enveloping you and (Y/N) together in a hug where you caught the scent of vanilla and coconut

  “So...” (Y/N) whispered in your ear, “does the offer still stand?” you leaned back to see her smiling before you nodded in return. Before you knew it, you were packing up your life to get on a plane and head overseas. She lived with you for a while until she couldn’t handle the girls who kept circling in and out of your apartment; the two of you fought, she cried, you tried to fix it but both of you agreed it was better if you had some space between the two of you. You’d hope she would see that you only wanted her and that the other girls were just there to... keep you warm because the timing was never right with (Y/N). When she was single, you were with someone. When you were single, she was with someone. Seeing her happy with someone else made your heart ache so you found people that would help you waste your time and everything was going fine until (Y/N) met someone

  “He’s from Canada,” she said, “Toronto. He’s an architect!”

  “An architect? Wow” you said, a bit in shock

  “Yeah,” she continued, “we’ve actually been seeing each other for a while now but he’s just been flying back and forth and I don’t think that’s fair. He says he doesn’t mind because he likes to see me, he says it’s the best part of his day actually,” her smile lightened her rambling but you still weren’t sure where she was going with this. “Anyway,” she sighed, “he’s asked me to... move there. With him”

  “Oh” you chuckled, thinking she’d said no. She moved to Anaheim with you, for you. She wouldn’t just leave you, would she?

  “And I said I would...” your eyes went wide as the words left her lips before you dropped your head. “It’s not like I’m forgetting about you,” she giggled, “or like I’m leaving you behind. I’ll still talk to you everyday and we’ll call and FaceTime and text and nothing will change”

  “Except you won’t be here” you scoffed, smiling pathetically to yourself before slumping onto the couch

  “I know, Freddie,” she sighed, sitting next to you and rubbing your back soothingly, “but let’s face it, our schedules are so different as it is. We barely see each other, I mean you didn’t even realize I was dating someone”

  “I’ve been busy!” you challenged

  “I know,” she chuckled, “I know, but that’s the point. I came here for you and I’m so happy that you asked me to come with you and I’m so happy that I’ve been here for you”

  “So why leave?” you argued

  “Because I love this guy!” she exclaimed, “and I don’t know how much longer I can wait around for you to come home so we can finally hang out”

  “FINE!” you said out of pure anger, standing up suddenly

  “Freddie, please,” she said quietly, remaining seated as you paced around the room, “I know this isn’t what either of us expected to happen but it did. I’d be stupid not to see this through.”

  “No, you’re right,” you agreed, bitterness on your tone, “but what if we never see each other again?”

  “Of course we’ll see each other again! Freddie our parents are best friends!”

  “I guess, I just mean...”

  “I promise we’ll see each other” she smiled, finally standing up to place her hand on your cheek. You knew she meant it but, as so often happens, time got away from the two of you and space got in the way. That is, until you got traded to the Maple Leafs

  “Looks like I’ll be coming out your way” you texted her as soon as you got the news

  “What do you mean?” she sent back and you assumed she hadn’t seen the announcement

  “I got traded... I’m coming to Toronto!”

  Incoming call from (Y/N)

  “Hey” you greeted

  “YOU’RE COMING HERE!” she exclaimed, screaming through the phone

  “It looks that way!” you smiled to yourself

  “OH MY GOD!!”

  “Alright, alright,” you laughed, “calm down before you break my eardrums!”

  “I’m sorry,” she giggled and you could imagine her bright smile on the other end of the phone, “I’m just so excited to see you”

  “Me too” you confessed

  “I miss you.”

xx

  It seemed like as soon as you moved to Toronto, things with Seth changed. Like the magic somehow disappeared and you two were just ships passing in the night. You two were only together there for about two months before he said he couldn’t do it anymore and you were left to find somewhere to live on your own; staying in hostels until an affordable apartment was available. You were miserable and you hated yourself for leaving the only safe place you had, with Freddie. A year passed and you were getting a little bit more comfortable in your new hometown, finding your own favourite spots and everything, when you got a random text from Freddie

  “Looks like I’ll be coming out your way” he sent and you furrowed your brow

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got traded... I’m coming to Toronto!” he replied and you couldn’t believe it. You had been in such a slump that you hadn’t been focusing on the Hockey world even though you made sure to follow Fred’s games, so you completely missed hearing about this trade. You weren’t sure about how he felt about it because he had made connections in Anaheim and moving to another city, again, was a lot to handle but that didn’t mean you weren’t happy that you would be able to see him again; to be around him and feel him near you.

  “YOU’RE COMING HERE?!” you yelled as soon as he picked up the phone

  “It looks that way!” he replied and you could hear the smirk on his face coming through. Oh how you missed that smirk

  “OH MY GOD!” you yelled once more, bouncing around at the idea of seeing your best friend again

  “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “calm down before you break my eardrums!”

  “I’m sorry,” you laughed before inhaling calmly, “I’m just so excited to see you”

  “Me too” he said and your heart just about broke. You had always wished he’d say that he felt about you the way that you’d felt about him, that the love you had for him was reciprocated but you’d learned that holding your breath and waiting for him was as worthless a pursuit as ever

  “I miss you” you confessed, hoping he’d say it back but hung your head when he only mumbled something under his breath. You waited patiently for him at the airport, clutching the sign you’d made for him; his name in bold letters covered in glitter that you’d knew would embarrass him. “FREDDIE!!!!” you shouted when you saw him, running to him to jump on him like you did that day in Denmark, dropping your sign in the process

  “HEY!” he exclaimed, dropping his bags to wrap his arms around you, “it’s so good to see you. I’m so happy you’re here!”

  “I can’t believe you’re really here,” you smiled, keeping your legs tightly wrapped around his hips, “I thought I’d never get to hug you again”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed, “and if I do, I’m takin’ you with me”

  “Good”

  “So...” he sighed, putting you down gently and grabbing his bags, “where’s Seth?” His question made you realize you hadn’t told him about the breakup

  “Oh... right. We didn’t last,” you admitted, opening the car door as Freddie chucked his bags in the trunk, “lasted about two weeks.”

  “What?!” he returned as he slammed the trunk

  “Yeah.. he couldn’t deal so we ended things. But it was for the best...” you admitted

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as he got into the passenger seat of your small car

  “I didn’t wanna bother you” you sighed

  “You can always bother me” he confessed and you squeezed his hand with yours before smiling softly at him

  “Thank you” you almost whispered and, just like that, the two of you picked up where you left off. Time went on, he had some bad games, the media tore him apart and you tried to be there for him but he yelled at you or whined that everything was falling apart; you told him to stop being so grumpy but he only growled in return. Everyday, it got a little harder to be with him without actually being with him. You were torturing yourself but you couldn’t stop yourself.

xx

Freddie’s P.O.V

  When Auston suggested you go to Arizona with him while everything was locked down, you asked if (Y/N) wanted to go with you

  “I can’t go with you, Freddie” she laughed

  “Why not?”

  “I wouldn’t want to interrupt... guy time” she joked

  “So you’re just gonna stay here? Alone?” you scoffed

  “Yes,” she admitted, “I have to work anyway. You’ll be back soon enough, I’m sure”

  “Yeah, maybe...” you sighed. Lockdown ended, the qualifiers started, the team didn’t make it through, rumours began to circulate and your relationship with (Y/N) was starting to fray again. You knew you would wait until she was ready, you’d wait a hundred years if you had to, but you needed to at least keep her close -- for fear that she might find another Seth. “Just move in here,” you insisted after finding out her lease was up just before Christmas, “I don’t think you’re gonna find a place during this pandemic”

  “I can’t move in here”

  “And why not?” you chuckled

  “I’ve lived with you before. I can’t really deal with the carousal of girls...”

  “There’s not a carousal of girls” you argued

  “There was in Anaheim” she scoffed

  “It’s different here. I’m different”

  “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then... you move out. No big deal...”

  “Why do you want me to move in?” she asked and you took a minute to think about your answer. Why did you want her to move in? So you could muster up enough courage to tell her you loved her. So she would finally realize her own feelings for you. So the two of you could finally be together the way you should’ve been a long time ago.

  “You’re my best friend” you finally said and it seemed to be enough. New Year’s passed and training camp started and neither of you had admitted any kind of feelings but her smile still made you weak.

  “Carla’s getting married in secret” she laughed, explaining how her friend from work hated the restrictions so much she was gathering a bunch of friends and family in the park for a ‘spur of the moment’ wedding

  “Is it really spur of the moment if she’s planning it?” you teased

  “Yes” she giggled

  “Okay” you laughed in response, watching as her eyes lit up as she talked about the details

  “So are you in?” you heard her ask

  “Hmm?” was all you could say since you had completely lost yourself in her

  “You’re gonna be my date, aren’t you? For the wedding?”

  “Uhh.. I don’t know,” you stammered, “when is it?”

  “I don’t know...” she huffed, “this weekend probably?” You could tell she was upset that you didn’t just agree to go, especially after she was so excited about it. Why couldn’t you just say, of course I’ll be your date!

  “I--”

  “I don’t wanna make you go if you don’t wanna go. Don’t feel like you have to, Freddie, just because I asked. You don’t owe me anything”

  “(Y/N), I want to. Of course I’ll go with you. I’m in!”

  “You are?” she questioned, clearly unsure of your answer

  “Always.”

xx

  April was a beautiful time to get married. In the park, as the grass was getting greener, as the birds sang in the trees high above and the sound of wind rustling through the trees was the only sound you could hear.

  “You look beautiful by the way” Freddie whispered to you while you sat, waiting for your friend to walk down the make-shift aisle she’d set up. You blushed at Freddie’s compliment before nudging his shoulder with yours and thanking him

  “You don’t look so bad yourself” you smiled

  “Why thank you!” he teased

  “Oh! Here we go” you exclaimed when the music began and Carla made her way to her soon-to-be husband. “She looks beautiful”

  “Are you crying already?” Freddie laughed

  “No... shut up” you scoffed as you admitted that you were, indeed, crying; you couldn’t help it, it was all so beautiful. Once the ceremony was done and they were officially married, Carla and her now husband, Clinton, invited everyone to their house for drinks and appetizers — their reception.

  “She’s trying to get us arrested” Freddie joked, referring to the quarantine rules that had to be reinforced the week prior

  “She wants to see how many of us will fit in a cell for sure” you added

  “As long as we manage to get drunk before they arrest us,” he smiled, “otherwise, it’s all for nothing.” The were no calls, no complaints, and the small group was allowed to celebrate as long and as loud as you wanted. You all did the obligatory chicken dance and cha-cha slide to really hone in on the ‘wedding vibes’ before eventually moving to slow dances. “Dance with me?” Freddie smiled at you with his hand palm up in front of you

  “I thought you’d never ask” you giggled, taking his hand and following him onto the open space that was being used as a dance floor

  “What I’ve been living for...” the song played in the background as you swayed with Freddie, pulling back to look at him once before he smiled at you.

  “What?” He chuckled

  “You’re just... I missed this” you hesitated

  “Have we danced at a wedding together before?” He joked, earning a playful scoff from you

  “I meant I miss us” you admitted, dropping your head onto his chest

  “I never went anywhere,” he said with a bite to his words, “you did.”

  “Freddie...” you furrowed your brow as you lifted your head off his chest, shaking your head as his hands moved away from you, “I didn’t... it’s not like that. I gave you—”

  “You gave me space. I didn’t need space, I didn’t want space” he sneered and you awkwardly smiled at the faces around you before pulling his arm

  “This is not the place for this”

  “You left, not me. You’re the one who stopped us from... having time together”

  “What?” you huffed, shaking your head in confusion, “I didn’t want to give you space, Fred, but you never did anything! You were so focused on Hockey and the life that you made in Anaheim that it didn’t matter how much I was there, you didn’t have time for me. I got the message. I found someone and, yes, I left to try to make it work with him. It didn’t. And now you’re here, and you’re arguing with me because of... what?”

  “What do you mean I never did anything??” it was all he focused on and you could only laugh in response

  “I gave you every chance to do something. I moved across the world for you and you never did anything”

  “NEITHER DID YOU!” he yelled, veins beginning to pop out of his neck

  “I WANTED YOU TO DO SOMETHING FIRST!”

  “WHY?!?!”

  “BECAUSE I DIDN’T KNOW HOW YOU FELT AND I DIDN’T WANT TO EMBARRASS MYSELF OR RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP!”

  “YEAH WELL... I DIDN’T KNOW THAT” he yelled before clearing his throat and calming himself down. “How ‘bout I tell you now?” he said softly as you trained your eyes on his face, “your smile is the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I see when I go to sleep. The smell of your shampoo and your body lotion mix together and I can smell coconut and vanilla for weeks on end without it being anywhere close to me. I hated seeing you with... anyone else because you weren’t with me but I wanted you to be happy. I don’t know how long I’ve loved you but I know that I’m not the same without you. Without you around. Without you with me, near me, beside me, sharing everything with me, dancing with me, laughing with me. You have no idea how many times I wish I would’ve done something sooner, taken charge of my feelings and just told you how I felt — because I should’ve — but I was scared. I just hoped that you’d say it first so that I could hug you and kiss you and finally call you mine” he finally finished his proclamation and you were left completely speechless. “So...” he smirked, having just laid his heart out in front of you, “what do you have to say?”

  “I’m not a possession...” you mumbled

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know you could be so sweet,” you smiled, feeling a warmness in your chest, “I mean I knew you were a big teddy bear but I didn’t know you could be... this sweet” you repeated. “I love you, too, Freddie. I don’t know for how long either but I know that hearing what you said just now, after all this time, was exactly what I needed to tell you how much I love you. How whenever I hear your voice, my heart melts and my body buzzes or how whenever I see your smile I mentally take as many pictures as I can because I don’t know when you’ll let me see it again willingly. I tried to replace you with other people because I never thought you’d ever want me but now here you are, in front of me, saying the sweetest words I’ve ever heard and I’ve never loved you more” you took a breath and waited for him to say something else when you noticed the corners of his lips turn up into a smile before he walked toward you

  “I love you” he placed his hands on the sides of your neck, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks before he leaned down and connected his lips to yours; finally, was all you could think.

  “I love you, too” you smiled when he finally broke the kiss, trailing your hands up his arms to rest them on his shoulders. “I can’t believe it took you two continents, three countries and 22 years to do something”

  “Guess I just needed a push” he whispered against your lips as he moved to pick you up, wrapping his arms under your butt and bringing your chest as close to him as possible

  “I guess so” you whispered back, your hands lingering on his neck until your fingers found his hair, “better late than never.”

[athenasbloodyspear]

Say Something to Stop Me: Chapter 4

Writing Master List | Say Something to Stop Me Master List

Please note: This fic describes depression, anxiety, panic attacks, past/referenced non con and domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion.

The drive to the dive bar down the road from the compound was short. Well, it was short when Bucky was definitely driving 100 miles an hour.

Your hair whipped in the wind behind you and you could feel the deep rumble of the bike underneath you.

“I didn’t think you’d be this scared.” Bucky yelled over the sound of the engine and the wind. “C’mon Doll. Open your eyes.”

You peeled your face away from his shoulder blades and opened your eyes. If you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t kept your face buried in his back because you were scared. He just smelled so goddamn good. Like leather and spice. Clean. It had felt nice, to just feel the wind and him.

Now that your eyes were open however, you realized how gorgeous the tree lined road looked right now. It was just at the beginning of fall and the leaves had started to change into brilliant reds, oranges and yellows.

“Wow…” you muttered. The wind tore the words away as you breathed in the crisp air and looked all around you. “It’s gorgeous.”

You looked forward again and caught Bucky glancing at you over his shoulder. “Yeah. It is.” He murmured back. Just loud enough to be heard over the engine and the wind.

Bucky shifted the engine down as you approached the little dive bar that was tucked back in the woods. You hadn’t been here in over two years, but it was still exactly as you remembered it. Dilapidated old sign out front, mostly motorcycles and old pick-up trucks in the parking lot. There were a few groups of men standing outside smoking cigarettes.

Bucky pulled into the dirt lot and found a spot to park his bike. You stepped off, surprised at how your legs felt slightly like jelly after being wrapped around that rumbling machine for a while.

The men smoking outside the bar all seemed to be looking your way. Some discreetly, some openly staring at the two of you. Did they recognize you? You supposed two Avengers at the bar down the street from the compound were probably pretty recognizable. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through your hair self consciously. Who cares what these random men thought of your tousled hair, right?

Bucky stepped off the bike and threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. “Alright little lady, lets get some grub.”

He steered you straight through the crowd of smoke and men and opened the front door for you.

“Thanks” you mumbled and stepped into the dim light of the bar.

It smelled like stale cigarettes and old beer. There were pool tables to your right, and some low tables to your left with booths lining the left wall. Straight in front of you was a long wooden bar with two incredible beefy and tattooed men as bartenders. A jukebox near the back wall was playing old 70’s music. You loved it instantly. You took a deep breath in through your nose, relishing in the old school grunge of it all.

You walked toward a booth in the corner of the bar that had a good view of the door. You knew it was unlikely that anyone would try to attack the both of you at a bar down the road from your own compound, but you had a hard time feeling comfortable in public spaces unless you could see all the entrances and exits. You knew Bucky would feel the same.

You slid into the booth and grabbed one of the dirty menus that was tucked between the ketchup and mustard bottles on the table. Bucky slid into his seat across from you and pulled off his jacket. It was a damn shame that you couldn’t see his shirt rise up again from this angle.

“I’m going to order probably three burgers.” Bucky said “I’m starved after that giant beat the crap out of me this morning.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, he was so busy telling me about which members of the court had been keeping secret love affairs this afternoon I never got lunch.”

Bucky laughed “That’s right! How did face masks with the demi-god go this afternoon?”

“It was great.” You smiled. “I missed him.” You looked up from the menu and saw that Bucky was staring at you with a soft, almost melancholy smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just nice to see you smile like that again. I’m a little jealous that the giant brute is the one who made you smile, but I’d let him beat the shit out of me every day if that’s what it took to see you light up again.” Bucky said this so casually, grabbing a menu to look at it, but your heart skipped several beats.

Bucky? Jealous? Of Thor??

“I mean, I wouldn’t complain if I had to watch the two of you go at it everyday.” You really wouldn’t. Seeing Bucky fight did have a strange effect on you. He was always so confident in his movements, never second guessing a punch or a dodge. Plus there was the bonus of seeing him all sweaty and panting. It really did something to you, not that you’d admit it out loud.

“Yeah. I bet you wouldn’t.” Bucky looked at you over the top of his menu and winked.

Again, what was it with every fucking room you were in together and it getting about 20 degrees warmer when he looked at you?

You forced your eyes back down the menu. You decided you’d get a burger too, and a side of fries, and maybe a beer. You plopped the menu down and looked around the bar. You took your jacket off as well. Your body temperature had risen and the last thing you wanted was to start noticeably sweating right now.

Bucky plopped his menu down too and folded his hands on the table top. You kept looking around the bar. You were still warm from his admission and couldn’t muster up the strength to look him in the eye.

“I missed you.” Bucky says suddenly. You whip your head toward him.

“You did?”

“Of course I did, you brat. I told you before. I had a lot of fun in Budapest. Going to those bars and sitting along the river. It had been a while since I had just enjoyed being somewhere without looking over my shoulder.” You flushed again. How could he sit there so calmly and say something like that to you? Did he know how hard your heart was beating in your chest? “Then I didn’t hear from you for a while. It freaked me out, you know? I started to wonder if I had imagined that whole trip.”

“Oh fuck, Bucky. No it was great. I had a really great time too. I’m sorry. When I got back things kinda… well shit hit the fan I guess…”

You got cut off by one of the large tattooed bartenders approaching your table. You turned to look at him, but Bucky’s eyes stayed on you.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender grunted.

“Um hey. Yeah. Can I get a double cheeseburger, a large order of fries and whatever lager you guys have on tap?”

The bartender just grunted again, scribbling on a tiny notepad. “And you?”

“Can I get three bacon cheeseburgers, a large order of onion rings and a jack and coke?” Bucky still hadn’t taken his eyes off you while he ordered. You were looking at the table, having a hard time looking him in the eye, but you could see him staring at you out of your peripheral vision.

The bartender grunted again as he walked away, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that Bucky had just ordered three whole cheeseburgers to himself. Maybe Bucky came here a lot and he was used to it? Your chest pinched a bit at the thought that you didn’t know if Bucky came here a lot or not.

“So, shit hit the fan?” Bucky prompted. You looked back up at him.

“Uh. Yeah. I came home to kind of a rough situation. I uh… didn’t handle it well. Then I was just sort of embarrassed and didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I think I created a negative feedback loop for myself. The more I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, the more I pushed myself away from you all and then I felt even less comfortable trying to talk to anyone.”

“I get it.” Bucky said. Finally pulling his eyes from you to glance around the bar. “I wasn’t exactly great at talking about things when I first got here either, you know.”

You tilted your head a bit as you stared at his profile. The soft colored light coming from the many neon beer signs hung above the bar cast shadows across his jaw and cheekbones. He looked like a greek god, or something out of an old movie from the 70’s. Maybe both.

You really thought about it then. Bucky was right. He had been pretty quiet and reserved when he had first gotten here, almost like he didn’t trust himself to speak in front of others. When he’d come back from Wakanda he had been a little more peaceful and talkative, but it had taken a few months for him to really open up.

When you two had been in Budapest was when you finally got to know more about him on a deeper level than before. It had been the first time that you had been on an extended mission just the two of you. A month, sharing a little safe house in a busy neighborhood of Budapest, tracking a few operatives for Tony. It was a little overkill to have you both there, but Steve had insisted it would be safer for both of you to be there since they didn’t have anywhere else to send people at the moment.

For a month you two had spent your afternoons tailing people around the city and your evenings sipping unicum while sitting at cafes along the river. You had talked about nearly everything under the sun. He had told you about his time in Wakanda, tending goats and reading every novel he could get his hands on. You had laughed at the thought of Bucky taking care of goats everyday, but he had said it was nice to get away from the world and just focus on taking care of something else for a change.

You had told him about how you started at SHIELD as a low level agent and filled in the holes of what he knew about your promotions and being added to the team. You’d commiserated about how painful the serum transition was, and how much you both loved that stubborn stick-in-the-mud Steve. He’d told you about when they were kids growing up in Brooklyn, about him being drafted for the war. He’d never enlisted because he didn’t want Steve to be left behind, but he was drafted anyway. (Steve still had no idea he hadn’t made the choice himself.) He told you about the adventures of the Howling Commandos and he even spoke a bit about his time with Hydra.

“I know, Buck.” You sighed, dropping your eyes to look at your hands. You started picking at your cuticles to keep your hands from shaking. You felt a small twinge in your stomach. Bucky had been so open with you in Budapest. Something he rarely was with anyone, and you hadn’t been in return.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Bucky murmured. You glanced back up at him. He was looking at you again. He didn’t have an ounce of judgement in his eyes. He was just there, allowing you space to be honest with him. Your heart clenched in your chest.

“He didn’t want anything to do with the Avengers.” You sighed finally. Your blood was rushing in your ears, it felt like a panic attack was coming on but you had a deep desire to finally say this to him. He had been so patient and honest with you, it was time to return it. “He hated you. All of you. So much. When I had first been moved to work more directly with the team was the first time that we got into a fight. Like a real fight.”

Bucky shifted a bit in his seat across from you, but stayed silent.

You continued. “He was always angry with me whenever I brought you guys up. Always saying things about how you were all superhuman and didn’t know how to be normal people. That you were all just meatheads with hero complexes. Whenever we would argue and I would happen to slip up and mention one of you he would lose his mind. Just screaming at me to stop comparing him to you ‘freaks.’” You took a deep breath. “So I just started to hide shit from him. When I kept getting promoted, I just told him it was in a different department, that I wasn’t working with the Avengers anymore. He never really asked about work anyway so it wasn’t that hard to keep it a secret.”

You glanced up at Bucky then. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was staring out across the bar with his jaw tightly clenched. His hands were fisted where they rested on the table.

“How long were you together?” Bucky asked through clenched teeth.

“My whole adult life.” He looked at you again, the smallest amount of surprise on his face. “We met in highschool. We were just friends until I went to college. He had just showed up at my dorm one day at Harvard and told me that he couldn’t stand the thought of me being with anyone else. We had been dating ever since. Right before I joined the Avengers as a full fledged team member he proposed and we moved in together.”

Bucky hummed in response to that information, tearing his eyes from you to look back over the bar. “So, why didn’t anyone know this?”

“Tony knew.” You responded. “Well… he knew enough. That I was with someone who wanted to be kept away from the world of SHIELD. I didn’t really tell anyone else because I knew if he found out that I talked about him to any of you he would lose his mind. It just kinda… got away from me I guess. One little secret or half truth just kept piling together until it felt like I was living a double life.”

It was silent for a moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but you were still breathing. That was a good sign. “I’m really sorry Bucky. I never meant to hurt you or keep anything from you--”

“Stop.” Bucky cut you off, looking you directly in the eye again. It felt like he was looking at the very core of your being. “Never ever apologize to me for that. It wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

“Bucky… I--” you started, but you were cut off by the bartender returning with a tray loaded with food. He dropped all your food and drinks at the center of the table with a grunt and walked away.

Bucky reached across the table to squeeze your hand once. “Thank you for telling me.” He grabbed his first burger and dug in. You smiled at him across the table. Your heart squeezed again in your chest. He always knew exactly how to make you feel safe, how far he could push you without hurting you. It was amazing how light and warm you felt around him.

He looked up from his burger and mumbled “What?” through a mouthful of food. You dropped your head back and laughed. A real, warm laugh that bubbled up through your chest. You looked at him again and saw him break into a wide grin, his whole face lit up as his eyes scanned your face.

“Nothing, Buck. I’m just really happy I’m here.” You said as you picked up your burger to finally take a bite.

He swallowed and looked at you for a long moment before saying “I’m really happy you’re here too.”

~0~

You woke up the next morning feeling more refreshed than you had in a really long time. You stretched and smiled up at the ceiling, thinking over the night before.

You and Bucky had spent the rest of your meal chatting and laughing and enjoying each other's company. Bucky filled you in on some missions that had happened while you were away and told you about all the different books he’d read lately. You gave him a highlight reel of Asgardian court drama. He had the most intoxicating laugh. When you really got him going, his nose scrunched up a bit while he giggled and it made your heart flip in your chest.

Suddenly, Friday’s lilt broke through the fog of your daydreaming about Bucky’s smile above you, his chain dangling down from his chest…

“Tony is on his way to your room to discuss something. I thought you may want to get dressed before he arrives. You have approximately 3 minutes before he steps off the elevator on this floor.”

You groaned and shoved your face into your pillow. Both at the direction your thoughts had involuntarily turned, and Friday’s interruption of a wonderful daydream. “Thank you.”

You quickly rushed to your closet to throw on some sweats. You had just stepped back into your room when there was a knock on your door. “It’s open!” You called.

Tony swung open the door and leaned against the door frame “Morning kid.”

“Morning Dad. ” You chuckled, walking over to stand in front of Tony, crossing your arms over your chest. “To what do I owe this early morning honor?”

“First of all, I am not nearly old enough to be your father. Second, you up for a mission? We got a big one. Gonna need a whole team.”

You nearly jumped up and down with joy. Hell yeah you wanted to go on a mission. “First, you may not be old enough, but you and Steve definitely act like my fathers. And second, I thought you’d never ask.”

“Hey” Tony pointed at you. “Captain Righteous is nearly a hundred. He’s at least old enough to be your dad.” You cackled. “Alright suit up and meet us in the conference room. We’re gonna go over the plan and send you all on your way.”

“Right on. Who’s all on board?”

“Flappy bird, megatron, the queen of hearts, Mr. Righteous himself and Archie.”

You laughed out loud again. “Jesus Tony you’re snappy this morning. And you dragged Clint away from home? This must be a big job.”

“I just needed a sharpshooter on the outside to help Sam. It’s a tall building so cover up in the air is gonna be important.” He turned and sauntered back toward the elevator “You got eight minutes to be downstairs kiddo.”

“Aye aye Captain.” You called, turning to rush back to your closet to suit up. You heard Tony yell “I resent that title!” from the hall.

~0~

You hauled ass back down to the conference room, strapping knives to your thighs and guns to your hips as you went. You were in your signature tight kevlar black suit, with a cross body harness around your back with an M429 strapped across your back. You had a glock on both hips and a huge stash of ammo strapped across your chest.

It felt… amazing. It had been so long since you had suited up for real. You felt powerful. No one could touch you when you were dressed like this.

You stepped into the conference room. Just as Tony said, Sam, Bucky, Nat, Cap and Clint were already there, armed to the teeth and ready to rumble.

Clint called out when you stepped in the room “Hey! Long time no see superstar!”

You giggled. “Hey Clint.” You glanced around the room again. Bucky, in his usual mission armor of a thick kevlar jacket and combat pants, was sitting all the way across the room. Combat boots propped up on the conference table, leaning back in his chair.

He didn’t seem to be aware of the way that his eyes were scanning up and down your body, his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip before his eyes caught yours. He flinched slightly, like he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. You smirked at him and saluted before plopping down in the chair at the end of the conference table, adjusting the gun strapped to your back slightly so you could lean back in your chair.

Someone had to be turning up the heat in the compound. Why were you always so fucking hot?

“Alright assholes, here’s the plan. There’s a rumor that there’s some Hydra intel being passed around by a group of high class drug dealers in Croatia.” Tony started off. “And I need you to infiltrate their building and get it.”

“Drug dealers, Tony? You’re sending all of us after some dudes slinging cocaine?” Clint piped up from his spot to Tony’s left. “I am not missing my kids T-ball game for this.”

“Due to how loaded these dudes are, I don’t think cocaine is all they trade Clint. Plus, the building we need you to get in is a skyscraper that’s about 40 stories high and I need you in an adjacent building for cover.”

Tony then proceeded to cover the plan. Sam and Clint would offer cover from the air and nearby buildings. You and Bucky would be a battering team on the inside, clearing a path for Natasha and Steve to get to the main computer mainframe on the top floor. Then, you all would repel down the side of the skyscraper to a nearby helipad where the quinjet would be waiting for you. It was a relatively simple extraction, but Tony had a premonition that the place would be heavily guarded and well equipped.

“Get in, and get out. I’m not overly concerned with the status of any of the dudes in there. Kill if you have to, but don’t worry about bringing every one of them down. I’m more interested in whatever they have on their mainframe that’s making them guard it so heavily. Okay?” Tony finished.

Everyone nodded their affirmatives.

“See you tonight.” Tony remarked as he stepped out of the room.

“Alright everyone, grab whatever else you need. Meet on the jet in five.” Cap said, standing to walk towards the jet to prep for take off.

You all stood and began walking out the back doors to the landing pad where the jet was currently parked, all fueled and ready for your mission. No doubt stocked with any weapons that any of you may need as well as the equipment needed to repel down the side of the building after you’d gotten the information.

Bucky sauntered up next to you as you walked toward the jet and bumped your hip with his. “Nervous?”

You looked at him, feigning outrage. “Are you implying I can’t do my job Barnes?”

He laughed. “No. I think you’re one of the best of us. I’m just saying it’s been, what, a year? Since you’ve put on this tight little suit and shot some people.”

You blushed. “Kicking ass is kinda like riding a bike Bucky. You can’t ever really forget how to do it once you’ve mastered it.”

He let out a humourless chuckle. “Don’t I know it, Doll. Don’t I know it.”

You bumped your hip against his again. “C’mon Barnes. Let’s show these punks how it’s done.”

He looked at you again, a real smile on his face. “Welcome back, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

You just rolled your eyes and walked up the ramp to the jet, plopping into a seat and strapping yourself in.

~0~

After the approximately five hour jet ride to Croatia, you all got out of your seats and stretched a bit. No one chatted much in the flight over there. You all typically took the time to breathe and prepare for the mission, going over schematics and floor plans in your head.

Steve handed Bucky, Nat and you a harness for repelling before pulling one on himself. You stepped into yours pulling the straps up and around your hips, clipping it in front. You began to try to tighten the straps around your thighs when a hand brushed your lower back. Bucky leaned in, his breath ghosting across the back of your neck.

“Here. Let me help.” He reached around your back to grab the strap on your right thigh, his left hand went to the small of your waist to steady you while he tugged roughly, tightening the harness so it was snug on your right hip, then he switched his hand position to tighten the other side. You felt your whole body flush and your abdomen filled with fire. His hands rested on either hip from behind you. “That feel good?” He murmured.

“Yeah. Perfect.” You breathed out. You flushed instantly at how breathless you sounded. Bucky patted your hips twice before turning to grab a few more weapons to strap to yourself. You took a deep breath to try to steady your racing heart, and lifted your eyes. You caught Nat staring at you.

She shook her head softly and gave you a smirk that said “I saw that.” It was almost painful how much you wanted to cover your face with your hands. You had to get your head on straight. You were about to charge into a building where people wanted to kill you. You couldn’t be thinking about how warm Bucky’s hands had felt on your hips, how his chin had lightly brushed the shell of your ear, or the pulsing heat low in your abdomen.

Focus.

“Alright, turn your coms on. Everyone ready?” Cap called from the back of the jet.

You all grunted your affirmatives. You started bouncing on the balls of your feet to warm up your muscles, shaking out your hands.

“Okay. Sam and Clint, you all head out first. We won’t start in until we hear affirmatives that you’re in position.” Cap said. He threw a backpack at Bucky. “Here’s your repelling gear. We’re going in pairs. There’s a clip in there that will strap you to Y/N.”

You looked at Bucky. He just looked back at you with an arrogant smirk and strapped the backpack to his back.

~0~

After Clint and Sam had gotten into position, you and Bucky were up. You both walked down the ramp of the quinjet. Once Nat and Cap exited the jet, it would go into stealth mode and autopilot up to the helipad that you would meet it on, staying hidden from any onlookers.

You and Bucky started your route to the main floor of the building. You’d bust in the back door and clear the main floor of any hostiles, before heading up the east stairwell, keeping it clear so that Steve and Nat could head up behind you to the room with the mainframe.

You both snuck up to the back door, luckily thus far you hadn’t run into anyone. Bucky flipped around so his back was to the wall next to the door. He motioned for you to stand right behind him. He looked at you over his shoulder and whispered “Ready?”

You winked and whispered back “Always.” He grinned and turned back to the door, firing twice at each hinge before rearing back and kicking it in.

Phew. He is so damn good at this.

He pushed in through the door, his gun at the ready and scanned the room. You followed in behind him, your backs together to make sure no one heard his shots and followed in behind you.

“There’s easily eight on this floor. If not more.” He whispered over his shoulder. “You ready?”

“What did I say, Barnes? I’m always ready.”

He chuckled softly. “Alrighty then, sweetheart. Let’s kick some ass.”

You felt his back shift away from yours, you spun ducking behind a half wall and aimed around a corner. As soon as you heard his gun unload, you started picking off hostiles one by one. When you had fired at everyone in your line of sight you popped up to follow the path that Bucky had gunned down in front of you.

You stepped around a corner to get a better look at the open area of the main entrance. Suddenly two arms wrapped around you from behind. One coming to cover your mouth. You grunted and swung an elbow back into the gut of the man who had grabbed you, causing him to falter in his grip. You swung your head back to smash into his nose. You heard a nasty crunch and a scream come from your assailant. Your adrenaline was pounding. You felt so fucking strong.

You whipped around, swinging your M249 back across your back. You swung your left foot out to take out his knees. He collapsed in front of you. You brought your gun back around you and smashed the hilt against the back of his head to make sure he stayed down.

You sensed another assailant to your left and instinctively ducked as he fired directly at your head. You swung around and launched yourself at him, wrapping both legs around his neck and then letting your body fall heavily toward the ground, dragging him to the ground and flipping him at the last second so his body swung hard against the ground. You ripped a glock out of your thigh holster and fired twice into his chest. Breathing hard you looked up to scan your surroundings.

It was just Bucky, standing between two dead operatives, grinning at you. “How do you feel, princess?”

You smiled back at him, panting a bit. “I feel fucking amazing.”

He smirked at you. “That’s my girl.”

You blushed. The fire returned to your abdomen.

Dear fucking god.

“Nat, Cap, we’re clear. We’re going to start our trek up the stairs.” Bucky said into his ear piece. Then he smiled at you again. “Let’s go rockstar.”

You trailed him again, backs together as you moved instinctually against him toward the stairs. It felt so natural to be here. Back softly pressed against Bucky’s, huge gun in your hands, firing on anyone who entered the stairwell below you. Feeling Bucky’s back flex as he fired, and lunged and tossed hostiles over the railing of the spiraling stairwell.

It was like magic when you worked together.

You finally made it to the top level and Bucky kicked the door into a few men who had been blocking the other side. You both whipped through the door. You fired a few shots at a couple of operatives, then slammed the hilt of your gun into the throat of a man who had gotten a little too close for comfort before grabbing him by the front of his jacket and slamming a fist into his nose, knocking him unconscious.

You spun and caught the tail end of Bucky kicking a man in the middle of his chest, hurtling him back into the stairwell and down a flight of stairs before his head cracked against the concrete wall.

“You’re relatively clear.” Bucky called into the coms. “We’re gonna scope out this floor, but you should be good to come up.”

“On our way.” Nat said through the line.

Bucky looked at you and silently motioned for you to follow him through the hallway. You nodded and stepped over the body in front of you, taking up your position at his flank.

You snuck through the halls, peeking in doors and down hallways, but found no one.

“It’s a little too quiet up here.” Bucky whispered. You hummed in agreement.

“We’re in.” Cap whispered through the coms. “I’m gonna stand guard on Nat. You two find a good spot to repel.”

“On it.” You said to Cap.

Bucky spun around and you headed back in the direction of the computer database. You rounded the corner and stepped  into a large L-shaped open concept office space with floor to ceiling windows on the back wall that looked out onto the building with the helipad. You couldn’t see the quinjet, but you knew that meant that the camouflage was still in place.

You both silently crept across the open room. There was something about the room that made your stomach turn. It was too open. Too quiet. “Bucky…” you whispered.

Suddenly he snagged you around the waist and hauled you to the ground, just as a few bullets ricocheted off the wall of filing cabinets behind you. Right where your head had been.

You were flat on your back, chests melded together. He was scanning the room in the direction of where the bullets had come from. “Stay down” He whispered before rolling off of you and crawling in the direction of the perpetrator.

You picked your head up and flipped over to your stomach, army crawling in the other direction. You had to be sure it wasn’t just a diversion, that there weren’t other men with guns on the other side of the room waiting for Bucky to get distracted.

You sat with your back against the wall of filing cabinets, catching your breath and listening for any movement. Bucky was out of your line of sight, he had to be crouched between filing cabinets, stalking his prey.

You suddenly heard a very small creak, coming from somewhere between the desks behind this wall of cabinets. You took a deep breath, grabbed both glocks from your hips, and whipped around the corner.

You saw two shadows move to your left and you let a smattering of bullets fly in that direction. Two bodies went down somewhere to your left and you spun to your right just in time to duck as a fist swung for your jaw. You bull rushed the guy, wrapping your arms around his waist and slamming your body weight into his gut, tackling him to the ground. Behind you, you could hear shots being fired across the room.

You sat up, straddling him, and with your gun still in your fist, punched him once square in the nose. He spat blood up into your face and choked out “Bitch.” You just smirked and slammed your fist against his skull again, this time knocking him out cold.

“Asshole.” You said down to his unconscious form. You hopped up, both glocks held out in front of you, but you had managed to down every agent on your side of the room. You spun, heading back in the direction that you heard Bucky’s voice alongside an unfamiliar one.

“Put your gun down. Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” The unfamiliar voice crooned.

“My pleasure.” That was Bucky. You heard the thud of what you assumed was his gun being dropped on the floor.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You began weaving through desks toward where you heard the voices, coming from around the corner of the large office space. You could hear grunts and the sounds of fists meeting flesh. When you rounded the corner you saw the unknown man had Bucky in a headlock, cutting off Bucky’s oxygen.

“Fuck me.” You groaned. Both of their heads whipped up to look at you at the same time. Bucky was pretty red in the face.

Without hesitating you lifted your glock and put a hole in the strange man's forehead. It was a pretty close shot, but you were a good aim and you weren’t overly concerned about hitting Buck in the process.

The man dropped to the floor and Bucky fell to his hands and knees, sucking in deep breaths. You stomped over to him, stopping a few inches from where he crouched, and put your hands on your hips to stare down at him.

“Thanks sweet-” Bucky had started to choke out.

“What the actual fuck was that James Buchanan Barnes.” You spit down at him. You were boiling with anger. How dare he? How dare he fucking try to have some macho fight and nearly get himself killed. You almost wanted to kill him yourself, just to prove a fucking point. You were seething.

He just coughed out a laugh and looked up at you with a big grin on his face. “You’re kinda cute when you’re angry.”

You spun on your heel and walked toward the wall of windows behind him. “And you’re kind of an idiot when you’re high on adrenaline James.”

He chuckled again, hauling himself to his feet. He snagged his gun and strapped it over his shoulder. He walked up next to you and punched his metal arm through the drywall of the wall next to the windows. You flinched and looked at him.

What the hell?

“Gotta find a beam to strap ourselves to, Doll.” He smirked at you. He ripped a piece of drywall out with his fist, revealing a big metal I-beam. “We’re set in the office space at the end of the hall whenever you two get your shit together.” He panted into the com.

Nat’s amused voice answered “We’re on our way, but it sounds like you’re the one who needs to get your shit together Barnes.”

You punched Bucky in the shoulder. “Don’t ever do that again you idiot.”

“I knew you’d get him.” Bucky responded, pulling the repelling cable out of the bag on his back and wrapping an end around the I-beam, securing it together.

“That was a pretty close shot Buck.”

“Like I said” he panted, as he clipped a hook to the cable, and then to the harness around his waist. “I knew you’d get him.” He turned to you with a big stupid grin on his face. “You know…” He started, stepping into you “I normally hate when people use my full name, but when it’s coming from your lips I kinda love it.” You were nearly chest to chest now. He flicked your nose.

“Fuck you, James.” You spit. He just chuckled and bit his lower lip. He extended the hook from the middle of his torso to clip into the harness in the middle of yours. There was now only about an inch of space between the two of you. You were sharing every breath.    

Behind you, you could hear footsteps as Nat and Steve came running into the room. They made a beeline for your position, Steve ripped their cable from his backpack and began securing it around the I-beam and strapping himself to Nat.

Bucky started to walk backwards toward the giant window behind him. Nat fired her glock a few times at the glass above your heads, causing the glass to shatter and fall away leaving a big opening for you to repel out of. You closed your eyes as glass fell around you.

Bucky wrapped his right arm around your waist and you felt his metal arm pull slightly on the cable, checking for tension. You opened your eyes and found his blue eyes piercing into yours.

“Ready sweetheart?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “What have I been saying all day James? I’m alw--”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence because Bucky stepped backward off the edge of the building without taking his eyes off yours.

~0~

You free fell for a few heart beats before Bucky pushed his feet against the wall to slow your descent. As you repelled, you could hear the soft whistling of Clint’s arrows through the air and the shattering of windows around you as he picked off anyone who tried to stop your momentum.

When you reached the level of the building you were supposed to drop onto Bucky tightened his grip around the cable, slowing your momentum. You flinched a bit at the sound of metal scraping metal as the cable slid along his palm.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” You asked.

He shrugged. “A little, I can only kinda feel it. It definitely doesn’t hurt as bad as I’m sure Cap’s hand does right now, even with a kevlar glove.”

So that’s why they had wanted you to repel in pairs. So you and Nat wouldn’t have to get cable burns on your hands. Those two ancient men. Couldn’t get over their chivalry from the 40’s. You rolled your eyes.

“Sam, a little boost please.” Bucky called into the coms.

“Oh c’mon super soldier.” Sam crooned back. “Can’t swing over yourself? You’re looking pretty bad in front of the ladies.”

You giggled. “If you think this is a bad look, you should have seen the dumbass in a head lock up there on the top floor.” Bucky glared at you.

Sam just laughed. “I want to be clear, I’m only coming to help you because you’re strapped to that gorgeous woman with a wicked mouth. Otherwise you’d be on your own Tin Man.”

Sam swung around the building and snagged Bucky by the backpack, flapping his wings and yanking you both backwards so you were hovering over the edge of the building. Bucky quickly unhooked your waists from the cable. When Sam felt your weight drop, he let go of Bucky’s bag and flew back over to bring Nat and Steve over the edge as well.

You dropped straight down to the roof of the building. Bucky took the brunt of the impact, rolling when his back hit the concrete. You laid on your sides on the roof, panting together for a moment before he reached between you and unclasped the hook that connected you. You rolled over to your back, still catching your breath from the impact of hitting the roof.

Bucky turned his head to look at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You panted. Chest heaving up and down as you sucked in oxygen. “I feel fucking incredible.” You turned your head to look at him. He smiled at you.

“You look fucking incredible.” He said. Like it just slipped out before he could stop it. You blushed, your whole body going warm and gooey.

Before either of you could say anything else, you heard two matching grunts as Nat and Steve hit the roof and the mechanical sounds of Sam landing a little ways away. You both rolled to stand up.

Clint scaled down the side of a large water tank structure and started walking toward the jet. “Took you long enough.” He called.

“I blame this one on Barnes.” Nat called. “He was trying a little too hard to show off.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah Buck, it sounds like you got your ass handed to you up there. Little distracted buddy?”

Bucky muttered “Fuck you” under his breath as you all climbed back on the ship. You spun around to walk backward up the ramp so you could cock an eyebrow at Bucky, giving him a little smirk.

He just dropped his head to look at his feet as he stomped up the ramp. “Keep walkin, dollface.”

You cackled, and spun around to walk the rest of the way up the ramp. Dropping into a seat and strapping yourself in for the long flight home.

[rue-king]

Family Found, Family Taken

(AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32892439)

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: Gavin jumps right into the case that drives his brain in circles. He ignores and pushes RK900 to the side, determined to pretend he doesn't exist, but RK900 has had enough and makes a move.

Warnings: descriptions of a crime scene, cursing, kidnapping

Chapter Two:

“For someone whose handwriting is so messy you are quite organized” RK900 starts coming out of his interface trying to make conversation.

Reed rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore his attempt. Of course I’m organized, I am a fuckin good detective.

“You know partners need to actually work together” He continues on.

“You know I don’t actually give a fuck right” Reed snaps back lazily.

“Captain Fowler instructed that you cooperate”

“No he told me to accept it, not that I have to hold your fuckin hand”

“Aw you guys talking about holding hands already” Tina Chen jibes as she walks up from the direction of the break room.

“Real cute Chen”

“Haha, oh come on Gav. Anyway, move I wanna meet my new best friend. Hi I’m Tina Chen! Nice to meet you!” She says enthusiastically, putting her hand out for RK to shake.

“Hello, I am RK900.” He says, not accepting the handshake. It doesn’t seem like his ignorance is done in disdain but rather not really feeling quite comfortable enough to do that. Awkward.

Reed laughs quietly under his breath, Tina shoots him a dirty look taking back her hand.

“So new guy, you just go by RK900?”

“That is correct, I have no formal name given to me by cyberlife”

Stiff. Is he even deviant?

“Oh okay! Well it was nice seeing you!” She turns to the side to be dramatic “don't worry about this kid he’s like that to everyone.”

“I am not sure that’s a good thing” He says in a flat tone.

Gavins jaw drops a fraction, “alright, alright get out of here Chen.”

She blows a kiss and walks away with flourish. There is a moment of silence and Gavin starts to go back to work.

“There are multiple cases that are assigned to you and are marked as open.”

Gavin nods his head sarcastically, waiting for the RK unit to get to the point.

“Was that it?” Gavin asks coldly. “4 out of 5 of those cases are already closed, but our computers were down last week so paperwork is slow. I am currently assigned the string of double homicide cases.”

“We” RK corrects.

“The fuck did you say to me?”

“We- you mean, we are assigned to”

“Hah, you fuckin wish. I am assigned to the case, you are here to make the station look pretty.” Gavin bites back.

“Really? Well it seems to me that you are struggling with this case. Perhaps you need my assistance, Detective”

“I don’t need to ask you for shit”

“Well-”

“No fuck this, I’m leaving.” Gavin grabs his jacket, his luke-warm coffee and storms off.

Gavin hops in his car and starts it quickly, taking a deep breath, he pulls out of his spot and toward the latest crime scene.

As he drove he thought about the case's details. His knuckles curl around the steering wheel, stinging as he reopens the slight scabs and cuts that linger there.

Husband and wife, Christina and Mike, found dead in their home at 11:30 AM on September 21st 2039.

They are suspected to have died about 10 to 11 hours prior to their bodies being discovered.

Christina is suspected to have been killed first by strangulation and then Mike by blunt force trauma to the head. (Officers on scene noted that it may have been the corner of the coffee table).

Murder - suicide?

…...No, that's not probable men statistically are more likely to go with a quicker method.

…...Also, Christina showed no signs of defensive wounds and Mike would have shown some sign that she fought back. Regardless of relationship, when your life's on the line people normally try.

….the murderer is significantly stronger than both?

… enough for the main threat to be taken out last?

…..was the female victim used as leverage ?

There was no suspicious activity or persons around the scene reported by neighbors.

The two have a history of loud fighting, but have recently been reported as “doing well.”

The bodies were discovered by Mike’s sister, Cathy, who was supposed to come over for breakfast on the 21st.

Gavin growls under his breath and frustration creeps back up his spine. This case is relatively new but the bodies have already been moved to the morgue for a more conclusive autopsy. The CSI guys on site are shit and nothing they do is quite up to Reed’s standards, so he normally tries to get a look at the crime scene himself.

“Those fukin CSI guys and no name beat cops have probably contaminated my crime scene” Reed grumbles as pulls into the neighborhood.

The crime scene is still pretty fresh as it's a day old. Cops control the area as the press covers the story.

Reed grabs his ancient dark brown leather jacket and slings it over his worn body. He likes autumn, but he's much too grumpy right now to acknowledge it.

He’s too angry and bitter to look at the warm colored leaves that saturate his peripherals and breathe in the crisp air. He would enjoy it too, what a bummer.

Guarding the main entrance to the home is some random beat cop that Gavin has seen around the office. He passes him quickly and brushes off the press’ questions with a stern, cold shoulder.

As he enters the house the first thing he notices is the cold draft of air. The house itself is decorated in a very homey manner. With each piece of furniture and decoration being slightly mismatched, everything is brought together in a sense of warm belonging.

The cold draft makes it feel like he’s gazing into the past. Gross.

He walks further into the house, breaching the archway that separates the foyer and the living room. There he sees the blood. It spatters across the floor, centering around what would have been the back of Mike’s head. It leaks out toward the rug and stains that homey blue color into an ugly dark red.

Gavin takes a deep breath, ready to find whatever the reports left out.

He looks up and calls over to the nearest officer, “are you the only one in here?”

“No, it's me and my partner, who's out back.”

“Oh, well get out I don’t need you guys walking all over my evidence” Gavin states bluntly.

The officer is taken back. He recognises Gavin, the department asshole. He scoffs a bit and walks off to get his partner and leave anyway. Fighting with the DPD’s detectives is a losing game, everyone knows that.

It's as if a switch goes off in Gavin’s brain. He begins to analyze his crime scene.

Blood splatter on the wall and furniture suggests that Mike went down facing the inside of the house.

….he was pushed. There is no way to throw yourself backward with enough force. Murder-suicide.

....there had to been enough force for him to go down fast enough at that exact trajectory to cause a deadly blow

...Mike has a violent(-ish) history, he would have fought back.

….no defensive wounds? (Note: check autopsy reports, maybe go down to morgue?)

At this point, Christina is already dead by strangulation. Her body was found facing away from the front of the house slumped toward the coffee table.

….looking in. What were they looking at? She is used as leverage and her husband is next, why does she die looking away from him? It takes about 4 minutes for a person to die of strangulation (unless the assailant was exceptionally strong).

…. If it took so long, why did Mike not try to fight as his wife choked?

...Something is not adding up. There's a missing piece somewhere.

Reed walks around the living room languidly. He wanders over to the innermost corner of the room, from this position he can see both “bodies” perfectly, along with a view of the front window.

The two victims are facing this corner, this is where the murderer stood. That's where they were when they strangulated Christina and where they pushed Mike. Gavin hums to himself, his brain works in quick and efficient cogs. Moving from thought to thought and connecting each tidbit with a string of concentration.

Mike’s wound should have taken another 5 minutes to become critical enough for him to bleed to death. But he is still looking right here. At this corner.

...what is he looking at? What am I missing?

Reed spins around wildly, looking at the piece of the room behind him. All that lies behind him is a single arm chair and a small circular picture frame that hangs above it. This corner of the room takes up no space and is a V-shape that connects the living room entrance to the kitchen entryway.

He stares hard at the little chair. Little chair.

A door opens in his head, but he can’t quite pin it down.

A sparkle catches his eye. He bends down to get a closer look, reaching his hand under the little chair. He pulls out a dusty untied bow with a few colorful sequences hanging off.

Little chair. Bowtie.

...Child. They are staring at a child.

He breathes out a hard puff of air. He hates cases with children.

They aren’t reported to have any kids.

He walks into the kitchen with a little more energy. He spots the tall white fridge that's adorned with colorful magnets. Magnets at child height with nothing attached to them and one higher up holding an empty, unmarked envelope.

That's so fake. Rigged. Staged.

He pulls open random drawers in search of the junk drawer. He knows there is always at least one in every household.

When he finally finds it he pulls out a slightly bent piece of printer paper. It's a drawing, a child’s drawing. A tall figure drawn in light blue holds the hand of a smaller green figure in a dress who is linked to a taller purple dress clad figure.

A little cloud to the left and a big tree to the right. It’s their family.

They were hiding evidence of a child, their child. Why? They were killed unexpectedly, it wasn’t to hide from the murderer. Who then?

…”Mike’s sister, Cathy, who was supposed to come over for breakfast on the 21st.”

...hiding evidence of a daughter from the sister? Why?

Gavin’s head hurts, he doesn’t even notice he's clenching his jaw in anger. Cases with kids make him angry. He is on a roll now, he can’t stop his momentum.

He pries open the fridge.

Mostly empty. One carton of eggs, one jug of milk, and various vegetables in the drawer. Don’t kids have like snacks or something. This is the fridge of a bachelor.

He moves on, going upstairs. He figures that they can try to hide little photos, but a kid in a house of this size would have her own room.

The parents room check out, nothing special. It’s just as homey as the rest, left as if they were just out running errands.

He moves on to the door at the end of the hallway to the left, facing the street. Jack pot, it's the kids room. Though at first glance it looks like a normal neutral guest bedroom.

He takes a peak under the bed, small toys like dolls and stuffed animals are tucked in the farthest corner. The sheets are new and the bed is freshly made. (As fresh as a day old can be anyway). He walks over to the window and peaks out.

He can make out the big tree that blocks some of the view. From the drawing.

Reed can also make out the image of his freshly dubbed partner stepping out of an automated taxi. RK900’s stark white uniform shining under the overcast weather outside.

Fuckin perfect. Gavin huffs, even more determined to finish quickly. He doesn’t need some pristine plastic to walk in and ruin all his work. He can do it on his own. He doesn’t need help.

He goes to the closet and opens it up. Hangers are crooked and a few pieces of child’s clothing are sprawled on the floor.

Taken in a hurry. Fuck.

That solidifies it. Cristina and Mike had a child, or at least one living with them at the time of the murder. There is no other victim, so it is safe to assume that this double homicide has upgraded into a kidnapping.

“Fuck. FUCK”

Gavin pulls out his phone and dials Captain Fowler's number as he leaves to meet with the officers outside.

As the phone hits the second ring he is met with the face of his brand new partner.

“I will be assisting you on this case De-”

“Shut the fuck up tin can. Get out of the way” Reed rushes out. RK resists getting out of his way, determined to spit his own insults at the rude detective.

The captain doesn’t pick up. Reed moves past RK anyway.

Gavin reaches the officers outside. “Hey you, come here” he calls over the officer he sassed earlier in the house. “How many officers are on scene, right now?”

“Four. My partner and I, and Ortis and his partner as well.”

“Okay, listen up. I need you to stay here and keep the press under control and in the area, get the other three to comb through the neighborhood and alert me if they find anything. Our murderer may have kidnapped a little girl and we don’t have any other information.” Gavin commands in a low tone.

The officer's eyes widened, opening his mouth to say something.

“No, shut up. We can’t let the press know, so you stay here, stay quiet and make sure your buddies do their job. Got it?” He nods, and Reed shoos him off.

“How did you come to that conclusion, Detective?”

RK900, right, perfect.

“None of your business, RK900” he overprounances the unit’s name to be condescending, but his partner stares at him with cold, uncaring eyes. So naturally Reed continues on.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a competent detective or something? Figure it out yourself.”

“Oh I did, I just wanted to know how you got to that conclusion.”

Flames heat up Reed’s body. He is quick to anger.

“You piece of shi-”

“Oh and while you were off being an ass I already contacted Fowler about the situation and the search for the young girl continues on at the office.”

Gavin clenches his jaw again, his tongue flicking over his teeth in quiet rage. RK900 stands there with an unfeeling look on his face, peering down at Gavin.

Reed would swear that there is a hint of a smirk teetering at the corner of that bastard's mouth. The shadow RK’s high brow creates on his eyes makes the distance between them seem daunting, widening the gap between them. Further smushing Gavin’s fragile ego into the bits and pieces between the dirt.

Dramatic, he knows.

Gavin from a couple months back would have ripped forward and swung on RK900, but this Gavin is tired. Resigned from the fight against his inferiority. He takes a breath, though it does nothing to relieve him of his anger, and walks off with nothing but a dirty look.

He has to solve this case, he has to. It is his last chance.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]

[Second oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!! 

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish. 

* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                           [~*~]

What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love?  - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

  - What the fu-

 Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.

 Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.

One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:

 “You dye, you buy.”

 Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.

 He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?

 Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?

 But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.

 But…

 Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?

 Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-

 A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.

 Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.

 It was okay.

 They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.

 It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.

 Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.

 Okay. Everything was okay.

 [~*~]

 Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.

 The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.

 It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.

  CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!  

 [~*~]

 The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.

 Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.

 And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?

 “Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.

  [~*~]

 Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.

 A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.

 [~*~]

 Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.

 He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.

  It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.

 He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-

 Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?

 ‘The First Step’.

 Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.

 “Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.

 “That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”

 He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.

 “Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”

 “Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”

 “I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.

 “How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.

 Silence followed his words.

 “Pat?”

 “What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”

 “Pat, don’t you fucking da-”

 “Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”

 Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”

  “I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.

 “You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.

 “We’re on episode 19.”

  [~*~]  

Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.

 A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.

 Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?

 Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…

 Or…

 Navy blue.

 Oh.

 He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.

 Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.

 This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.

 No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.

 Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…

 …If he was enough.

There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.

 Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?

 Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.

 “It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”

 A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.

 “Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!

 “Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”

 “I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”

 “He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.

 “A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.

 “Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”

 “You should go sleep, then.”

 The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”

 Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.

 “I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.

 Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.

 Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits?  Does he even remember about him?

 Highly improbable.

 “You can call me Lo.”

 Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.

 “Lo? Like Lowrance?”

 “Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”

 Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.

 …

 ‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’

 ‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’

 ‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’

 His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’

 ‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’

 ‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’

 Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’

 ‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’

 …

 “Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”

 Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.

 “Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.

 “Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-

 “Hey, Lo? Are you there?”

 “Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”

 “Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”

 Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.

 “Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”

  “Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.

 Then he understood.

  His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.

 “Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.

 “Hello, Prince.”

 Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.

 “I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”

 “I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”

 “Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”

 Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”

 “Make me, I dare you.”

 “Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.

 “Eleven years.”

 “We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”

 “Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.

 “Yeah, I agree.”

 Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.

[huarens]

everything | njm

pairing : jaemin x reader

genre : soulmates? idk hard to explain

word count : 3k

summary : you were jaemin’s everything, at least, everything but his.

notes : i’m tired of struggling to write this so i’m releasing it as is pls take this away from me it’s been taunting me in my drafts for almost a year

if someone were to ask jaemin what his favorite color was, he would, without doubt, reply with yellow.

 'why?' they'd ask him, well why not?

all colors were stunning to jaemin, and to have a world filled with so many was astounding, he found yellow to be the prettiest of them all. it just felt, warm. like sitting by the fireplace on a cold rainy day, or sitting under the sun with a book in hand, just, home. and when he went to the park with his parents or bike-riding with friends, even when he was playing with his toys next to the window, he was always on the lookout for something yellow. he's also tried staring into the sun a couple of times to try and make out the yellow glare it radiated. but then his parents would scold him and tell him he would never see anything again if he kept looking. 

and the stars.

his parents would take him out to the backyard, along with his dad's telescope, and point out all the constellations to him. he could care less about the shapes, meanings, and history. it was the faint yellow shine and twinkle they gave off that he was infatuated with.

so to say he was disappointed when his parents told him he'd be losing color in both eyes by the time he reached seven was an understatement.

he had a fit, a tantrum so loud that the whole neighborhood could hear. his screams, his desperate sobs for his parents to tell him that they were lying, that they were joking, all were heard. he only stopped once his parents told him that he would see color again when he met his soulmate.

jaemin asked them through small hiccups what they meant. someone you're destined to be with, they had said. someone who'll make you feel like you're flying, someone who'll love you in a way no one, not even his parents, could. and then they told him their love story, it was riveting. the obstacles and trouble they went through to be together, from being game buddies, both on different sides of the country, to present (jaemin blocked out the part where they decided to explain in explicit detail to how jaemin came to be). and it was then at the age of six, jaemin was set on the idea of finding his soulmate. they're out there somewhere, he thought, he just has to find them.

jaemin met you in second grade. you kept hugging him throughout the day, the teacher scolding you multiple times for touching him without permission. he didn't mind it though. from there, a friendship blossomed. play dates were scheduled every other day, either your house or his. his parents practically called you their own, they never saw a day where they came home and you weren't there to greet them. your parents also loved jaemin, saying they'd wish you'd end up with him so they'd keep him forever. a happy childhood you and jaemin had, although it was just a countdown to the inevitable.

before jaemin knew it, his seventh birthday came. he watched as the clock slowly struck down to 12. he spent the first hour of his birthday crying, tears flowing like waterfalls as he blew out the candles, his parents comforting him as he waited for the clock to strike one.

usually, a child would lose all color by the end of the first hour of their birthday, yet jaemin's fate never came. three hours had passed, cake all eaten, cartoons playing on the tv as his parents passed out on the couch next to each other.

jaemin sat in the kitchen, poking at the untouched fruit tray his parents bought earlier. the strawberries looked as red as ever, he still could see color.

how?

jaemin didn't know when he moved to his room, but jaemin woke up buried in his bed, covers pulled all the way up to his chin. he rubbed his eyes, barely functioning on the three hours of sleep he got.

once he got downstairs, his parents were waiting at the kitchen table, both in deep conversation as he walked by to get a glass of water.

he was watching TV when his dad came and sat next to him, handing jaemin his little paw patrol sippy cup then putting an arm around his shoulder.

"what color is that guys pants?" his dad had asked, pointing on the screen as a character popped up out of a hole.

"green. it looks stupid." jaemin replies, leaning into his dad as the cartoon continued on.

"jaemin.. how are you feeling?"

"i feel good, why?" jaemin looks up, his mother slowly making her way towards the couch to sit.

"it seems you must've already met your soulmate jaems, either that or we got your birthday mixed up. we're hoping it's the former though." his mother laughed airily, her smile not quite making it to her eyes.

jaemin is confused, who could it be? no one comes to mind as jaemin thinks about who he could possibly be destined with. as far as he knew, all of his current friends could no longer see color. 

except for you.

you were the only one out of all the kids he knew that could still see color and your seventh birthday had passed nearly three months ago. in fact, just two days ago you had told him the brown in his right eye was shinier than the brown in his other eye (he still thinks it was because his eye was watering after you punched him straight in the gut during your game of tag.) 

there's no doubt about it, it had to be you.

the next day at school, all of his friends crowd him, too many questions as to why he still knew what color shirt he had on, or if he could tell them what color everyone’s behavior card was. jaemin pushes them aside, spotting you on the other side of the room playing near the toybox. 

"y/n, y/n, y/n! we're soulmates y/n!" jaemin gets ahold of your shoulders and plops himself right in front of you, knocking over your tower of markers. 

you stare at him for a second, your small hands balling into fists before you scream,

"stop jaemin! don't say that, you'll curse me!" you clapped both hands over your ears, scrambling to get up and run as far as you could from jaemin.

he begins to chase you around the classroom, making kissy faces and extending his arms out as far as he could to get ahold of you.

"no! i don't want it to be you! you have cooties, and i hate cooties!"

jaemin slows to a stop.

"you have a big head too! if i have to be your soulmate, i'd... i'd run away to jeju island so you never marry me! i don't ever want to be your friend ever again! never!"

"you'll love me, you'll understand it in your big pretty head when we're bigger! i'll be your boyfriend" jaemin yells after you.

and that's the last time you ever spoke to jaemin for a while.

as time grew, so did the both of you.

jaemin is now 17 and entering his senior year. he has made it through middle school and lost a few friends. some of them finding their soulmate and leaving him for them. but he's also made some new friends, people who have yet to meet their lover.

he still sees you around the school, and if he’s lucky, in his classes some days.

today was one of those days.

you were handing out flyers advertising the after-school photography club, sliding one on jaemin’s desk while he was turned away talking to one of his friends.

you were gone before jaemin had a chance to ask you about it though, but it was alright. 

he’d see you after school for the club.

photography club was lamer than he expected it to be. 

the first day in and the teacher had already assigned projects, he didn’t even know projects existed in clubs. 

“let’s start this year off with a picture portfolio yeah?” the teacher had said, “something meaningful, significant. something we can cherish for a while.”

partner projects, jaemin recalls, take photos of something that means a lot. 

and he had been partnered with you.

jaemin doesn’t really know how to feel standing next to you.

everyone was outside taking pictures with their partners, taking pictures of random objects around them. 

“jaemin! What do you think about this picture?” you appear by his side, handing him a camera.

“isn’t it a nice grey?”

jaemin is puzzled, “it looks red to me?”

“it’s red..? I couldn’t really tell…” you laugh, and jaemin realizes how awkward he made the situation.

“you… you can’t see color?”

“yeah, i faded back in seventh grade. you know, when we weren’t talking.” you smiled, although it didn’t seem sincere.

“oh.”

silence takes over for a while, and jaemin’s about to try and make an excuse to leave before he hears someone call out his name. 

“jaemin! we finally found you.”

his group of friends come over, not yet realizing you were standing there. The five of them instead trying to find their remaining friend.”

“wheres renjun?” asked jeno, he pulled out his phone to call. 

“oh he’s coming, he lost his phone” jisung answers, “well he thinks he lost his phone, i have it in my pocket.” smiling, he waves around the said phone in his hand. 

“jisung, you’re the biggest asshole alive!”

renjun catches up with the rest of them, looking around until he had finally locked eyes with y/n.

there was a moment of silence, most of them asking renjun why he had gotten so quiet all of the sudden.

renjun runs up to you, taking your hand in his, pulling you in for a hug. 

“it’s you.”

it took a while for jaemin to realize that it wasn’t him.

he wasn’t the one. 

no, it was renjun.

renjun was your soulmate.

you weren't his.

everyday was a chore, you had now joined his group of friends, and there was never a moment where and renjun weren’t all on each other.

it was the same routine, wake up, go to school, watch you and renjun make out for 8 hours, then back home.

no day where it didn’t hurt less than the last. 

but jaemin’s used to it at this point. 

the day jaemin had found out you and renjun were soulmates, he ran home, making the excuse that he had chores he forgot he had to get done.

as soon as he got through his front door, he kicked off his shoes, making a beeline to his room.

he tore his folder of photos he had developed in the school's darkroom that day out of his backpack, along with the essay he had started on.

and he began to rip them, the heartache in his chest mixed with his rage threatening to tear himself apart. 

after he had finished with his tantrum, he cursed fate once more, he cursed the broken system, his parents for birthing him in the first place, renjun, everything he could place the blame on.

everything but you.

because it wasn’t your fault,

it’ll never be your fault.

just jaemin’s for ever loving you in such a way.

it was new years, the clock only five minutes until midnight, 

everyone was busy finding someone to kiss, everyone but jaemin.

he had gotten tired of the god-awful house music blaring through the speakers and just wanted to find a bathroom.

jaemin walked up the stairs, trying to remember where jeno had told him the bathroom was before he saw a glimpse of you pulling renjun into the same bathroom he was headed for. 

as the door closes, jaemin can’t help but tear up again.

and spends the start of his year crying on a stairwell. 

jaemin stumbles into his apartment,struggling to find the light switch next to the door as he takes off his shoes.

another tiring day at his job. he had messed up so many times, his manager took it out on his paycheck. 

a pile of mail was waiting for him on the kitchen counter, his roommate had probably brought it in without feeling the need to sort it.

as he sifts through the stack, a golden envelope embellished with a red wax seal caught his eye. his name and address in silver sharpie on the front. 

he wishes he hadn’t opened it, however, for as soon as he cuts it open, a picture of you and renjun falls out.

an invitation to your wedding. 

he can’t help but stare at you on the front of the card, smiling at renjun. 

jaemin leaves it on the counter, ignoring the rest of the mail and going straight to his room.

and he cries himself to sleep for the first time in a while

 jaemin could barely hold it together as he waits, sweat forming at the back of his neck as he stands nervously. he was on the verge of losing it right then and there, his hands were shaking as if he had just come in from the cold. as if it couldn't get any worse, the crowd silences, the lights dim slightly as soon as the organ starts playing.

the doors opened, revealing you.

from your hair, your wedding dress to even the heels you wore on your feet, jaemin couldn't help but fall in love with you all over again.

you were beautiful. you were ethereal. you were everything.

he watched as you walked down the aisle, you were decked in yellow, the color radiating and bouncing off every surface in the room with each step you took. It was almost as if you were the sun, the center of the universe, everyone else just meaningless little stars and futile planets underneath you. 

you stepped up onto the altar, hand in hand with renjun, a broad smile fitted on your face. he's sure it was brighter than the yellow marigolds you held in your hand. 

the priest began his long monologue, but jaemin tunes it out. all he saw was you. the sweat was gone, his hands no longer shaking in his pockets. 

“does anyone object to this marriage?”

’i do.’ jaemin says, wanting to run out and stand in front of you, to take your hand in his.

but, of course, jaemin doesn’t have enough courage to say it out loud.

he watches as renjun dips you down, pressing his lips against yours, sealing the deal as newlywed soulmates. the room erupted into a cheer, clapping and whistling, yet he couldn't seem to bring his hands up to clap, for he already knew what came next.

a tear found it's way down his face as the colors around him began to slowly fade. it started with his surroundings. the wedding venue, once decorated in mass amounts of gold and silver now just shimmering shades of greys and whites. He could no longer tell what color his suit was, or what shade his skin could be. your dress was no longer the mesmerizing yellow you once walked in with, the marigolds in your hands now a dull tone. 

jaemin smiles. he knows you would most definitely be blushing now, the pink tint that usually adorns your face a dove grey. he continues to smile as he watches you and renjun run down the aisle.

what he didn’t know was just how much it was going to hurt. jaemin was sure fate was taunting him at this point, laughing at him as he stood there, barely able to contain himself.

it's okay, he says. jaemin tilts his head back, clenching his eyes closed as they started to water, his chin trembling.

 you're happy. and that's all that matters to him.

he let the torrent of tears dampen the collar of his shirt, suffocating on each unsteady breath he took. jaemin rubbed at his eyes consistently, staining them red, and making his eyebags ever the more evident. 

he knows his makeup is smudged by now, pale concealer a dark contrast to his suit and red lip balm all over his sleeve.

at least, that’s what he thinks the color of his lip balm was, he can’t remember.

everyone files out of the ballroom, making their way to the front of the building to congratulate the newlyweds, leaving jaemin by himself in the now empty room.

he feels someone pat his back, it’s jisung.

“i know it hurts.”

jisung sends him a sad reassuring smile and then follows the crowd out.

the silence is even more deafening now, his own sobs making his head feel like it’ll burst at any given second. All his defenses washed away along with his salty tears.   

jaemin could barely hear the car drive off, applause and cans hitting against asphalt as party-goers get into their cars to drive to the restaurant.

he bitterly laughs to himself, it all finally setting into his skin.

he’s alone.

he’s truly alone now.

no one for him to love, and no one to love him.

jaemin finally calms down enough to step down from where he stood on the altar, only a few feet away from where you were no more than thirty minutes ago.

he could've been the one next to you

he could've been the one to slip that ring on your finger,

then take your hand, and laugh with you as you both ran out.

but it's okay he says,

it's okay.

jaemin walks out of the hall, and takes a breath of fresh air. 

it was all going to be okay.

you were his everything.

at least,

everything but his.

[harrysscheshirecat]

Met

The one where H makes a new friend, (Y/N), and they sneak away for a bathroom quickie (1.8k) (SMUT)

“Hmm?” (Y/N) leaned into Harry. Her hand found his bicep. “I wish there was somewhere quieter we could talk.” still having to shout over the party chatter. 

Harry had to chuckle at the use of ‘the line’. He was known to’ve used it on more than a few occasions, but (Y/N) beat him to it in this case. At any rate, he knew a place. There were the public bathrooms, which were sure to be packed. But Vogue had cordoned off another set a little more out of the way for staff and designers. Alessandro had pointed them out earlier in the evening. 

Harry led his new friend the same way. He only hoped his title as chairperson granted him access to the more exclusive area, not just when he was with the creative director of Gucci. He breathed a sigh of relief when the nearby security not only didn’t bother them, but adverted their eyes at the sight of the couple. Anna had them well trained. Even when (Y/N) teetered in her sky-high heels and their drunken giggles echoed through the otherwise quiet museum hall. “Sure you don’t want to take those off?” Harry teased, keeping her steady with with his hands on her hips. He was just happy for a reason to hold her, which he only stopped doing when he had the door to open for her. “M’lady.” 

“I’ll leave them on, thanks.” Her eyes narrowed at him but her smile told him she wasn’t too mad. “Sure you don’t want to take yours off?” she quipped without missing a beat, playfully kicking at his own heeled shoes on her way in. 

Harry followed close behind. He was sure to lock the door behind him before he started making his way to the handicap stall but (Y/N) grabbed his hand and pulled him to the sinks. 

“I want to watch.” was the only explanation she gave. Harry didn’t need another. Their lips met in a feverish kiss whilst they stumbled to the massive mirror that hung above the washbasins. She tasted warm and sweet, of the fruity cocktails she had earlier. It just made him want to taste the rest of her. His lips hungrily worked across her jaw, and down her neck. 

“-There. Right there.” she breathed when his lips dragged over the base of her neck. She swept her hair to one side and tilted her head to grant him more access to the sensitive patch of skin. Harry happily indulged. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s deft hands worked between them, undoing his shirt buttons. Then the button and the zipper on his high-waisted trousers. She sure didn’t lack any confidence, which had always been a turn-on for Harry but this was all happening so quickly. He needed to take some control back. 

“I thought you said you wanted to watch.” Harry panted, twirling the girl around so they both faced the mirror. She looked stunning under the lights. Her dress glittered and accentuated another curve to be appreciated with every move. “That is a magnificent dress.” he commented in her ear, his hand splayed across her crystal encrusted stomach.

“230,000 crystals.” she moaned out as they swayed together. Harry’s hand slid down her sides and he started bunching the fabric up her hips. “Careful. This is going on display tomorrow.” she warned with a sly smile. It only made it all the hotter. Harry separated and squatted down to gather the delicate fabric of the dress and worked it the rest of the way up her gorgeous legs. He payed extra care at her hips, the fabric becoming exceedingly tighter with her curves. As soon as the fabric was past her hips, it easily fell to rest at her waist. 

She had a cute, tight little bum he was sure she worked hard for. And when he ripped her blush colored knickers down, it revealed a glimpse of a pussy that deserved far more time dedicated to it than a bathroom quickie could possibly provide. He could take her back to his place but the 30 minute ride to his hotel seemed like a bloody eternity. Harry straightened up and reached around her front. “Ohh.” he groaned as he slipped two of his fingers against her slick folds, wet already. (Y/N)’s legs spread wider at his touch, his fingers swirling across her clit. 

“Mmm.” she voiced her pleasure, her head tilting back to rest against his shoulder whilst she watched his hand work in the mirror. “You’re good at that.” Her hips rolled forward to meet his hand, then back, her bum pushing against his happy cock. 

Fuck it, they’d get a quick shag in here, they both needed it. Then Harry could take her back to his for round 2. He’d eat her out until the sun rose. Harry guided his cock from where it stood proudly erect against his stomach to (Y/N)s pussy. He dragged the head of his cock up and down her slick folds to lube himself up. He teased her clit with it too before finally, slowly, burying himself deep inside his new friend. 

She moaned for every inch, her back arching as she fell forward to grip either side of the sink, whilst he did the same with her hips, making sure she didn’t get too far away from him. Harry liked to savor the moment, and this was a hell of a moment. Balls deep in a girl more gorgeous than the designer crystals her body was dripped in. But (Y/N) was already swirling her hips against him with what could only be described as a satisfied grin. She was getting hers, grinding herself down on him. “Mmm. I wanted to do this the moment I saw you on the carpet.” she told him.

“ ‘m I as good as you thought I’d be?” Harry wondered out loud with a smirk, ego easily taking over the conversation as (Y/N) took over his every sense. 

“Better. So much better.” she moaned. Her encouraging words coaxed a harder thrust from Harry. They both had the same goal. He concentrated on her face in the mirror as he did so, watching for a flutter of her eyes or furrow of her brow to let him know he was hitting the right spot. “Faster. Faster” she pleaded. He obliged, fingers digging deeper into (Y/N)’s beautifully fleshy hips and quickening what he already considered a decent pace. Her swirling eventually turned to a short bounce. “I’m gonna… I gonna cum for you. All over your big dick.” Jesus, the mouth on this girl made Harry’s head spin. 

“Ohh yeah.” He felt her tighten all around him as her head lulled forward. For the first time that night she had no smart remark or quip. He fucked her through her orgasm at a frantic pace, feeling his own orgasm starting to build in his lower stomach. “Come ‘ere.”  Harry pulled (Y/N) back up against his sweaty chest and wrapped a supportive arm around her to keep her ever closer. His hand ended up resting at the base of her neck. He just needed more of her skin on his. He could feel her heart thundering against her chest. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut in the new position. He didn’t like that at all, her eyes told him so much. “Open.” Harry panted with a thrust. “Open your eyes.” he gently urged. 

(Y/N) did as she was told. Her expressive eyes fluttered open for him, brow immediately furrowing, mouth popping open. He was doing that. The noise of their bodies coming together filled the bathroom. Mixed with his low determined grunts with every thrust and her eventual sweet chants of the word, “yes”, it was a melody Harry could easily get lost in. 

“‘m gonna make you cum again.” he promised. His thrusts were erratic at best, Harry loosing more control by the second. He was close, but so was she, and he was determined to fulfill his promise. His head dipped back to the spot on her neck she liked kissed so much and his fingers found her clit and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her pussy spasmed around him, begging for his cum. He couldn’t resist it if he wanted to and let the orgasm wash over him with her. 

“That was…amazing.” Harry fell back against the bathroom stall wall to catch his breath. (Y/N) was already back in front of the mirror wiping the corners of her mouth. He was almost offended. “You have an amazing recovery time.” he huffed. 

(Y/N)’s gaze met his in the mirror and her sly smile returned, “I crossfit.” 

Harry laughed but made serious note to up his cardio. And look into Crossfit whilst he was at it. “Did you want to go get dinner or something?” He dragged a hand through his hair and spotted (Y/N)’s long-forgotten knickers on the floor. He reached down to retrieve them for her without much thought.

(Y/N) busied herself with her dangle earrings. “A nice thought,” She fluffed her hair, “but I have a deadline.” There went his plans for the night.

“You’re leaving already?” He couldn’t hide his disappointment. 

“My editor is probably already waiting on me. I just needed to make an appearance in this thing.” she tugged the dress back into place. “Do you have the time?” (Y/N) turned to face him. She looked as breathtaking as ever. 

Harry pulled out his mobile to look at the clock. “Half one. Can I get your number?”

(Y/N) whirled around to face him. “Don’t worry. If we’re meant to see each other again, we will.” 

Harry nodded slowly. He wasn’t used to being rejected. And it only made him want her that much more. “You could’ve just said ‘no’.”  

(Y/N) sauntered up to him with her lips pushed out in an exaggerated pout. “Don’t pout. I’m sure you won’t be alone for long.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek that felt an awful lot like a consolation prize. “Have a good night, Harry.” (Y/N) disappeared leaving a faint waft of her perfume as his only reminder of her. He didn’t even have the chance to give her back her knickers. She left him with his trousers unzipped and the reality of the situation quickly sinking in. He was in a public bathroom alone, half dressed, with a pair of random knickers in his hand and the door now unlocked. He could hear people outside. Harry stuffed the kickers in his pocket and fumbled to zip the long zipper on his trousers.

____________________________________

This has no real beginning but it’s been in my drafts for way too long, so I’m posting it now, rough and unedited. Apologies. (Y/N)’s dress is loosely based on Rihanna’s Swarovski crystal dress. First ‘(Y/N)’ blurb, let me know if I should do more! Any feedback is always appreciated. 

[freyjawriter24]

Advent Omens: Cookies

This one might make you a little hungry - apologies in advance! Another of my responses to @drawlight‘s excellent winter prompt list - this time Day 18, which has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. Enjoy!

-----

When he’d set out on this project, he hadn’t thought it would take that long. A couple of months, a year at most. Not the best part of a decade.

Trying, adjusting, trying again. He was almost at the stage where he was ready to ask for human feedback – in total secrecy, of course, under the empty threat of eternal torture in Hell. He could trust the American girl, certainly, and probably her husband, and their kids could give their feedback too, but they were probably too young to understand the intricacies of flavour and the importance of the whole thing properly. Adam and Warlock could probably be trusted to keep it secret, but he’d have to keep them out of the way afterwards, because when secrets were involved, they both had a habit of grinning at Crowley in such a way that the angel would figure out something was up in about two seconds flat. Other than that, he supposed he could try it out with random humans who didn’t know Aziraphale and would therefore have zero chance of passing any confidential information on, but that was worse, because he’d have to explain things and then wipe their memories afterwards, and honestly it just wasn’t worth the stress.

But he hadn’t told anyone yet. It was almost maddening, that, having to keep something quiet for so long without even a hint that there was something there to hide. It had been a while since he’d had practice at that.

Today was the cut-off date. If he wasn’t happy with it by this evening, there wouldn’t be time for the human trials to take place so that it was ready in time for Christmas, and so he would have to work on it for another whole year before showing Aziraphale. He’d gotten this down to a fine science, both the project itself and the timings of it, and he was not going to risk mucking it all up by going over deadlines and changing everything at the last minute.

“Right, you,” he said threateningly to the tray in this hand, but determinedly not putting a miracle into it. “You’ve got to be perfect this time, okay? Perfect. I do not want this to last another year.”

He opened the oven door and slid the tray inside, hitting the to-the-second timer at the same instant that he shut the door. It began to count down, and he glared at it for a second to make sure it knew what would happen if it wasn’t loud enough or on time enough or did anything else wrong.

Then he glanced at the counter, at the pile of stuff sat there.

“Ugh,” the being who was once the Serpent of Eden said, and reached towards it. “Now for the apple.”

He worked for another couple of hours, mixing and dividing and baking, plating up the results in colour-coded tins and setting a miracle over each of them to keep them at the perfect temperature. The clipboard was marked off as each batch came out, and sat beside the tins, waiting to be filled out with all necessary details when the time came.

Crowley didn’t realise he was humming until the tune was broken partway through by a polite cough. The demon froze, then whirled around, uncovered yellow eyes blown wide.

Any faint hope he’d had that the now-adult Antichrist had been the one to break into his locked flat vanished as his gaze fell upon the softly-smiling face of his husband.

“Angel...” The word slipped out without intent, as it often did when Crowley was suddenly caught by how beautiful Aziraphale looked. But this time the shock was more one of fear and embarrassment than just flat-out love. Though there was definitely a healthy dose of that in there too.

Unnecessary blood thundering in his ears, he took in the scene, trying to figure out how much Aziraphale knew. The angel was stood by the kitchen table, the rainbow of labelled tins in front of him. Crowley himself was stood by an obviously-on oven, clearing up an obviously-floured counter, but there was no tray in his hands, no actual evidence tying him directly to the tins on the table. Maybe he had a chance? But then, with a sinking feeling in his chest, he realised the clipboard containing his own handwriting was held gently in the ethereal being’s hands, and Crowley knew he was done for. Aziraphale knew the whole thing.

The demon stumbled through a few nonsense sounds, and then eventually fell quiet. And then changed his mind immediately.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” he said slowly, quietly, and he was distantly shocked to hear how broken he sounded.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, dropping the clipboard on the table and crossing the room to him in a few quick, sure strides. The angel folded the demon to him in a strong hug, and Crowley hugged him back automatically, the contact no longer unusual or terrifying.

“If it helps, it was a surprise,” Aziraphale murmured, his chin tucked over his husband’s shoulder. “I didn’t even know there was anything I should be avoiding walking into. And it’s a wonderful surprise, too.”

Crowley mumbled something neither of them recognised as words into Aziraphale’s neck, and then resolved to just enjoy the moment for a bit. There was a time when we couldn’t do this. Something so wonderfully simple as this. He also resolved not to cry, and only failed a little.

“Are you okay, my dear?” Aziraphale asked when they finally drew apart. The angel was frowning at him in a concerned sort of way, and Crowley vanished any hint of tears with a click of his fingers, at the same time focusing on returning his irises to normal, human-like size.

“Yeah, sure, ’m fine, angel.”

“I really am sorry that I walked in on your surprise.”

“Nah, ’s not that. Well, maybe it’s a little bit that. But, I mean...” Crowley cast about for the words and ended up groaning at his own inarticulacy. “I just... It all got a bit much. That we can just do that now. Hug. In the middle of the kitchen. In broad daylight.”

Aziraphale’s face crumpled into a strange mixture of love and sadness and deep, deep understanding. “I know, my darling. I know.”

At that moment the timer went off. Crowley wavered for a second between the oven and the angel, then figured why not both and clicked his fingers as he stepped back towards Aziraphale and wrapped his serpentine arms around him. The final batch of cookies made it to the cooling rack right on schedule, and the two celestial beings enjoyed another moment that was all their own, still a novelty after only a decade being allowed that.

At some point, when they realised that the night had drawn in on the Mayfair flat, they broke apart again, limbs relaxing into this strange world where they could live together, be married to each other, and not have to deal with either of their respective Head Offices trying to murder them. They decided not to make the long journey back to the cottage tonight, and instead Aziraphale retrieved a collection of tartan blankets from a cupboard and arranged them around himself on the sofa.

Crowley brought a plate over with one of each cookie batch on it, and when the angel took it from him, he slipped under the blankets too and snuggled into Aziraphale’s soft embrace.

“They’re still just prototypes,” the demon warned. “I haven’t tested them on anyone else yet, so they might not be quite there yet...”

Aziraphale gave him a look, and Crowley shut up, nodding in acceptance.

“Which should I try first?”

The demon considered, then pointed, describing each by their major flavours.

“Gingerbread, white chocolate and raspberry, milk chocolate and orange, lemon with meringue chunks, then apple and cinnamon.” He considered this list, then nodded. “Yeah, that’ll work. Not the order I made them in, but they should all be the right temperature for what their flavours are.”

Aziraphale daintily picked up the first biscuit on the list, a simple round of gingerbread with a star pressed into it. “Very festive,” he commented, smiling prettily.

“Yeah,” Crowley mumbled. “I was going to add some bronze edible glitter or something, but that kind of messed up the rustic aesthetic a little...” He trailed off, realising how much he was giving away, and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck. “Urmph, just try it.”

The angel’s soft fingers found Crowley’s among the blankets, and squeezed. The demon clung on in return, and didn’t move until Aziraphale had tried every flavour of cookie he’d painstakingly put together from scratch through a decade of testing and tasting and so much baking, baking, baking.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said finally, and the demon dared raise his head. The pale blue eyes were full of emotion, and for a second Crowley wondered (again) what would happen to him if he discorporated now from pure love.

“My dearest, most wonderful darling,” Aziraphale began, and there was a crack in there somewhere that made Crowley grip the angel even tighter to him. “I love you more than anything in the entirety of creation.”

“They that good?” Crowley asked, and pretended the odd note of his voice was a laugh.

“Oh, they are,” Aziraphale said, nodding and pulling Crowley impossibly closer to him. “But that’s not the point. You’ve...” The angel cut himself off, took a deep breath, and covered the break by pressing a kiss to Crowley’s forehead.

He drew back slightly and continued, gazing earnestly into the demon’s eyes as he did so. “You’ve put so much time and effort into this, into making these perfect, and that’s all for me, and I just...”

It wasn’t often that either of them cried, but they both forgave themselves for it on this occasion. The tears were heavy with millennia of affection, but they were warm with it, too, and the pile of blankets became a haven of strong arms cuddling close and gentle fingers brushing cheeks and soft lips offering kisses and endless words of love, and that was honestly all they needed.

The tins of cookies sat, perfectly warmed, on the kitchen counter for the rest of the night. They were retrieved in the morning, and offered out to anyone who ventured into the bookshop (as long as they promised not to buy anything), all of whom gave rave reviews of every single flavour.

Aziraphale encouraged Crowley to bake a batch of each to bring to Tadfield for the winter celebrations that year, and every one of the humans who tried them agreed with the angel’s assessment that they were the most delicious cookies they’d ever had. Thereafter, of course, Crowley’s baking was requested at every major event, but he didn’t really mind. It made his angel happy, and that was all he’d ever really wanted.

[pucks-no-fucks]

Long Distance: Kaapo Kakko X Reader (part 3)

*gif isn’t mine, I am sure I found it on here, I have scoured everywhere, can’t find the owner, if you made it tell me so I can give credit where it’s due*

Authors Note: OOP- I think I know where I’m bringing this now (I have 2 ideas) but you guys will hate me for it for a bit if I go with one of them

Summary: Kaapo and the reader are in Vancouver for the draft.

Warnings: *Possibly a curse or two I can’t remember. Also there’s a passive comment in here, I ain’t got anything against New Jersy btw.

Requested: Yes | No

Word Count: 1,060

It took a lot to convince your mom to bring you to Vancouver. She was pissed about what happened in Slovakia. She was really mad. But you were able to do it. The plane ride over you were giddy. You were excited. You were staying in Vancouver for a week. Plenty of time.

When the plane landed you practically bounced off. Your mom starting becoming suspicious about why you wanted to come to Vancouver. You decided to send Kaapo a text to let him know you were here.

You: Hey I’m here, what are you up too?

Immediately you got a text back.

Kaapo: press

You: oh fun

Read

This was going to be a busy time and it wasn’t necessarily his fault. Besides, he just told you he was working with press. You were too happy for him to possibly be upset about it.

The hotel you and your mom were staying at was nice. Fancy. Gorgeous. Had a nice restaurant beside it too, so your mom treated you there.

Mom was giving you weird vibes however.

You were seated at the table and the second you ordered and the waiter took the menus she gave you a look.

She swished the water and ice in her cup. “So. When were you going to tell me you chased a boy here?”, she said simply. She didn’t sound mad or upset.

You slumped I your chair. “Mom I-“, she cut you off.

“Hey hey. I get it. Sometimes you fall for the wrong person at the wrong time. Sometimes the right person at the wrong time. I just would of liked to know why you had Auntie Aada almost call the police for your return”, she said with a chuckle, taking a sip of her water.

Visibly relaxing, you told her everything. She listened and laughed. She sided with you on most of what happened.

“Aada just worries. Long distance is hard”, mom told you. You knew it was true.

“Yea, but Mom something about this feels right. Not like he’s my soulmate or anything. I mean he very well could be, but that’s not the point. Everything is calm between us. There’s a peace and appreciation that no one else has ever shown me. There’s something there. I haven’t known him long enough to say I’m in love with him but Mom I think that spark is the start. That little something is going to be bigger. I know it’s not going to be easy, but life isn’t easy”, you took a deep breath. Mom looked at you in adoration.

“My Baby is growing up”! Her eyes watered as she said this and her hand grabbed yours. “If long distance is okay with you, then I’m okay with it”.

You blinked back happy tears. She got it. Your mother got it. She was going to support you through it. Dinner was calm after that. Conversation flowed easily.

“Draft is tomorrow. Are you going to be there”?

“Of course”.

~~~~~~~~~

You and your mom sat up with Kaapo and his family. You waited patiently with him, soothing and comforting him. This was big. Obviously, his childhood dream was coming true.

“Your okay babe”, you whispered to him. He had a straight face and was thinking hard.

“Thank you”. He looked over at you and some of the tension in his shoulders disappeared. But not all of it.

You massaged his hand. It always helped you calm down when you were younger. You hoped this would help him. The pad of your thumb ran along the palm of his hand, rubbing slow circles.

“You have small hands”.

You looked up at him with a smirk. “No my hands are average sized. You just have really big hands”.

He smirked but quickly returned his attention to the stage. You rested your head on his shoulder, continuing to massage his hand. Everyone was talking and being loud but the two of you were content with being silent.

New Jersey had taken their place on the stage to announce their selection. Martin Brodeur was announcing it. “For first over all, the New Jersey Devils are proud to select from the US program”, Kappos face fell, “Jack Hughes”.

“New Jersey sucks anyway”, you whispered while clapping for Hughes. You doubted it would help comfort him but it was something. They took their pictures and whatever.

It was a no brainer when the New York Rangers have Kaapo as their selection. It all blurred together, him getting up and hugging you first and then everyone else around him, his walk up, the pictures. The everything.

You were fucking proud.

You knew he was going to be occupied for a long time. You took your phone out and opened Instagram. Multiple notifications came up quickly on your phone.

“Was that you”?

“Are you at the draft”?

“You went to Vancouver”?

You ignored them. Your followers started slowly increasing. You changed your account to private for the time being. Kaapo has found your account making you smile and follow him back.

Opening the explore page, you searched for the Rangers. You followed them. Their page was already quickly filling up with Kakko posts.

New notification: “Is Kakko your boyfriend”?

You didn’t know what to say. Was he? No, the two of you haven’t talked about that. You read it over and over. The question upset you more then it should of. What were you guys? You were too easily upset, you pinned it on a lot of change.

You exited and started scrolling through your feed. Nothing interesting. Basic selfies, basic vacation pics, basic ads.

It was getting late, you had to leave with mom to go back to the hotel. You hugged the Kakko’s congratulations, and left. Kaapo was still busy with the rangers team and press. Mom talked about how much she loved the draft and how she wanted to go to another one.

That made you happy. When you reached the hotel room, only then you realized how tired you were. Almost immediately you fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~

You slept in, but woke up well rested. Quickly, you noticed mom wasn’t in the hotel room. She left a note for you on the clock.

‘Out with the girls, will be back before 5’

It was 11 am. What felt like hundreds of messages spammed your phone. Kaapo had texted you too.

Kaapo: When you get up text me?

You: Sorry I slept in. What’s your plan today?

Your phone dinged almost immediately.

Kaapo: No plans yet. Waited for you.

You: Think we could go somewhere to talk?

You left your phone on the nightstand and started getting ready. Your favourite summer clothes was a good choice. Flip flops and you were almost ready to go. Your hair was put into a lazily done bun before you sat back onto the bed.

Kaapo: Sure

You both decided to meet at the Tim Hortons closest to where he was staying. It wasn’t a far walk for you. Even though you could of taken the bus, you wanted to enjoy Vancouver.

The bell dinged as you opened the door. A quick scan of the Tims was all you needed. An awkward, out of place Kaapo sat in the back corner. You smiled but walked over.

“Is this seat taken”, you said in a deep voice.

Kaapos head snapped up to look at you. He chuckled, but motioned to the chair. You slid into the chair with ease. You rest your chin on your hand and looked intently at Kaapo.

“What are we?”, you asked loudly.

Kaapo went tense. “What do you mean?”, he mumbled, tracing random patterns on the table.

“Like. Are we together? Are we not?”, you sighed.

“I-“, he paused. “I don’t know. What do you want to be?”, he finished.

You smiled softly at him. “I want to be your girlfriend”, you said in a teasing tone.

He smiled. “Y/n, will you be my girlfriend”, he smirked.

“I, Y/n, agree to be your girlfriend”, you said dramatically. You both stopped for a second before bursting into loud fits of laughter. It wasn’t even that funny, so you weren’t sure why. You were wiping tears from your eyes, still trying to hold back laughter.

You reached for his hands. He reached for yours. Locking fingers together, you both giggled. Stupid teenager babble.

“Oh my god! Tell me how everything was for you!”, you exclaimed. You jumped out of your chair and almost leaped across the table to embrace him. His arms wrapped around you as he hummed in delight.

“Was good”.

“No no like TELL me about it”, you said excitedly.

So he did. He sat there and talked to you about it. He tried to be conservative about it. It was obvious he didn’t want to make everything about him.

You loved it. You loved hearing him talk about something so important to him. You loved just hearing him talk. You loved that this was a big part of his life, and inevitably yours too.

“I love you”, you blurted.

He froze. Kaapo looked at you like you had three heads. You were mentally beating yourself up over it. You didn’t even mean it. You didn’t know if you loved him yet. It was all too fast and all too soon. It was a spur of the moment. Your face went red. You regretted it immediately.

“You what”?

[hclles-blog]

hey guys ! this has been sitting in drafts for at least a day now, but trust me when i say i’m as excited as i was when typing this fucking monster of an intro SDKFGJKFD but i’m jules, kard and clc supremacist and a struggling student about to apply to the english faculty of my uni ! like i said, this is a super long intro, so get settled as i introduce asteria’s resident skating brat halle, a bitch who overworks and doesn’t know how to chill long-term !! stats page is HERE for your reading pleasure, extensive plots and an extra list of options are linked accordingly !

jeon somin, cis female, she/her. — have you seen ( hyunmi “halle” chae ) around ( hecate ) ? they’re a ( twenty-two ) year old ( senior ) who’s majoring in ( kinesiology. ) i know they’re busy with ( dance club, women’s volleyball, and kappa delta sorority ), but you should tell them to check their latest starred rating ! ( jules, 21, she/her, gmt-3:30. )

honestly she is.. fucked sgjfsgdkl

this is mostly a carbon copy of an intro i’ve made for her in the past, so while some random points seem a Little dated or repetitive, they’re valid enough to stay here sfdlgkdg

i’ve had inspo for her after the olympics and rly wanted to use her somewhere, so if some things here seem a little.. idk, farfetched for your taste, we’ll pin it on that sfdgkdfj

this is her as popular vines

so chae hyunmi aka halle, ulsan born, raised in seoul and relocated to toronto, canada with her parents, little sis and partner to train bc..

she’s a figure skater, good enough to win ( .. junior ig ) titles when she was in her early teens, so it was only inevitable for her to leave for toronto to train with the Best eventually

she’s competed in international competitions, as part of a pair, and made her olympic debut in sochi by the skin of her teeth; her highest placement was third place ( not at sochi pls sgjkld she prob ranked in the top ten at best ), so she’s got a medal or two to her name

ultimately it was after sochi that she saw her coach and ( ex ) partner intervene with her.. unhealthy practicing habits

she’s a perfectionist through and through, so of course she’d spend hours on the ice at just seventeen/eighteen years old, even younger tbh, to get a routine right. but she pushed herself harder and harder, where small missteps would lead her to fall hard and recover for days on end, even spraining her ankle just before competition season was to begin

so when her coach insisted she take a break, her parents following suit, it was with good reason — one that she didn’t fucking see fsdkgkl

even so, them pushing her to prioritize education for a bit, to get ahead of the skaters who would prob only be able to do so upon retirement in a good few years’ time, and hanging up her skates until she saw it as.. less than something she needed to abuse herself to feel comfortable with, for as long as they would do so led to her resolve shattering and her applying for universities in canada, the us and sk ( the sly brat reasoned that it’d be nice to be reconnect with her roots.. for the sake of having something going for her beyond just competing in pyeongchang ! )

but the latter wound up being a bust bc she opted for asteria u, close to some of the popular yet secluded skate clubs the greats went to during their off-season training.. and before tr*mp got elected bc she would’ve cancelled everything, demanded her money and scholarships back, had she arrived after that LSDFGJFKLD

should be noted that her grades were good, she had a super brief volunteering stint and she’s a rising star ( well, was.. the bitch wouldn’t be competing again anytime soon to keep herself where she was within the skating circuit ) in her favoured sport, so she deemed all of this inevitable sfkljfdgk

though the school didn’t and still doesn’t offer its own skate club so, that was a slight drawback for the invested bitch

the transition wasn’t too hard ofc; she got comfortable with the campus and was back on the ice in no time, joining one of those aforementioned skate clubs under her parents’ noses and making the most of it as comeback/olympics prep

she saw herself as poised to be added to the roster once again, now a singles prospect after a major falling out with her longtime partner for one too many dumb bitch moves, and was desperate for it; however the stars didn’t align back in 2017 during her sophomore year, when she just missed obtaining qualification while now on canada’s roster on a technicality, and nothing could’ve compared to the agony that was missing her chance in something she invested sm practice, time and compliance with the people around her to pull through and get to pyeongchang

she’s still distraught over it, it’s been a couple of years since that happened and she gets emo real quick, misty-eyed if you bring it up ( she uh, has issues with moving on from things if you can’t tell )

suffice to say she resents her coach for his minor contribution in fucking her and himself over, dropped him out of anger ( a move she.. does feels bad abt on a personal level but professionally ?? pft ) and linked up with one back in toronto who she’ll begin seeing when she’s “ prepared ” to give it a shot again

meaning she’s currently on hiatus from the sport, but she knows a good few people think her career is Over now — and it pisses her the Fuck off

studying kinesiology despite wanting to be a skating coach when she retires as a competitor, bc she rly loves being active and thinks she’d be a resource in the field down the line ok ??

anyways, she’s found new things to invest her time in, such as the sorority, dance club and volleyball

dance helps with the choreo for her routines.... or Did, but we all know she’s still doing Some amount of skating on the side so

and it helps in areas where muscle memory and years of flexibility can’t quite do so

volleyball’s a great second option for her as a sport, mostly bc she can exert as much of her frequent frustration as possible into a game and act like it’s just her being into it. though she really can be That competitive, as you can see, rather than bratty

so, moving onto other things —

personality and other shit

she is.. a mess rly

inflexible, independent, charismatic, etc

most of her actual personality is further down oops dsfgjklfg

kinda detached ?? like she doesn’t want too many distractions and she deems relationships as the fucking Worst for it.. she’s had some pals from skating with potential go downhill when they got too deep with certain partners or just with too many side hobbies, social obligations, so she’s trying to be level-headed while not destroying her social life ?

idk it’s hard to explain, she’s an enigma even to me in that area

only dated once or twice. the first time being when she was like nine. with her first pairs partner that she quickly ditched.

not.. super sexually active either ( rip ?? )

but she’s been Involved with people so fdskng

on the ice, or just in whatever she’s applying herself to, she’s domineering and blunt, v strict on herself though she’s slacked off a bit over the years.. so imagine how self-disciplined — in the worst of ways — she was when she was younger

with a rigorous work ethic like hers, her being a leader among those at the local skating club implies that she’d be strict too with what little power she has.. but she’s kinda chill overall ?? tho you still have to get your twizzles right before the end of the day, don’t care that the hockey players will be out in two ! let’s go !

uh.. her attitude carries over with a Lot of things. she especially has no time for people who are Committed to their sport but show poor performances bc of laziness, distractions, etc. so brace your kids for hurricane halle ??

call her ice queen. try it. try it. GKFDJKGDSF she hates that nickname 95% of the time, usually bc she assumes people are basing it off of her initial/professional demeanour first and her passion second

she rly just has a hard shell where it matters, aka her career and stuff, but is a semi-precious gem overall

or, for a better way to describe it though it sounds like i’m just repeating myself: she gives off Proper head bitch vibes ( subtract the Need to feel powerful in being a piece of shit to anyone who walks past you ) but she’s really just a blunt and serious brat with a super dry and at times menacing sense of humour

she won’t hesitate to call you out on your shit or make it clear that she doesn’t like you, though, even if she appears cordial on the surface

as a result, hockey players HATE her !

bc she rips into them the most for frequently poor experiences with her fellow ice people. most of which are them hogging her reserved practice time, and being thirsty and pretentious dicks about it within and outside of the arena

kind of dramatic and a meme ngl, curses quite a bit, whips out korean or her conversational-level french far too often — especially if she’s shit-talking bc you made an ugly choice but is trying to be a Supportive Friend

english name came from halle berry bc hyunmi thought she was rly pretty on all the red carpets her mom would have on growing up sfgdkjflk

unwinds with the usual netflix and wine

oH also prob still hurts herself by overworking, especially after That Lost Opportunity, i hate

she’s pan but..... girls disappoint her far less than guys so she has a preference djfgskgdkf

all of that being said, it clearly plays into how she’s perceived by others, so —

her view and reception on starred

she..... probably doesn’t do too hot tbh

well. maybe she Does if starred's social ladder resembled most high school/college shows, movies.... rps, but it doesn't really so —

in all fairness, she probably does do better than i'm assuming rn bc.. she Is a character of sorts, who knows gskfksl but MOVING ON !

her blunt and kinda snarky attitude is partially Why she hates this point system, bc people tend to kiss ass just so they aren’t given a low rating whereas she can only hold back about 5% of her unfiltered opinion — but that’s IT !

tbh she relies heavily on her involvement in extracurriculars, and especially her public image from her glory days, more so than she herself to keep her head above water

so she looks entitled from that alone

given the way i’ve played her in the past, ik she might come across as a hbic type: thinks she’s the best ( which.. she kinda does sjkfgd ), savours the power she tries to or does in fact exert, doesn’t come across as particularly sympathetic or nice, etc

but she’s just a shit disturber with thick skin and a slight kink for receiving admiration and respect, puts herself first a little too much

in fact, she doesn’t really Care to hold people by a leash, but yeah, it can come across much differently since her tone never really Shifts if she doesn’t know you well, doesn’t trust you, knows you’re naive with such things, doesn’t like you, is just fucking around or in a sour mood.... the list goes on

so if your character focuses on who’s the nicest or most cheerful when giving high ratings, makes a v quick judgment on their character from a first impression, she’s gonna be near the bottom of their list dfsghkfgj

and like i said, she doesn’t care for the system Enough to change any of this, so she gets by

KDFJGSKFL uh, let’s end it there bc this is painfully long — congratulations if you’ve made it to the end of this intro from hell ! if anyone wants to plot, like this or im me !! ( ps, if you prefer d*scord like yours truly, just ask for it or send me yours ! )